The Valley Of The Dwarfs - 6. Chapter 6

Once the sun overcame the shadow of the valley’s east side mountain, the dawn bloomed with a burst of fairytale exuberance. Bees buzzed around all species of meadow flowers, songbirds announced their territories, and little furry animals scurried along paths hidden in the turf searching for their morning repast.

Under the looming presence of the Schneemann, in the loft of the farmer’s chalet Gunther dreamt of running through those meadows chasing rabbits, wrens, and honeybees as the sun warmed his naked skin. His eyes flashed open allowing the dimly lit room to offer little perception other than a bearded face kissing his neck, strong hairy arms holding him tight against an equally hairy torso, hairy legs entwined with his, and a familiar thrusting deep within.

“Hush, go back to your dream,” a voice whispered in his ear. “It is not the dawn.”

And, Gunther released all resistance and sank back into deep slumber.

“Hey! Sleepy head! Time to hit the dawn,” a voice startled Gunther to a fuzzy awareness. Looking up he saw Dieter and Mark already dressed for the day.

“Did you two sleep well?” Gunther asked. “I certainly heard a lot of whispering from your end of the room.”

“Michael was curious, you know how little boys are,” Dieter said. “Come on, everyone is breaking their fast. Don’t you smell the bacon?”

Gunther breathed in and absorbed the heady aroma of morning on a healthy farm. Yes, he could smell the bacon and eggs, fruit preserves, fresh bread, and what was that other smell? It was vaguely familiar as something from his distant past, which wasn’t too distant considering he wasn’t yet thirty.

“There are dwarfs all around us, Emerane is baking dwarf muffins,” Mark said.

“That’s what I smell,” Gunther said. “My mother made those when I was a child. No, wait, how could she? There were dwarfs in my house when I was a child!”

“Hurry up!” Dieter exclaimed.

“Put some clothes on,” Mark said.

“What were you and Aphrodisios doing?” Dieter asked.

“Yeah, what were you doing?” Mark asked. “Or, rather, what was he doing to you?”

Then it wasn’t a dream. With a few spare fingers hidden by thick quilts, Gunther felt behind him, down where he sensed a little too much moisture. Bringing those fingers to his nose, the aroma of sex filled his nostrils. So, it hadn’t been a dream.

“Was he having sex with you?” Dieter asked.

“He’s my satyr,” Gunther said by way of an explanation he didn’t understand himself.

“I’ve heard they caused revelry,” Mark said, “but I didn’t hear any singing or the pipes.”

No, thought Gunther, there was no singing or pipes.

“Is there a washcloth handy?” Gunther asked.

“What was it like?” Dieter asked.

“He’s a satyr,” Gunther said. “It was unlike anything in the world.”

“Didn’t it hurt?” Mark asked as he handed Gunther a soggy washcloth.

“No, I was asleep, mostly,” Gunther said.

“Are you a bottom?” Dieter asked.

“A what!” Gunther exclaimed.

“Hush, Pap will hear,” Mark said.

“You know, a man who takes it up the ass,” Dieter whispered.

“No, I am not a bottom,” Gunther said. “That is not to say I haven’t gone that way on occasion.”

“Dieter and I almost did each other last summer before I died,” Mark said.

“I was up here on an errand for my Pap and had to stay the night,” Dieter said. “We were just fooling around, you know?”

“You’re boys, boys do things, sometimes,” Gunther said.

“We like each other,” Mark said.

“So close to the dwarfs?” Gunther asked as he dried himself and began to dress.

“Yes, it was dangerous,” Mark said. “Their adit is attached. You enter through the barn. If I hadn’t died, Dieter and I were planning to go off together with merchants to find our place in the world. I don’t know if I could trust a merchant, now.”

“You should never trust merchants,” Gunther said. “They’re into everything for just money. More than likely, they’d have sold the two of you for something you’d rather not do. Come on, I’m hungry.”

Gunther felt unnerved talking to the ghost boy, as it almost seemed he was real. Yet, the boy was mostly transparent and if the light was wrong, you couldn’t see him at all, but you could touch him and feel his touch. He was there and not there at the same time, much as Aphrodisios was there and not there.

Aphrodisios! Oh, how that name chimed in his ears. Was this morning a onetime event or could he look forward to many more couplings, with the satyr dominating him as was right. He felt arousal and had to quickly turn his mind to an image of his mother being mounted by an ass to diminish its effect. His mother and the ass was his favorite erection-destroying image. There were others, but that was the surest one to work.

