Fantasy

Hi, I think Fantasy has always been my favorite genre. Starting back when I was a kid and Lord of the Rings. Here is the first short story in a series I am writing. Enjoy! Its called The Witch, the Dwarf, and the Wizard

The Witch, The Dwarf, and the Wizard

By

David McElligott

The Witch had planned carefully, as always, yet still things had gone wrong with her current endeavor. Perhaps it was her methods. No, she thought, it was not that. She didn’t know what had caused this little hitch in her plans, but here she was. She was being held by soldiers waiting for their leader. Presumably the man she had spent the previous night with, Geron. One soldier held each of her arms and another stood behind with a blade. She ignored their comments and taunts, admiring the view.

A little clearing on the mountain-side amid beautiful green fir trees. Finches were chirping and a nice light breeze rustled the branches, she found it pleasant. She was not too worried about her situation, there had to be a way out, there always was. Until Geron rode in with a large company of men, then she began getting worried. The company moved over to the side of the clearing, but he rode forward stopping about ten feet away looking down at her. This made her a little nervous.

The Witch smiled lovingly and tossed her hair. She would have struck a pose but her arms were still being held. Geron looked her athletic, lean, attractive body up and down. He studied her carefully.

“There are two things puzzling me about you. The first being, why would a witch give a wizard a love potion?” The Witch lost her smile and her eyes widened. Oops, she thought, wondering how she had missed that.

“I see, you didn’t know. That makes you a little less stupid.” The Witch sneered at him. If she had known she would have made a better potion.

“The second puzzle in my mind is why you want this.” He reached into a saddle bag and pulled out a bottle of green liquid with a faint spark in it. That was the whole reason she was in this predicament. It should have been simple. Love potion, to a night of passion followed by him giving her anything she wanted. That bottle to be precise. She shrugged.

“I collect old things that’s all. I don’t suppose you are done with it.” Geron laughed at her with more gusto then she thought the comment deserved.

“You really want this just because you like old things? The only reason I have it is that it is a family heirloom. Rumored to be beyond ancient, yet useless to anyone anymore. There are no magical properties at all, it is a thing made for the world this one used to be. Witches do not collect useless things.” That did deserve a laugh and she did, enjoying both the moment and his comment. When she was jerked from one side to the other by her captors she calmed down and apologized.

“Really, I am sorry, but that is wizard thinking. As you said, I am a witch. I collect anything old and new and have no idea what will fascinate me next. It is a trait I have in common with many witches, ask anyone.” He shook his head not buying it.

“And so going on the information you probably read about somewhere, you risked using a potion to get me to give it to you. There must be more to it than that. You could have simply asked me to sell it to you, I might have done so, you could not have known.” He was truly trying to understand and obviously was not wanting to believe the truth. Yet it was the truth.

“Believe me Geron when I say, what you suggest would have been boring, no fun at all.” He remained silent for a moment and then raised his hands in defeat.

“I do not believe you and I have many more pressing issues and fascinations of my own I am in the middle of going after. I will not waste the time or that of my men babysitting you to get the information out of you. Last night was fun Laurel, but you have become a risk.” He glanced at the men holding her.

“Leave her for the wolves.” What! The Witch thought in response.

“What!” She said loudly and with a gesture, Geron rode off with his troop following. The Witch faked struggling weakly, until they were out of sight. Then she whipped her right arm free, reaching for her sword while trying to turn away and free her other arm. Just as that one came free she felt a blade enter her lower back from behind. She screamed and one of the soldiers mailed fists hit the side of her face with a loud cracking sound, she hit the ground.

Through the vicious pain, she tried to push herself up, determined to get out of this. An arm was kicked out from under her and she heard another crack and another bolt of pain racked her body. She felt her sword taken and began struggling as they tugged at her witch pouch! She screamed in rage trying to fight against the pain, then felt a kick that rolled her over and a sound of hooves getting louder. Her ankle exploded in pain as did her ribs and head as she rolled along the ground.

She had a vague feeling she had been run over by horses. She found herself in a dark misty world where she was screaming against fate while trying to draw a protective circle around herself with her dagger. She had a vague notice of the smell of horse droppings and complete darkness overwhelmed her.

“It was a good run, it had to end sometime.” All faded away, her slurred words following her down into the darkness.

When The Witch came to, it was a slow process. She heard rough voices that somehow seemed melodic at the same time. She could feel herbs and potions beginning to work throughout her broken body and that held her attention for a time. Fascinated by a strange mix that had never occurred to her. As she rose closer to consciousness the pain, in so many parts of her body, made her wonder exactly what happened to her. She struggled harder to reach lucidity.

“What happened to me?” Her words sounded slurred to her own ears and her jaw was painful to move. Her right arm was painful to move as well so she gently moved her left up to her face. It ached badly but not the way her other did. She felt a poultice overall left side of her face and her eye was swollen shut.

“We were hoping you could tell us that little lady.” It was the rough melodic voice she remembered hearing and with her one good eye she could see the dim outline of the inside of a high tent. There was a shadowed figure next to where she lay.

“Light.” She said hoarsely. Her jaw still hurt but at least she could speak. The shutter on a lantern was opened and there was light, as well as a dwarf sitting next to her. Long black beard and hair, built stocky like all dwarves, wearing rough hunter’s clothes. She was a little wary. She had only met a few dwarves in her time and did not know much about them.

