FSE

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The second chapter in my story. I hope you enjoy.

-2-

"No, Ethelred, we really can't afford to have you go. What will you be paid? There's nothing really we need that we can't afford," Erenred chided, growing more impatient with his son. "Listen, my boy, I know that you want some sort of adventure, but you mother and I need you around here. Erenwald is hardly reliable, and Erewyn is young still. We need you to help us run the bakery." Ethelred stood, silently pacing the floor of the bakery, "Dad, look, I know that Erenwald is hardly trustworthy, but I'm afraid that these travelers are in mortal danger if they are indeed being pursued like they claim. If I were to let them travel by the main road, there is a good chance they could meet someone they don't want to."

"What is it that they bring to Brarhapa?" Erenred asked, eager to get his son to admit the unimportance of the journey. "Information, as best I could tell," Ethelred whispered, "sensitive information that they wouldn't tell even to me. They wanted to travel in secrecy so that they wouldn't be discovered by people of a someone they call 'The Enemy.' I don't know who they're talking about or why he is their enemy, but they all sounded deathly afraid of this enemy and his servants. And I'll only be gone for a week if all goes well--and I foresee no trouble on the roads I plan to take."

Erenred sighed, defeated, "Ok, Ethelred, you may go to Brarhapa to escort these men. The money will be welcome, even if it means I will be stuck with the failing help of Erenwald for a week. I heard from your sister about the incident this morning. I understand needing to have clothes tailored and let out," and here, he looked down at his stomach, which hung well over the waist of his pants when he sat, "but the hubris of not admitting it is quite an embarrassment. What will I do with that boy? Are these dwarves the same men you mean to accompany to Brarhapa?" Ethelred nodded, "They are. They seem to be good men, and have even discussed paying me upfront--here and now."

Erenred's face brightened a bit, "Well, that's welcome news. I'll be sure to spend it judiciously." And with that, Erenred dismissed his oldest son. Having told his mother that he was leaving, Ethelred left the house of his parents and set out for the bar.

When he arrived, it was about three-quarters of an hour after dark. Ethelred sat down and ordered a pint of a dark, amber-colored beer. It was cold and refreshing, and it's taste wonderful. But as he was taking a swig, he felt the smack of a hand on the back of his head, a meaty thud nearly had him spitting his drink all over the bar. "Idiot!" Ethelred hear Bellem hiss, "now is not the time for drinking! We need you with a clear head and keen eyes. We'll be travelling as soon as we've eaten! No more alcohol! Finish what you've got and get a glass of water, boy. You want this job, don't you?"

Ethelred turned, "I'm sorry, sir, force of habit. I'll think better next time. I'm not terribly smart or wise, sir. Please excuse me." Bellem smiled, "It's fine; you're a big fella, that little pint probably barely gives you any buzz. How long ya been here?" Ethelred told him about 10 minutes at that point. "Well, that's good. Is this your first?" Ethelred nodded, and Bellem wiped his brow, "Ok, ok, then you're ok. I assume you can keep your liquor?"

"Sir, I've drunk 10 pints of beer in a night and been intelligible. Last night, when you met me, I'd had about 8, and I wasn't terribly drunk, was I?" Bellem smiled, "Attaboy, you'll make a fine companion, as expected of a creature so big. Ah! Here come the rest of the boys!"

Ethelred turned to see the rest of the group of dwarves coming down from the upstairs of the tavern. They were a lively crew, happy and noisy. The quiet houyhnhnms seemed to think them all a bit of a handful, but Ethelred found them amusing. Even though they were stingy, they frequently sang choruses of drinking songs and livened the room, seeming to add warmth and joy as they went. As the meal wore on, the room warmed to them, and the instruments some brought out made their songs sweeter after the musically inclined dwarves taught the houyhnhnms how to play the songs. They were homespun, simple, and quick, but they were beautiful in their own way. The songs were not the celestial music of the elves, but the simple songs of working men striving to keep themselves from going mad with tedium.

The table manners of the dwarves were relaxed, and there was much belching, food shoveling, slurping, and tearing of food with teeth, but there was no lip-smacking, no flatulence, no food spilled, no walking on the tables, no shoving food in each other's mouths, and no shenanigans. The dwarves merely looked like a horde or ravenous men while they weren't singing. Even though Ethelred had eaten with his family, he ate a meal with the dwarves before bringing his payment to his father, it was a bag of 50 gold dwarven coins, the finest coins in the world by the reckoning of all acquainted with money.

