That morning was spent resting...sleeping actually. Neither dwarf nor human
had the strength to travel more. Camp was made and watch called. The
two dwarves would not allow Fred to have that responsibility, so Fred just
relaxed, as best he could under the circumstances anyway.
He lay himself beside a boulder, his pack next to him. He looked about the place, the terrain was rocky hillside. Below was that evil stretch of Foxes Forest, though Fred would tell the Society of the Royal Cartographers to label it 'highly dangerous' and a place of phantoms. Indeed, mused Fred, perhaps it should be re-christened Haunted Wood! Above the encampment was more hillside, more boulders, some scraggly bushes, but few tall trees. Fred was glad that that was the case. Between bouts of wakefulness and unconsciousness the mind of the traveling knight shifted uneasily between dream and memory. When Fred awoke again, it was to the sound of conversation. Both Dokken and Lem were sitting by the fire cooking some bits of meat. Besides the raggedness of Dokken's slooped shoulder, the two of them seemed refreshed, more so than Fred at any rate. Fred knew that dwarves needed far less sleep than humans did, that was just one of many things that distinguished the two races. Unaware that Fred was awake, they continued the conversation they had been having. Perhaps recent events had made them less careful than usual. "I can't believe that we're here of all places," Lem was saying. "I would've called you stark raving MAD if you'd suggested it to me earlier" answered Dokken. "But there's no mistaking it, that witch is Aelishanodevierith and that means were in Brahk'denKeruth." "Who could've guessed we'd stumbled upon this place? After so long the blood of that earth below us is still fresh! By the Beard of Zharnn himself, the Brahk' is still taking dwarvish lives!" "Aye...the Battle of Mith'Gul et Drouw ended more than eleven thousand years ago. Look at this place; hill and forest and the height of Ginn'thut! The tale of the Betrayal of Drouw Aelishanodevierith has been sung at the time of atonement for many long seasons, yet always the land was spoken of as rolling plain good for the vine." "We knew that the Brahk' covered lands along the mountains of Ginn'thut, yet we have not traveled in empty lands since the Fall. Even in our seeking of the Dragonhorde [#4286] we came from the southern earthen halls," said Lem. "Aye, Arn and Tarin had no idea where they were sending us when they told us to take the human to the northern reach of the Ginn'thut," said Dokken. "Blast it all! Blast Arn and blast Tarin! Blast and double blast the fool mag! If it weren't for him, then we wouldn't be needing to add the name of Baren-Ghazh'en to the list of the drouw's victims!!! The only consolation is that he fell to a jhuektuel, to a 'wild thing' rather than to her wiles or her dark magics." "Yes, that be true." Then it seemed that Lem showed a tiredness deeper than mere fatigue, he sighed as he said, "We be too few, brother. Our people once ruled this land of Brahk'denKeruth, we dug her roots, we ate her minerals, we drank her sweet milk. And not only the Brahk' but all the greater lands going into what the humans now call Califi, Allaria, Calamari, and beyond!" "Bah!" grumbled Dokken. "Those are human words, human names! We still have our own, we still remember what the land is truly named." "Yet we forgot how the land changes its face. We didn't recognize the land of the Battle, and that Drouw nearly killed us all with her lifeless hands. This land has no humans, no elves; it has no settlements where our eyes can penetrate and so we let it go, we let it alone and it grew different from what our memories recalled. We have eyes in MalBoncton and Hespa--" Lem's voice cut off as he noticed the quiet form of Fred watching them from the corner of a boulder. He changed his demeanor almost immediately. "Why isn't it nice to see you are awake," he said with a smile that belied a more serious emotion. "How did the SwordSlave rest?" asked Dokken mockingly. "Did you try to toss that metal again only to have it stick to your fine, soft fingers?" Fred knew that they were trying to change the subject, yet he also knew that he needed to learn more of what they spoke. They seemed to know more of the Forestlands than they had said earlier. It sounded as if they sang of it but never traveled to it, until now, and that experience took the life of one of their own...and then he recalled the dwarvish skull they had found with the hanging bodies, who was that?!? He thought he had heard the name of Alice de Vere, as well, though some of the dwarves' words were strange to his ear. He had been convinced of her goodness when she had led him out of the forest, and it had been a shock to witness her dark side. And now these dwarves spoke of her as 'drouw' whatever that meant. What did any of this mean, and could this knowledge help Fred stay alive longer than shorter, and reach his own home in one piece? Yet these were dwarves, and angry ones at that. Confrontation with them would do no good. He would need to bide his time and think of indirect ways to get the knowledge he sought.
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12/30/1999 10:37:20 PM
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