“Don’t you remember what happened?” She slowly shook her head.

“Someone was angry at me and I remember anger in return with a lot of pain. Maybe because of the pain. If you know anything I would be even more in your debt. It could help me remember.” She tried to keep the pleading tone from her voice.

“Very well, but if you are up to it I would like a few answers in return. By then some medicine will be ready. The healer was quite specific about that.” She was a little nervous about what questions he would ask. She did remember why she had been in the region and that she had enraged someone. That reason she would rather not speak of. Of course, the dwarf was going out of his way to help her so she knew she would answer his questions.

“Go ahead.” She told him.

“Okay,” He began after scratching his black beard, “As far as we can tell, you were, in this order, based on my healers description; stabbed, jaw broken, right forearm broken, and kicked repeatedly. At this point it looks like you were ran over by horses leaving you with a cracked skull, ribs, and broken ankle. The Healer is not sure what order the last part happened.” She groaned. It was coming back to her then. Trying to get her sword out, being stabbed, punched, yes it was coming back. Geron, she thought with rage, that was not a proportional response and I am going to get you for this. I am going to take the damn useless bottle!

“Thank you my good dwarf, that does clear things up. You and yours are being more than kind to me.” He shrugged and The Witch could not hold back a yawn, waving her hand in apology.

“That is alright,” He smiled. “I just have a few questions for now and then your medicine.”

“Questions, questions, nothing but questions,” She quoted from her childhood. “Go ahead before I fade out.”

“Firstly, it looks like those were soldiers you tangled with. Even a witch would think twice before going after that many soldiers.” She was stunned. How did he know she was a witch? Did everyone know?

“You managed to draw a protective circle around you, with horse shit.” He told her, reading her reaction. “And as dwarves your magic does not affect us, but we can tell when it is around.” She sighed.

“I thought I had dreamed the circle as I passed out. Horse shit huh? Damn I am good.” He chuckled at her remark.

“Why were you attacked like that? It is none of our business other than you are thirty-five miles from the city of Lamaxtar’s back gate and a war just started at our front gate.” Now she was stunned and cursed herself roundly. She had missed Geron being a wizard, and a war starting practically under her feet! Years of success had made her far too cocky, she realized, and she was now reaping the foul benefit of her ego.

“I came to these parts looking to acquire an antique. The man I was uh, persuading to give it to me took exception to my methods. I was too arrogant and cocky to do my homework so it turns out he was a wizard. When I went to pick up the article, I was met by soldiers instead.” Her voice lowered, “Geron told them to throw me to the wolves and then this happened to me.” The dwarf cursed.

“Geron you say.” He asked sharply. She nodded. “We were told that the army at our gates has a wizard. It is why me and mine are scouting on this side of the mountain. Lamaxar can take on anyone toe to toe, but a wizard can change things. At least we know he exists, now we just need to find out why he is back here when all the action is on the other side of the mountain.” A tea pot started whistling in the corner. He got up to check it.

“It is time for your medicine. Your information has been vital and I thank you. Here let me help you up to drink.” It was excruciating but he managed to get her head up.

“Tell your healer,” She whispered before sipping, “That his mixtures are both strange and wonderful. Thank him for me and let him know a touch of eagle talon powder and owl dung would go amazing with his medicine.” He hushed her, promised he would, and helped her choke down the vile stuff. By the time it was gone, so was she.

Her dreams were from her childhood. Walking in the streets with her foster mother at an early age, demanding that a man call her Caroline and get it right. It was her name after all. She had been laughed at and her mother had took her home. She dreamed of making her witch pouch with her foster mother, after the passing of her parents. Putting the stitches in oh so carefully, filling the pouch with the strength of love and protection for her craft. As she slowly came back awake she felt warm and loved.

She stretched and sighed feeling good and ready for the day. What! She thought as full awareness came back. She sat up realizing her intense pain had been replaced by gentle aches. She reached down to her ankle and rotated it with only a throbbing to tell her it had been broken. The same with her ribs and arm. She touched her face and felt a small bandage and no swelling. The knife wound still hurt but it was negligible.

“How in the…”

“You should be feeling much better Caroline.” She turned her head quickly, looking at the dwarf. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and he held up his hand.

“You spoke quite forcibly about calling you Caroline. My pardon.” The Witch calmed down from the shock of hearing her name on another person’s lips. It had been a long time.

“That is ok, I do not use it anymore. You were hearing a dream, these day’s Witch works. The name I was using recently was a lie and I do not wish to lie to you.” He smiled.

“Fair enough Witch, my name is Captain Manurin. Healer Noran was impressed with your ideas for his medicine. You are proof that it worked. I think he would love to discuss methods with you, however right now we are in a hurry. We have obtained some of your things I believe.” He reached around behind him and brought out a sword, broke in half, holding it up shaking his head.

“Poorly made. No well made blade can be broken like this.” He tossed it aside and she was not surprised. She had picked it up cheap at the last minute. Then the Dwarf hesitated and sighed.

“I had hoped to not be the one to show you this.” He held out her pouch. Ripped completely open and empty. She could see it was inert, dead. No longer the thing of beauty and love it had been. She felt her eyes fill and her lip begin to tremble as he gently put it in her hand and she held back sobs closing her hand around it, shaking her head.

“I am sorry, I am be..being silly. It was just..a…a” She lowered her head and felt a firm finger on her chin raising her face to his eyes. She could see his compassion.

