Erruel and his horse.

    In the half-light, it was difficult to gauge the distance, the tops of the stones looked like miniature mountains lost in the clouds, peaks slick with moss instead of snow, the way looked treacherous, the water dark, the gap just wide enough to catch him out. With no room to turn or the space to take a run, he would have to leap far. He prayed that he would make it. Over- hanging branches looked tantalizingly close. His right boot squelched as he wriggled his toes.



    ‘Come on Oriin you can do it. Don’t think. Just jump. Here is my hand. I won’t let you fall.’



    Oriin did not need to open his eyes to tell that the dawn was close at hand. The air was sharp. Clinical. Filled with the heady scent of pine.

    Underfoot, the humus was thick. Like a wet sponge. Muck, mold and mushroom, everything damp as life returned to the soil. Nothing wasted. Under the trees he found himself caught in a tangle of communication. Taking the time to listen. The birds told him. Their chatter was fascinating. It was as if they were all speaking their own languages. Some sounded angry. Others energetic and excited. If only he could understand. It would be a fine thing. If only - he whispered.



    To be able to under stand nature. Unravel its secrets. Why should it be so hard? Why the mystery? Why was there always a mystery? Surely there should be someone that would know. Someone with the answer. How could life go on forever without any one knowing any better? As the first rays warmed his skin it felt like a gentle touch, feather light, sending a shiver. It made him smile. Caught in the moment. A wood pecker hammered. The sound traveled far, the wood upon which it hammered sounded hollow and distant, the tone and temper unique. It was one of his favourite sounds. He had never seen one up close. They were hard to track down. Elusive. Others had described it. Each time different. He wanted to see one for real. He wanted to compare it to the picture they had put in his mind. A bird with a flat beak. Brightly coloured. Dizzy. The sound stopped. Oriin waited for it to begin again but it did not. After a moment his mind wandered once more to the shrill voices and the curious songs. The essence of a forest he had had decided was so special that few had the gift to really understand. The first step, that breath. It could bring peace even to the most tortured soul. A man could dream. Under the trees a man could happily dream his life away and never wake. And the dream was as real as an apple plucked from a tree, filled with flavour, the way life should be, lost in a mosaic of light, part of a fairy tale.



    He imagined him self alone on an island. In the eye of a storm. The moment before the return of the confusion. Few could understand. It was times like these when the moment neared perfection that a mans life would begin to make sense, this close to nature anything could happen. And yet so far. One man cast adrift to stare at the flame, and find some meaning, that would drive him on, give him purpose, hope, the greater the pain, the greater the gift in return, the relief knowing that there is a path for all to follow. Though some may struggle. His fathers last words were always held close to his heart. He found comfort in that voice. Wounds healed. But scars remain. A disfigurement etched across his heart. And no one knows but he. All things are possible, son, hold true, and be your self. No matter what others might do and say.



    At the time, all they had been were words. Wasted. He found comfort in a voice from the past. Wounds healed but the scars remained. No one save he could feel the disfigurement etched across his heart. But sometimes, just, sometimes, the maelstrom of self importance that had been his youth was a sickness counterproductive to the natural order of things. It could lead many to ruin. Truth to a child was anathema. Oblivious to the truth, always knowing better, he had been no exception. But all the same the farmer planted. And against the odds the seeds like little pearls had survived. All that was needed was some fertile ground and as Oriin evolved as a person he began to feel the truth. Looking back he could see the footsteps. As they wandered not far from the path. More perfect in hindsight. He had been gifted. Truly. Having a father that cared. One mans soul becoming another’s. A memory trapped by melancholy. Tainted by pain. When the gift it self was meant to be joyous. Losing his father after waiting his whole life for the event was like a friend casting the rope. He was now free to follow his own path, his dreams, the boat, it would take him far, if he believed. The pain he felt in his heart was the seed of his inner strength struggling to be born. His father had given it to him to pass it on. To fail would be to sully the memory of a very special man. A great and loving man. Who grew larger than life as each day passes. Just because he did not show it at the time did not mean it was never there.One thing was clear. There was meaning now. Where there had been shadow, something had awakened. Inside he knew he was growing. Just like the land and the forest around him. Yesterday was a place for fools. But there were lessons hidden there to be learned by the wise man. Tomorrow was a promise that only a fool would turn down. His father had said. And as he grew form a boy to a man life would become clearer, less grey.