His mother then supplied him with a weeks' worth of provisions in a bag to carry with him--it was an old knapsack they used to carry things to market with.

The meal consisted of buttered corn grits, pan-fried potatoes, and a cobb salad with a variety of wild and domestic plants. The dwarves smiled at the grits and potatoes, and ate the salad, even though dwarves prefer hot food to cold food. "I wish we had some meats here," one of the dwarves muttered before his neighbor smacked him on the leg under the table.

Having finished their meal about an hour and a half later, Bellem paid for his meal and all of his companions', including Ethelred's. Ethelred smiled and thanked Bellem for his kindness. "You didn't have to," he protested, "I'm perfectly capable of paying for my own meals." Bellem looked at him and gave Ethelred a disappointed look, "You should know, Ethelred, that it would make me look bad not to pay for your meal. For an employer to pay for an employee's meals is expected of a dwarven employer, and not to brag, but merely to mention that I probably have many times the amount of money you have. So, please, allow me." And with that, Bellem payed for the meal.

With that, the company set out, headed for Brarhapa.

The first night of travelling from Mrahina was an easy trek through plain farmland, past many sleeping villages similar to Mrahina, and past many a sleepy and unsuspecting sentry. When they were not near any town, Bellem permitted the company to speak quietly amongst themselves, but seeing that the dwarves had much shorter legs than him, Ethelred frequently had to wait for the rest to catch up. This didn't afford him many opportunities to talk with the dwarves. But Laimonuit the elf, who was nearly as tall as Ethelred, and much nimbler on his feet, had no trouble keeping up with the fat houyhnhnm. So the two of them were frequently leading the party, and in waiting, Ethelred began to talk.

"So where are you from?" Ethelred innocently asked to Laimonuit. At this Laimonuit sighed, his eyes grew despondent, and he hunched over as if he were cold, "I am from the elvish town, though by your standards it would be a great city--for it is twice the size of Brarhapa--Gira Kobol. It is in the eastern reaches of the elvish land. Gira merely means 'city' in Elvish and kobol, well, if you know what a kobold is, it is easy to imagine what a kobol_is." Ethelred's eyes grew wide, "A dragon. His mouth went agape. So then you've seen a dragon? How beautiful creatures they are in our stories! And how frightful, strong, and proud! I have heard the stories of the great Grahanja, the golden dragon of the Khonul Rheul! How strong he was when he fought with us against Depsonius! Or Rakharna, his mate, the great ruby-red fire-breather! How magnificent their stories are! How they were fifty feet long and 15 feet tall and could shoot flames of molten fire that melted the wall at Girakobolehruit, the greatest city of the elves of under Desponius. What does _ehruit? Mean, though, Laimonuit?"

Here, Laimonuit bent his head in shame. His eyes seemed to well with tears for a moment before he whispered, "A tamer or a controller." The whispering broke Ethelred out of his excitement just as the dwarves caught up. Laimonuit said nothing more until they got far ahead of the dwarves again until finally he broke the silence. "Ethelred, there are those among my people, those among my people who would wish to reclaim the title they think by right that we deserve: kobolehruit. Dragon-tamer. Although ehruit has a darker historical connotation, when elves would take dragon eggs, hatch them, and enslave the dragons into their service. The dragons are fully sentient creatures, mind, and can make their thoughts known to others, though that is often pictorial and rudimentary. Even still, it is quite effective. Nevertheless, the dragons live in a sad state of affairs to this day."

And here, again, Laimonuit went quiet as the dwarves came within earshot again. And again, the elf and the houyhnhnm went trudging forward again, each with a heavy heart. When they had at last come out of earshot of the dwarves, Laimonuit continued, lowering his voice to barely a mutter. "The dragons... The dragons that you spoke of, Grahanja and Rakharna, are long dead--centuries at least. And their descendants demanded from the elves a tribute, or really a retribution, for the offenses committed under Desponius. They demand of my people sums of cattle, pigs, sheep, and deer. Originally, this was intended to be a temporary measure, intended to pay for the wrongdoings of my ancestors.

