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. The two men laying on the ground, wrapped in their grey cloaks, moved as both the light and the sounds penetrated their slumber. One of them had light brown curls. The other short, dark-brown hair.
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?” the one with curls stuttered.
The other had his knife ready and peered around. “I don’t know, Mikhal,” 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.
“Trevor…” Mikhal whispered as he pulled on his sleeve and pointed with his other hand. “The noise coming from there.”
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.
“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 and at least twice as long as it was high.
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?”
“I’m certain they are invading us, 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,” Trevor 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 outposts of our army 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.
“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, our swords might not be able to penetrate it. They moved as if they aren’t wearing a heavy iron armour.” 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. And 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 moves 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.”
“And I know where to get them.” Trevor ran down the path, followed closely by Mikhal.
They soon trotted through the long grass covering the hillside. The path they followed was nothing more than an animal track, but Mikhal didn’t doubt Trevor knew exactly where the path lead. 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 their future.
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.
“A shepherd?” Mikhal asked between pants.
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 man, dressed in simple woollen clothes, to emerge from the house. “Ah, Trevor. It’s been a while.”
“No time to catch up, we need horses.”
Theolin frowned at him. “Can’t do that, need it myself you see.”
“Dwarves are invading, we need to get to the king.”
“And how do I get to the city without a horse? How do I sell my wool?”
Trevor gave the man a sharp look. “Fine. You know what? The village to the south, where you sell your wool as well, you can reach it in two days when you walk. Ask the blacksmith to give you a new horse, I will give you a letter in which I promise I will pay him back for it or bring him a new one to replace it.”
“You think the blacksmith will just give a horse when you ask nice?”
“He’s a friend. You will get your horse. I would go there myself, but the detour will take too much time. Now give me yours, we are in a hurry.”
Theolin sighed. “Fine. Because of the dwarves. And I owe you.” He glanced only briefly at Mikhal before he turned around and walked to a shed behind the house. “This way. My wife won’t like it, she’s fond of it.”
“I will explain it to her,” Trevor offered.
“You better.” Theolin opened the door and they were greeted with a neigh. “So. Dwarves you say?” he said as he walked in. “Surprising. Are they close?”
“Yes, a day walk from here, but they aren’t interested in the hills, they move west.” Trevor looked at the stable as he spoke, waiting for the man to come out again.
“That will be a fight.”
“One we’ll lose.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“And who is your friend?”
“Mikhal, a travelling bard. We were planning on going to the dwarves to return something, but I’m not going to do that now.”
Mikhal showed a faint smile. “You will keep the dagger for yourself then.”
“What dagger?” Theolin asked as he emerged from the shed with a saddled horse.
“Did you ever hear about the lost dagger of G’Narv?” Trevor asked him and saw Theolin nod. “I found it and I decided that I would bring it back to the dwarves. Now, I will keep it for myself.”
“No need to give those bloody dwarves any more weapons if they’re invading us,” Theolin agreed and offered the reins to Trevor, but he shook his head.
“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 will write the letter for Theolin and then go back. 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. “I will take good care of it,” he promised as he put it away under his shirt. He did his best to hide his worry, but if Trevor gave him the dagger it could only mean Trevor estimated his chances to be caught by the dwarves lower than his own.
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 followed Theolin into his house to write the letter and inform the wife about what had happened. As expected she wasn’t happy, but she grudgingly accepted it was important.
Theolin offered him a meal which he declined, he wanted to go back to the dwarven army. He accepted some supplies for on the way and walked back. 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 for 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. 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 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. He managed to get a few metres in when one of the dwarves noticed him. With a sigh he rose his hands and surrendered. At least he’d get where he wanted to be, but escaping would be a lot harder now.
As Trevor had expected, they took him to the cart he was on his way to. 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, 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. “What happened?” he whispered.
“They appeared from a fog and they 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 of 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 of 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.
***
Mikhal had travelled as fast as he could and after two days he reached the capital city Arnheim. He let the horse step over the cobblestones in the main street and looked at the every-day life taking place around him. Children were playing, a woman bought a loaf of bread from a baker. A merchant tried to sell some wares to a group of women, who had bought vegetables and meat pies. Normally he’d look around for a good place to perform and earn some coins, but he had more important things to do now. How long would they have before the army would be here? He didn’t know and he wished he had asked Trevor about an estimate before leaving. Although, thinking about it, he could provide enough information for the general to work out an estimation himself.
He rode straight to the palace and he asked the guards to speak with the king. At first they didn’t want to let him enter, but when he continued to insist he had important news they allowed to let him speak to first major commander Irmo of Royal Knights. Not exactly the one Mikhal had wanted to speak, but it would have to do. Unfortunately, the man didn’t believe dwarves were invading, they hadn’t received any news of it and there was no way an army like that could cross the borders unnoticed.
“Look, I know what we saw.” Mikhal let out a frustrated groan. “If you don’t believe me, let me talk to your superior officer. I want to talk with the grand commander.”
“The grand commander is otherwise engaged,” Irmo replied stiffly. “Come back later.”
“I will not!” Mikhal said. “Let me talk to grand commander Bendul!”
“I can throw you out the palace,” Irmo warned him.
“Then I will stand outside and continue to ask to speak with the grand commander until someone lets me.”
“I can throw you in a prison cell.”
“For what? Warning about an invasion? Is that illegal these days?”