    The light warmed his eye lids and Oriin enjoyed the sensation. He wanted it to last. There were long nights ahead, by the fire, and he hated the cold, judging by the way the leaves rustled overhead, it would not be long. Ancient timbers creaked and groaned. Like old bones. The grandest oaks grew here. In all the forest this was the one special place. And it was imprinted in his memory. Magnificent. He opened his eyes. He felt privileged just to be there. Tiny as an ant. Surely this was heaven. Rays shone golden. Straight arrows shot by the gods. None were needed. As they day grew older only a fool could pass by this way an not be impressed. The clean heaving beauty. How can something so huge support so much weight? The roots must be enormous. A giant web underground judging by the distance, for little or nothing grew under their shade save for stunted grasses an occasional opportunistic herb. Lichens on rock and some mosses were the only healthy signs of life. The sprawling boughs were bigger than most trees. They looked like they could hold up the sky. Beseeching arms raising the heavens. Pushing competitors away any that resisted grew unnaturally. Dwarfed and misshapen they tottered on the brink. Healthier specimens grew at a more respectful distance. These were no ordinary trees, there was a power here and Oriin felt it. They were bigger than their brethren. They would stand at the worlds end.



    He watched as a leaf fell. It was bright enough now and the corpse descended in a spiral, slowly, twisting in the air. It landed on the surface of the pond making barely a ripple. The gentle breeze seized it. As it spun ever so slowly it moved across the surface. It caught in an eddy and then spun faster. On it a brightly coloured beetle caught his eye. He leaned closer. The desperate sailor was trying to hook a hairy foot over the edge in order to hoist itself clear. All of a sudden, there was as swirl. Oriin caught the brief glimpse of a tail. This time the ripples spread in ever increasing circles, he watched the scene transfixed. The leaf drifted out of sight.



    Through a gap he spotted a white rump. He had almost missed it. But a twitching tail had given its position away. A head came up and doleful eyes stared in his direction. He was just about to move when grunts came from the undergrowth. Then high pitched squeals. He nearly took a backward step with fright but he remembered where he was and steadied himself using his arms. The heel of his boot hovered in mid air. He was relieved. That was too close. He watched as the tips of the briars wavered and the laurels that grew in the patches of light shuddered. He smiled. The day almost got off to a cold start.



    The single biggest lesson that a man could learn - his father had said, - was that all things had a place in the grand scheme, big or small it mattered not, there was a balance, and if he could understand that, then life would be all the easier for knowing. Take the squirrel. The robber in the trees. He had said.- He gorges himself on the nuts that he steals, robbing the tree of the next generation, hoarding all that he can carry in shallow holes beneath the fallen leaves. Acorns would lie there, forgotten. In the spring the sacrifice was repaid tenfold. Green shoots popping from the ground, far enough away to begin a life of their own. There was a plan. A grand one. Everything in the forest was connected. The offer of bounty for duty. The rabbits that scatter as the foot falls. The badger asleep deep in its set. Even the fox plays its part keeping the land strong.



    Several piglets squealed. The boar would be close by. Angry. Always angry and very dangerous. Their tusks could gut a man with one sweep of their head. They were big and powerful and never strayed too far. At that moment, Oriin was glad to be stranded in the middle of the pond. The water was deep and the boars legs were short. He wasn’t sure if that would make a difference but it gave him at least a little comfort.



    He heard his name being called. Erruel was shouting at him. As always his friend was impatient. On the far side he was waiting waving his hands in a bid to catch Oriin’s attention. How long had he been standing here? Erruel was always in a hurry. Keeping his eye on his goal. The far bank. He readied himself. Over hanging branches were casting shade. It was difficult to see. He took a deep breath. He noted the wet slick look on the surface of the stones. If only he had been a little taller. This would have been a small matter. But wishing didn’t plant trees. Doing did. Erruel stood with his arm outstretched. He focused on that hand. He counted out loud. On three he leaped forward. It was over so fast all he could remember was the rush forward. Somehow his feet landed on solid stone. But the closer he got his timing became strained. His confidence waned. He began to panic but could not stop his forward momentum. His little legs churned. And with one final effort he dived for the bank. His toes dug deep into the leather of his boot. The nail lifted. Tipping backwards he milled his arms as he scrambled for purchase. A hand reached out. Grabbing him by the scruff of his neck Erruel hauled him clear. He fell to the ground half dragged. For a second he thought he was going to fall in and half expected the water to close over his head. Erruel stood smiling. His hands on his hips.



    Oriin rose to his feet. His forehead was dripping with sweat. He wiped it with his sleeve and then plonked himself down on a moss covered tree stump. He was exhausted. Bald as a coot, thick shouldered, his ears looked like slabs of bacon. Catching his breath he looked up at Erruel. His friend was grinning.



    ‘Well, that worked out nice in the end. Didn’t it?’



    ‘You call that working out well? I think I broke my foot.’



    ‘ No you didn’t now get up. Or we are going to be late. What took you so long. I was nearly going to go back and get you. Were you day dreaming again?’



    ‘ No. I was just thinking that’s all.’



    Erruel stared for a moment longer but said nothing, his friend was always day dreaming and over the years he had gotten used to it, but every now and then it could irritate, especially if he was in a rush and there was something to be done. He turned around and continued on. Oriin watched him go. His heart still racing. He was a little shaken. He had forgotten to remove and carry his axe as was the correct thing to do when crossing water. One moment of forgetfulness. It could have ended in disaster. It was a lesson well learned. Next time he would know better. He stood up. The harness creaked. The heavy weight reminding him of how dangerous it was not to be paying attention. His toe was paining him as he climbed up the bank. There was a lot of moss but he negotiated it and hauled him self clear by grabbing at roots. They curled like eels. Some way up a head Erruel was leading the way. He was carrying his axe. Oriin felt a little foolish.



