7. A Quarrel among Dwarfs

‘I think it was about here that we turned east for Dunelm’s house,’ said Simon.
‘No, it was further back, I tell you,’ said Drimwort. ‘What do you think, Katy?’
‘I just don’t know,’ said Katy. ‘It’s so dark now it’s impossible to tell.’
‘Well I say we’ve still got half a league or so to go,’ said Xanthus.
‘Does it matter?’ croaked Roken. ‘So long as we head north, we’re bound to come to the mountains.’
‘He’s probably right,’ said Drimwort reluctantly. ‘And, anyway, we’ll be able to get our bearings properly when daylight comes.’
So far as any of them could tell, they had been travelling west for about two hours, but darkness had now fallen and there were no landmarks to tell them where they were. Elyon’s hoof-prints had started them off in the right direction, but they had quickly petered out and from then on they had been left to make their own decisions. Everyone was now rather edgy because no one wanted to make another mistake like the last.
Through the night they travelled, keeping to valleys, skirting woods and crossing streams, while all the time holding their course to the north as best they could. Here Drimwort was of great help. He knew the stars — stars with lovely names like Fendandra and Chervil — and the constellations — the Shuttle, the Lion and the Hay Wain. After peering at Poldris — the north-star — through his spectacles for a moment, he would say, ‘We need to bear left a bit now,’ or ‘Bear right for a while — avoiding that wood has brought us too far west.’
When dawn began to break, they were climbing out of a narrow valley between two hills, so they paused at the top and waited for the light to spread across the sky ahead. As it did, they saw that Drimwort had led them well. (‘So rabbits do have their uses,’ said Xanthus wryly.) Straight ahead of them were great cliffs over which — some way to the west — cascaded a huge waterfall. Beyond the cliffs were more hills and forests, then the mountains themselves — much closer now. As the sun rose to the right of the travellers, they could make out dark ravines and precipices and falls of scree on the nearest range; but beyond that range they could see the tops of other even higher ranges, some covered in snow.
‘The waterfall is Thunder Force and it flows into Carmel Pool,’ said the unicorn. ‘The cliffs mark the start of the Northern Peak. We should be there by tonight, always assuming —’ he looked at the raven who was perched on a rock ‘— we’re not persuaded to turn aside again for square meals or feather beds!’
Roken cawed disdainfully and turned his back on them all. The others rather wished that Xanthus had not mentioned food, but no one said anything and the party pressed onwards.
For several leagues, their path lay across Bleak Moss — a vast stretch of open moorland containing nothing but heather, gorse and the occasional stunted blackthorn. High above them, skylarks sang in the clear sky and, now and again, they disturbed grouse which rose with a clatter and clucking from under their feet. They were not breathborn grouse, but, as no one had the means of capturing and killing them, they could not be turned into food. Then, at last, they began to drop into a valley and the heather gave way to grass. Not long afterwards, they heard the bubbling, gurgling song of a stream and soon they were all quenching their thirst in its cold, crystal-clear water. The children and Drimwort washed their faces and Roken had a complete bath, sending showers of sparkling droplets into the air as he fluttered around at the edge.
Following the course of the stream, they came to rowan trees among the gorse and broom, then to birch and beech. The stream became broader as they went further into the valley and soon it began to flow into pools and to form cataracts. Grey wagtails were feeding from stones and rocks, and they saw a dipper dart under the surface and emerge with an insect larva in its beak.
Eventually the stream flowed into a large pool around which were willows and alders. Mayflies flitted over its quiet surface and at its edges flowers grew in profusion — speedwells, forget-me-not, yellow flags, and purple loosestrife. Drimwort held onto the bole of a willow and leaned out over the water.
‘Look,’ he said. ‘Breakfast! Or is it lunch?’ He pointed below him and there, swimming lazily around under the shadows of the overhanging trees, were several large fish with scales of every colour of the rainbow.
‘Lymerlings,’ said Xanthus. ‘But how do you propose to catch them?’
Drimwort thought for a moment then took his knife from his belt and cut down an ash sapling. It was nearly as tall as he was.
‘One fishing rod,’ he said, trimming the sapling of its twigs and leaves. ‘Now we need a line.’
Xanthus was too busy gazing into the pool to pay the rabbit any attention. He had caught sight of his reflection in the still waters and was now quite lost in admiration of his own splendour — turning his head this way and that so as to let the sun catch his horn at different angles. Drimwort grinned and walked softly behind the children and the unicorn. Then he made a dart for the creature’s handsome tail, grasped one of its long hairs, and pulled. Xanthus leaped as if he had been stung.
‘Sorry,’ said Drimwort. ‘I really didn’t think you would even feel it.’ He held up the fine, silvery hair. ‘Anyway — one fishing line,’ he said.
