It was morning, the orange sun gradually revealed itself and painted the clouds in a similar shade. A few birds hiding in the bushes greeted the day, filling the sky with the usual morning sounds. Two fairies, not bigger than a woman’s hand, flew through the sky and looked at two men lying in a ditch, wrapped in their grey cloaks. One of them made a soft snoring sound.
One of the fairies flew down and giggled softly as she gently touched the light-brown curls.
“This is that bard, ehmm…”
“Mikhal,” the other whispered. “I like him. Let’s go tell the others he is here.”
“And his friend?” the first fairy said as she flew to the other man, examining his short, brown hair and the part of the face that wasn’t covered by the cloak.
“Trevor,” the second fairy whispered. “Be careful not to wake him, he doesn’t like our kind. Let’s go.”
The two fairies flew further into the hills and soon disappeared from sight.
Trevor and Mikhal travelled together to the land of the dwarves. Trevor had found something that belonged to them and had decided to return it to them. On is way he had met the bard Mikhal, who had no plans and had decided that visiting the dwarves was a good idea.
As the sun rose higher, the light became brighter and more unnatural sounds filled the air. Rumbling and pounding. Hissing and grinding. The one with dark-brown hair turned on his back, the movements behind the eyelids showed he was waking up.
A loud clang echoed through the area and the two jolted up.
“W-what was that?” Mikhal stuttered.
Trevor had his knife in his hand and peered around. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “It didn’t sound familiar at all.” That being said, very little of what he heard now sounded familiar, but he didn’t trust it. He soon looked at the top of the hill and gestured to Mikhal to follow him.
The two sneaked up a hill and when they reached the top they could see what was in the valley below. From east to west the area was filled with a moving group of armed people, all marching in unity. The wind blew in their face and with it carried the sounds of the army.
Trevor narrowed his eyes. “Dwarves,” he said.
The short and broad posture was telling for the human-like creatures, but it was the only way to tell it was them. They were all completely covered in a dark-grey iron suit, with a backpack on their backs with pipes leading to the joints of the armour. It was strange to see them move so freely with all that iron on them. It was even more strange that there was a sighing sound every time they moved and, if he was not mistaking, small clouds escaped the joints. Maybe sighing wasn’t the best way to describe the sound, but Trevor didn’t know what else to call it.
“Where did they come from? The valley was empty last evening.”
Trevor didn’t answer at first. “The must have marched through the night,” he muttered. Armies usually didn’t for various reasons. Why did they?
“What do you suppose that is?” Mikhal asked as he pointed to a large rectangular cube that had the same colour as the armour the dwarves wore, which seemed to move by itself. There were several pipes running across the surface and clouds escaped at the back. He estimated it to be as tall as four dwarves on top of each other.
Trevor stared at it, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was. It seemed like a big metal carriage, but without any horses. “They are marching towards the capital city,” he muttered, and he turned to his travel companion. “Did you hear anything about an invasion when you were last there?”
Mikhal shook his head. “That was a year ago, but I didn’t hear anything about an invasion. They seemed their usual, friendly selves. They invited me to eat and drink with them, we sang some songs, told some stories and after I spend the night I was on my way again, with my bag filled with food and beer. They spoke kindly about humans and mentioned they enjoyed the profitable trades.”
That sounded like the dwarves Trevor knew as well.
“They did mention a recent discovery of something they called black gold, and they showed me a black stone they had dug up from the ground. They were quite happy with it.”
Trevor wasn’t sure this ‘black gold’ was relevant to this, but he made a mental note of it nonetheless.
“Maybe we should talk to them,” Mikhal suggested. “Ask them what they’re doing here. Dwarves and humans haven’t had any troubles for a hundred years.”
“I’m just a mercenary now, but I’ve been in the army long enough to recognize an invading army when I see one. That it was peace for this long doesn’t mean we will stay friends forever.” He watched them march west with narrowed eyes. “This is bad.”
“Are you certain the capital city is their target?” he whispered, with a voice that couldn’t hide the worry he felt.
“I’m certain they are invading us,” Trevor stated with a grim expression. “If they were only passing through they would have their visors up and there isn’t much else to the west that could be of interest to them. There is only the sea and the land of swamp dragons. They aren’t seafaring people, they hate the swamp and dragons and dwarves share a mutual hatred.” He glanced aside, examining the serious frown on Mikhal’s face. “Working on your next song?”
