Tranquil Fury (13 page)

Next, they arrived at a workshop where Fodu sat, diligently toiling away. Since all of the dwarves had left, much like his brothers, he had no reason to visit these lower levels. When Fodu had seen Lauren the other day, inspiration had dawned on him, and he had woken up excited for the first time, in a long time. He had a number of items that he had started so long ago, but after his Pappy had built that damned sword, nobody wanted any of his work, as they thought he might be crazy as well, and transfer the insanity through his jewelry. He had retrieved one of the more interesting brooches that had been collecting dust for too long, a beautiful gold pin with platinum inlays, decorated with tiny diamonds, rubies, and sapphires for sparkle. The best part being the little hinge that he created, which allowed it to move like it was alive, and you had to look close to realize it was not.

When Aaro and Hakk brought the group in, he showed them some of his work, and talked about the properties of the metal. He, like his brothers, had missed a purpose in life, and the arrival of these seven ignited a desire to participate, to do something different from the past years of quiet.

Aaro coughed to get his brother's attention, and the small room, intensified the thick, deep voices of the dwarves, “Much still our friends to show we have. The day next tell them more, if your words hear they still want to.”

As they started to leave, Fodu said, “Wait, required sizes are.” He came over with a large ring that had several dozen smaller finger rings attached to it, and went to each one, asked which finger they would like a ring for, and measured it. But when Eric held out his hand, Fodu could not find a sample ring big enough. “Biggest I will make, if too big…” He looked up at Eric, “Big I will make.” Then, instead of approaching Lauren, he turned his back to her.

Lauren became a little upset.
Maybe the rings are reserved for the male members only?

Fodu went to his desk, put his notes and measuring rings down, and picked up the pin, then went over to Lauren and unfolded his hands. She looked at a beautiful jewel-encrusted golden butterfly, its wings slowly rising and falling. Lauren gasped. First, it seemed like a very expensive item, at least back home. Second, its movement, it looked alive. Lastly, it was a butterfly, and she could not help but think,
is this a message?

Fodu reached up to pin it on Lauren.

 “No Fodu, I cannot accept this. It is too much.”

 “Friend Lauren, without one to cherish it, value it has none. Too much or too little, decision be mine. You and your friends, to our house life you have brought. This be gratitude, worthy of none but you. Accept it please you shall.”

Lauren took the brooch and attached it to her blouse, then kissed Fodu on his forehead, “Thank you very much.”

Aaro and Hakk then showed the group some of the smaller workshops and forges. Then they went to a massive set of double doors, and once opened, a large black cavern stood before them. Hakk walked to a spot a few feet inside the door, turned a knob, raised his torch to reveal a hole in the wall, and a trail of fire raced around the room, the new light battled with the darkness, pushing it back to expose a huge chamber.

“Friends, this be pride of Ironhouse,” Aaro boomed. In the center of the room was a large stone cauldron eight feet tall by six feet in diameter. Metal scaffolding, with wooden planks surrounded it, and cranes and pulleys hovered above. The room had two parts: the first was about sixteen feet tall by thirty feet wide, and everything in the front room was devoted to the forge. The back of the room was about eight feet tall, but the raised floor started eight feet from the ceiling, so that the scaffolding had an even walk to the back of the room. Aaro explained how they would fill the forge with the hardest coals and fire them up. He pointed to a door, “To the bellows, that way go. That be where Fen his size he did gain, his hair did lose. Bellows, air it moves, heats the coals it does. Forge so large, air much need we do.”

John looked at Aaro, “Why is it so large?”

 “Friend John, make big forge smaller, simple it is. Spacers Add. But if smaller, bigger made cannot be. One so large, clans all did Ironhouse forge envy.”

They walked over to the far end of the room, and climbed to the upper level, where Aaro explained how they filled the forge with coals, mixed the ores, and introduced them to the heat. And the joys of watching ore slowly turn into a liquid.

He was starting to explain the tools they used when Hakk spoke up, “Brother, competition this be not. You and Fodu both, around Bor for too long you have been. Tour this be, apprenticeship class it is not.”

Aaro gave Hakk a dark look, “My brother be right, much to show you we have still. Time of great has passed since last the dark we chase from her. Tour, let us finish now.”

