Tranquil Fury (35 page)

The massive frost bear roared as Aaro and Bor raced towards their father. The beast turned to face the motionless dwarf on the ground.
IT too late. IT tried. Not good enough.

Bor screamed so loud, birds for miles took flight. The frost beast looked up, as metal clad, battle enraged, axe waving dwarves raced down towards him. As the distance narrowed, the white frost beast, now mostly red, turned, slowly headed into the forest, leaving a trail of blood-soaked leaves where it passed. Bor and Aaro pulled their ponies to a hard stop, almost throwing the enraged dwarves to the ground. Aaro jumped off, went to his father’s side, Bor, eyes filled with vengeance, followed the blood trail into the forest. He returned twenty minutes later, vengeance unsatisfied, to find Aaro kneeling beside the motionless body, his brother’s tears spoke the words that Aaro could not utter. Bor knelt down beside his breathless father, wanted to curse him, and his forge baked brain, wanted vengeance.

It took a few minutes, but Aaro finally spoke, “Frost beast not Pappy did kill. Black-clad sword, end his life it did.”

 “Frost beast. Why protect Pappy?”

“Brother, strange this is, answers, none I have.”

Bor stood, wandered to where the bodies of the black-clad soldiers were scattered, kicked each one, hoping that one still breathed, would be a target for his anger. The ground was red, red as the rage in Bor’s eyes, but none would rise to his battle challenges that he screamed at them. Bor returned to Aaro, helped to gently place their father on the distraught pony. They walked in silence up the hill, each holding one of the reigns of the pony with their father on it, their mounts, obediently following. With heavy hearts, they took to the saddle, and started the silent journey to the mine. When they came to the section where the east and south roads met, Aaro turned to the Ironhouse Mine, to take his father home. Bor headed east, to look for his brothers, to deliver the news they would not want to hear.

It was past noon when Gor saw the two ponies crest the hill, only one rider sitting upright in the saddle. As he rushed down to the stable entrance, John, Ryan, and Eric fell in behind him. He pushed open the stable door, saw Aaro, saw the look on his face, and screamed. Aaro dismounted his pony in the field, led both into the stable, the Master Weapon Smith was returning home for the last time, the body draped over the second pony, lifeless, looked wrong. Aaro went over to his father, cut the straps that held his feet tied to the stirrups, and went to the other side, cut the straps that bound his hands. He slowly pulled his father off the pony, cradled him in his arms, and took him to a nearby table. Like a punctured bellows, the Master Weapon Smith was broken, and Walward Ironhouse was no more.

Aaro, with his back to the group, his eyes wet with dwarf tears started, “Tracks none to follow, brothers split up we did. Bor and I south we rode. Hillcrest, spot Pappy we do, black-clad soldiers, with him there are. Pony stupid, wanders fast it did. Far away we were, chance none to act.” Aaro paused, “Odd next it does be, question me not. Frost bear huge, from forest comes. Bear white, black-clad battle it does. Before we arrive, frost beast gone, black-clad no more, Pappy…” It was a simple word, four letters, yet Aaro could not say it, dead. He slammed his axe into the stone floor, the dwarven edge strong, stone cracked, accepted the unspent rage of the Master Apprentice. Aaro could not face his brother, did not know what to say. He headed over to a different table, stripped off the heavier sections of armor, threw them at the wall, screamed. When he was down to the padded armor, he headed to the exit, “Forge, start I will,” and then left the stables.

Gor, tried his best to hold back the tears, but as his brother exited the mine, Gor’s tears came forth. He went to his father, saw the gaping sword wound, screamed. Gor had retrieved his axe from the kitchen while they had waited for his father to return, in case there was danger. Gor placed his axe in the stone floor with the same anger as Aaro, screamed again.

Ryan, John, and Eric just looked at each other, not sure of what they should do, tears forming, choked with sadness, unable to speak.

Eric realized something had to be said, approached Gor, “Your father was a great man. Is there anything we can do?”

Gor did not turn to meet Eric’s gaze, “Back, bring him?”

 “Gor, if I could I would. I can’t”

 “Brother Eric, know this I do. Still….”

Eric stepped forward, wrapping his arm around Gor, “What happens now?”

Gor pushed Eric’s arm off him, “Tradition. Aaro forge does fire bring. Pappy and forge, together they will be.” Gor was always the most considerate of the Ironhouse brothers, but today was different, “Alone, leave me now.”