“It is no sillier than a Dwarf raging at his beard being cut, or a chip in his favorite blade.” His voice was gentle but firm. “Despite how far your healing has come you had a severe shock and this appears to be an even bigger one. We all need to grieve Caroline, allow yourself the privilege.” She lowered her face as he let go and the sobs came. Memories of her childhood followed and her shoulders shook as grief racked her body and soul. She did not hear him set water at her side and leave her to her sorrow.

She was amazed that she felt a little better after her outpouring of memories and grief. She sniffled and wiped her eyes realizing the blanket had fallen aside leaving her naked. She set the remains of her pouch on the sleeping mat with a solemn promise to bring down vengeance on Geron the Wizard for this. She shook out her hair and drank the water provided, wiping her face with a clean rag she found and got dressed. Her cloths, like herself, were clean. She was determined not to think about her grief and focus on the moment, and revenge. When she felt ready, she tucked her pouch remains behind her belt, walking out of the tent, head held high.

***

She did not recognize her surroundings. The tent took up the whole of a small clearing with branches from surrounding trees over her head. A little trail ran through some laurel straight from the entrance, so she followed that until it opened into a wider clearing with a spectacular view of the valley tree tops and sky. There were three dwarves she did not recognize; two were going through equipment on the other side to the left, and the third was at a long table to the right. He had flaming red hair and beard with a cheerful look on his face, he saw her and came over quickly with an easy smile.

“Welcome Witch. It is good to see you up and around. If you are comfortable with it, I would like to pick your brain about healing remedies.” She could not help but smile.

“You must be Healer Noran, it is indeed a pleasure and when times are easier I would enjoy nothing more.” She shook his hand thanking him. From the way he had called her Witch with a capital pronunciation she knew Manurin had spread the word.

“I am glad to help,” He said seriously. “Healing is what I do and to be able to help you was indeed a pleasure. You were a tough case.” His kindness put her more at ease.

“I always am, ask anyone.” She looked around the clearing, noticing other little paths leading out, she suspected, to other tents. She could also feel the determination from the dwarves and something more, something not good beyond the obvious war. The other two dwarves finished their tasks and came over to her and Noran. They had brown beard and hair with harder, grimmer faces than either Manurin or Noran. These two spent plenty of time in the bush for sure.

“This is hunter Vornan and hunter Mili,” Noran introduced them. “This is The Witch.”

“Pleasure m’lady. I am sorry we cannot give you a fairer greeting but the times are not the best now.”

She nodded understanding as there was a commotion on the side of the clearing that showed the expansive view of sky and distant forest. Another hunter shouted something in a different language, Dwarven she presumed, and all the dwarves froze. Then Noran sprinted to the table scooped up a pack and an ax, then followed the hunter down the trail without a sound. She followed Vornan and Mili to the trail head there. Looking down she was surprised.

The trail dropped at a fairly steep slope, winding down and around to the valley and she could just make out the clearing where she had her incident. She thought, damn, they had hauled her all the way up here! Vornan hissed a warning and without being told she crouched as they did. He gestured off to the side and she could see a road with tiny troops moving on it toward the mountain. She knew who that was.

“They cannot see us from this distance.” Mili ventured. Vornan snorted.

“They saw the others, we take no chances.” The Witch realized what was said and coupling that with the bad feelings she was picking up, had a bad feeling of her own. She glanced toward the downward trail.

“You lost some comrades?” There was assent from both hunters.

“Yes,” said Mili. “Ambushed and shot by arrows, two out of the three were slain. Please stay down, we are all my people have on this side of the mountain right now.” An idea occurred to her and she tried to push it aside but it would not go, so she shuffled sideways along the edge. She looked through the bushes until she found what might work. Just because she did not have her pouch did not mean she was useless, she vowed to herself. She found a five foot stick that seemed functional. She then studied the clearing noticing a side path, faint, almost unnoticeable. She glanced back at the Hunters.

“Is that the perimeter?” She pointed to the faint trail. They both nodded mutely.

“Thanks, be right back.” She told them keeping low, and with a deep breath, summoned her magic.

She could feel it respond to her desires and she held one end of the stick dug into the ground, forming her thoughts and spell. The Witch shuffled sideways, staying low and directing the magic into the line she was drawing. She could feel the loss of her pouch, there was a hole in the flow of her magic, but was encouraged by her success so far, so she kept going. Following the perimeter in a crouch as her magic flowed from her into the circle she was drawing and back into her. She heard a distant rumbling, but ignored it. She lost track of time and was surprised when she met up with where she had started and felt the circle complete. She could tell it was strong and one of her better works. She sighed and turned to see the Captain was back with two other dwarves. These were two red heads, not as dark as Noran’s. The Captain and Mili came over to her, looking tense.

“What were you doing?” She was startled, until she realized she had not told anyone.

“I made a specific type of protective circle. This clearing cannot be seen by anyone, even if they are standing right outside of it. Except your team and myself of course. Mili and Vornan were concerned about being observed.” Manurin was surprised, but nodded thanks.

“We need to speak.” He told her gruffly and she followed them over to the table. As soon as she got near she saw food there now, causing her stomach to rumble. Manurin gestured to the bread and meat and she reached for it while giving him her full attention.

“We will be leaving to find a way to stop them from reaching further up the mountain. I managed to start a small avalanche that will hold them back for now.” That explained the rumbling, she thought.