As they began climbing down the ladder, John decided to use the far one, and when he got to the lower level, he was surprised at what he saw. “Aaro, what happened here?” Everyone wandered over to where John was standing, where they saw a large six inch wide crack, that was almost seven feet long in the stone forge.

 “Friend John, question be short, the answer not. But ask Bor not. Another night great hall open he would, Gor weary of cooking soon will grow. The story simple be this. Ironhouse build something grand we did. Heat needed be great, too great. Forge beloved, much we asked from her, too much. That day battle she lost, heat broken, our dreams give birth to, no more shall she. Wounded mortally, dark shrouded, she sits now.” Then Aaro went quiet.

Lauren looked at Aaro.
He mourns the loss of a loved one.

Hakk, seeing his brother like this, quickly spoke up, “To the upper levels, go we shall? Pleasant be air, see much there still be.” He then led the tour group back up the twisting tunnels, while Aaro stood there without realizing that he was by himself. Hakk showed them the dwarf and elf sleeping quarters, and some of the other rooms on the second floor. Then he took them up to the upper levels, and explained that there were even more levels above—but all were empty. The tour lasted for another hour, but nothing could compare to the spectacular rooms on the lower levels.

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After the tour, Ryan found them outside of their meeting room, sitting on a terrace that overlooked the mountains and foothills. Mirtza, John, and Zack were talking about the forge while Eric rubbed his neck.

And Lauren, who had remained silent for most of it, stood. The others slowly quit talking, turned to face her. “I met with the Earth Mother yesterday. She told me something that I do not understand. Something, which I cannot explain, but I think you should know. The elves and dwarves were waiting for us. I do not know how they knew of us, or where we travelled. She did not elaborate, and I did not press her for details. I will try to find out more, and when I do, I will let you know. Now, I need a bath.” And with that, Lauren departed from the group.

 “Mirtza, what did Lauren mean when she said they were waiting for us,” asked Eric?

 “I am not sure. The Earth Mothers are a nature-based spiritual order, as I told you, and they serve one that they call Mother. The members of this group are somewhat private in that area, at least to the students that asked about them. This however, would explain why the dwarves and elves have been so welcoming to us. Earth Mothers are very compelling, and few, if any, would go against what they say. If they were waiting for you, I fear that your arrival here was no accident. I believe that an invitation was extended to you, one that you could not refuse.”

“So what does this mean?” John said as he rubbed his temples.

 “For that, friend John, you would have to ask the Earth Mother.”

Zack set down a mug of ale, “Mirtza, I was wondering about the way the elves and dwarves talk. I understand most of it, but it is not like listening to you.”

 “That would be the translation ointment. As I understand it, the dwarves speak with thick, twisted words. They come out backwards with odd sounds that make them seem completely unintelligent. And to learn their speech, a great amount of time is required. On the other hand, the elves have soft, lyrical sweet sounding words. The ointment attempts to translate and re-organize those sounds into words that you would know.”

John shook his head, “But all of the words do not sound the same. Some of the words that Lauren has said, well they sound different, like the way the elves speak. The dwarves sound similar to you, but the elves seem to use different words. They seem to have made a connection to the old English Saxon roots?”

Mirtza shrugged his shoulders, “I am not familiar with those roots.”

John shook his head, “Some words that share the same meanings, are spoken differently between the elves and dwarves.”

Mirtza nodded, “The translation ointment is actually elf magic. Some words do not translate exactly, and maintain a core essence of the original language. It primarily happens with the elf language, and like you said John, Lauren seems at times to be speaking elf, which the ointment then translates into words that you know, or roots” But Mirtza wondered if roots could actually speak.

Eric looked at Mirtza, “Why is she speaking elf?”

Mirtza shrugged his shoulders, “Ask the Earth Mother.”

“Sometimes,” Logan added, “it takes me a few seconds to understand what I heard.”

John nodded, looked at his friends, “Do you remember last year, when our school held that mini United Nations exhibition? Everybody was speaking English, but everybody sounded different. That British kid, and the other from India, they both spoke perfect English, but I was even having a hard time understanding what they were saying. And then there was that Canadian kid, all of his sentences ending in ‘eh’. English was, for the most part, their primary language. Yet, all too often, I would hear a word pronounced so differently, that I was unsure of what they said. It was only by determining how they used the word in the sentence that I was able to figure out what they meant. I think you have to remember, here the dwarfs and elves are not the hard one’s to understand, I think we are. After all, we are the foreign ones.”