“Fine,” Irmo grumbled and he grabbed Mikhal’s shoulder. “You can speak to him, but if he tells you to leave, you will leave. Understood?”
“Yes sir.” If Trevor was right he wouldn’t have to worry about that, Trevor’s faith in the man would soon be tested.
The first major commander brought Mikhal to an office in the south wing of the palace, he barely looked at the display of wealth on the walls, in the form of tapestries and finely crafted golden wall-ornaments.
After the first major commander knocked on the door and a baritone voice from inside gave permission to enter, Mikhal opened the door and stepped in the spacious office. The first thing he noticed were the various maps on the walls and a big, round table in the middle of the room. The grand commander himself sat behind a desk and looked at him.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Greetings, grand commander, I am Mikhal, a bard. I bring news of an invasion.”
The thick eyebrows moved down in a frown. “What invasion?”
“Dwarves, sir,” Mikhal said as he walked in further. “They are marching west as we speak.”
“We received no news of an invasion,” Bendul stated. “Are you certain?”
“Trevor and I were in the hills when we saw them. He estimates their numbers at four-thousand at least. And they have these big moving blocks of steel and we don’t know what they are, but he’s certain it’s an invasion. They have their visors down.”
Bendul was silent for a moment. “Were exactly were you when you saw the dwarves?”
“Sir, do you believe him?” the first major commander asked.
“We will send scouts to verify the story. If he lied I will hang him. If he spoke the truth, I don’t want to sit here and do nothing while they come closer.”
“But sir, the dwarves…”
“Have been our enemy once before, and that was a bloody war that lasted for twenty years. That it was peace doesn’t mean they can’t be our enemies again. We will confirm the invasion and get ready for war.” He looked at Mikhal. “The map.”
Mikhal went quickly to the map and showed the area where the dwarves had been seen.
Bendul looked at the location and then examined the location of the various outposts at the border. “If they moved between the outposts of the second major commanders Andrus and Moeni, used the cover of darkness to get close and take those outposts out, it is possible the other outposts didn’t notice what happened. If neither of them had time to light the warning signal.” He frowned at the map as his eyes moved from east to west, following the route the dwarves had most likely taken. “The hills are scarcely populated, they could stay undetected for a while. Meaning a bard coming with the news first is possible.” Bendul turned to Mikhal. “Where is Trevor?”
“There were prisoners, humans. Trevor went back to see if he could free them and get more information about the situation.”
Bendul nodded slowly and looked at the map again. “We’ll take care of it. I will send scouts to assess the situation, inform the king about the possible threat and, if he agrees, warn the population. You can be on your way, bard.”
“Sir, one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Trevor seemed pessimistic about our odds if it would come to a battle. Their armour seems to be better than ours and he says they wouldn’t have brought those cubes with them if it wouldn’t give them some kind of advantage.”
“Noted. You may leave now.” Bendul turned his back at Mikhal and walked back to his desk.
Mikhal bowed politely and left the room. He sighed in relief, but then uncertainty struck. Now what? He had done his job, the army would get ready before the dwarves were here. What more could he do? Where could he go? He definitely didn’t want to be in the city when the dwarves would come.
After a moment of contemplating he decided he would leave the palace, leave the city and see if he could find Trevor. Since Trevor had given him the dagger, he had considered being captures as a possible outcome, maybe he could use his help. He went back to the place where he had left the horse and got in the saddle.
Riding over the cobblestones once more, Mikhal thought about the dwarves and tried to make sense of a sudden invasion, but he couldn’t come up with a reason why they would be here. Although most wars could be brought back to a single reason: greed. And dwarves did have a tendency for that.
A bit further down the street he saw someone he knew, the black-haired nobleman seemed to be deep in thought and hadn’t spotted him yet. “Lemitsa!” he called out, quickly getting down from the horse.
Lemitsa looked up when he heard his name and nodded a greeting before he walked towards him.
“Lemitsa, you have to get out of the city.”
“Why?”
“The dwarves are invading. They are coming here.”
“Am I supposed to believe that?”
“I saw their army, they are coming in this direction.” He saw Lemitsa wasn’t convinced. “I am not lying!”
“Bards tell stories for a living.”
“Yes, I have made up stories about princesses who turn into butterflies, but that is during a performance. Have I ever lied to you?”
Lemitsa shook his head.
“I suggest you go to the city Arthol,” Mikhal said. “Dwarves are not a seafaring people, take a boat there and go to Rotswel. You will be safe with our allies across the sea.”
“Why would you concern yourself with my safety?”
Mikhal looked at him. “Because you are a friend.”
“The last time you were here…”
“You used me to claim a prize in a treasure hunt for yourself, I remember, but you did repay me afterwards.” While he had felt betrayed at that time, in the end Lemitsa had shown decency and proved they could still be friends. “How is it with lady Trialca?”
Lemitsa shrugged. “We are not together anymore.”
That wasn’t really a surprise, but Mikhal didn’t want to linger and chat about the noble woman. “Lemitsa, if you decide to board a ship to Rotswel, please go to Lissel, where lady Catheryn lives. Take her with you.”
Lemitsa stared at him. “You are serious,” he uttered. “These dwarves really do concern you. You think they will defeat us.”
“That was Trevor’s judgement and I trust Trevor.”
“In that case, I thank you for the warning. Will you not flee with your lady yourself?”