“I’ll definitely be singing about this one day, but we need to warn the king first.”
Trevor looked at the marching dwarves. With the wind-direction they wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation. “I’m sure the king will have received word of this already, if they marched in a straight line they travelled between two of our outposts and through at least one village. This can’t have gone unnoticed.”
“If they are hostile, then those outposts haven’t been able stop them. We must assume they didn’t get a chance to send word about this.”
Trevor nodded and looked towards the east.
“What worries you?”
“Andrus was stationed in one the eastern border outposts.”
“And you want to go check on your friend.”
That was true, but Trevor knew the priority was to get ahead of this army and warn the king.
“We could split up,” Mikhal offered. “I can travel to the city and you can check the outpost.”
“You barely have any skills to defend yourself.”
Mikhal smiled briefly. “Even with the two of us we can’t defend ourselves against this.” He looked over the army again, he counted twenty of those cubes and he couldn’t even begin to count the dwarves. “How many do you suppose there are?”
“Thousands. There’s at least two-hundred dwarves around each moving block and we don’t know if this group is their entire army.” He narrowed his eyes when he noticed a cart with what seemed to be humans in it. Prisoners? There were a few of those carts, all pulled by mules, but they didn’t seem to have any supplies in them. Were all the supplies in those big things? Trevor shook his head, there was no time to ask questions he couldn’t get the answer for. “We have to run if we want to get ahead of them,” he said as he rose to his feet.
“Let’s not waste any more time then.” Mikhal ran back to their camp, followed by Trevor. They quickly packed their belongings, threw it on their backs and started running towards the west.
“They have to take the easy path with those big blocks of them,” Trevor said. “They will stay on the north-side of the hills. We will reach the city before them of we go south-west, into the hills.”
Mikhal nodded and followed Trevor. While he was well-travelled and knew his way around the country, he usually stayed on the main roads while Trevor knew the quicker routes over smaller roads and paths.
They alternated running and walking and didn’t stop until the sun was on its highest peak. Trevor held on to a tree, panting. Mikhal sat down in the grass, trying to catch his breath.
“Surely those dwarves must take breaks as well,” he muttered.
“I don’t doubt it, even though they seemed to move effortlessly in those suits, they will want or need to eat at one point.”
Mikhal looked at Trevor, he knew the man wanted to say something more about it. “And?” he asked when nothing came.
“Those suits… I didn’t see any openings that will allow arrows to penetrate,” Trevor sighed, rubbing his face. “They have a full body armour now, instead of the helmets and chainmail they used to use, but, hey moved as if they aren’t wearing a heavy iron armour at all.” Heavily armoured and moving freely, how had the dwarves accomplished that? Another question that couldn’t be answered. “And there aren’t any weapons stronger and sharper than what the dwarves make,” he continued, tapping the hilt of his sword as he looked towards the north. “Our weapons have always been of lesser quality. On top of that, we use leather armour and helmets and shields. Only the richest can afford iron chainmail’s and have decorated iron helmets and shields, something the best warriors are often rewarded with it, but the majority of the army doesn’t have such equipment. And that worked fine in the war against the Bardugs two years ago, they don’t wear any armour at all, but I’m willing to bet everything I have that it won’t be enough now.” He slowly shook his head and looked at Mikhal, who listened intently. “And those moving things they have with them,” he continued, gesturing towards the north. “I don’t know what they’re for, but they wouldn’t have brought them if they would give them some kind of edge on the battlefield. I don’t see how we can destroy them. I don’t even know how they move. It’s like magic, but dwarves don’t use magic.”
“Dwarves are builders, not magicians,” Mikhal agreed. “It is mechanical. It has to be. When I was there I saw a dwarf showing a small device, with a candle he heated up water in a flask which had a narrow opening and the steam coming out moved the sails similar to those on windmills and through a round part with… teeth, or something. That moved another wheel with teeth, which in turn moved a stick in a bowl. The dwarf mentioned it would automate the washing process.”
Trevor locked eyes with Mikhal. “Those clouds emerging…”
“Could be steam. That might be how it moves, but if that is true they have advanced a lot in a year.”
“And they didn’t develop just washing machines.” Trevor straightened his back. “We better get moving again.”
Mikhal nodded and got up. “We can’t keep this up all the way to the capital city, we need horses.”