    ‘ Wait up.’ he shouted.



    They way became easier and he caught up. He reached down and picked up a slender stick. It was as thin as a whip and he slashed the air with it. Shouting a battle cry he startled Erruel. Taken by surprise Erruel stumbled backward several steps landing hard on his backside.



    ‘You fool. What did you do that for?’



    ‘ I was just fooling around. What’s got into you? Can you not take a joke?’



    ‘ A joke?’



    Oriin could see the look of anger as he climbed to his feet feeling his behind his hand came a way wet there was mud in his hand. He said nothing as he stormed off. Orin watched him go. He wanted to laugh. But thought better of it. If the tables had been turned he was in no doubt. He shouted an apology. When he caught up he smiled at his friend but Erruel didn’t acknowledge him. Instead he just shook his head and quickened his pace. Further on his expression eased. Oriin kept darting a look to gauge his mood. It was a bright sunny day. The dwarves attention was fey as a butterfly gliding from one flower to the next. And the conversation returned. Though it was a little awkward at first.



    ‘ You would have done the same to me.’



    ‘ No I wouldn’t.’



    ‘ Yes you would, you liar.’



    ‘Never mind.’



    They passed a stand of nettles. The stingers were tall and they swayed in the breeze. The little hairs along the stems were clearly visible. Without thinking, Oriin lopped the heads off them. There came a cry. Gingerly he turned around. Erruel was holding his hands under his armpits. He looked to be in pain. Oriin dropped the stick. He moved closer. Already there were white dots appearing. Erruel held out his hands. They swollen. Erruel was scratching them the skin was turning red. Oriin felt guilty.



    ‘Don’t scratch at them. It will just make them worse. I did not mean it.’ he said in a quiet voice.



    ‘ You never do. Do you?’



    ‘ I’ll go get some leaves. Sorry.’



    Disappearing into the undergrowth he searched for something that would ease the pain. He knew the cure for nettle stings. Everyone did. But it was not his fault. Nettles were meant to be whacked. Everyone whacked nettles. Most of all Erruel. What had happened was an accident. He spotted the leaves. Verdant green and with a rough texture, a bunch of them was growing not far away. Bending down he grabbed a bunch pulling them free. When he returned Erruel was rocking back and forward. Oriin could see the anger in his eyes and said nothing as he offered him the green leaves. His friend reached out and snatched them.



    A little later as they walked the sun was shining hot. Out of season the air was warm and moist upon the tongue. They passed by a pool. Fat trout were lazing at the surface sipping the occasional fly. Thick tails tossed the water. Willows grew in abundance. Tendrils reached down into the water offering shade. The air was filled with a haze of tiny flies. Oriin slowed down. Near to the waters edge he crouched down. White mouths opened and closed under the shade of a willow. The rhythm held him. He could see by the broad backs that these fish were large. He longed to fish for one. To catch it and hold it for a moment. He felt the oncoming of panic. Fishing did that to him. The madness of it all. Fishing made his heart flutter, even to be near the waters edge kindled a desperation. He longed to toss a line. Erruel shoved him rudely. And he stumbled forward.





    ‘Will you come on.’



    Oriin had got a fright. It was Erruel’s turn to smile now. Quick to change the subject he spoke out.



    ‘What a lousy cook dame Brundle is turning out to, and all that we do for her- I am thinking of complaining. She is putting too much salt in her pies. Now I am dying with the thirst.’



    ‘Didn’t stop you stuffing your pie hole, did it? You fat hog…..what about me? You ate everything. I’m half starved!’



    ‘How am I gonna grow big enough to ride a horse if I do not steal a pie every now and then, answer me that.’



    Oriin stopped.



    ‘A horse!….ha ha, that’s a good one. You’re not on about that again now, are you? How many times have we been through this, Erruel? I think by now, I have lost count. Even if I use all my fingers. But ‘tis a good one, I’ll grant you that…..ha ha ha. A horse!’



    Catching his breath he continued on his way. Erruel stood glowering after him.



    ‘And besides, Erruel, as I have said often enough…so this isn’t the first time, you ain’t never even seen a horse. Why do you keep pretending?



    Erruel did not respond. At first he just continued to stare. Oriin had a big smirk and was cocky. He knew the right buttons to push. He felt his good mood flitter away. It nearly always went this way. The same argument over and over. No wonder Oriin had run out of fingers.



    ‘Use your toes!’ he barked and stormed ahead.



    ‘Hey long legs. Wait up will ya? I can’t gallop you know!’



    Erruel stopped in his tracks and whirled about. Again Oriin swished the top off a perfect flock of nettles and finished with a flourish. A leaf grazed Erruels nose and he batted it as if it had fangs.