“She… is not my lady yet. And… I will not flee. I will do what I can to help.”
“You are no warrior, Mikhal. You are a bard!”
“That doesn’t mean that I can’t make a difference!” Mikhal shouted, ignoring the few people who had stopped to see what was going on. While Mikhal usually did an effort to speak politely, with full words, when talking to nobles and scholars, there were times he just couldn’t be bothered anymore and abbreviated like all commoners did. It was the dialect he grew up with and it came more naturally.
Lemitsa smiled, he appreciated Mikhal for his eloquence and manners, not many commoners had that, but he appreciated him even more for these rare outbursts. “And you know I will think of myself first. I am no hero and I will not stay here and hope we will the battle. I will go to Rotswel and await the outcome of the battle. If we are victorious I will return. And I will bring your lady to safety.”
“Please do,” Mikhal said. “And, please, take this with you.” He let the pack slide down and rummaged through it. He retrieved a leather pouch from it and gave it to Lemitsa. “I have collected half of the promised amount. Give this to her father and let him know I will bring the rest as soon as I can. And tell lady Catheryn I love her with all my heart and will come to see her when I can.”
The baffled Lemitsa took the pouch. “You have half already?”
“Not just by performing,” Mikhal admitted. “I took some jobs too. In the big cities I listened to gossips and if there was a noble with a task and a reward, I would go there.”
“I… am impressed.”
Mikhal smiled, coming from Lemitsa that was a high praise. “I have to leave, take care of yourself.”
“You take care of yourself, Mikhal. There are few people I can tolerate around me and I am grateful for our friendship.”
First Mikhal nodded and then he embraced him. “Take care, Lemitsa. We will see each other again.”
“I will be very displeased if you break your word.”
Mikhal nodded to that and the two friends parted ways, Mikhal went back to the horse to leave Arnheim and go back towards the hills.
Lemitsa went home. He told his parents and brother about the approaching dwarves and suggested they would leave. His father didn’t believe it would get that bad, even if the dwarves were coming, the army was more than capable to handle the threat. Lemitsa tried to persuade him, but his family didn’t want to leave their wealthy home just because a commoner told them to.
“In that case,” Lemitsa said, “I would like some money for a vacation, father. I always wanted to see Rotswel one day.”
“You never expressed interest in that country before,” his father grumbled.
“Even so, I would very much like to discover it now.”
“Fine!” Lord Artmer spat. “Flee, you coward.” With a stern expression he looked at his son and he crossed his arms. “I will give you money for the crossing, but I will not send you any additional money when you are there. When your funds dry up, you will be stranded, so spend it wisely.”
“I intend to do so.” Lemitsa nodded respectfully to his father and went to his room to pack his things.
***
The army of dwarves marched in a straight line to Arnheim. Any village they came across was no obstacle, they went in, marched through and came out, leaving destroyed houses and dead bodies behind. Survivors of the initial attack were taken prisoner.
“Anyone want to take bets on how long the battle is going to last?” Andrus asked. “Or if the king will surrender or not?”
“Sir, my money is on a quick victory for the dwarves and the king won’t surrender,” Steve said and then looked at the solder next to him. “What do you think, Pete?”
“I think the army will hold off the dwarves for a day or two, but the king will surrender when they start shooting the iron balls on Arnheim.”
Andrus tapped his lips with his index finger. “So, the soldier coming from a military family is saying the army is swept away, but the king will fight till the last man. The soldier coming from farmers has more faith in the strength of our army and the wisdom of our king. Trevor?”
“I think it’s good Steve is good at tracking,” Trevor said, lying on the ground of the cart.
The remark made Steve laugh and the other soldiers chuckled as well. Andrus shook his head with a smile on his face and looked at the camp while sitting against the bars with his back.
Trevor sat up and beckoned the others to come closer, so the dwarves wouldn’t overhear them. “This is what I think will happen,” he said in a hushed voice. “By now our army will have noticed the dwarves and have gathered enough men to outnumber them. They will put up a decent fight, but seeing how little our weapons do against them, the dwarves will be victorious. A retreat will be ordered and the soldiers will return to the city, putting up a second line of defence in front of the city, with additional forces and the knowledge they gathered during the first attack. The gates will be closed and the knights of the king will defend the palace. The dwarves will shoot their balls and possible try to push their cubes through the gates. Once they entered the city, the king will surrender when it’s obvious they will breach the defences of the palace.”
“But we do have some catapults on the walls,” Andrus reminded him.
Steve shrugged to that. “I think those will make some dents in the cubes, sir, but it won’t destroy them. It will kill some dwarves, no-one will survive a stone ball hitting you on the head, no matter what you have on it to protect it, but it won’t make much difference.”
Andrus nodded. “Is no-one going to put money on our army being victorious and that we will be released soon?” The silence following the question was telling. “Then we better find a way to escape. The best moment to do that is when the fight begins.” Everyone in the cart looked at the iron bars, it didn’t seem like it had any weaknesses. “We still have time to figure it out,” Andrus said when he noticed that, leaning back until his back was against the bars again and he closed his eyes. “Might as well enjoy the ride for now.”
***
The two armies met on an open field, at a safe distance from the city. Further down the right was a forest. To the left was mainly grassland leading into the hills. Several streams of water curled through the area, coming from the hills and leading to the big river.