Eric realized there was nothing he could do or say, and re-joined John and Ryan. They wandered out of the stable entrance into the grassy field. “What did Gor mean when he said Aaro was lighting the forge John?”

“I think they are going to cremate their father.”

The three boys waited outside of the stables, saw the silent four dwarves ride back. They watched as one by one, each brother went up to their father’s lifeless body on the table. Four more axes, rage unsatisfied, were buried into the rock floor of the stables. Aaro returned an hour later, went to his father, gently picked him up from the table, and headed out the back door. John, Eric, and Ryan started to follow, but Bor just held up his hand, they were not welcome.

Chapter 25

The next day, three suns rose high into the sky. Deep in the mine, six dwarf sons shrouded themselves in the dark. John, Eric, and Ryan were still confused, and distressed at what had happened the previous day, still not certain of what they should do.

Zack wandered into the silent dining room, no food to greet him, confused at his three friends sitting around the table, their expressions sorrowful, “Dudes, what’s happening? Where is the grub?”

 “Something happened yesterday,” stated Eric, “The Master Weapon Smith, he wandered off and was killed. His sons cremated him yesterday.”

Zack turned around, headed into the kitchen, returning with a large pitcher of ale and four mugs, “Funerals suck.”

John could not believe what he was seeing, “How can you drink at this time of the day, especially with what we just told you?”

“I do my best lamenting, when drinking something that has been fermenting.” Zack set the tray down and pulled up a chair, “So what happened?”

The detached emotionless void that Zack displayed was beginning to annoy Ryan, “You need to be more respectful when the brothers show themselves, otherwise they might just kick your ass buddy.”

John added, “Their father wandered off yesterday, ran into some black-clad soldiers, the soldiers killed him.”

 “That’s a crappy way for Pappy to go. When’s the funeral?”

John just shook his head, “They cremated him yesterday.”

Zack took a drink of his cold ale, “Lit up one more time, I always wanted to go that way.”

 “Zack, they were really upset yesterday.” Eric tried to warn him, “If you talk to them this way, I don’t think you will like what happens to you.”

 “Lost two parents already, been there, done that.”

Eric tried to get through to Zack, “Listen, they were really upset. You better be careful what you say to them.”

 “Well, maybe they are the ones that should have been more careful, made sure that their father couldn’t walk farther than they could see.”

 “That’s cold Zack,” John could not believe his ears.

 “Actually, it is my beer that is cold. Me, I’m more lukewarm. I feel for the little dudes. I may not have written the book about loss and disappointment, but I have had it read to me so many times, it is simply a fairy tale that does not end well for me. Yeah, death sucks. Murdered in cold blood, it sucks even more. But if you think there is something that you can say, that will make them feel better, lessen the anguish they feel, well you’re wrong. Pretty sure I have heard every stupid line that somebody can say to try to make ‘themselves’ feel better, that they have met some sort of social obligation. Besides, aren’t you overlooking something?”

Eric didn’t know if he should feel sorry for Zack, or smack him, “What have we forgotten?”

 “Old Dude was killed by black-clad soldiers. How much longer before they start knocking on our door here, wanting to spoil our little party?” Zack drank in silence, as the others realized that their serene peace at Ironhouse was most likely going to end soon, and not in a good way.

At some point in the morning, the four boys went into the kitchen like a pack of mice, routed through the cupboards, looking for crumbs to satisfy their hunger. They waited in the dining hall for several hours, hoping one of the Ironhouse brothers would end his mourning, and let them know what they could do to help. But after several hours of waiting, Zack grabbed a fresh pitcher of ale, headed to the terrace that overlooked the mountain valley, and the others followed, as did the uneasy feeling of the unknown.

The suns were high in the sky, when Eric spotted Mirtza’s wagon enter the valley, and all but Zack rushed down to the stables to greet their returning friends. As Eric pushed open the stable door, Mirtza led his wagon into the stables, followed by the elves on their stags.

Alron noticed the missing dwarfs, “Where does brothers Ironhouse be?”

Eric closed his eyes, bowed his head, “Their father wandered off, ran into some black-clad soldiers who killed him. They cremated him the other day.”