    ‘ Get rid of that feckin stick will ya! Give it over. My feckin hands are already killing me and I have, you know I have. And if you don’t stop pulling my chain Oriin I will knock you down on your fat ass, just like I do every other day.’



    ‘Erruel hang on a moment there, like a good fellow. First of all it is me, Oriin, that you are lying to, and not the others. So why all the pretence? I know, and you do too, that with a hand on yer heart, and the truth be known and all that kinda stuff, and actually, I am normally comfortable around that kinda stuff, but as long as you know, that I know you know, that I know………well then, I guess, it’s okay. But as long as you know that, I just wanted you to know. Did you know that?



    Erruel stopped and leaned against the thick bole of a tree. He stared with a blank expression.



    ‘I haven’t a clue what you are on about. Do you know that? And that’s scary. Cause I know you the best and I still can’t understand what you go on about half the time. Most of the time.’ He corrected.



    ‘And besides, you little shiny headed pie stealing runt, I am not gonna waste this beautiful day standing here arguing with you. Why should I bother….eh? All I am gonna say is that I know what I know, and what you know, you can go on pretending that you know, and we will leave it at that, for the sake of peace. Shall we?’



    ‘You just called me shiny head! I told you not to. I wear my hair this short cause I want to. Sure look at yours. You look like a bush on fire you big lanky idiot. I don’t see the girls petting you and complimenting you on yer ears like they do to me.’



    Oriin slumped down on a fallen trunk and stared at the ground. Erruel was very angry and watched him. But he knew he had hit the sweet spot. There were tears there and he knew it. Oriin sniffled. But he did not look up. There were not too many bald dwarves in the village so this made Oriin special. But not in a good way. This was turning out to be one of those days. Everything up to now had been perfect. It was warm and the day felt alive, there was so much for them to choose what to do, but now this. There was a bad feeling in the air. Tension. Erruel continued to stare but his mind was racing. He was not enjoying this. Seeing his friend cry brought him shame. He did not need to wait till later to realize he had been wrong to do what he did. And if he wanted to salvage what he could. This was the time. It would have to be done right now. Oriin’s ears were enormous. So much so, they actually sagged. As a rule he seldom mentioned them. But in a quarrel they were fair game. They were his trump card. But like always, it was hard to stay angry with Oriin, he was too good natured. He did not have a mean bone in his body.



    Even though he got picked on. And he was often the butt of others folks humour. He did not deserve this. After all he was his best friend. And at that moment Erruel felt cruel. Almost as if he had tortured a puppy. Ever the duellist he liked to win. The quickest way was always through the heart. And underlying the whole situation was the awful truth that Oriin was correct. He had gotten himself into this mess. He had only himself to blame. If the truth be known he had never actually seen a living horse but the lie had taken too deep a hold. Should he just say it now and be done with it. Get it over. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. After all he had his pride. Everything he had learned about them was by listening to other folks conversations. They had ponies back in The Brook. But they were short and squat. Their hair long almost like fur. But from what he gleamed these animals were fabulous to behold. And in his dreams he rode them. And every day he thought about them. He wouldn’t give them up right now.



    ‘Why do you always do this to me, Erruel?’ Oriin spoke without lifting his head.



    ‘Do what to you?’



    ‘ You know very well.’



    Erruel paused, then he spoke, in almost a whisper.



    ‘It’s just what friends do Oriin, there is no harm in it, honest. I sometimes go too far. I didn’t mean nothing by it, you know me, I am sorry.’



    Oriin wanted to stand up and go home. The day had started out so promising. The weather. Everything. He fancied going fishing. It was a perfect day for it. The trout would be fat and lazy. And he had seen a couple of monsters taking shade beneath and over hanging willow tree. He knew where he could get big fat worms and they could always filch a pie or two just to make the day perfect, but now, this. He would wait and see how far Erruel was prepared to go to patch things up. But they were wasting precious time. His pulse was beginning to race. He should have never thought about fishing. Now the thought would consume him. For it was his passion.



    ‘Erruel, sometimes I wonder.’



    ‘You wonder what?, Oriin.’



    ‘I just wonder that’s all, now lets go, or we will be late.’



    They pushed and jostled one another as they walked. They came to a stout wooden bridge. Others were gathered there waiting for their turn to cross. They were the last in line. The sound from their booted feet made a hollow sound as they crossed.



    ‘ Is it true that when a large group crosses a bridge they break step on purpose?’



    ‘What do you mean?’



    ‘Soldiers.’



    ‘I don’t know.’



    ‘One of the elders told me that when soldiers crossed a bridge they broke step so that the combined rhythm of their marching does not shake the bridge to pieces.’



    ‘What fool told you that?



    ‘It made sense to me.’



    ‘Well it doesn’t make sense to me.’