"But as many such schemes do, the dragons demanded that the reparations be extended, saying that they had not been sufficiently compensated for the enslaving of their kind. And my people, believing that they would incur the wrath of the houyhnhnms, dwarves, and dragons, caved to the demands. After that time, there were, however, those among our lords who began again to want to control the immense powers that the dragons possess--and truly it is magnificent and terrifying. So, under the guise of reparations and of helping the dragons, who in their indolence had grown much less wise than the dragons of whom you speak. There are a few dragons, no more than perhaps 1000 of about the 10,000 who take no reparations from elves. But these dragons tend to be older, wiser dragons, who remember the original reparations of the elves, or those who have seen first-hand the weakness that the elvish reparations have brought."

Laimonuit spoke no more, however, of the dealings of the dragons or of his own city at that time, and he openly refused to say more. Eventually, Ethelred turned to Laimonuit and asked, "Laimonuit, what precisely do you do that allows you to eat every day? And how did you get mixed in with these dwarfish merchants?"

Laimonuit smiled. "I'm a clerk. Have you never seen the brown cloaks of the clericy before?" Ethelred shook his head, "Really? You really are untraveled and innocent as a lamb! We are a group of guardians of the truth. Or so we try to be. Sadly, we are imperfect, and seem to have grown more so with time. But our knowledge is still great, even if the library at Gira Ehrun is constantly spied upon by The Enemy. This company's hope is that the library at Brarhapa isn't watched by his servants."

And here, Ethelred spoke just as the dwarves came within earshot, "And just who is this enemy? Why have you made an enemy of him?" Here, Bellem stepped in, "We have not made an enemy of him. He is an enemy of all free people. He desires to bring them under his control--to rule them. We had hoped that he had died in the last great war, but we fear that he was let off the hook and given an exile. That mercy has come back to haunt us."

"Desponius has returned? After centuries of exile? As I recall, he was not young by elven standards when he took the throne," Ethelred gasped. "No, my boy," Bellem whispered, "Desponius was merely a pawn of the one we speak of. He is an older, more insidious enemy, one whose origins are unknown and whose power may well be greater than all the might of the dwarves, elves, and houyhnhnms--for that has never been tested or confirmed. But that's enough of such things. We must move on."

With that note of finality, the group moved on, and in their next stop, Ethelred asked Laimonuit what truths precisely he guarded. "Well," Laimonuit answered, "I am a guardian of magic beyond what you have studied. It's power too deep and complex for you to yet understand, but roughly, I am a mage that can manipulate what your mind sees. It is an art I learned from the dragons. It is powerful, but if wielded properly, it could have marvelous uses."

Ethelred frowned, "So something like mind control?" Laimonuit grimaced, "No, not mind control so much as mind manipulation. I can't make you do things or not do things directly, but I can make someone not be able to perceive you, but that puts tremendous strain on my reagents and my energy resources, because, you see, energy cannot be created or destroyed, merely converted from one form to another. For example, you could convert chemical potential energy stored in, say, your cells, into electrical energy that you can then use. The process is actually fairly simple and requires a common reagent that you could find easily in Brarhapa. It's called Eischomyuir. It allows you to convert chemical potential energy into electrical energy. If you want to, you could try it in my presence. Here, try and create an electric ring the size of the palm of your hand. Actually, let's wait 'til morning to do that. We don't want to be seen, least of all by Bellem." Laimonuit handed Ethelred the stone. Ethelred wondered what color it was.

As dawn approached, the group found an abandoned farmhouse in the middle of nowhere to make camp. The house was decrepit, obviously abandoned months or years previous, but suited the travelers just fine. In the house, Ethelred once again took out the stone, which he found to be pale blue or purple, like lightning. And here, Ethelred tried to summon the ring of lightning that Laimonuit had asked him to. Laimonuit, however, was asleep, not knowing what his pupil was doing. Suddenly, there was a spark that appeared above Ethelred's hand, then another, and soon, they were appearing in groups, and before he knew it, Ethelred had the ring of electricity above his hand. He held it for a few seconds before he felt another thought: hunger.

