Markus Heitz - The Revenge of the Dwarves

“Samusin won’t desert us,” Franek said as he went off back to his work.

Lia finished her meal, wiped her hands on her breeches and went back to the opening, which was sheltered by a canvas awning to protect the workers from the sun. Tamas and Ove, two of the building masters, were studying their plans. She greeted them as she passed.

Tamas, the younger one, greeted her in return and looked at her. He liked what he saw and his inquiring gaze was no longer totally academic. “You’re late. Two others have gone down already,” he said, smiling. “I hope there’s room for you all. If not, come back up here and keep us company drawing up the charts.”

Lia stopped in her tracks. “Excuse me, sir. Who has gone down?”

“Two boys I just sent down,” murmured Ove without lifting his eyes from the plans. “We haven’t got much time. King Bruron wants to get started with the building. We need the last secrets of the vaults found quickly. And since you were on a break I sent down two young lads who were free.” He turned a page and made a mark on the site plan.

“It’s dangerous down there. I’ll go and find them.” She forced herself to smile and hurried down the cellar steps.

That was all she needed: children at work. She wasn’t worried about any of the other people she worked with because they could not move in the cramped conditions underground. Young lithe bodies, on the other hand, were competition.

Lia could see the boys working their way forward outside where the domed roof had once been. They were chattering, talking about their wages and about how they hoped to find treasure buried by past occupants of the palace.

“Hey, you boys,” she called, slithering through the narrowest of spaces like an eel. “Off with you! This is my cellar!”

“You wish!” laughed one of them.

“Master Ove sent us down here,” called the other one. “Go and complain to him if you don’t like the idea of us finding the treasure before you do.”

Lia forced her way through under one of the fallen blocks of stone. It rocked worryingly while she was still underneath it. “There is no treasure to find,” she said. “It’s not safe here for you. The chamber hasn’t settled.”

“We’ve done this a lot,” come the high-spirited response. “And anyway…”

Some of the rubble collapsed and clouds of dust rose up so she could not see. She coughed and cursed at the same time. “Are you all right?” she called, rubbing her eyes.

“Well I never! There’s someone down here! An old man with a long beard!”

Lia tried to move more quickly. It had happened. Now there were things she must prevent. “Where are you?”

“Idiot!” snarled the other boy at his friend. “You pushed against that pillar and you nearly had me buried in dirt. And that thing is not a man,” there was the sound of wooden boards clattering “-it’s a statue.”

“That wasn’t me. It fell in on its own,” came the defense. Now Lia could see both of the squabbling boys.

They were standing in a small cave-like space, no bigger than a store cupboard. It had somehow been formed when beams and pillars had twisted and collapsed. Between all the rubble lay a statue with its face uppermost. It was so true to life that Lia was not surprised the boy had thought it was real.

“So that’s where you are!” She slipped under one of the supports without touching it, then stood up. Slowly she approached the two treasure-seekers, her eyes sliding over the statue’s form. Everything was in place. Every fine detail of the clothing, each single beard hair, every fold and wrinkle in the old face could be recognized.

“It’s as if they’d turned someone into stone,” whispered the taller of the boys with respect. “It’s amazing.”

“It’ll bring us a good bit of extra money. One of those rich guys will want it for his garden or in his study, I bet. A good day’s work!” nodded his friend, giving a skeptical glance at the distance the statue would have to be heaved up. “We’ll have to dig a way to the top and get a hoist set up. We won’t be able to pull it through the rubble.” He threw Lia a warning look. “The statue is ours. Got that?”

She was furious that she’d taken that lunch break. If only she’d got back to work a little bit sooner she wouldn’t have run into trouble with these two kids at all. “Of course you found it. But it won’t get you any money. It’s already the property of Tomba Drinkfass,” she said, inventing a name. “He gave the statue to Nudin originally.”

“Even better,” said the taller of the two. “We’ll get a reward for finding it.”

“Yes, we will,” the other one stressed, pointing to his friend and himself. “You won’t.”

Lia had a quick think about how to make the best of the situation. She could go along with this and wait for her chance, follow the statue to its new owner and take it then. That would demand time and effort. And there’d be quite a to-do once any of Porista’s older citizens got wind of what had been found. Or she could…

“Samusin is my witness I won’t say a word about the statue. Or about you.” She spoke slowly before swiftly plunging her dagger into the throat of the boy at her left.

She cut his throat and then thrust her weapon into the other boy’s chest. Eyes wide open in surprise, he sank onto the statue’s base, blood gurgling. He stared at his murderess in complete astonishment at what she had done.

His friend grew weaker by the second and crumpled onto the floor, expiring soon afterwards. The blood from his slit throat no longer spurted out of the open gash, but overflowed much as a stew might boil over in an unwatched pot.

Lia watched them both die. The sacrifice was essential. For the greater good, more important than two young lives. Perhaps thousands would be saved. She dragged the two bodies, still warm and convulsing, into a small hollow under some debris and pushed away the supporting beams over where they lay.

Then she started on her way back, counting her steps so that she would be able to locate the statue again. Still gasping for air and sobbing she returned to the building supervisors and told them a terrible accident had happened.

“The cellar walls are soft as wax,” she reported, bursting into tears again. “It would be madness to go back in there.”

Ove and Tamas conferred briefly, then stopped the works for the day out of respect for the two children who had died. On the next day, they decided, the bodies should be fetched up and then the cellar area filled in.

L ia returned to the building site that night with Franek and ten helpers.

They carried poles, pickaxes, pulleys, rope and cable winches with them. A cart with two horses waited in a side road to transport their prize away. They had placed watchers in strategic places to warn them if anyone should approach. They had to work quickly. And they had to succeed, whatever the cost, whatever lives might be lost.

On the surface Lia paced out the distance she had calculated. Then she placed a marker on the flagstone. “It must be right under here,” she said to her companions. The men set to work.

Franek and Lia helped to shovel the debris to one side while the hole the men were digging grew steadily bigger. They had to take great care that none of the surface material broke off and fell back in.

“And to think I was ready to give up,” said Lia, thrilled that the treasure would soon be salvaged.

Her joy triumphed over her guilty conscience about the murder of the two young boys. She had told Franek what she had done, hoping the confession would make her feel better, but it had not worked. At least he had agreed that she had done the right thing. She would have to leave Porista once and for all. If the bodies were found she would be accused of the murders.