    They had made this crossing on countless occasions. They had a ritual. Half way across they stopped. Both of them peered over the side. The sight always thrilled. It was a long way down. Several hundred feet below the water was a small white snake that wound its way until it disappeared around a bend. The boys carried stones in their pockets. One by one they let them drop. Bouncing from the hard smooth stone each one causing an echo. A sharp snap. Neither one heard any splash for the noise coming from the spillway was too loud. When the rains came and with it the floods this was the place for the brave to test their mettle. It was an epic experience. With their hearts thumping they would stand in this exact spot with their hands gripping the wooden rails. And though the bridge was sturdy. There was always the chance. The feeling was so powerful that many would come and watch the roiling water thunder over the edge often dragging trees to their death. It was the loudest sound that either had ever heard.But at that moment the waters still gushed over the edge and it was still a wondrous sight even without the floods. The gorge smelled earthy and real. Humus and moss, mushrooms and rotting louse infested wood. A thick broth to entice the nostril and instil a memory that would last a life time. It was calm and almost serene.



    ‘ I bet you something nasty lives down there. Something that eats babies.’



    ‘Yea right Oriin. There’s a monster alright but its living in your head and it makes you say a lot of stupid things.’



    ‘ Ha, ha, ha, ha.’ Oriin laughed out loud. His laughter echoed.



    ‘Tell me the story again Erruel, go on, tell me.’



    ‘What? You mean the same bloody story that I tell you over and over again. You have to be kidding me.’



    ‘Yep. I mean no. I like that story. It makes me think. Do you not think about it Erruel. Every time we cross this way…..I know, I do.’



    ‘Nope.’



    ‘Really?’



    ‘I have better things to be doing……like…’



    ‘Don’t say it!’



    Erruel caught mid sentence looked at Oriin. He had a cheeky smirk on his face. Erruel laughed out loud.



    ‘I was not going to say that!’



    ‘Yes you were!’



    ‘I……oh forget it, let’s not go there, shall we?’



    ‘Then tell me the story.’



    Erruel felt like he had been tricked. His eyes became slits. They should be making tracks and not chatting but he enjoyed the telling of stories. It was an art form that was not lost among his people.



    ‘The legend is, as all legends, are.’



    ‘Erruel! stop there, why would you say that?’



    ‘What do you mean?’



    ‘The legend is as all legends are……that makes no sense.’



    ‘Who, is telling the story?’



    ‘Err…you are, sorry.’



    ‘May I continue? This is my style Oriin, all stories should be grand, with lots of arm waving and big flowing words. The storyteller should put the effort in. Like I always do…anyway, where was I ? Oh yeah. This story is older than old.’



    Oriin looked him in the eye, but let him continue.



    ‘No one can be sure, for sure, but it is said that the lightening created the Two Brothers. Now they stand guard over the entrance to the mine.’



    ‘And?’



    And what?’



    ‘Is that it?’



    ‘Yep you know it is.’



    ‘I thought you were gonna put some effort in to the telling of the story….,why such an epic start?’



    ‘ Epic starts are the most important part. The rest is always boring you know that.’



    They fell about. They laughed so hard. And after the laughter died down they turned and made their way across. Their footsteps lost in the noise. Up the path they trundled at a slow meandering pace, every excuse to idle they used until they passed the summit. Being to lazy to fight it, their pace quickened a little as they made their way down the other side. Coming to a halt neither of them spoke. Craning their necks they looked up at the two oaks that guarded the mine. The entrance was through a rift in a sheer face of stone. At the base of the hill it was a zig zag that was mired in shadow. No birds were singing. Even the sound of the river had vanished here. They were massive. And they looked as giants should. Gnarled arms reaching out. Clawing at the sky. Or was it anger. The gnarled features made it difficult to tell which. The sight sent shivers down the spine. So life like. They could almost feel a presence. Erruel turned his head slightly to one side. Without taking his eyes from them, he whispered.



    ‘I have heard talk of others that be just as tall.’



    ‘Please Erruel, let this not be another horse thing.’



    ‘All I said originally was, that someday, I would like to ride a horse, and that is all. What’s the harm in that?’



    Oriin was smiling.



    Erruel scowled.



    ‘A big man has to have big dreams Oriin. To get by on. Life, should be about more than just grubbing around in a hole under the ground, and for what? Just to wake, sleep, eat and die. Where is the adventure in that? Tell me. A pie or two and no hope? Oriin Tarrinforde, must we grow old before our time? Just because being normal and fitting in, is about being all serious. Why does life have to be all doom and gloom when there are birds singing in the trees, and the sun is laughing up there in the sky……laughing for us Oriin. Living is meant to be lived. Life is for life. And I for one will take charge of my own destiny and you had better take charge of yours. Let us make mistakes and be damned making them. That’s what I say. Feck em all Oriin….yea Feck em!’



    Erruel had that look in his eye. Oriin had been listening with intent as he always did. Erruel had a way of making things sound inviting. He felt excited, but did not know quite why.



    ‘And what exactly are you going on about. What is it that you have in your conniving little mind, spit it out and be done with it.’



    ‘The door!.’



