Markus Heitz - The Revenge of the Dwarves

Rodario slapped his thigh with delight; this was a fine joke. “I’ll have to write a play about this.” He turned to Nolik. “I’m surprised at you. You know the townsfolk give you a bad reputation? Yet your deeds speak for you.”

The young man grimaced. “No, it’s true: I am a bad person, Rodario. The black eye I gave Tassia is genuine-I have a very quick temper. It’s better if Tassia goes than if she were to stay.” He strode out into the rain without looking round again.

She called out after him, “Good luck.” Nolik lifted his hand in acknowledgment as he made his way back to Storm Valley.

“So, Tassia,” said Rodario. He looked at her. “Welcome to the Curiosum company. You always wanted to be an actress. How did that come about?” He patted the bed and she sat down next to him.

“I don’t really know. It’s just an urge I have.” She looked him straight in the eyes, raised her right hand and stroked his cheek. As she made the movement her shawl slipped from her shoulders, revealing bare skin. “Like the urge I have for you,” she whispered. “I saw you at the fountain, with all that spurting water and the big black cloud behind you, and I was lost. You looked like a god in those robes and your jokes were like holy words.” Her pretty face drew closer. “You are the wittiest, best-looking and most desirable man I have ever met, Rodario.” She bent her head forward and parted her lips.

Rodario swallowed hard, regarded her immaculate tanned skin and wanted to kiss her. And wanted to do other things with her as well-things he excelled at. His desires were to be satisfied this very night. How most agreeable.

Then she pulled back her head and asked, “How was I?”

“What do you mean? We haven’t done anything yet,” he said in surprise, slipping nearer to her once more.

“I mean my improvised seduction scene, Master Rodario.” She edged away, laughing as innocently as a child that has stuffed its pockets with stolen sweets and is blaming another for the theft. “You were certainly taken in, I know. It was fairly obvious.”

Rodario felt Tassia had made a fool of him and it was a blow to his pride. He covered up his disappointment and transformed his surprise to laughter. “My compliments, dear Tassia!” He made her a bow and planted a soft kiss on the back of her hand. “You have mastered all the arts of declamation. It seems I should take lessons from you myself. It was magnificent how you pretended to bestow your favor on me.” He stood up and took her hand. “Come, let me show you where you can sleep tonight. There’s a bed free in Gesa’s wagon. She is an enchanting matron who looks after our horses. We’ll settle things about your wages and so on in the morning.”

“Thank you.” As she passed she caught sight of the picture of Furgas. “Who is that?” she wanted to know.

“He’s a good friend. I miss him. He used to belong to my troupe and he is an expert in his field,” said Rodario, standing as close to her as he could. She had certainly achieved one thing with her performance that evening. He had lost his heart a little bit more. “Have you ever seen him?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure,” she said, shaking her head. Her answer took him by surprise.

Rodario took the picture and handed it to her. “Have a good look.” He felt excitement and the first stirrings of joy.

Tassia took up a quill, opened the inkpot and altered the likeness slightly, giving the face longer hair and a short beard to go with the moustache. “He was thinner than on this picture,” she said. “That’s him all right. He was up by the quarry at the river where I do the washing. He wanted to know exactly where he was. So I told him.”

Rodario grabbed her by the shoulders. “When was that? What else did he say?” He gave silent thanks to Palandiell for the inspired coincidence that had brought Tassia’s path to cross his own. “It is really important. Where was he trying to get to?”

“He didn’t say much. But I could see from his eyes that he was very sad.” She tried to conjure up again the details of their meeting. “It must have been four cycles ago. I felt sorry for him. I’d never seen so much distress in a man. Sorrow had made deep lines on his face. That’s why I remember him.” She looked at Rodario. “He was driving a big cart with a tarpaulin over it. There was a lot of rattling coming from underneath the cover. I took him for a tinker.” Tassia gave a start when a bolt of lightning struck the ground close to where they were standing. There was a terrifying crash and she clung to Rodario in fear. He put his arms round her. Unfortunately she did not remain like that for long and quickly moved away. “Forgive me. The thunderstorm…” she said quietly.

“Of course,” he said, regretting that he could not hold her longer. “You were saying…?”

“Your friend was watering his horses. I told him where he was and he looked a bit happier then. I asked him if he had pans for sale, but he laughed and said he couldn’t help me. He needed his things in Weyurn, in…” She thought hard. “I think he called it… Mafidina?”

“Mifurdania,” Rodario corrected her. “We used to have a theater there.” At last he had got a hint, a clue, as to the whereabouts of his missing friend; the next stage of the Curiosum tour was now determined. He had a further question: “Did he say at all what he was going to be doing?”

“Trading,” she answered. “Then to travel on.” She suppressed a yawn but Rodario noticed. “Why did you split up if you were such friends?”

“Oh, sleep has you in its arms now, Tassia. I’ll explain it all to you soon enough.” He took her bag. “Here, I’ll carry that.”

A sudden gust of wind made the caravan shake. Rain rattled down. They would both of them be soaked through as soon as they put a foot outside.

Rodario looked at Tassia. “Right, you can sleep here. Let us share a broken bed,” he offered and she smiled in acceptance. They both slipped under the sheets and listened in the dark to the sounds of nature. After a while Rodario felt a hand on his chest.

“When I called you witty, good-looking and desirable before, only one of those was a lie,” she whispered and he heard her take off her dress.

“Be careful what you say next.” He gave a quiet laugh. So his charm still worked. Even in the dark and without the use of words. She kissed his cheek. He got the feeling that Tassia was not entirely inexperienced.

“You are not the best-looking man I’ve ever seen,” she said, snuggling close; he felt her warm skin and smelled the fragrance of her hair. “But the other two things are true.”

“Then you could add the one with the greatest stamina,” he laughed, kissing her on the mouth. Yet again a woman had chosen him to provide happiness. He was glad to be of service.

Girdlegard,

Kingdom of Tabain,

Two Miles South of the Capital Goldensheaf,

Spring, 6241st Solar Cycle

I f the kingdom of Tabain had two defining features they were the almost infinite stretch of its sunshine-yellow rolling cornfields, and its squat low-lying houses built of blocks of stone as long as a man is tall, as high as a child may grow, as wide as an arm is long.

“It’s like a sheet of gold-leaf a clumsy worker has torn holes in,” was Prince Mallen of Idoslane’s judgment as he surveyed the golden landscape. It lay as flat as a board at his horse’s feet. There were a few hillocks, perhaps ten or twenty paces high, which, from wishful thinking and ignorance, the Tabainer populace of the center and the south had designated mountains. None of them had ever seen the ranges proper, let alone another kingdom.

“It’s perfect territory for our heavy cavalry to storm. We’d thunder through and conquer it all in a whirlwind attack,” enthused Alvaro, companion to Mallen and commander of his bodyguard. He caught the disapproving look. “Of course, I don’t mean that seriously, my prince,” he added quickly, clearing his throat in embarrassment.