“But we need to get to the top first. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish, just promise you will tell no one about this place.” The Witch badly wanted to join them, but before pleading her case she had to be fair, not her usual method.

“If you think I would be in the way, certainly I will stay here or leave entirely. If you think I can be of help, I would gladly go with you.” The Captain studied her a moment.

“How do you think you can help?” He asked. She thought a moment.

“Well, apparently my magic still works. That protection spell will keep this place hidden for a very long time. I surprised myself by how strong it ended up. I am sure I can do other magic’s for you or back up your Healer.” Noran shook his head.

“I am a healer. It is the only outward magic dwarves can have and we healers are few. I have no damaging abilities beyond this.” He held up his ax.

“You undoubtedly want a little revenge eh?” Manurin asked pointedly.

“Of course, but not at your expense. Normally it would not matter to me, but I find I like you all and would not have harm come to your people because of me.” She munched on some meat and bread drinking a flask of ale. It tasted wonderful and he gave her a moment to get a few bites down. The two hunters she did not know were eating as well.

“So what more can you tell us about him?” Manurin asked. The Witch nodded and thought. Staring at the table as she ate. She remembered meeting him and recognizing incredible arrogance and overconfidence. Like herself, she thought sourly. As she reviewed what he said through her mind in the filter of what she now knew, a few things stood out to her. She looked up and saw she had finished the food in front of her without noticing. She had phased out in thought, she did that from time to time. The Witch was glad the dwarves were patient.

“He wants something from Lamaxtar. I have no idea what, but it is big because if he sent an army after you, it has to be big.”

“He sent the army?” She nodded.

“I am positive. He is both arrogant and over confident, kind of like me. I think I can guarantee he does not work for any man. He is in control or nothing. That being the case…”

“Why is he here in the back of the mountain and not with the army. The army is a distraction, a sizable distraction. Hmmm, anything else Witch?” She noticed the Captain had calmed down some and was pondering, correctly she believed, her thoughts.

“When I was trying to explain to him that I really just wanted that old bottle out of curiosity, I told him I never knew what my next fascination would be. Well, just before he ordered me left for the wolves, he said he did not have time to deal with me because he had his own fascination to go after. I think he was deliberately taunting me. I used the word fascination to describe something I want. I think he did too.”

“So he wants something?” Mili asked, “but what?” She shook her head.

“I do not know yet. But I will tell you this. He was honestly puzzled that I was after something that had no power, it made no sense to him. To me that means whatever he is after is powerful. One more thing. As over confident as I was, I should have noticed a wizard. Only the very powerful can mask it that well.” There was some grumbling from everyone but the Captain. She felt obliged to continue.

“I have to add, if you do decide to let me help, I will need to know what he is after. I do not know what is in that mountain, but if it is a family secret or something…” They got her point. After another moment the Captain nodded, deciding something.

“Gareth, Nareth, meet The Witch.” She smiled and shook their hands briefly. “Set the climbing gear and start up. We will follow, have a harness for her,” he paused looking at her.

“Have you climbed before?” She shook her head no.

“Then definitely hook up the harness.” They took off for their gear. The Witch kept eating and sipping her ale.

“I am not sure what he could be after.” Noran joined in. ” Are we sure about that? It is not that I distrust you Witch, but I am at a loss to see what it could be.” She shrugged swallowing.

“Well, I could be wrong, but it just feels right and I usually trust my instincts. When I started my run at him I was too confident and wasn’t paying attention. I assure you all that I may make mistakes, but never twice. It is a rule I have.” They all thought that was a good rule.

Goods were gathered, everything they would need. The Witch was taking her staff. She found it had changed after the use she put to it and it was warm to the touch. She could feel it would be some support if, or when she ran into Geron again. She went with Mili to keep watch as the Captain, Vornan and Healer Noran closed the camp. Except for the wounded dwarf. He was well enough to stay behind and look over the bodies of the two that had been slain. The Witch did not bring up the fallen beyond presenting her regrets. She somehow felt responsible all though it seemed obvious that Geron would be doing this whether she had shown up or not.

They saw no movement at first and then far off, Mili pointed out what looked like moving figures up the road. The road itself wound up and around with many miles and switchbacks. They would not make it to the upper road until later the next day. The Witch and her companions would be up before nightfall. Noran consulted her briefly on treatment for the injured dwarf and they were off.

She followed on a trail she had not noticed and went back and up to the cliff that started as a steep hill but soon ended at a shear face. Ropes disappeared up an overhang and she couldn’t see where Gareth and Nareth had gone. She was strapped into harness and before she knew it she was going up.

“Do not try and help.” The Captain called up to her. “Let them haul you up.” She did as ordered and it was exhilarating. At one point, she was hanging away from the wall and swinging in the rising breeze. It was like flying her broom, without any control and she loved it. When she finally made it to the top and they hauled her up, it was obvious she was excited.

“Not many people like that Witch.” Gareth told her. She laughed and giggled.

“Not many ride brooms either.” He laughed and sent a signal to those below it was their turn to climb.

“Speaking of brooms, if you have one, where is it.” Nareth questioned outright. She sighed, a little embarrassed.

“It was supposed to be a quick trip, so I didn’t bring it with me. It is in a safe place several days distant. Not close enough to do us any good.” She was a little surprised she had switched to “us” instead of “me.” Being part of a group was an unique experience for her, she could not decide if she liked it or not. Nareth nodded in sympathy.