‘Do that once more and you’ll be in the pool with the lymerlings,’ said Xanthus angrily. ‘Of all the liberties!’ He snorted, shook his head, and walked off in a huff.
Drimwort tied the hair to the sapling, then took a pin from the lapel of his jacket. He bent it into a hook and attached it to the other end of the hair. ‘Next, we need some dead mayflies as bait,’ he said. That was not a problem. Many were resting in the sun on the broad leaves by the water’s edge and even the children were able to catch them quite easily.
‘Now,’ said Drimwort, ‘You go and gather some dried grass and twigs for kindling — oh, and some sticks, of course — while I see what I can do with these. Not that I’m making any promises, mind. I am a poet, you remember — not a fisherman. But I’ll see what I can do —’
Katy and Simon did as they were told and, when they returned, Drimwort was already arranging some flat stones into a circle. Beside him, on the grass, lay three large fat lymerlings, beautifully gutted and cleaned.
‘Oh, well done!’ cried the children. ‘You are clever!’
‘Do you really think so?’ said Drimwort looking pleased. ‘It was nothing really. They practically jumped onto the hook.’ He took the dry grass and twigs and arranged them inside the circle of stones, then he took off his spectacles and used the lenses to focus the sun’s rays on the tinder. Soon there was a wisp of smoke, then a flame, then a fire. ‘Quickly! Pile on the wood,’ said the rabbit. Then he arranged the fish on the stones.
Before long, they were cooked and, using large dock leaves as plates, the children and Drimwort peeled away the blackened skin and tucked into the sweet, white flesh beneath.
‘It’s wonderful!’ said Katy. ‘I’ve never had fish like these.’
‘Of course you haven’t,’ said Drimwort. ‘They’re the fish of kings! They’re eaten — so I’m told — at the great feasts in Arwendal Keep. But, until Queen Emeline is back on the throne, there’s no one there to eat them; so there’s no harm in our having them for breakfast.’ He licked his paws. ‘Now, anyone for dessert?’ He got to his feet and led the children to a grassy bank a little further downstream. ‘Wild strawberries,’ he said. ‘Sorry there’s no cream to go with them!’ But neither cream nor sugar was needed. The strawberries were as ripe and sweet as could be and the children ate until they could eat no more.
Finally, Katy lay back on the bank and closed her eyes. ‘Thank you, Elyon,’ she said softly.
Simon looked at her curiously and Katy felt his glance. She opened her eyes again.
‘He said he would provide for us, and he has,’ she said. ‘And I can’t say I’ve ever had a nicer breakfast. Can you?’
‘No,’ said Simon. ‘It was brilliant.’
A little way upstream, Xanthus emerged from the trees, his dignity restored, and ambled over to them.
‘Resting again,’ he said. ‘Do you intend to stay here all day? We’ve many leagues to cover before nightfall, you know.’
‘You’re right,’ said Simon with a sigh. ‘We must get on, I suppose. But we’ll walk for a while, if that’s all right by you.’ And so they set off again, still heading north, towards the mountains.
As the day wore on, the going became more difficult and it became harder to plot any kind of course. It had been easy to head for the mountains when the mountains were still a long way off, but, now that the first of the great ranges was almost in front of them, they none of them knew which mountain in particular they ought to be aiming for.
‘One step at a time,’ said Drimwort. ‘We’ve got to get beyond those cliffs before we can do anything else, and the only way we’re going to manage that is by heading over there.’ He pointed slightly to the east. ‘Can you see? There’s a gorge of some kind. Everywhere else the cliffs are sheer. We’d have to leave Xanthus behind and crawl up like flies!’
‘What’s bothering me,’ said Simon, ‘is how do we know when and where to start looking for Trumblegast — even when we get to the mountains?’
‘That’s been bothering me too,’ said the unicorn. ‘But I’ve decided we must simply press on and trust to Elyon. I have a feeling we shall be led to Trumblegast when the time comes.’
That evening, just as the light began to fail, the travellers found themselves entering the narrow gorge they had been making for throughout the afternoon. Simon and Katy (who had for some time been riding Xanthus) again dismounted. They somehow felt more secure with their feet firmly on the ground in that forbidding, hostile place. Bats flitted above them and dark cliffs reared up on either side, almost shutting out the sky. The path before them was strewn with fallen boulders. Nothing grew there and they could hear no sound save that of Xanthus as his hooves clattered upon the stones and flints underfoot.
Drimwort glanced about him uneasily. ‘Snipers and snares,’ he said. ‘It’s a perfect place for an ambush!’
‘Oh, don’t,’ said Katy, and she reached for Simon’s hand.
‘You’re right, though,’ said Xanthus grimly. ‘The sooner we’re through here the better.’
They moved up the gorge as quickly as they could, but the going was far from easy. The last traces of daylight soon vanished and they could see their way only by the faint light which reached them from the waning moon high above.