    ‘You have to be joking me. I was thinking more a long the lines of fishing. We could take the day off and catch a few beauties I have it all planned out and I was gonna tell you.’



    ‘Nope.’



    ‘That, is not a good idea.’



    ‘Yes it is!’



    ‘How do you make that out?’



    ‘Easy. It is the only place left in this forest that we have never been. And! May I add, as hunters, it is our duty to go and take a look. Just to be sure. I mean, just to be sure for the benefit of all the others.’



    ‘Wait a minute there. What are you going on about. That way is forbidden. Someone knows what is in there already, that is why it is off limits and no amount of epic story telling is ever gonna change that fact, Erruel.’



    ‘When was the last time you even heard it mentioned? Nearly never? Yea, I thought so. Here’s what I think. There is something very important down there. Simple, because if there wasn’t, then it would not be forbidden. Are you following me thus far? And by deduction, if we are forbidden to go there, then we must go there, just to check. Make sure everything is okay, so we can tell them if it is not, so that they would all know before something happened that might be bad, and now is the time. Some where in the future we will look back and we will say this is the time that we should have acted. So I am the one who will say it. Because if we don’t go we will have to live with the consequences for the rest of our lives. Could you handle that? I do not want that stain on my record. I want it to show that I did something about it. Right there and then. I saved the day. Others can shy away. I am a man. And a skilled hunter. The bloody rules are the bloody rules feck ‘em they are put there to be broken. They were made by boring folk that lead boring lives…..what could possibly go wrong?



    ‘ Do you know what?’



    ‘What?’



    ‘ I actually think that you are actually insane, soft in the head, do you believe all the garbage that falls out of yer mouth? I mean you just convinced yourself. Just like that. Using nothing logical you have invented a reason for us to get into god knows what kind of trouble and I am standing here a gasp, dumfounded. Speechless. Even though I am actually talking I am still speechless. I suggested fishing. Think about it. We love fishing. No one ever gets hurt lying on their backs with a line tied to their toes and the sun beating down on our faces. But instead you want to go to the most forbidden place I know. Where we have been warned that we shouldn’t since the time that we could walk. And meddle around then make it back and then what?……..Put it this way. To use your logic. This is the time. The exact time. That some one needed to say something that would stop you in your tracks. Something like Erruel don’t be such a feckin fool this is a stupid idea and it will bring a whole cartload of shite down on our heads. And one more thing. I will get to tell you that I told you so. So in a way I am glad.’



    ‘Glad what?’



    ‘Happy.’



    ‘Happy what?’



    ‘Happy that you thought of it and not me so when they threaten to beat us within an inch of our lives for being disobedient I can tell them that the whole thing was your idea, and because you are such a goofball, I had to go along and make sure that you did not get yourself killed or even worse!’



    ‘Worse?”



    ‘Yep!’



    ‘What could be worse?’



    Horses and pies and hard work were forgotten. Some where in the exchange sense had been made. The responsibility had been fairly a portioned and there was planning to do and supplies to find. They had found a use for the day. Under the gaze of The Brothers Erruel slapped his pal on the shoulder and marched ahead. They passed through the entrance of the mine. Immediately the atmosphere changed from the open air to the feeling of being closed in. Smells, sounds everything behaved differently under ground and they followed the path deeper. Light came from torches that were held in place by iron sconces driven deep into the cavern walls. They came to a heavy wooden door, it was latched. The supplies were kept inside. And Erruel being the bigger of the two leaned forward and grasped the handle. It twisted with barely a sound. Using his shoulder he pushed the door open. The hinges were well oiled and they did not squeak. The door banged against the wall. They froze. The sound echoed through the passage ways. The clanging of metals tools working hard continued in the distance. Confidence returned. All kinds of tools hung from pegs. Every available space was used up with shovels and picks and heavy hammers. Neat rows adorned the walls. Chains were coiled and ropes were stacked. There were metal spikes and wedges. Knives and blades of all sorts could be seen. It was a treasure trove in itself. They looked around pretending to be there on honest business. In the centre of the room a large brazier burned. There was no one else there. Coals glowed giving of heat. It brought a welcome respite. For the tunnels were always cold. They made a bundle of torches and Erruel hoisted them onto Oriin’s shoulders. They gathered coils of strong rope. Oriin grunted. He had to steady himself. There was a trickle of fresh clean water that disappeared through a crack in the floor Erruel filled their canteens with the cool liquid. He took a few gulps from his own, topped it up and replaced the cap. Oriin complained. The bundle was heavy. Erruel ignored him. Nothing was going to ruin his adventure. They had food. Their packed lunches would suffice. They checked and then rechecked everything. And with an air of excitement they set off. Erruel paused to close the door. The perfect crime. Noises from working miners got louder then as they travelled they petered away. Shadows danced behind them.