The dwarves shouted their war-cry and ran forward with their swords, battle-axes and war hammers high in the air. The humans moved forward with their swords and shields, but the shields offered little protection and the swords couldn’t penetrate the armour or cut the steel pipes running across it. The human army did stop the march of the dwarves and killed several of them, but the casualties on the human side were greater. By the time a human had killed one dwarf, another dwarf had killed four humans.
Suddenly there was the sound of a whistle and the dwarves retreated as two cubes started to move forward. The retreat was watched with astonishment, because there was no reason for them to retreat. Soon the order to pursue the dwarves was given and the human soldiers followed them.
The two cubes continued forward and when there were no dwarves in front of them, two pipes on the front lowered with a grinding sound and unleashed white clouds. The humans hit by the hot steam screamed out in agony. The machine continued to move forward, going over the fallen soldiers. It unleashed the hot steam again and signal for retreat was given.
The people in the cage stared at the retreating army and the dwarves that went in pursuit.
“Well…” Andrus began. “It seems Steve was right, a quick victory for the dwarves. And more surprisingly, Trevor was wrong!”
“They’re not defeated,” Trevor protested. “They need to regroup and rethink their strategy.” He looked at the warmachines. “I failed to anticipate that too.”
“That is probably what that fog was,” Andrus said, thinking back to that moment, the fog had appeared rather quickly. “They were hiding behind that curtain of hot steam when they came to my fortress, but how can they produce so much of it?”
Trevor narrowed his eyes as he examined the machine. It was just guessing, but they were large enough to carry everything that was needed for the steam. “They must carry a lot of water with them too. Store it, heat it up with coal and release it.”
Steve shook his head. “Sir, just heating water can never produce steam like that.”
“That’s true,” Trevor muttered as he looked at Steve. “And don’t call me that.”
“What, sir?”
“I’m not in the army anymore, I’m not your superior officer. You don’t have to address me as such anymore.”
“Yes s-” Steve caught the warning look Trevor send him. “Okay,” he corrected himself quickly.
Suddenly Pete brought a finger to his lips to let his companions know they had to be silent. They all went silent and looked around, but there weren’t any dwarves approaching them.
“What?” Trevor whispered, but then he heard it too.
A faint huffing and groaning came from the side of the cart, accompanied by a tingling sound like keys hitting each other. And then a soft, melodic voice. “I could use some help!”
Pete stuck his arm through the bars and down the cart, he tried to see who was there, but he couldn't see anyone.
“A bit to the right…" the voice said. "A little bit more.”
Pete felt something grab his finger and he gently pulled in his hand. He stared at the light-orange dragon, with a body as long as his hand and wings like a dragonfly. It held on to his finger with clawed hands and in the hind paws she held a ring with keys.
“Mikhal send me to free you,” the small dragon said. “I’m Linda Demmie Autumnleaf.” She glanced around like a nervous cat and lowered herself. “Please hide me, dwarves don’t like dragons. Even small fairy dragons like me.”
They quickly put the fairy dragon between them. She released her grip on the keys and curled up on the floor, looking at the people around her.
“Where did you get the keys?” Andrus asked.
“I observed for a while and when I saw who had the keys, I waited for a good moment to take them.”
“And where is Mikhal?” Trevor asked.
Linda pointed with her tiny paw to the left. “Close, but not too close. He moved with the army, but at a safe distance. He made a camp in the hills.”
“And Mikhal is…” Andrus said as he looked at Trevor.
“A bard.” He paused and smiled a bit. “A friend. We were together when we first saw the dwarves. He went ahead to warn the king, I stayed behind.”
Andrus nodded and looked around. There were dwarves all around them, but not in a closed formation. A large portion had followed the retreating humans, but there were still too many dwarves around them to try to escape. “We need to cause a distraction,” Andrus said. “Something that will get most of them on our right side, so we can sneak away to the left towards the hills. Or we wait for the battle at Arnheim.”
Trevor shook his head when the second idea was mentioned. “That will be too late to escape. And I doubt they will send all the dwarves to attack the city.” He looked at the grazing mules. “If we manage to spook those and let them run towards the left…”
“I can do that!” Linda said as she flew up. “Open the door and hold on to something!”
“Wait!” Andrus said, but the fairy dragon slipped through the bars at the front and flew to the mules. “Crap. Keys!”
Pete hurried to grab the keys from the floor and scrambled to the door in the back to open it. Just as he unlocked it, Linda pulled on the left ear of the left mule, which brayed and ran to the left, the other following suit. The dwarves reacted immediately and ran towards the mules to stop them, but the mules were faster. The cart crashed into a tree and everyone fell against the bars. It wobbled dangerously, but didn’t fall over.
“Are we sure she’s here to free us and not to kill us?” one of the soldiers groaned.
“When the cart is unstable we try to topple it,” Andrus ordered. “Then we make a run for it. Linda, we need a sharp turn!”
Linda pulled on the ear again and the mule made another sharp turn to the left. When the wheels on the right side lifted from the ground, everyone in the cart moved to the left and the cart fell over, causing the mules to fall as well.
As the dwarves came closer they escaped one by one. Trevor was the first out, followed by Pete. Andrus pushed Steve ahead of the other soldiers and followed him. Behind them three more soldiers were able to escape before the first dwarves reached the cart and killed the next escaping soldier.
“We won’t make it,” Pete said after looking over his shoulder, the dwarves were surprisingly fast.