Zack was rubbing his ear, “Do they know that we are using that stuff?”

Mirtza nodded his head, “I am sure they realize that it has been employed. It is the only way to explain how you can speak both dwarf and elf, especially since you have only been here for two weeks. And while the magic is potent, it may have limitations in its translation abilities. After all, when you talk to a mixed party, the ointment changes your words into both languages, as well as the words you hear, changing both back to your native words.”

John looked at Logan, “It’s better than sticking a fish in your ear.”

“What,” asked Logan?

John shook his head, “Hitch Hikers Guide to… forget it, just get used to it. Maybe clean the wax out of your ears.”

 “Do they know where we are from? Or how we can get back home,” asked Ryan?

“You should have Lauren ask the Earth Mother. She seems to have taken an interest in her, and might answer her questions better.”

“How long do they want us to stay?” Eric asked, “What do they want with us?”
How do we get home?

 “Friends, I wish I could answer these questions. But I cannot. Like you, I have no idea what is happening.”

Chapter 11

That night, Bor met them at the bottom of the entrance stairs, and led them to the great hall. From the smells lingering in the air, Gor had once again proved his mastery of all things food. Before the meal started, Fodu walked up to Mirtza and the five lads, and handed them a cloth with a ring inside. Each one had the likeness of a mountain on it, the Ironhouse coat of arms. Fodu then proudly said, “Now be you member of Ironhouse clan. If in trouble be you, find dwarf. When ring shown, help they will.”

The day’s long tour had left all of the participants very hungry, and they were becoming very fond of the dwarf ale. The meal was quick and the conversation was light, and Lauren was the hit of the party as everybody wished to see the butterfly brooch, Fodu staying nearby to catch any praise that fell his way. The beauty of it stunned the Earth Mother and Gingaar, who both wondered if it was some sort of sign.

Bor pulled a chair to the center of the room, and stomped his foot to get everybody’s attention. Then the large, thick voice came forth from the small storyteller, echoed quietly in the large empty room, “Three suns, darkness fought back they did.”

Alron spoke up, “Friend Bor, I does believe John does ask thou, why does such a huge place hold so few. If thou are going to start thine story from beginning, wake me up in months of six, when thou does get to current affairs.”

Bor looked at Alron, “But…”

Alron sent him a scolding look, “There does be time for thine story great later, let our friends build up endurance necessary before thou does start with story longest ever told in history dwarf.”

“Then start, where should I?”

 “The Eastern Clans, I does think that starting point does be most insightful.”

“A story not that is. Suckles on the bosom of history, it still does, too young it is. No, request for a story our guests did make. Promise a story I did, give one I will.”

“Young it does be, but so are thine friends. If thou does tell thine first story, thou does waste their youth. They does be young, does tell a young story.”

“Like it, I do not. Still your request, honor I will.” Bor started again, “Back years of twenty, elves report dwarves marching. Clans of the eastern range, open, cross-country travel they did. Good this was not. Ironhouse her doors opened, all welcomed we would. Friends, stories born great they were. Long lost clans, embraced, challenged other each. Drink flowed, blood spilt, halls laughter filled they were. Great those days were.”

Alron coughed, “Does stay on track.”

Displeased, Bor continued, “Not here story did start, but years of thirty past. Precious metals, gems, to the far north search eastern clans dido. An oddity on Bright Coast found they did, midlander town north built was. Soil so thin, trees grow not, winters so cold, game seen not. North, too far, dwarven concern none they had. Tame if they could, theirs it would be. Years of ten, pass they do, before thoughts of north dwarf does have. ‘Fools of North,’ eastern clans name them they did. Wooden gold, lumber cut, much there was, and dwarf would claim. In their way none would stand, all figured grave bound or dead would be. Wood for mines, much need they did, northern town, much to harvest there was. Midlander, graves filled they do not. Upright they be, multiply they did. Forgotten years, settlement no more, town now ten times since last since seen. Growths of wood, size be huge, from land do grow, and sea horizon stretch they do, docks later told they would be. Sea floating constructs, with docks do mate, birth midlander, supplies, more. For dwarf, too late be it would, that called ‘ship’ understood they did. Harvest lumber, not they could, return they did.