“I left mine with the shepherd. Let’s go.” Trevor ran down the path, followed closely by Mikhal. He had agreed to let the shepherd’s stallion mate with his mare and at first he had decided he would travel further to the dwarves after that was done. Then Mikhal had arrived and when the spoke he expressed an interest in joining him to the dwarves. Since Mikhal travelled by foot and because mountains weren’t easy terrain for a horse, especially when they had to be careful with the foal she would carry, he had decided to walk with Mikhal and pick up his horse after she had given birth. Now that plan would have to change.
***
They trotted through the long grass covering the hillside. The path they followed was nothing more than an animal track, but Trevor knew exactly where he needed to be. The path curled around a blueberry bush and they stopped for a quick snack, catch a breath and to stretch their sore legs. Neither of them was used to running long distances. Mikhal took a moment to look around, there wasn’t a tree in sight, but the grass was filled with white and yellow flowers and butterflies flew from flower to flower to drink. How he envied their carefree lunch, they didn’t need to worry about invading dwarves.
After a glance from Trevor, Mikhal nodded and they were on their way again, trotting through the grassland once more.
A river curled down the hill and they waded through it. On the other side was a house, the roof made of straw and the walls of loam. A simple house built with the materials of the area.
“There it is” Mikhal said between pants, he recognized the house.
Trevor nodded and walked towards the house. “Theolin!” he called out when he knew he was within earreach.
It didn’t take long for a bearded, blond man, dressed in simple woollen clothes, to emerge from the house. “Ah, Trevor. Back already?.”
“No time for small talk, I need my horse.”
Theolin nodded and went to the shed to get the horse. There was obviously something up and he knew better than to question Trevor when he was in a hurry. When he returned the horse was saddled and she greeted Trevor with a neigh.
“Mikhal, you can find the way to the palace, right?” Trevor asked as he turned to his travel companion.
“Aren’t you coming?” Mikhal asked as he reached out to take the reins from the shepherd.
“I saw they have prisoners, if I can manage to free them we’ll have more information.”
“You hope to find your friend there.”
“That too,” Trevor admitted.
Mikhal stepped to the side of the horse. “It’s dangerous, if they capture you…”
“Don’t worry about me, I will stay out of sight until the night. They won’t notice me. You just get the message to the king.”
“I hope they will listen to a bard,” Mikhal said as hoisted himself into the saddle. When he was on the horse, he looked at Trevor. “Your voice would carry more weight.”
“Go to grand commander Bendul, he’s a smart man and he will listen to you.” He walked to the horse and held out something wrapped up in leather. “Take this with you.”
Mikhal hesitantly took it, he knew what was in that pack. “You have no intention to return the dagger to the Dwarves anymore,” he stated.
“Of course not, I want it as far away from them as possible.”
“I will take good care of it,” Mikhal promised as he put it away under his shirt. He did his best to hide his worry, but if Trevor gave him the dagger of G’narv it could only mean Trevor considered it likely he would get caught.
There was nothing more to say, so Mikhal turned his horse and rode away.
It was a relief to Trevor to see him ride away and not needlessly argue about it. When Mikhal disappeared between the hills he looked at Theolin, who hadn’t asked any questions. Which was why he appreciated the man. He explained what was going on and turned around to go towards the Dwarven army. There was no doubt in his mind Mikhal would complete his part of the mission, which meant he could focus on another part.
***
Trevor walked back until the darkness made it impossible to travel further. He slept in the grass, using his bag as a pillow and the cloak as a blanket, and when the sun rose again he continued west. He walked up the hills and trotted down, to save energy but move fast.
When the sun was about to set he saw the army again, they had stopped to make camp. He watched them from above, lying on his belly in the grass. A hissing sound came from the cube closest to him and he smelled meat. Did they prepare the food in there while they were travelling? That certainly saved time in the evening, but it seemed too large for just being used for supplies and as a mobile cooking unit. He watched how some the dwarves lined up around the cubes while others removed their bags. Another hissing sound came from the cube and this time he could see one of the panels open, which meant the earlier hissing was also a door opening. Some dwarves entered it with their bag and came out moments later. He wasn’t sure what was going on there, but he wasn’t here to figure out all the details now. Staying close to the ground, he moved alongside the army, keeping a safe distance. He needed to see where they kept the prisoners before he’d attempt to enter the camp, using the darkness as his cover.