“We will,” Steve said as he grabbed a big stone from the ground. “I-”
“You are my best tracker,” Andrus said as he grabbed Steve’s arm and pulled him along. “You have no time for heroics. You and Pete stay with Trevor and I will-”
Linda joined them. “There is a stream ahead. They won’t drown in it, but they are heavy and the mud will slow them down.”
“Right. Everyone! Make a run for the water!”
Trevor reached it first and ran through the meter-wide, knee-deep water, followed by Pete, Steve and Andrus. When the soldiers behind them reached the water, so did the dwarves. As Linda had predicted, they short dwarves didn’t cross the water as easy and the four gained distance on them. They ran towards the east to cross a second stream and then towards the south. By then they couldn’t see the dwarves anymore, but they continued running.
“Where to?” Pete asked over his shoulder.
“Arnheim!” Andrus said, deciding it on the spot. He watched Linda fly away, he wasn’t sure where to, but right now that didn’t matter.
“Are we going to join the army and fight, sir?”
“That would be suicide, but the grand commander needs to know about what it can shoot. And if he commands us to fight we will. Understood, soldiers?”
“Yes sir,” both Pete and Steve replied.
“Trevor?”
“I’m not a fool, I’m not going to fight there. If that is your plan, I will go further into the hills and try to find Mikhal.”
“Then what?”
Trevor didn’t answer that, he didn’t know. It would depend on what would happen next, but he knew his sword wouldn’t make a difference in the upcoming battle.
Suddenly Andrus stopped running, the others followed his example and looked at him. “We need to warn them about the iron balls, but we need more information too. Maybe some of those dwarves are still following us. So… new plan! I go to Arnheim, you three capture a dwarf and when you have one you follow me. Preferably one with a beard and a gruff voice.”
Trevor sighed at the last addition of the plan. “Fine, we’ll capture a dwarf.”
“Like that one?” Steve asked, pointing in the direction where they came from.
Andrus looked at the dwarf covered in armour, the dwarf came down from the gentle slope, but he seemed to be alone. “I can’t assess the beard nor the voice from here, but it will do. New new plan! We capture that dwarf, interrogate and quickly go to Arnheim.”
“You know,” Trevor said after a sideway glance to Andrus. “You could have been a first major commander by now if you didn’t act like that.”
Andrus shrugged to that. “Steve, Pete, go to his right. Trevor and I will go to his left.” He watched the dwarf raise the battle-axe. “And I know everyone would like to have a sword right now, but we don’t have that luxury. Just get him down on the ground. Go!”
Everyone moved when the order was given, and the dwarf went towards Andrus and Trevor. The dwarf let out a battle cry and swung the blade towards them, both men backed away to stay out of reach. Mikhal appeared behind the dwarf and grabbed the handle of the battle-axe when the dwarf raised it above his head.
“I may be out of steam, but not out of strength!” the dwarf roared and pulled the axe down, pulling Mikhal over his back.
Mikhal fell to the ground and grimaced when landed on his shoulder. Before the dwarf could kill the bard, Trevor grabbed one arm and Steve the other. Pete and Andrus quickly joined in and they pushed the dwarf on the ground, who cursed them and their mothers for doing that.
Trevor removed the helmet and looked at the face of their captive while Steve helped Mikhal up. Aside from a scar on the forehead, the skin of the dwarf was smooth and his beard was black. With his dark-brown eyes he glared at them.
“Why are you invading us?” Andrus asked as he crouched down next to the dwarf, who didn’t answer him. “Those moving things that shoot iron balls, what are those?” The dwarf just looked at the sky. “You mentioned you were out of steam, but not out of strength, what did you mean with that?” Andrus looked at the glaring dwarf. “Say, that is some fine armour you have here,” he tried, moving his fingers over the breastplate. “How did you make it?”
When the dwarf still refused to talk, Andrus sighed and turned to Trevor. “Would you like to try?”
“I will persuade him to talk,” Trevor promised, and Andrus gave his approval with a nod.
“You can torture me all you want, I won’t say a thing!”
“It might take a while though,” Trevor muttered, frowning at the dwarf.
Mikhal sat down. “Don’t waste your time, it’s not like they accomplished that much. They put some iron sheets together, probably glued together with resin…”
“Don’t you know how difficult it is to make big sheets of steel?”
“And the new weapons don’t seem to be as strong as the last weapons I saw,” Mikhal continued, ignoring the previous comment.
“Are you joking? Our new steel is stronger than it ever was!”
“What did you do with it then?”
“I’m not going to explain that, you wouldn’t understand half of what I told you anyway.”
Mikhal nodded slowly. “You’re probably right. I don’t understand a thing about weapons or how to make them. But why are you here? To show off what you can do?”
“You don’t need to know.” The dwarf grumbled. “Just know that we intend to stay and with us we bring the future! Those who will not surrender will be killed, that is all you need to know.”
Trevor looked from the dwarf to Andrus and then to Mikhal. “Mikhal, lend me your knife. They took mine when they captured me.” He watched how the bard pulled a simple knife from under his cloak and offered him the handle. Without a word Trevor took it and with a swift movement stabbed the dwarf under his chin. The dwarf gurgled and grabbed his throat, blood oozing through his in metal covered fingers.
“He wouldn’t have talked and we’re wasting time,” Trevor said as he inspected the belt and pulled a short sword and a dagger from their sheaths. “Steve, Pete, these are for you. I’ll take the axe.” He noticed Mikhal stared at the dwarf and he seemed a bit pale. “Thanks,” he said as he offered him the knife back.