    Erruel and Oriin had made a career out of avoiding hard work. At first it had caused anger. But the more they avoided it, the less the elders complained having come to the conclusion that they were a lost cause. Besides twenty summers was not time enough. And for the most, the elders would nod, as they two returned from hunting with a scrawny rabbit in tow. The approval always swelled their hearts. Erruel and Oriin managed to convince themselves that without their hunting skills the village would eventually starve. Even Podder Moone. The greatest among them probably felt envious. A brace of fat fish was enough. They were hunters. Serious hunters. They would return home heroes.



    Leather creaked as they walked. It became an annoying. Oriin fidgeted. Underfoot, the dust was thick. They left clear footsteps behind them. After a while, Erruel held the torch out in front of him. Kneeling, he moved it over the ground. Nothing had disturbed it. He ran his fingers through. Thick dust covered the floor. Powdery and silken smooth. The pattern he made looked alien. In the flickering light Oriin looked over his comrades shoulder to get a better view. The torch momentarily blinded him. And fumes burned his lungs making him choke. He began a fit of coughing. Erruel stood up lifting the torch clear. They were dwarves and used to mining. Being underground. All the same the air was oppressive here. He could feel a great weight pressing down on him. It had never bothered him before. Their voices sounded dead. Freakish devils in the gloom as the torch cast flickering shapes. Oriin’s eyes were following him as he turned around. His friend looked more than uncomfortable. He was constantly looking over his shoulder.



    Oriin wiped his eyes with his sleeve. They were stinging. He blinked several times then checked over his shoulder again as his friend walked on ahead. There could be anything back there, he thought to himself. It was a wall of darkness. And it grew as his friends footsteps faded. He turned and broke into a trot. The packs he carried were heavy. The rope chaffed. There were knots forming. He prayed that his muscles would not cramp. Reaching out he placed a hand on Erruel’s shoulder. Erruel jumped with the fright.



    ‘What did you do that for? You half scared me to death. I was concentrating so hard?’



    ‘Oops, sorry, I stumbled these bloody things are heavy. When are you gonna take your turn?’



    Erruel did not reply. He pushed ahead. He had never been further than the fork in the passageway. They used to come here as children. Fool hardy they had been. They used to dare one another. But the fork was the furthest he had gone. He could hear Oriin’s footsteps. His friend was breathing hard. They came at last to the juncture. Judging by the dust no one had been here in a long time. There was a black hole to the left. In front of them the passageway continued on. Erruel went a little further. It appeared to level off. He turned around and walked back. Oriin hadn’t moved. His friends eyes were big and round. The flames of his torch burned bright. Erruel pointed to the hole.



    ‘ That way!’



    Matching Erruels step, two for every one, Oriin was determined not to be left behind.



    ‘ Can you imagine being stuck down here with no light? Can you? I think I have just found my worst nightmare. I do not think I could even find my way out. The ground levels out too much for too long. Even by touch it would be nearly impossible. Please let me live long enough to find other things to complain about. How about we at least stop for something to eat. I think I am just about to pass out. My stomach feels like my throats been cut.’



    Erruel did not slow. He guffawed. Oriin stuck out his tongue. After what seemed like hours they came to a stop. A massive wooden door blocked the passage. It too was covered by dust. Spider webs dripped from the hinges. Attached to the stone walls, the webs looked empty. Abandoned. Oriin wondered to himself, how spiders could survive down here. With no food. Everything looked so old. A single dried up husk covered in dust hung a foot or so from the floor. Oriin did not investigate. Erruel moved closer to the door. Even through the dust he could see that the metal work was elaborate. The were archaic designs. He took a step backward and looked up at the ceiling. There was a flat carved piece of stone. Something was written there. He could not make it out. The door was at least twice his own height. There were iron rings and they were bound by thick chains. There was a padlock. It was rusted. Metal studs pierced the heavy timbers. Under the dust Erruel could just make out a pattern. His fingers were trembling as he reached out. The wood felt cold to the touch. There was a heavy thud. Behind him Oriin groaned.



    ’That’s it. My backs gone. You have finally crippled me. Well done Erruel.’



    Erruel didn’t turn around. He fondled the chain. And then the lock.



    ‘I would say that is there for a reason. And I bet you it’s a humdinger.’



    ‘What are you on about? It’s just there to keep the door closed or to stop it banging in the wind or something. Most doors have locks. It doesn’t mean anything.’



    ‘ Ha ha ha Erruel , you are some piece of work I will grant you that. Not once have I ever heard you say it like it is. You twist everything do you know that. Everything. It all gets twisted inside your little mind and comes out yer arse for me to deal with! I bet that lock is there for a better reason than you are prepared to come up with. I’ll wager you.’



    The torch light flickered.



    Oriin stared at his friends back. The adventure was over. He had kind of enjoyed the journey knowing that. He would have preferred to have gone fishing any day over this nonsense. But what could he do? He was tempted to break out their lunch. They would have had a basket of fat fish to show for it by now.



    Erruel was pressing his forehead to the wood. He tugged at the chain. With a savage twist he smashed the lock against the door and turned around. Swearing out loud.