“I left some equipment behind once for the same reason. Of course it was the first time I ever needed it.” She joined him in laughter. For such stern looking dwarves they were remarkable cheerful, all things considered.

“Why does it always seem to work that way?” She questioned humorously. They continued to chat companionably until everyone was up and they were on the move. Her wounds were beginning to get sore and ache from all the activity but she pushed herself to keep up. She refused to be a hindrance. They finally made it to the road Geron and his troops were on shortly after dark. They set up camp and Vornan and Mili left for a patrol.

The Dwarves were surprised when she volunteered to cook. She had to explain that all witches should know how to cook considering their work with potions. The healer had not looked at it that way, and ended up helping her. The Captain had left with Gareth and was not back until the food was done, good timing she thought. They ate the stew she had prepared and the Captain was wrestling with something while they ate. Noran and Gareth seemed to watch him carefully and Gareth looked nervous.

When they were finished Captain Manurin got out a wrapped handkerchief full of tobacco and they loaded their pipes. Fortunately for The Witch they also had the thin leaves used to roll, so she smoked as well. It had been a long time and it tasted good. As she puffed she stared at Manurin through the smoke, hoping it would get him to talk. It seemed to creep him out enough to get his attention.

“Ok, I think we know what Geron is after. I received a message from the King. They believe they know what the goal is. Unfortunately, the enemy has been joined by an army of goblins led by trolls and ogres. They are hard pressed and he has ordered an evacuation to be safe.” The Witch was shocked and said so.

“Has this ever been done before, it sounds incredible.” Everyone looked grim and the Captain sighed.

“Only once in the long history of the city. It sounds like it is for the same reason as before.” Manurin knelt near The Witch and used a stick to draw a map. He made a circle and began marking points around it. “This is the city, here is the main gate and this is the Royal road and here is the Merchant center.” He drew the road and a small circle for the merchant center. Then he marked the opposite side of the big circle.

“This is the back gate, we are here, and here,” He marked two places on the far side of the city. “is located the two side entrances the people who cannot fight are being evacuated out of.” She studied it carefully and frowned.

“So the back gate is still a ways away. Pardon me for asking but, how can he possibly get through the gates. Both back here, or in the front? What has he shown so far?”

“He has some explosive agent. The Merchant building has already been destroyed. The army is halfway down the Royal road. We have them held there.” He pointed to a place on the map. “The explosions were of a magical nature, that building should not have gone down!” She thought a bit longer and Noran cleared his throat.

“Is it certain those that cannot fight will get out?” His voice was rough and The Witch tried to ignore the pain in it. She was not successful.

“Yes, the way is clear. Since we cannot fight this on two fronts, the Wonder Hall has been collapsed.” There were gasps and groans from all the dwarves except Manurin and it seemed to come together for The Witch. He looked at her.

“The Wonder Hall is the giant hall to the back gate. He cannot get in there.” He explained. She nodded understanding.

“Ok look, this whole thing is a giant distraction. As you said Manurin, it has to be.” She began ticking off on her fingers. “One, people may attack the Dwarves but the dwarven city? Like you said, it has only happened once and as wild as I can be, I would not attempt it. It is a really stupid idea on the surface.”

“Why,” Gareth asked, “I agree, but why do you think so?” She smiled

“Because the little bit I have heard of your people tells me that if only half of it is true, it is suicide. Number two, he must know this if I do. Three, everything is concentrated at the front gate. Not on this side of the mountain. Or the evacuation route. Is that the logical place to evacuate? If someone was familiar with the area would they guess that is where one would happen?” Both Nareth and Manurin nodded.

“So, he does not want any troops on this side of the mountain, he only has a small amount with him now as a precaution. It certainly would not hold up against an equal number of dwarves.” All of them snorted at the very thought.

“So where are the exits on this side of the mountain?” They all stared blankly at her and The Witch giggled softly.

“I am sorry, but you are an obviously organized people. If you have exits on three sides of your mountain, you have tone on the fourth. Oh, and how close is this thing he is after?”

With reluctance Captain Manurin marked two exits opposite the ones the evacuation was taking place at. Then he marked a spot that did not look that far from one of the two exits. In fact, it was the one closest to where they were. She decided staring worked before, she would try it again. The silence lengthened and he returned her look, but soon he gave in.

“There is a place in Lamaxtar that is believed to be, essentially, the birthplace of the Dwarven race. We believe it is where the first Dwarf awoke to walk the world.” There was silence and it took some time for her to digest this.

“It is also near where our people are laid after their death for the journey to the Halls of our Fathers.” Nareth added. She had been drinking water but reached over and picked up Nareth’s Ale and took a healthy swig.

“Could I have a smoke please. I am guessing, having either place disturbed, could be disastrous?” The answer was an affirmative. Her mind did not want to contemplate what was truly at stake. The assault on her and the destruction of her pouch was as nothing in comparison. She rolled it and lit it with a branch from the fire. Something about the dwarves had got her to care about them and it was annoying. She had not bothered caring about anyone or anything for some time, not since… Nareth handed her his ale and she silently thanked him taking another gulp.

“The last time this happened was over eight thousand years ago. The ancient Wizard Black was searching for more power. It simply did not occur to us that it would ever be tried again.” Manurin explained. “The elves helped us the last time and are on their way now. Even then, when the battle was over, no one outside Lamaxtar knew what the actual goal of the assault was. We did not tell them.” The Witch nodded. That made sense to her.

