Authors: Niel Hancock
“Well, that’s all good and proper, I’m sure,” snorted Bear. “The saying goes m bear lore that a sleeping bear is the best bear in winter, and here I am, out traipsing about like a silly goose, looking for I don’t know what, and not even sure of what to do if I find it.”
Otter tugged at the pack to settle it more securely on his back, and patted his ruffled stomach fur down.
“Oh, we’ll know what to do, Bear. I can’t imagine not knowing. We’ll most likely creep quietly back here, or signal Dwarf, or as likely as not, have a good walk, and maybe exchange news of some sort, if we do chance across any of our own kind anywhere.”
“Not likely to meet our sort in these parts,” muttered Bear. “And I haven’t heard or seen any indications that there are many animals left this side of the River. And those there are might be not so much of a mind to have any dealings with us. I’m sure they’re all very nice, good sorts, perhaps, but not very much company, I shouldn’t imagine.”
“Oh, Bear,” chirped Otter, “there are good sorts here, I’m sure. Maybe just not as well traveled, or as well read. Things have changed a bit since you and I were new here.”
“You two have managed to waste the better part of the morning, and so far as I’ve seen, not made any real progress at getting down to the job at hand,” snapped Dwarf, huffing a bit.
“At least well have a mile or so between us and this pesky dwarf,” replied Bear shortly. “Come on, Otter, hop up, and I’ll give you a ride.”
“Thanks, Bear, but I’d just as soon walk awhile. There are some lovely snowbanks I’m dying to sled on. You might try too, if you’d like some fun.”
“No thanks, I’ll find my fun in front of my fire when we get this little errand done. It could even be that I may not hear more from a dwarf the rest of the winter.”
“And you won’t, old fellow, if you’ll only be about what you ought to be about. This is for our own protection. And there won’t be
any
fire at the hearth if we let ourselves be lulled into a false sense of safety simply because we were too lazy to look to our own defense.”
“Come on, Bear. Dwarf’s right, and you know it. We’ll get this done, and settle it all, so we can have a nice surprise party for ourselves when we get back.”
“Otter’s right, Bear. Hurry along, and the quicker done, the sooner forgotten. We’ll all rest easier, knowing one way or another the lay of the land and who or what’s been passing on or around our boundaries.”
Otter had scampered ahead of the big animal, and turned to shout over his shoulder in a giggling voice.
“Last one to the marsh pond is a spotted plover.”
Without waiting for a reply, Otter was gone, galloping hard in his clumsy-footed manner toward a long, gently sloping rise that ran in a slow, flowing motion down the lower portions of the white-covered valley.
In another instant, Otter was nose-bumping down a long drift, whistling and chirping his high spirits, and the object of his mission forgotten.
Dwarf huffed, and turned angrily to Bear.
“There, if for no other reason, is Why you should be going, to keep an eye out on that reckless, irresponsible water dog friend of yours.”
Bear was already away without answering, for he’d remembered as they talked that he’d found a honey stump along somewhere down in the area of the marsh pond, and that the tree was more than half full the last time he’d been there, which was beyond the fog of his day-by-day memory, but he’d liked die clover sweet taste of the marsh bees’ honey, and if one were forced to be out in the middle of winter, then it was good to have the pleasing prospects of a decent meal to keep one’s spirits up.
Bear loped on, the cold snow lying in a fine powder over his back and squeaking beneath his paws.
Ahead he saw Otter, standing to wave his farewell to Dwarf, who stumped forward a few paces, his hands jammed deeply into his cloak, a worried frown playing across the smile he had made himself wear as he was saying goodbye to his friends.
Broco could not put his finger exactly on any one sign or indication, but there was something, some indefinable something that was not right. A raising of the hair at the back of his neck, or an odd sensation in the middle of the night, or passing fancies at different times that someone, or something, had broken their fastness in the beautiful valley, and that they were no longer out of sight or reach of an enemy that Greyfax had warned him of in their meeting, so long ago now that Broco began to wonder if it had taken place at all.
As he watched his two friends scrambling across the wide white expanse before him, out of earshot now, he raised his hand in salute, and rather than let himself go on imagining things, he marched resolutely into his kitchen and began the tedious task of cleaning up after his baking.
D
warf sat before a late evening fire, reading and making a note or two as he turned through the heavy journal on his lap.
This time, he thought, something must surely come of it. The signs of all the suns Were in the right spheres, and the signs of his family lore book spoke of the sameness as there was before, when the lords underground had forged their brilliant wares, and the heavens were only a few billion aeons old in their second birth.
For a relatively young dwarf, he had seen something more than a small part of this world, and had been caught up in the long and weary Wars of the Dragon, m the times of trouble, and gone over Calix Stay at the end of those years, his heart saddened and broken by the death of his mother and the departure of his father for the Delvings. His mother had perished at the Fourth Battle of Endin River, along with many cousins, uncles, great-grand-uncles, and a host of friends from the multitude of dwarfish clans which flourished in the early beginnings of Atlanton Earth.
He knew of the stories of Bear and Otter, who had so often related tales of their other lives over the comfort of a late fire such as the one he sat before now. He missed the company of his friends, and he could not keep himself from being concerned about them.
“Stumble into no end of mischief, as like as not,” he muttered aloud. “I’ve always been fortunate enough to be close by to keep them from coming to any real harm, but drat it, I simply had to let them go off alone this once, and we must simply have the lay of the land. Greyfax never said anything more than hole up and wait; and that’s twelve winters past.”
Froghorn lay curled at the little man’s feet, and he opened one eye to listen to Broco.
“It’s been two full days now, without a signal or any other sign. I hope they haven’t come to grief.’’
Broco leapt up and began pacing furiously up and down before the fire.