    ‘What did you expect. That it would somehow just fall apart. That it was waiting for you to whisper words of magic. It looks secure to me. Lets go before we are missed.’



    ‘Since when did you start caring about being missed, it never stopped us before. Did it?’



    ‘We never did anything this stupid before. Have we. I thought now might be as good a time as ever to start.’



    Erruel did not reply. He scratched his head. And walked back up to the door.



    ‘Erruel, listen to me. That door is closed for a reason. And it is locked for an even better one. Why else would a door be chained shut. And at the end of a tunnel too. If it had been a side door on the other hand, I think I could be persuaded, but not this. This is a door that blocks a whole passage. A wholly different type of door altogether. By my figuring that door needs to be left alone.’



    ‘What are you waffling on about? A door is a door. And in my reckoning, how important that door is, can only be determined by finding out what is behind it in the first place. So by finding out what is behind it, we can conclude that it was for sure important, in the first place, then we can act accordingly. But! And, I say a big but here. If we simply leave the door closed, than for sure the door has no meaning. No purpose. And who would make a useless door. This is why we must find out. I think its just old and its purpose has long since been forgotten, and as explorers, it is out duty to explore to the fullest conclusion so as to benefit others by our selfless acts.’



    ‘Hah! You are twisted. For sure. Okay smart arse. I have something to say. And it is a generalization about the nature of locked doors. While you delude yourself with rhetoric and fanciful ideas, may I just remind you, that this is one of those times we have all heard about. Make no mistake. This is one of those times when a sensible person speaks his mind so as not to be left out. We are standing at the very spot where things can either stay good, as they are now. Or they can get worse from here on. And I know what your are gonna say. That I am just a stick in the mud, and you are going to remind me of all the times in the past that I have ruined things for you. But if we, by some amazing grace, should happen to get through all of this in one piece, I want to be able to turn around and tell you right to your face, that I was right all along, and I told you so. And do you know that I am glad I am thinking this right now, so it stays fresh in your mind. You just cannot resist. Go on, admit it. Nothing good will come of it. I can feel it in my bones. It will be us that they will lock up. You just mark my words.’



    Erruel whirled about. His hair looked like it was on fire. In the light of the torch he looked like a demon come to life. His eyes burned and they had a devilish look to them. Slowly he raised himself to his full height and cleared his throat.



    ‘As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me. To determine the importance of the lock, we must take a look on the other side. Simple logic. Flawless. And if that proves uneventful then we shall do it your way and call it a day, but on the other hand……’



    His voice trailed off and he turned around.



    ‘Hand me the heavy hammer!’



    Oriin said nothing.



    ‘Hand me the hammer Oriin or are you stuffing your face already?’



    He whirled about.



    ‘I didn’t bring one. I thought you did.’



    Erruel forced a wry smile,



    ‘Okay so hand me the shovel.’



    ‘I did not bring that either.’



    ‘What? no shovel or hammer and probably no pick either. What kind of dwarf are you Oriin Tarrinforde, sometimes just sometimes.’



    ‘ I have the food, the rope, and the water. And I am carrying the spare torches and god bloody knows what else before this charade is over. What did you bring?’



    Erruel did not answer at first. He looked like he was about to get angry. But then all of a sudden, he smiled. It was too far to return to the tool shed, they would have to make do. With a smirk, he reached behind his shoulder and lifted his axe clear. The blades shone.



    ‘ From this point on we will become serious explorers. Now, stand back and give me some room.’



    Oriin had a sinking feeling. Trying to dissuade Erruel from doing something he has his heart set on was useless. Erruel was too pig headed. Nothing would stop him. And he did not feel like arguing. Their earlier exchange was still fresh on his mind. He had no wish to feel worse.



    ‘So its not a sneak in sneak out sort of campaign you are planning, I take it.’



    ‘Dwarves with out shovels and a pick, can you imagine, and us being miners and all, sure the shame of it has unhinged me.’ Erruel shouted whilst laughing out loud.



    His voice echoed. He made ready.



    ‘I hope you can handle a horse better than you can handle that axe Erruel!’



    Erruel said something under his breath. He raised the axe high over his head. He let out a cry and brought the blade crashing down. There was a flash. Sparks flew. The sound of metal upon metal made Oriin’s ears hurt. The echo lasted for an age. Half expecting to hear footsteps Oriin looked back over his shoulder. Erruel stood sneezing in a swirl of dust. He was waving his arms.



    ‘You shoudda cleaned that dust off first it would have made it a little easier for you.’ Oriin couldn’t contain himself and he giggled out loud.



    Erruel paid no attention. He leaned forward to inspect the lock. It was still intact. A big dent had crumpled the iron. The blade had struck it cleanly. He reached out and closed his fingers around it. It fell apart. He watched it drop to the ground. The chain dangled. As it knocked against the wood Erruel grabbed one end. He tugged it. Like a dead serpent it piled at his feet. Erruel slowly turned around. He face was beaming.