After about an hour, Xanthus (who was leading the way) stopped suddenly and the others heard his sharp intake of breath.
‘Well,’ he said. ‘Here’s something we could have done without. There’s been a rock-fall by the look of it. The path is completely blocked!’
Drimwort and the children rushed forward to see for themselves. And it was true: the gorge was blocked from one side to the other with huge boulders.
‘It’s a solid wall of rocks,’ said Simon. ‘There’s no way round it.’
‘Oh yes, there is,’ said a voice from up above. ‘But only for them as knows it.’
A light shone out suddenly and there, on the top of the wall, stood a bandy-legged dwarf. He held a cudgel in one hand and, in the other, a dark lantern which he had just opened. His nose and chin were long and pointed, and his hair hung in matted, greasy locks about his shoulders.
‘I’ll be ’appy to let you frough,’ he said. ‘When you’ve paid the toll.’
‘And h— h— how much is the toll?’ stammered Drimwort.
‘It all depends ’ow much you’ve got,’ said a voice from behind them.
They swung round and the shutters clicked back on more dark lanterns. Twenty armed dwarfs of all shapes and sizes were cutting off their retreat. These were not friendly, woodland dwarfs like those who live in the caverns deep below Kinder Chase but hard, cruel, mountain dwarfs.
‘We take most fings,’ continued the dwarf who had spoken. ‘Kyarmian shekels, Shalanorn guineas, Galdanian doubloons. And, of course, any kind of jewels or precious stones —’
Katy gave a little gasp as she suddenly remembered what was concealed in the pocket of her jeans.
‘What is it, milady?’ asked the dwarf. ‘Got some Shalanorn guineas, ’ave you?’
‘No,’ said Katy. ‘I’ve no money at all. I — I just thought I saw a bat.’
‘Bats, is it?’ said the dwarf with a mirthless laugh. ‘Plen’y of bats round ’ere — nasty blood-sucking fings. You’ll just ’ave to get used to them. Now, ’ow about the rest of you? Come on! What ’ave you got?’
‘We’ve got nothing,’ said Drimwort. ‘No money, no gems — nothing.’
‘Oh dear, oh dear. That is a pity,’ sneered the dwarf. ‘Nofink to pay the toll wiv! Well — no toll, no way frough, I’m afraid!’ He looked up at the dwarf on the wall. ‘What shall we do wiv ’em, Skoonfoot?’
‘What we usually do,’ said the dwarf on the wall. ‘Put ’em to work in the mines. They’ll ’ave to earn their toll — if they last out long enough to spend it!’ He sniggered. ‘Not many do!’ Then he looked at Xanthus. ‘The ’orse’ll come in useful,’ he said. ‘The donkey’s knackered. We can do wiv somefink strong to pull the carts.’
Xanthus threw back his head and gave a great whinny. ‘Never,’ he cried. ‘No descendant of the great Zocantus will ever pull a cart.’ But, before he had even finished speaking, the dwarfs were in among his legs with ropes and, though he kicked out in all directions, they had him hobbled in an instant.
‘Alfensteen! Take ’im away,’ shouted Skoonfoot. ‘An’ bind the rest of ’em.’
Immediately, the children and Drimwort were seized and their hands were tied behind their backs. Now, all were prisoners — except for Roken who had vanished into the darkness at the first sign of trouble.
Katy was dumb with horror. She was sure the gem in her pocket was meant for now; and all she was waiting for was someone to say ‘Let stone return to stone’ so that she could bring it out and pay the toll demanded by the dwarfs. But no one was saying anything, and now they were all being dragged off to work in their mines. Did it matter that the words had not been said? Should she not use the stone anyway? ‘I must,’ she thought. ‘I must!’ Then — as clearly as if they were being spoken out loud — she heard again, in her mind, the words of Estria the spider: ‘However right it might seem to do otherwise, neither reveal it nor use it until you hear the cry, "Let stone return to stone". For, on that stone and on what you do with it hangs the fate of all Shalanor.’ She gave a little sob as a cross-eyed dwarf prodded her viciously in the back and told her to keep moving. ‘Oh, Elyon,’ she whispered. ‘Please help us. Please!’ But there was no answer, and she and the others were herded back down the gorge a little way and through a large crevice into the towering wall of rock.
The crevice proved to be the start of a natural tunnel which went into the cliff for some way before forking right and left. The dwarfs pushed their prisoners down the left-hand branch and eventually it opened out into a large cavern. It was lit by a single candle set on a big stone slab near the far end and was clearly the dwarfs’ living quarters. There were straw palliasses around the walls with clothes strewn on some of them just where they had been thrown. Platters and tankards littered the floor. On the stone slab, next to the candle, was a large side of ham, some loaves of bread and a great pitcher.