It wasn’t long before he spotted a cart with a metal cage on top, a single torch illuminated the prisoners inside. There were mainly women and children in it. He crawled further and saw the cart he had hoped to see, the humans in that one wore the uniform of the human army. He stayed where he was, lying on the ground, waiting for the dusk to change into darkness.
When it was dark enough he decided to take his chances and sneak through the camp. Staying low to the ground he inched forward, using the uneven ground as much to his advantage as he could. The only light he had was that of the crescent moon, the dwarves hadn’t bothered with making fires. But maybe they didn’t need that, their eyes had probably adjusted to work well with little light and he had seen they didn’t need to cook. When he heard the sound of iron moving against iron, something that sounded like a combination of whistling and sighing, and talking dwarves, he crawled into a ditch and remained there until he was certain they had passed him.
He crawled further into the camp when suddenly two pair of hands grabbed him by the arms. He looked at the iron-covered hands and then at the dwarves who pulled him up until he sat on his knees.
“Sneaking around in our camp, are we?” one of them asked.
“Obviously,” Trevor replied, looking at the helmet. He hated not being able to see a face.
“And what did you think to accomplish, human?”
Trevor shrugged. “Freeing prisoners.”
“Now you are one yourself!”
Trevor complied when the dwarves told him to get up and let them take him prisoner without resistance. At least he’d get where he wanted to be, but escaping would be a lot harder now.
As Trevor had hoped, they took him to the cart he was on his way to. A torch illuminated it with its flickering light, but it was enough to see the prisoners were all looking at him.
The dwarves took his bag, his sword and his knife. After they made sure they had all the weapons, they opened the door and he entered it without a word. When the door closed behind him he locked eyes with one of eleven prisoners. “Andrus,” he greeted the dark-blond man.
“Trevor! How nice of you to drop by.”
Trevor narrowed his eyes. “I’m already regretting it,” he muttered.
“But seriously, how did you end up here?”
“I was in the area,” he answered casually. “I saw them marching and when I saw they had human prisoners I wanted to free them.” That was followed by a shrug. “That didn’t go as planned.” He looked at the camp filled with dwarves and moved closer to Andrus. “What happened?” he whispered to him.
“They appeared from a fog and ran us over.” Andrus whispered back.
“You were stationed in a fortified outpost.”
Andrus gestured to one of the cubes. “Those things go right through wooden gates and arrows bounce right off. The dwarves have equipped themselves with new armour, we could barely make a scratch on them with our swords. Arrows were useless as well.” He shrugged. “When presented with the option, I surrendered.”
“Some would say you were a coward.”
“I bet those people are bad at chess too and don’t think a few steps ahead.” Andrus whispered with a faint smile. “I can die an honourable and utterly pointless death now or surrender and maybe make a difference on a later time.” He gestured to the others in the cart. “This is all that is left from my men.”
Trevor looked at them, the only one he recognised was a soldier with hay-blond hair. “Steve, you’re injured.”
Steve looked at the blood-stained army-vest. “The wound isn’t deep, but their battle-axe chops through iron. If I hadn’t backed away when he swung his axe, I would have been dead.”
Which meant chainmail didn’t make a difference, that was a disappointment, but not unexpected. “Have you learned anything about those cubes?” Trevor whispered as he looked around the cart.
“A few things,” Andrus whispered back. “I’ve talked to every guard that showed up here, some were grumpy and barely spoke a work, much like you.” He grinned when he saw Trevor glare at him. “Some were actually quite chatty. They have their coal in it, a kind of black stone they found, and they do everything with it now, cooking, heating, forging. They also keep those metal bags they carry on their backs and their food there, I’m not sure what those metal bags are yet, but sooner or later I’ll charm a dwarf into telling that.” He frowned when he looked at one of those cubes. “Most importantly, they have this big cylinder that comes out of the top, they shoot iron balls with it. They used it to destroy our beacon, so we couldn’t warn the other outposts.”
Trevor thought about what he had heard, that coal, could it be the same black gold as Mikhal had mentioned? What worried him most were those iron balls it could shoot. How could they possible defend themselves against that? “So, they created a stronger steel, they have lots of it and they have a destructive long-ranged weapon now. Did you discover any weaknesses?” Trevor looked from Andrus to the soldiers, but no-one spoke. “This is going to cost a lot of lives,” he sighed.
*** © Mariska Bekker ***