The hunger gnawed at Ethelred until it caused him to think about the hunger just long enough to lose focus. And then he shocked himself. The ring had accidentally touched his palm, and where it had touched the palm, a burn now appeared. It didn't appear too serious, but it hurt like hell and, more importantly, startled Ethelred, "Ah, shit!" He shouted, sucking at his palm. Everyone awoke with a start, Bellem jumped and grabbed his axe, "What boy, did you see something?" Then he saw Ethelred sucking his palm, "What are you..." He trailed off, "Boy, did you cut yourself? Burn yourself?" Laimonuit was now fully awake and had grabbed Ethelred's hand. "You shocked yourself, didn't you? When I used a royal 'we' in 'let's wait 'til morning,' that was not by accident. You could have done any number of things. Be smarter next time."

Ethelred nodded, when the rest of the group went to back to sleep, Ethelred took a loaf of bread and a cherry pastry his mother had sent with him and ate both. He nearly ate an entire day's rations before he felt anywhere close to satisfied. Ethelred wasn't sure whether this was because he hadn't eaten in close to ten hours or if the magic drained him that quickly. He decided it was some combination of both. Eventually, Laimonuit got up and relieved Ethelred, who gladly to the opportunity to rest. The lengthening spring day was nearly gone when Ethelred again opened his eyes, refreshed from the sleep. "Have a nice nap, sparky," one of the other dwarves asked, playfully jabbing at Ethelred, "I'm Alehem, by the way, nice to meet you, Ethelred, was it?" Ethelred nodded, "Yes, sir, and how did you come to know Bellem?"

Alehem laughed, "Well, Bellem and I met in Nazar-elhim, a dwarven city on the river Elhim, the border between Elvish lands and dwarven. He was looking for a travelling party to trade with the elves. I said I know some guys and have some business in Gira Kobol. He said that sounded good, but he had more business in Gira Ehrun. I had heard it was a beautiful city myself, and I had always wanted to go there, and he was paying me, so I went. But Gira Ehrun turned out to be less friendly than we anticipated. Beautiful city, the old parts at least, but the people seemed less than friendly and more than willing to turn our business away. Anyway, we got hit up by policemen asking if we had our permits. Neither Bellem or I had any idea what he was talking about, and I said, 'No, sir, we don't.' And they replied to us, 'You know there's a fee for outsiders to be operating in the city.' And Bellem looks at me and goes, 'Well, Alehem, you got any ideas?' And I say to them, 'Well, what'll it cost to get one of them permits?' And the officer says to me, 'Well, it'll cost 500 gold pieces.' And we both thought that was outrageous, so we said to 'em, 'We'll give you each 50 if you leave us to sell our wares.' They both nod, take the money, and walk off. Fortunately, there's a market for Dwarven jewelry anywhere in the world. So we marked up our prices and left. Since then, we've become good friends and have gone on many journeys together. I'm also the cook on the road, insofar as we cook."

Ethelred smiled, Alehem did look a bit more stout than many of his kindred, none of whom was particularly thin. "So what's Nazar-Elhim like?" Ethelred asked, hoping for a shorter answer.

"Nazar-elhim is a beautiful city, hewn into the side of the mountain, built of granite and marble. The main gate faces to the west and has many great carvings of ancient wars and kings and power. It's a trading outpost, though, designed mainly for trade with the elves. And since the elves have made trading more difficult in recent years, the city is falling on hard times. The city is constantly in need of money, merchants are squeezed, which makes us want to move, which further drives the problem. But it is still a beautiful and grand city in its own right, and largely resistant to the fire of the dragons."

"Speaking of the dragons," broke in Ethelred, "what has become of them? No one has been willing to tell me."

Alehem smiled sadly, "Well, many of the oldest dragons live in the east, in the arid deserts. There, food is harder to come by and living more difficult, so dragons are more difficult to come by, but they are lean and cunning, having lost none of the arts of their ancestors, and have learned a few more. We still have some dealings with them, though their numbers have dwindled, and many of their children have gone back west to the doting servitude to the elves. But I don't know as much as the two dragons studying magic in Brarhapa, Thranazar the drake and Iliagan the dragoness. Perhaps they could better explain the stupor of the dragons."

By this time, the sun was reaching its midpoint on the horizon, and Bellem was calling for the party to go. Thus began the second leg of the journey to Brarhapa.