A
Discovery

“It’s long since I’ve dwelt here, and long since I’ve had news, but Tubal, great Dwarf Elder, settled here many ages before the World Before Time was peopled with all those kind that move in it now. My cousin, Bani, had a great hall here in the years before I left, and it’s to Bani we go to seek counsel now. Another hour’s walk should see us safely with him.”

“I don’t like the feel of this place, Dwarf. There’s something that doesn’t sit right. I can’t begin to tell you why, but I feel afraid now.”

Bear walked warily along, massive head raised, complete halt.

“I think we’d better scout ahead first, Dwarf, before we go any farther. Otter is small and clever, he can creep ahead and see if this is all my nose playing me tricks, or whether there is real danger.”

Otter agreed, and almost before their eyes, he was gone, slipped into shadow of tree and grass, so swiftly they were startled, and indeed wondered if he had vanished into thin air. Before they had settled themselves comfortably down to wait beneath a great weatherworn old oak, Otter had returned, eyes wide, small paws motioning them to follow him deeper into the woods. At last, after walking quite a long way into the thickening trees, and turning every few steps with a stern concerned look every time a twig cracked or a branch snapped, he stopped, and in the lowest of whispers, he spoke.

“A bit farther up the road there’s what’s left of a man camp of some sort. Still fresh enough to worry you, Bear. I guess that’s the man scent. There were two men there, beside a fire, making a meal, I guess, and talking pretty loudly to each other. I’m surprised you both didn’t hear it, they were carrying on so.”

“We heard nothing,” said Dwarf, feeling his ears.

“I heard something, but it didn’t sound like man. More a rumble like trees at night, or rock secrets.”

Bear shifted his great weight from hind paws to forequarters as he eased himself down to a sitting position, looking away in the direction they had come, and secretly straining to pick up man voices.

“The strange thing, Dwarf, is that I could understand them perfectly well.”

“That’s nothing to fret your whiskers over, dear Otter. You’ve lived long on the other side of the River, but there was a time before, I think, when you went about here, long ago. Who knows how many times, or in what forms? Crossing Calix Stay again simply awakened those times, so it’s natural you should understand their tongue. I fancy it hasn’t changed so much in all these years.”

“I rather like to think there would be more civil tongues to discourse in,” mumbled Bear, raising a paw to tug at his chin. “I find keeping my own hasn’t led me wrong all these years. Nothing ever came of meddling about in tongues.” Bear looked up to see Dwarf’s eyes resting on his own, deep and thoughtful, and slightly amused.

“No offense, Dwarf. Besides, you’re different. Everyone has his tasks and chores, and I guess that must be yours and your kind’s.” Bear trailed off. “Of course, I haven’t known many dwarfs before, but I imagine that’s what they’re like.”

“You’re not far amiss there, dear fellow,” laughed Dwarf. ‘Tor the most part we’re builders and delvers, but certain of the clans keep lore masters and such, and it was from a family of those that I sprang. Where others learned the older skills of metal and stone, I was taught songs and stories, and as a gatherer and keeper I traveled far and long to take up the other tongues of the world. All that was ages ago, when I was a spanner* as dwarf young are known, but I’ve long been under a mountain, away across the River, and have forgotten much I have known, or misplaced it somewhere under my hat.”

Dwarf took off the bright yellow head cover with the green brim and twirled it on his right hand. The late morning sun caught and held its spiraling motion, and for a moment it seemed to take flight, the fine gold and silver stitchwork catching fire with light. It began to sing in a low, croaking voice, and as Bear and Otter watched it began to fashion a series of images, pale and misty, as though they were watching a sunrise through silver-gray mists from a hole in the earth. There were trees in this vision, and a blue sky, sunless, but lighted by some brilliance that seemed to have no center. Then fair, sparkling towers in the form of cloverleaf and rose bloom, dazzling to look upon, and tall. A sound arose from somewhere, everywhere, and it grew until it was music, pure and joyful. Otter rose up to his full height and began to sway from side to side in an old form of dance of his sires, and Bear hummed along, patting a big hind paw and smiling. The hat spun slowly down into Dwarf’s hand, and he replaced it quickly on his head, pulling it firmly down until it touched his ears and his eyes were fairly hidden behind the rich green brim. With that, the vision and music vanished, and Bear , and Otter slowly returned from where they had taken them, awed and saddened at once.

“There’s more to a good hat than to keep the son off your skull, or a hard rain from slipping down the back of your collar. But continue, Otter, I’m afraid I’ve misguided your story.”

“I’ve forgotten where I was,” he said, blinking and stammering, “I mean, if...”

“You were wondering how it is you understood; the tongue of man, and I told you, although we haven’t heard yet what it was they were saying.”

Otter knitted his whiskers into a scowl, twitched; an ear, and blushed. “I was so struck with understanding them I’ve dear forgotten what they said.”

“Then perhaps the three of us should take a peep, and see and hear what we can. Not all men even in my last time here were to be trusted, although I’ll dare say more were then than now.”

“Shouldn’t we be getting on to your kin’s house instead of dallying about in business that’s not our own?”

“My dear shambling old hearthrug, all business’ here may concern us, and it’s always wise to pick up a bit of news when traveling in unfamiliar times. Best armed, best warned, or so it goes in some tongues.”

“I hope they’re not discussing hides,” said Otter.

“I doubt if they’re hunters, Otter. What you said of a large camp speaks against that.”

“All the more reason to worry, so many mouths to feed,” grumped Bear.

“Being thick-skinned, I don’t worry as much about that as most might, although bear stew might appeal to some.”

Otter giggled into his whiskers.

“There would be a bit left over for supper, too.”

Bear’s huge paw reached out to swipe his flanks, but Otter had scampered ahead, suddenly alert.

“Shush, they’ll hear us,” he warned, but too late, for the two men in the clearing of the camp had heard, and both now stood upright, staring straight into the thickets that concealed the companions.