Mikhal blinked and looked at the blood-stained knife.
“I’m sure you’ve seen blood before, you told me you sometimes catch a rabbit.”
“Not exactly the same thing,” Mikhal muttered as he took the knife back and he took in a deep breath. Maybe it was the first time he had seen someone being killed, but he couldn't let it get to him. This was undoubtedly the first of many deaths he would witness. “What do we do now?”
“Back to Arnheim,” Andrus said. “We need to be there before those moving things arrive.”
“We have one horse,” Mikhal said, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder. “I tied it to a tree on the other side of the hill.”
“Good. I’ll take it and go to the city. You four come as well, but stay a safe distance away.”
“Sir, what happened to reporting to the grand commander and fight when we are ordered to?”
Andrus looked at Steve. “I only said that if the grand commander gave us the order we would fight. If you’re not there to get any orders, you can’t die or be taken prisoner by those dwarves. I have another task for you. Keep an eye on the situation from a distance, act only when needed.” He glanced towards Trevor. “Consider him your superior officer.”
“Now wait a moment,” Trevor began to protest.
Andrus rose a finger to silence him. “You served under me as my first officer and you were very capable. I trust you and I need your help. I need that loyalty you had for me back then.”
“You always had that, even when I left the army,” Trevor said, and he looked at the soldiers. “Very well. I’ll take command of them.” He narrowed his eyes. “And I expect you two to follow my orders.”
Both soldiers replied to that with a ‘yes sir’.
“Mikhal," Trevor said as he turned to face him directly. "You are free to do as you please, but I may need your help.”
“That’s why I didn’t leave the country. I’ll get the horse.” Mikhal quickly left. The others examined the plate armour of the dwarf until they heard the hooves of the horse pounding on the ground and looked up. Mikhal came down from the horse and gave the reins to Andrus, the fairy dragon sat on his shoulder, her tail gently moving from side to side.
“Be careful,” Trevor said as he watched Andrus get in the saddle.
“You too.” Andrus turned the horse and rode towards the capital city.
Trevor looked at the three men with him, two soldiers and a bard with a fairy dragon. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. “We’re leaving too.”
***
When Andrus came close to Arnheim he went to the southern gate, the defending army had gathered at the eastern gate and he needed to get to the palace. The gatekeepers let him in and he rode through the city to where he needed to be. The knights who were stationed outside the palace let him in and he went straight to the throne room, where the king was with his advisors. And grand commander Bendul.
Andrus reported what had happened when the dwarves had first appeared, and what their warmachines could do. “I suggest you evacuate the city if you want to minimize civilian casualties,” he said at the end of his report.
“You’ve seen them work," Bendul said, ignoring the comment for now. "What do you suggest we do against them?”
“Dig a big hole.”
Bendul frowned at Andrus. “Any short-term solutions?”
“No, sir. We can try our catapults and it may work, but I have my doubts.”
“Okay. Trenches.”
“Yes sir, that should halt their progress and keep them at a distance, but I’m unsure about the range they have. And it will be hard digging them with dwarves pounding on our heads with battle axes.”
Bendul didn’t seem pleased, but he nodded. While digging a hole, a trench, was a good idea, they wouldn't have the time to dig deep enough before the dwarves were there.
“Sir, the dwarf we questioned, he was pretty clear on one thing: we surrender or we die.”
“We do not surrender!” the king stated immediately.
“I agree with our king,” Bendul said. “Surrender is never an option.”
“You did hear how quickly the first battle was over, right? I witnessed it from the cage, we didn’t do well.”
“We have prepared other strategies now.” Bendul had a stern expression for him. “I hope you aren’t suggesting to surrender.”
“That is not my decision to make, sir. If you have faith in the strategies I will carry them out for you.” He saw Bendul nod. “Do you have orders for me?”
“Yes.” Bendul frowned as he looked out of a window. “Lead the evacuation. We will assign a section of the royal knights to that, but I need their first major commander and his officers to organize the defences of the palace. Let the citizens go westward. I will send a messenger ahead to the fortified cities in that direction to let them know about the situation and that they can expect refugees.” He looked at Andrus again. “Report to first major commander Irmo.”
Andrus saluted. “Yes sir.”
***
They began the evacuation at the east side and it had to happen fast, because the dwarves wouldn’t be far away. Andrus sat on top of the horse, overseeing the evacuation as the knights urged everyone in the right direction. The people of the east district had to disperse over the other directions. As long as the dwarves were still east from the city, all other gates were open to escape through. It was all a matter of keeping everyone moving.
The people were afraid, Andrus couldn’t blame them. It ached his heart to watch mothers clutching their crying children. These people had to leave their homes behind and it wasn’t even certain the battle would be won. Some decided to stay and were ready to fight the knights that wanted to drag them from their homes. Andrus ordered the knights to leave them be, they couldn’t waste time with persuading people if there were more pressing matters, like fights breaking out in the stream of people.
A few men came towards him with sticks. His hand moved to his sword, until he knew if they were angry with him or the dwarves he would keep his hand close to his weapon.
“We will defend our city!”