“Okay, that is power enough for a Wizard to crave.” She said. “Not to mention if he succeeds your whole race will take a hit.” There were nods all around.

“The other dwarf cities are on their way, along with the elves, but the distance is greater for our people.” Manurin finished. The Witch continued thinking and then sighed. Finishing her smoke having made a decision.

“Even as the Witch of the Well, or the Witch of the Shimmering Falls, this is far beyond my awareness. What do you have planned?” There was a hiss of breath from Noran and Gareth gave a startled gasp.

“Do you mean you knew them?” She shook her head.

“I mean I am them.” There was some muttering amongst the Dwarves that she ignored. “I will do all I can and you have my word, that I have never broken, that none of this adventure will ever leave my lips. But I honestly am not sure where to go with this.”

“We can slow them with traps and slides onto the road.” Manurin explained, “Vornan and Mili are doing that now. They have orders to not get too close. This Wizard somehow knew my other hunters were out there and could set a trap. He should not have known! It is my guess now he has an idea, if not factual information, where these entrances are. These are not set up to be collapsed. If we did, then many levels would come down and possibly start a chain reaction. That part of the city was not built for it, so it is up to us.” There was silence again as they thought about it. It was Noran who started the ball rolling.

“So, how do we separate him from his support?” They all looked at him and he continued.

“Well, really, on his own how well is he going to handle six angry dwarves and the Furious Witch of the Well coming at him.” That started them thinking along another track and it was Captain Manurin who had an idea. He explained it and The Witch felt the comfort of knowing the other dwarves were as shocked at the idea as she was. This Dwarf is crazy, she thought. Adding to herself, it is always good to be in like company.

***

The Witch sat with Captain Manurin, down the hall from the Chamber of Awakening. She was still having a tough time comprehending the beauty of the Chamber. She felt like just seeing it was a gift she may never be able to repay. The Captain held up his knotted handkerchief of tobacco, she shook her head and he shrugged loading his pipe.

“So, tell me, is it true that the Witch of the Well poisoned, bribed and killed three soldiers to get into the vaults of the Buttress for a lamp?” She smiled remembering. There was much more to that story but, she did not feel like sharing it right then.

“Yes, the lamp was mine and I wanted it back. You are telling the nice version of the story though.” He nodded and puffed on his pipe.

“What do you want now?” He asked pointedly. She did not have to think hard.

“Right now, more even than that glass bottle, is to be worthy of the gift you have given me; my life and a look at the Chamber of Awakening. Anything else would be like a good wine with fish. Extra.” He nodded.

“So,” She questioned, “are you finally going to tell me what is going on? There is not going to be six angry dwarves and a Witch against Geron. Not to mention there is no power in the room beyond the obvious beauty. Geron will see that.” He smiled.

“Yes, but the whole plan is based on his arrogance and belief that he is always right. I agree that all powerful Wizards believe in their own righteousness. He will try and tear the place apart to find the power that is not there. I want you to stop him. As much as possible.” The Witch was non-plussed.

“Okay.”

“When Noran comes back, he and I will be going through that door.” He pointed to the wall where there was no door, just stacked shields. “It goes to the Chamber, but it takes a longer route. Geron will be on his way, and when he enters the Chamber he will find you.”
“The woman he thought he had killed. Hmm.”

“Yes, I just need you to distract him. How long can you hold him?” The Witch thought about that. She was feeling much stronger with her magic than she had in a long time. Despite, and perhaps because, of the loss of her pouch. Her stick would serve for a while, but as a witch she did not have as many disposable spells as a wizard. She would have to be wily. Or annoying enough to wear him down. Either would work, she decided.

“I can hold him for a while, now that I know what he is. Before was a, well…”

“Mistake. Yes, but we are not making any today. The others have been distracted, killed or led on a wild chase, all his soldiers. He will be alone when he gets here. Keep him distracted until Noran and I get to the Chamber, and you will see that you should believe all that you have heard of dwarves, not just half.” He grinned fiercely and she joined him.

“You have a deal. And by the way, anything you have heard about my other names, it isn’t even half of it and believe it all. It is safer.” He laughed softly and they gripped forearms in a promise to each other. Seconds later, Noran hustled back in. He nodded to Manurin and came up to The Witch. He took her hand.

“Stay alive girl. I still have some herb questions.” She returned his grip and agreed. She watched them go to the wall, select a shield each and with a touch on a star burst pattern in the wall carvings, a door slid aside and they went in. The door slid shut and she was on her own. Just how she worked best. She saw Manurin had left his tobacco pouch on the little table. She picked it up and went to the Chamber.

The Witch entered the Chamber of Awakening and walked around it slowly. There was an amazing peace in the place. The walls were smooth as glass, yet stone, with graceful etchings spotted about with a gray, almost silvery sheen to them. The pillars were the same. The room was lit with hollow crystal globes filled with light set about six feet off the ground, attached to the side of the pillars. Four for each pillar so the room was well lit with six pillars. Then in the center were nine stone tables. Beds actually, where presumably the first dwarves had awoke. Then there was a pedestal facing where the beds were laid out with a book on it. Above that was a huge decorative crystal globe twinkling prettily. She looked at the book, the writing on the front was in the blockish letters of the Dwarves. She tried to think where she wished to make her stand, turning in a circle. She noticed a star burst pattern to the left of the pedestal along the far wall and smiled to herself.