The dwarfs threw the rabbit and the children onto a heap of dirty straw which was piled at the back of the cave, behind the stone slab. Then they took their knives from their belts (which gave Drimwort and the children a nasty turn) and prepared to eat. Each carved for himself a slice of ham and chunk of bread, and each filled his tankard with ale from the pitcher. When they were done, they formed a circle on the floor in the middle of the cave and began their supper. As they ate and drank, Skoonfoot gave them their instructions for the morrow.
‘Gallbluck,’ he said. ‘You go wiv Ramskit an’ Quoon to the lower workings — an’ take the rabbit wiv you. If ’e gives you any trouble, you can ’ave ’im for dinner!’ At this, there was general laughter.
‘Blurg — You take Alfensteen an’ Wongrid and ’er ladyship to the upper workings. Spindlespick — You an’ Bilfur can bring the boy an’ join me on this level. We’ll ’ave the ’orse ’ere, too.’
‘We could do wiv the ’orse on the lower level,’ said the cross-eyed dwarf who had prodded Katy in the back. He took a swig from his tankard, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and belched loudly.
‘Not as much as we could do wiv ’im on the upper level,’ said a fat dwarf with a scar which ran right across his face.
‘I’ve told you,’ said Skoonfoot. ‘We’re ’aving ’im on this level. You, Quoon, can ’ave ’im the day after tomorrow. Blurg can ’ave ’im the day after that.’
‘Why should Quoon ’ave ’im before me?’ demanded the fat dwarf with the scar.
‘’Cause we’ve more work to get frough than you,’ said the cross-eyed dwarf.
‘More work!’ said Blurg. ‘Don’t make me laugh! You lot don’t know what work is down there! You ought to join us in the upper workings, then you’d find out what work is!’
‘The upper levels are nothing but a ruddy ’oliday camp,’ said Ramskit.
As Katy listened to the bickering going on between the dwarfs, she suddenly felt Simon’s hands touching hers. He had swivelled around slightly so that they were now almost back to back.
‘I’m going to see if I can untie you,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t try to watch me.’ He fiddled around with her knots for some time and then she felt the rope around her wrists go slack. ‘Done it!’ he hissed. ‘Now try to unfasten mine, but keep your hands behind you as if they’re still tied up.’
It took Katy longer to unfasten Simon’s wrists than it had taken him to unfasten hers, but at last she managed it. Then Simon edged his way behind Drimwort and set him free, too.
‘What do we do now?’ whispered Katy.
‘Leave it to me,’ said Drimwort, rising, as usual, to the challenge of the situation. ‘I have an idea.’ Getting as close to the stone slab as he could without attracting attention, he took a deep breath then blew with all his might at the candle. It flickered for a moment and then went out.
For a moment there was silence then all the dwarfs started shouting at once.
‘Get the tinder-box!’ cried one.
‘Where’s the dratted candle?’ said another.
‘Stop shoving, whoever you are,’ said a third. ‘You’ve just knocked my beer over!’
‘Get your foot off my ’and, will you?’ yelled a fourth.
‘Ouch!’ said a fifth. ‘That’s my face you’re sticking your elbow in!’
As soon as he had blown out the candle, Drimwort had disappeared, but now he was back again. When the candle was re-lit (as it soon was), he, like Simon and Katy, was sitting in the straw; and his hands, like theirs, were behind his back, just as before. Skoonfoot gave them a long, hard look, then returned to the circle.
‘Now,’ he said. ‘What were you bellyaching about when the candle blew out, Ramskit?’
‘Never mind about that now,’ said Ramskit. ‘What I want to know is — who’s nicked my ’am?’
‘Nobody’s nicked your ’am,’ said Skoonfoot. ‘You must ’ave eaten it.’
‘I ’adn’t even started it,’ said Ramskit. He looked around the circle at the other platters. ‘Look!’ he said. ‘’E’s got it!’ He pointed accusingly at Blurg who had three slices of ham on his plate.
Drimwort smiled and winked at Katy and Simon.
‘’E’s got mine as well!’ cried Gallbluck.
‘I don’t know ’ow they got there,’ said Blurg. ‘I didn’t take ’em.’
‘Oh, no?’ said Ramskit with a snarl. ‘Well, I’ll ’ave it back —’
‘So will I —’ said Gallbluck.
They both leaped to their feet and made a dive for Blurg’s platter, but collided with each other before they reached it and fell into Wongrid’s lap. Wongrid was taking a draught of ale at the time. He began choking and hit out at Ramskit. Ramskit ducked and the blow fell on Blurg. Blurg leaped up, tripped over Gallbluck and cannoned into Alfensteen. Soon, the dwarfs were one heaving, cursing, fighting mass of bodies. Then once more Drimwort blew out the candle.
‘Now’s our chance,’ he whispered. ‘Keep to the side of the cave and run for it!’