“Leave that to the army,” Andrus told him. “If you’re so eager to defend, defend those around you that can’t defend themselves.” He could see the anger, sadness and fear all battling for a place in their eyes. They held on to their sticks so tightly that the knuckles of their hands turned white. He could see the sticks shake. “Please, don’t try to attack them with sticks. You will die.”
“You can’t expect us to do nothing!”
“I expect you to flee! Your death here won’t make a difference, your life may make a difference on another day. Go!”
The men reluctantly turned around and walked with the stream of citizens.
A fire lit up above the gate, it served both as a warning that the enemy was in sight and as the source for the flaming arrows and balls they would shoot. Andrus rode towards the gate after he ordered the knights to continue their work. As he rode back he checked the streets to see if no-one was left behind.
“Are those moving things there as well?” he called out when he was close enough.
“Not yet, sir!” a soldier shouted back.
“For every rock you hit it with I’ll give you a jug of wine, so your aim better be good with that catapult!”
“Yes sir!”
He did a final check of the area as the battle began on the other side of the gate and rode back in the city to see how the evacuation was going there.
The evacuation went as well as could be expected. Some fights did erupt, but overall the people left the city in orderly, but hasty. As they were supposed to. The people that were adamant on staying behind were allowed to, but most chose to leave. Andrus rode behind the fleeing citizens with a royal knight on either side.
“Sir,” the female knight next to him said and Andrus looked behind him. Just in time to see a ball hit the first catapult and shatter it. Moments later three balls demolished the second catapult.
That could only mean one thing: those cubes were here. Which meant the dwarves had the means to break through the gates. “Direct everyone west and north now!" Andros ordered Don’t send any more people south!” The palace would be the next target and that was more towards the south. Many people would have escaped through there already and if the ones on that track kept moving they should be able to exit the city before the dwarves were there.
The orders were relayed to the front, shouted from knight to knight.
“Sir, you need to get yourself in safety too,” the female knight said.
Andrus looked at her. “Your name?”
“Rachel, sir.”
“Okay, Rachel, I’m not going to gallop through the citizens to get myself in safety.” He looked ahead. “If they keep up this pace, we’ll reach the gate before the dwarves are here.” He hoped. “Tell the front to go faster! Everyone in the back wait until the one in front of you goes faster, I don’t want to see anyone trampled, I swear I will leave the one doing the trampling for the dwarves!”
Everyone wanted to leave, but the last thing they could use now was panic. That would only clog up the escape route. That was exactly why he hadn’t used the words ‘the dwarves are here’ or ‘the dwarves have breached’. Sometimes ignorance could be bliss.
***
When the dwarves approached the city the catapults had taken several out, until they had come too close for the catapults to be fired. They had fought man to man in front of the eastern gate, instead of swords the humans used more bludgeoning iron weapons and they made an impact. They knocked helmets from heads and cracked ribs and breastbones by hitting the plate armour. Even though the humans were able to incapacitate more dwarves now, the dwarves moved forward gradually but surely, swinging with their sharp and heavy battle-axes, their light swords and finished fallen soldiers off with their daggers.
And then those vehicles approached. The catapults fired rock after rock at it and, as Steve had predicted, they made dents in the steel, but not severe enough to cause any damage. The dwarves opened the cylinders at the top and shot iron balls, first at the catapults and then into the city.
The dwarves retreated until they were alongside or behind their vehicles and others aimed their cylinders at the gate. The wooden gates were reinforced with iron, but it wasn’t enough to protect against the iron projectiles and the were shattered. The dwarves let out their battle cries and ran forward again, pushing through the army and into the city.
One of the vehicles opened and more dwarves came out, also wearing their full plate armour, but they weren’t armed with swords. They all had a big metal bag on their back and held a cylinder in their hands with a trigger below. As the human soldiers tried to understand what it was, they started shooting small iron balls with it. Soldier after soldier fell as the dwarves walked around, their blood staining the grass red.
Only a few soldiers managed to flee, a couple ran north, others south. Most of the army was defeated and the dwarves marched towards the palace.
At the palace they fought with their blades first, the well-equipped and well-trained knights made more casualties then the soldiers had, but the defences proved no match for the number of dwarves that had entered the city and the armour they had equipped themselves with. They entered the palace and fought their way to the throne room, where only a handful of people were: the king and his family, the grand commander, the first major commander of the royal knights and six of his most trusted knights.
The dwarves broke through the door, holding their blood-stained weapons.
“Surrender or die like the rest of your army!” one of the dwarves said.
That was when the king decided surrender was an option. The grand commander grudgingly followed suit. And with that the battle was over.
The dwarves had won.
With the capital city under their command the dwarves spread out over the country to show their authority. They started building mines to mine for more coal. They erected large facilities where they could make their steel sheets, parts and weapons. Smoke left through the chimneys day and night.
While they didn’t let any human near the coal-mines or any of the factories, they did let the humans gather water for them, which wasn’t as abundant in their own region as it was here. They made them provide food, transport metal sheets from the factories to where they were needed to be and do a lot of the manual labour needed to create their machines, while keeping the actual fabrication a secret. The last thing they wanted was for the humans to learn how to use the power of steam.
Many humans could live as they always had, as long as they paid taxes to the new dwarven rulers and adhered to the new laws.