The Witch then turned around and walked over to the beds facing the pedestal. She concentrated and sank within herself building her power. She had not done anything like this in a long time and wanted to be as prepared as possible. Her staff grew warm and she filled it with the strength of the Teaerth Witches. Glad she could still call on it without her pouch, she seemed to feel the spirit of her foster mother and was pleased. Then she heard a voice from the room she had left. It was familiar.

“No one goes past this point! I don’t care what happened to the others, our goal is almost complete and then, no one can touch us. Leave this to me!” She recognized the voice and stepped over behind the pillar next to the beds. She liked being a surprise.

She heard him enter the room and could tell from his steps he was moving to the pedestal. She pulled out the tobacco pouch and saw there were several made already. She lit one with a flick of magic and step around the pillar. Appearance was everything and Geron was surprised.

“Impossible, you must be dead.” He looked around the room as if trying to find someone else.

“Hello, I missed you too.” She told him cheerfully. “I find it funny that you called me an idiot and yet you are on the ultimate idiots journey.” She moved to her left a little and he moved to the right eyes narrowing. When the time came, she needed him right there.

“I am about to become the most powerful Wizard Teaerth has ever known.” He declared. “You on the other hand are a useless individual who is lucky to be alive. My men told me they had defeated you and left you for dead. I will have to punish them.” She laughed at him.

“Don’t worry about that, they are dead by now. It is just you and me Geron. I still cannot believe you are such an idiot. Look around, other than a revered, hallowed room, there is no power here. Certainly, nothing you could steal. Yet here you are, trying.” She whipped her staff around and blast of energy shot across the room. He barely got his wand out and up to block it and he still staggered back. His return shot was faster than she thought possible and she barely got her staff up in time. It was slammed back into her chest. She felt herself lifted off the ground and thrown against one of the crystal lamps, shattering it. Small shards of the crystal stuck in her cloths and back as she fell to the ground. Fortunately, she landed and rolled to her feet panting, but in relatively undamaged shape still. Her magic was shielding and strengthening her. She walked forward slowly, regaining her ground.

“What was it Geron, an eight thousand year old scroll written by the Wizard Black. The inference is obvious as to what happened to him. Yet here you are.” He growled and threw another blast at her and she was ready with a return blast as she dove over a bed. His blast hit her legs and that spun her on top of the stone, over the side and into another bed. She heard and felt a rib pop as she hit it. Gasping she got gamely to her feet again. Her legs were trembling as she walked this time. He was eying her with amazement and a scorch mark on his shirt.

“Ironic when you consider you used similar information for that trinket of mine.” He said. “What I found however was the diary of the Wizard Black’s aid, who escaped the destruction of that attempt. It is you, on a fool’s errand, and it will be worse for you.” The Witch laughed and moved past the beds and to the left. Just a bit, she had noticed a crack in the wall by the sunburst etching. She wanted him positioned just right.

“Do you even know what ironic means? No? That’s okay, it does not really matter.” The Witch laughed at him again. Geron was beginning to get nervous. She was an enigma to him and she decided to clear some things up. She called on her power to fill her and strengthen her more than she usually considered safe, she could feel her staff vibrate and there was a crack in it from the battle so far. The crack gave her another idea.

“I did not get my information about that bottle from any scroll, I received it from a Dragon. The Silver Dragon of the Shimmering Falls!” They faced each other fully and she held her staff in both hands across her waist. Organizing her power and intentions. Geron’s eyes narrowed.

“You lie!” He said viciously. She laughed again.

“No, you know who I am now. I am the Witch of the Falls, oh and before that, the Witch of the Well. Do you understand yet idiot. I will see you destroyed!” Her staff snapped and she spread her arms shielding herself with power, screaming in rage as she raised what was now two wands.

“I will see you destroyed!” She screamed again as he swung his wand and the door behind him sprang open. She had intentionally left herself looking vulnerable as a distraction and his blast took her full in the chest. She flew back hitting the wall and then falling to the floor. The Witch sprang up, shaking even more but forcing her muscles to work. Geron was now battling two angry dwarves and a furious witch.

She threw two blasts, one from each staff section as Manurin and Noran were hiding behind their shields from his power. As soon he turned to her they came at him again. She managed to side step his magic, he then had to defend against the dwarves. They fell into a rhythm, the three of them. Each attacking and retreating, circling and Geron looked bad. He had a serious cut on his left shoulder bleeding freely making that arm useless, from an ax strike. She was worried as she dodged again, barely escaping another hit. She was running out of strength. The Witch was not meant for a prolonged battle of this sort and the Dwarves were taking hit after hit and still coming. They did not look like they could last much more either. She saw through the smoke and glaring lights that Manurin went down and she screamed to get Geron’s attention, panicking for her new friend.

“Nooo! Geron!” He spun as she swung another energy spell at him and he attacked simultaneously. His spell blew right through hers and she felt herself lift off the ground. She came back down flat on a stone bed of one of the first dwarves. Her whole body shook and she heard Geron’s laughter. He was sounding maniacal and out of control now. She pushed herself up on one arm and barely had the strength. Manurin was trying to get to his feet, blood was streaming down his face into his beard and one eyes was swollen shut. Noran was bravely dodging behind pillars and his shield to keep Geron occupied.