Lauren and Gingaar gasped in horror, as Alron jumped off his stag, “Son of a wood sylph. Earth Daughter, does I presume that south does by thine direction?”

 “I think so?”

Alron shook his head. He needed the Earth Daughter to believe, to be decisive, “Other directions canst be chosen if thou does desire?”

 “I know Alron. I know there is nothing to the north. Threats occupy the east, and we cannot go west as there are no passes through these mountains this far north. So yes, south we will be going.”

 “Thank thou Earth Daughter. I does go to find brothers Ironhouse, and we shalt meet in dining hall and exchange stories shortly.”

As Lauren jumped out of the wagon, she approached John, “What happened?”

 “The Master Weapon Smith wandered off. I think he may have been coming down with a dwarven form of Alzheimer’s. He saddled up a pony, and rode out of the mine for some reason. By the time Aaro and Bor found him, it was too late.”

Death was all Lauren could think about, “Are they ok?”

John replied, “All of the brothers are fine. When they finally found their father, a frost beast, I guess they mean a polar bear, burst through the forest, and killed all of the black-clad soldiers. When they came back to the mine, they cremated their father, and we have not seen them since.”

 “Frost beast? Polar bear, are you serious?”

 “You will have to ask them yourself. How was your trip?”

 “Good. Bad. I don’t know. We also came across a large camp of black-clad soldiers. I didn’t think they would be this far west, or I guess I was hoping they wouldn’t be. We have to get out of here before they trap us.” Lauren turned towards Mirtza, “Before we leave, find a stone or something that only calls Ironhouse home. Everybody else, let’s go up to the dining room.”

Alron arrived ten minutes after they had all entered, and advised the brothers would be down within the hour. Gor was the first to enter, and went straight to the kitchen. Aaro and Bor were next, followed shortly by the three remaining brothers.

Lauren went up to the brothers, grief still written on their faces, beards still wet with tears, “I am so sorry for your loss. The Master Weapon Smith was a great man.”

Aaro stepped forward, the eldest, it was his role at times like this to speak for the Ironhouse clan; his clan now, “Great was his life Earth Daughter, much he did forge. Smith’s many, taught he did. But metal, too long forge left, soft it does go, too soft. To Pappy, same does happen, forged baked his mind, soft as well. His end was near, this we did know. But death senseless, dwarf worthy, not it is. Tragedy made worse, sons to late, revenge frost bear stolen. Ironhouse axes and honor, robbed, unsatisfied.”

Lauren felt for the brothers, losing a father to a senseless accident, she felt the purple hair caress her cheek, started twirling it, and felt the emotions from Samantha’s senseless death try to crawl out of the black void where she had trapped them.

As Lauren fought her inner emotions, Bor stepped forward, “Sad it is, but Pappy and forge, together now they are. Tradition satisfied. His forge, Pappy did give birth to. Life he gave forge, forge gave him life. Both old and broken, one now they be.”

Lauren let go of her hair, grasped her tri-wood staff with both hands, hoping it would somehow grant the strength she would need, “I wish there was something more we could do, but when we took the Earth Mother to her tree, we encountered a large force of black-clad soldiers. I have been chosen,” and then staring at Alron, “and asked to lead, to find the midlanders, elves, dwarves, and others. To show them the truth, there is no plague, that their lands are being invaded. I was hoping it was a small army, but now I am undecided. We need to find those willing, push the invading force back. I don’t think we can stay here any longer. I am afraid if we do, the black-clad soldiers will trap us here.” Lauren moved to the center of the room, “We need to head south, find those that fled. My Earth Guard has advised that where I go, they go. And I have a funny feeling Logan will be going with me. I think Eric should go with us as well, hopefully we will be able to find somebody to train him how to use that sword.” She looked down at Aaro and Bor, the Earth Mother had said they would go with her, but she wanted it to be their choice, not force them, “I am hoping once we head south, they will not find Ironhouse Mine. You should be safe here, and some of my friends may want to stay with you as well.”

Aaro cracked his massive knuckles, “Stay they can, alone they will be. Master Weapon Smith, his forge leave, never he does, tradition it does be. Reasons to stay, none we have. My axe, revenge find here it will not. Black-clad, lessons taught they must be, Ironhouse, teach them we will. Leave without us, you shall not. Earth Guard, good they may be, but many to protect there are. Ironhouse, to the end, with Earth Daughter and friends will be.”