A group of people had gathered in one of the inns that had remained open after the dwarves had taken over. Trevor, Mikhal, Steve, Pete and Andrus sat at a table. The last three dressed in civilian clothes, but with weapons hidden away. Andrus had been able to leave the city before the dwarves had taken over. When he had travelled from the west gate to the south gate to check the situation he had come across a soldier who stammered about the shooting devices the dwarves had. Then he noticed the flag of the kingdom lowered from its pole and not long after the dwarven flag hung in its place. That’s when he had decided to regroup with Trevor and the others.
The inn belonged to the parents of Mikhal and they allowed the group to stay there, free of charge. They were drinking when someone walked to their table.
Mikhal looked up and blinked in surprise. “Joris? What are you doing here?”
The man called Joris had a happy smile, as if the country hadn’t been conquered by dwarves. “Mikhal! I met a friend of yours not too long ago.” He pulled back a chair and sat down. “In Arthol,” he added in a hushed voice. “I met your lady there too, they were on their way to sail across the sea.” He saw how relieved Mikhal looked and smiled. “I can see why she stole your heart. Her brother was with her too. I asked them to take Lisanne with them and stayed behind to offer my help to you and Trevor.” He nodded towards him as he mentioned his name, a greeting Trevor returned in a similar way. “It’s quite a mess, isn’t it?”
“You should have sailed away,” Trevor stated.
“Well, I figured that you could use a thief. Since Mikhal thought it was dangerous enough to send his love to a safe place, but important enough to stay behind, I thought he could use my help.”
“How did you find us anyway?”
Joris smiled. “That wasn’t hard, I know how to find people. I listen to gossips, I talk to people and I use the knowledge I have about people.” He opened his arms. “This is the place where he asks his friends to send letters.”
Andrus examined him more closely. “We can use your help,” he said. “We could use more warriors too. That being said,” he looked at Mikhal. “You need to learn to fight.”
“I’ve never needed to fight before.”
“That’s true,” Trevor said. “I’ve seen him talk his way out of a situation with four swords pointed at him.”
“Even so, it would be foolish to not carry a weapon.”
Mikhal looked at his mug before he looked at the officer. “Do you have the time to teach me how to use a sword? And will I be good enough to defend myself against a well-trained dwarf?”
Before Andrus could answer, Trevor looked at him. “I’m sure you remember how hard it was to swing a sword in the beginning,” he said. “Training muscles takes longer than we have. Mikhal is right, he’ll never be good enough fast enough.”
“And a bow and arrow?” Pete suggested.
“That could work,” Andrus said. “We’ll do that.” He looked at Mikhal to see if he agreed.
“I did fire a bow a few times before, I should be able to get better at that soon enough.”
“Good.” Andrus looked at the new arrival. “Trevor, you know this guy, right?” He saw Trevor nod. “And you trust him?”
“I think he can be valuable to us.”
“Do you have any weapons?” Andrus asked Joris.
Joris shrugged a bit. “I never needed weapons, I’m quick and agile. I can juggle pretty well.” He grinned when he saw disappointment in Andrus’ eyes. “And I’m fairly good with throwing daggers, I have some hidden on me at all times, but I only used them against evil trees when I was bored.”
“Okay,” Andrus said, nodding and showing a serious expression, “so we won’t have to fear evil trees if you join us. You’re in!”
Joris chuckled and bowed. “And what’s the plan?”
“Get our freedom back,” Trevor said, just before taking a sip from his ale.
Mikhal smiled a bit. “We need more allies and gather information first. We will focus on that for now. Once we figure out their weakness, we can fight back.”
They ate a meal together and retired for the night. Trevor, Andrus, Pete and Steve shared a room. Mikhal slept in his own bedroom, his parents kept it free for him so that he would have a place to sleep every time he returned to the inn. He invited Joris to sleep in the room as well, he would put a spare matrass on the ground for him. An invitation Joris accepted.
They both sat on their matrasses when Mikhal’s mothered entered the room.
“Please be careful,” she said as she sat down next to her son. “I know you will leave on a dangerous journey tomorrow, and…”
“I will look after myself,” Mikhal promised, giving his mother a quick hug. He had accepted years ago that no matter how old he would get, his mother would always worry. She had worried the first time he had left the inn to travel around and try to live by singing songs and playing his lute. He could only image how much more she worried now that he would stand up against the dwarves. “I have you and Catheryn to return to after all," he added, hoping he would be able to.
Linda flew up from the pillow. “I will stay with him,” she promised. “I will look after him!”
Mikhal’s mother smiled at the fairy dragon, took her sons head in her hands and put her forehead against his. After that she stood up. “I will make sure you all will have a decent breakfast before you leave.”
“I think everyone will be grateful for that,” Mikhal said with a smile and watched his mother leave. While there was no doubt in his mind she would worry about him and the others, she wouldn't try to stop them. She believed in their cause as well and Mikhal was grateful for the support.
Joris lay down on the matrass. “Your mother is a kind woman. I understand why she’s worried though.”
Mikhal hummed agreeingly. “The six of us against the dwarves. Four military men and two who travelled the country and lived off the land and its people. I played for them. You emptied their pockets.”
“I only took from those who could miss it,” Joris defended himself.
“I know. I’m glad you joined us.”
“It will be an interesting adventure.”
Again came an agreeing sound from Mikhal, followed by a yawn. They wished each other a good night and fell asleep.
The next morning the group of six men and a fairy dragon left the inn, after a good breakfast they were ready to fight back against the dwarves. It wouldn't be easy and it wouldn't be over soon, but they were certain they would succeed one way or the other.
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