“It really isn’t like them to stay away like this. I half suspected they’d come dragging home last night, reporting all’s well, and there would have been an end of it.”
Froghorn had opened his other eye, and sat up, cleaning his paw.
“I don’t suppose you might find them for me?” mused Broco, half to himself. “They probably have lost themselves somehow, and need a guide to find their way back. And it wouldn’t hurt anything if you were to take a look around yourself.”
Froghorn swallowed a lazy yawn and went to the door.
“That’s the spirit, old fellow. We’ll both feel better if you take a look. Perhaps it’s all unnecessary, but then better safe than sorry. And I’II keep the fort here.”
The crisp chill of the night blew into the room as Dwarf opened the door, and Froghorn shot quickly out, and soon was beyond Broco’s vision, disappeared into the bright glow of the firelight that glittered merrily on the new powdered white snow on the porch step.
He gazed out into the darkness for a moment longer, then shut the door softly on the doubts and fear that had stolen over him.
And inside, now completely alone, the doubts took on more terrifying possibilities.
Broco stirred up the fire and threw on another log to brighten the dark shadows that seemed to have invaded the cheery little study since Froghorn had gone.
A strange change came over the flames, turning from orange to bright green and purple, and then a series of brilliant white flashes, followed by a beautiful sound of pipe music, soft at first, then louder.
Broco had Been lost in thought in his old easy chair, but now jumped to his feet in great alarm.
“Great blades of Co’in,” he cried, and dashed for the bucket of water that stood on his sideboard near the sink.
A loud crackling sound exploded with tiny blue stars, and as Broco whirled to douse the runaway flames with the water, he became aware of a figure sitting in the chair he had just vacated. It was an old man, dressed in gray from head to foot, except for his vest, which showed through his open cloak. It was a magnificent brocaded vest of such fine material it sparkled and spun the firelight in dizzy reflections, as if it were water, or glass, or some wonderful stone. Upon his head was the five-pointed star of the Circle of Windameir.
The dwarf stood speechless for a moment.
“Greyfax Grimwald,” he at last breathed softly. “I thought you’d never return.”
The wizard smiled gently at his small friend.
“I was gone for a time, but the hour has now struck that I have returned.”
“But,” Dwarf blustered, “I mean just like this?” Broco reddened, then blurted out, “I thought there would be more of a to-do than this.”
“Fireworks, or a parade? No, my good spanner nothing so grand as all that. Enough to be here at all with all the uproar and turmoil. I’m lucky to have a moment to spare.”
“And Bear and Otter will never forgive me, to say nothing of that infernal cat of mine,” went on Dwarf, rolling his eyes and clenching his fists. “Or am I just dreaming this?” he cried suddenly, and before Greyfax could move, Broco” had sprung at him and clutched the arm of his cloak.
“Here, here, old fellow, this will never do. You may rest assured that if I wanted you to assume you were dreaming, I would arrange it. Now, there’s no such thing going on, and I have much to say, and instructions to give, and I must be quick about it. And in order to do that, I think we shall have to return to my own drawing room for a chat, and to take care of the business there that must be taken care of.”
With this, he raised a hand and made a secret sign, and to Dwarf’s amazement, he was aware of flying beside Greyfax through a dim tube of flashing stars, with glowing crimson and purple lights, somewhat like the lights made by the passing of a loud sound on a dark night.
Presently they were standing in a cozy little sitting room with a bright fire.
Greyfax spoke as if nothing at all had occurred.
“I must tell you, my dear fellow, that what I have to propose to you won’t be at all pleasant, but it is a necessity all the same.”
Dwarf had stumbled in a daze to the fire, and stood staring at the gray figure before him.
Greyfax hastily poured out a cup of tea for Broco, and handed it to him.
“I will try to explain a bit further although it may seem a bit confusing at the outset, but perhaps it will make somewhat more sense further on.” The wizard paused, and took a sip of the cup he had poured for himself. “This is all a hasty business, and I regret the fact you’ve been here so long without a sign from me. I had not planned things to keep me away for so long, yet there were other matters that had to be attended to, and events don’t always turn out exactly as we would have them. Naturally, it is all his will, but there are still surprises, now and again.”
“What’s all this?” Dwarf muttered feebly, trying to steady the teacup long enough to take a rip.
“Exactly, old fellow, exactly. What’s all this, indeed?” Greyfax chuckled momentarily.
“I’m pleased, by the way, to see you’ve followed my advice, and kept yourself out of harm’s way.”
Broco’s confusion was diminishing, and he managed to calm his voice long enough to speak.
“I know time isn’t much, to your way of thinking, but I’ve seen twelve winters, counting this one, since I last saw you. There’s been no word, no sign, not so much as a hint as to what we should do or not do, and all we’ve managed to do is exactly whatever it was we were doing before we crossed Calix Stay, although I dare say we did it under more pleasant circumstances there than here. And now you poof yourself back from nowhere, drag me here in the middle of the night; and I can’t make head or tail of any of it.”
Dwarf’s teacup rattled” noisily against his saucer, and he had to reach out quickly to keep it from spilling onto the gold and red hearthrug.
“Has it been so bad as that? You sound bitter, friend Broco.”
“Not bitter, just confused. I’ve had no word from beyond our valley in so long that Bear and Otter went off to see what news they could gather, and there was no one to guide us, no advice from any quarter, and then I sent that lump of a cat off to find where Otter and Bear had gotten to, and while they’re all away, here you’ve shown up.”
“You have been more closely guarded than you may have been aware of,” Greyfax said, smiling slightly.
Then couldn’t I have had some sign or token of it? I feel we’ve been wasting time, and our journey across Calix Stay of no importance.”