The Witch cast her gaze around to find anything to help and then looked up, above Geron’s fighting position. Yes, she thought, that would do. Geron was right where he needed to be. She looked over at Manurin who had managed to get to one knee and he saw her. She looked up at her target and so did he. He nodded at her and she heard both Noran and Geron raging at each other. Manurin somehow found energy to surge up and began running, getting Geron’s attention. She summoned every ounce of power she had left and threw both of her wands at the chain holding the giant crystal globe affixed to the ceiling.

Geron saw Manurin coming but Manurin swerved, dodging a blast, and tackled Noran, getting him out of the way. When the ceiling exploded, she threw herself back on the table curling up and shielding her face and eyes. The second explosion of the giant crystal hitting the floor was deafening and she felt pain in several parts of her body. Within moments there was silence other than the gasping for breath of the three remaining creatures in the Chamber. It turned out Geron was not one of them.

***

The Witch finished the last stitch on the pouch and carefully set it down without examining it. She rolled up the silver thread and set it aside to return to Noran with the tools he had loaned her. Then she went to the sideboard and poured a glass of hot tea and ale mixture of the dwarves. Looking around she was struck again by how luxurious this room was. Gareth kept saying it was simply a healers recovery room, but she was not buying that. Rugs, wall hangings and plush furniture. Her eyes were drawn back to her pouch and with a sigh she went over to it. She was unable to distract herself from it, and picked it up. Sipping her tea while she did so. Closing her eyes and reaching into it told her what she had already guessed. The pouch was still inert. Just a regular pouch.

She had felt she needed to attempt a repair though and was glad she did. Now she knew and would be able to make another with a clear conscious. It had been violated, and made powerless by the destruction wrought on it. That was okay though, because it had taught her a valuable lesson. She remembered the final blow she had taken from Geron that had landed her on an awakening bed of a dwarf, the first dwarf it turned out. If it had not been for her foster mothers love and strength she would not have survived. It had bolstered her throughout the battle and for that she was thankful. Never again to forget that her past stayed with her. The door swung open without a knock or call.

“So, Witch are you going to stay hid away in here forever or…” Manurin stopped when he saw the pouch in her hand. His eyes met hers and she shook her head. He sighed.

“I am truly sorry. No way to repair it then?”

“No, but it is time for a new one, times have changed and so have I. I will survive.” She told him honestly and a sudden thought occurred to her so she threw it to him. He caught it reflexively with a surprised grunt.

“Keep it Dwarf. I will soon have a new one and I know you could use it.” She loved the shocked look on his face, it made her day.

“Caroline, but this is, I mean…” She waved him silent.

“It has no power and cannot hold any. Consider it a remembrance or token of our, um, friendship.” She was embarrassed by her spontaneous show of feelings and could not help adding. “Use it for your tobacco. Keeping tobacco in a knotted handkerchief lacks class.” At that precise moment, someone else entered the room behind him.

“I agree completely. It will not do to be using a handkerchief for tobacco in your new rank.” The Dwarf speaking was the King. The Witch had never met him but it could be no one else. It was not his rich clothes because all dwarves she had met in the city, who were not working, dressed richly. No, it was his bearing, brown beard and hair braided richly with silver ties. Dark eyes and posture of one who is used to a position of power and authority. She instantly felt like she was a child reciting her first lessons all over again. She set down her tea and stood straighter.

“My apologies Witch for not coming to thank you sooner. We still have a city full of elves and many dwarves from our brother and sister cities. This is a celebration that is going to last some time. The battle topside decimated the numbers of all evil creatures for many miles around.” She nodded.

“It is not necessary to apologize, but I thank you King Altac. You honor me. It sounds like you do indeed have a reason to celebrate, and I always encourage a good celebration.” She grinned as she finished. Hoping she was not to forward. He grinned back.

“Our reasons are for more than is generally known, and I am given to understand we agree that it should stay that way.” The Witch nodded complete agreement.

“Yes, your highness. It is not my way to let my presence be known after my activities. I am glad to hear you agree.” He was satisfied and finished with a surprise for her. Several.

“I can see why Manurin and his men speak so highly of you. Many would like to trumpet their power and abilities. That, to me, always comes off lacking class, like Manurin’s tobacco. Let me say that you are invited to join me for dinner when the fuss dies down. I would like to honor you in the halls of celebration. Just Lamaxtar and you, if you are willing.” The Witch would like to turn it down but had a feeling that was not politic.

“Of course, your majesty, I would be honored.” He looked pleased.

“As am I. Now then, I have had a lunch sent down from the celebration that I am assured will be to your liking.” He turned before she could respond and left the room leaving her slightly breathless.

“He is always like that.” Manurin commented. She glanced over and he was gazing at her pouch in his hand. He looked up and briefly held it to his heart before tucking inside his velvet red tunic. Then Noran came in with Gareth, Nareth, Vornan and Mili. They were bringing in plates of covered food and a bag with wine bottles in them.

“It is lunch my friends. Compliments of the King!” The table was quickly set and with a flourish Noran pulled off the cover over the biggest plate and she thought it was the most succulent smelling fish she had ever had a chance to sniff. Then Noran set a bottle next to her seat and she glanced down and froze. It was her bottle. Light green liquid with a faint sparkle in the center. She looked up and had to restrain tears. Thankfully Manurin saved her.

“I guess you do get some wine with your fish.”

The End