* * * * * * *

Down in the valley, Albrecht and five men-at-arms stood outside the farmer’s chalet they acquired. He was in a foul mood as both Omar and Gunther were missing and, as far as he was concerned, guilty of stealing from the money chest. It didn’t matter that he’d sent Gunther to seduce the priest. Gunther hadn’t come back and that was suspicious as hell. If he found either of them, they were going to become up close and personal with his blade. But, he had other things to attend to, such as the eviction of the farmer and his children.

“Sergeant, do your duty,” Albrecht said loudly. Loud enough, he hoped, for the farmer to hear.

“Yes, sir,” the sergeant said with a salute. “Okay, men, let’s get them out of there.”

Albrecht stayed outside with one of the drovers who brought three asses, which is what Albrecht figured the farmer could use to transport his family to wherever it was they were going. He had been planning to sell the asses to the farmer, but thought it might look better if he just gave them away. It wasn’t as if they were going to need that many asses once they’d established themselves. Ernesto would take a couple when he left, hopefully never to return, to distribute the flyers and posters. The rest he could sell to the locals, who he was certain ate asses all the time.

“I say, is there a problem?” a mousy voice asked.

Albrecht turned around and saw five villagers standing behind a short, rotund man with a long gray beard and sad brown eyes who was wearing a billowy black cap with a red plume stuck in the side. The fellow’s robe was lined with gold threads.

“And, you are?” Albrecht asked.

“I am the Burgher,” the man said. “Someone saw your men-at-arms and alerted me to the possibility of a problem.”

“You’re standing on my property,” Albrecht said coldly. “I’d appreciate it if you went back across the bridge to your little village. This is of no concern of yours.”

“Sir?” the sergeant called out from a window above. “The farmer says the lease stipulates he has at least a week to vacate.”

“The lease is in a foreign language I can’t read,” Albrecht said. “He’ll have to provide a translated copy within the hour or you’ll have to remove him bodily from our residence.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll tell him,” the sergeant said before closing the window.

“The lease can’t be translated it’s in Dwarf runes,” the Burgher offered.

“I told you to go away,” Albrecht hissed. “Do I have to call some of my men-at-arms and have you removed?”

“No, as it is obvious you haven’t the slightest clue as to what occurs in this valley,” the Burgher said. “I’ll go in and help Pierre and his children leave the chalet. Are you providing those asses?”

“I was going to sell them to him,” Albrecht said, “but I’ve decided to be gracious and give them.”

“Very big of you,” the Burgher said. “Gentlemen, if you will assist, we should be able to get Pierre and the children safely into the village before the zenith.”

“Wait, who are these men?” Albrecht asked. “You can’t take them inside my chalet without my permission.”

“Do you want Pierre, the children, and their belongings out today?” the Burgher asked.

“Yes and I have men-at-arms to ensure that happens,” Albrecht said.

“These are Pierre’s friends, it’ll go a lot easier with them assisting,” the Burgher said. “Come along gentlemen.”

“Stop!” Albrecht said, drawing his sword and brandishing it at the Burgher.

A bolt from a crossbow struck the turf a finger’s breadth from Albrecht’s left foot.

“Put the sword away or the next one pierces your heart,” the Burgher said.

Anger coursed through Albrecht, but he sheathed his sword and watched the Burgher and his assistants hurry into the chalet. He looked over at the village knowing somewhere in that jumble of chalets there was at least one, probably more, crossbows aimed at him. Little did they know what was in store for them once he took over. The Burgher would be the first to lose his head.

* * * * * * *

“As I see it, you need a Hero,” Aphrodisios said to the assembled dwarfs. They were in an empty corral beside the chalet; the dwarfs and humans standing in the muck, with the satyr sitting on the top rail.

Gunther nodded his head to this. It was the most practical answer he’d heard all morning. The dwarfs had been all in favor of going down to the camp en masse and cleaving every human in sight. When he said there were men-at-arms and some of them might die; they said, yes, that was always a possibility in war. He realized, then, that this was a war council.

Then he told them that it was only Albrecht that was the problem. Ernesto, Paolo, and Carlo were innocents compared to their leader. It was then that the nymphs offered their observations of the camp.

Since Gunther didn’t understand enough nymph-speak, Aphrodisios translated for him. Their narrative started bad and got worse. Albrecht owned Omar and used the eunuch for sex. The dwarfs practically hissed in unison, as was their response to this form of human sex. Ernesto sought pain to drive his sexual need. The dwarfs hissed at this, too. Paolo and Carlo were lovers. The dwarfs hissed, but it was different. Aphrodisios said that because the men were lovers their sex act, while an abomination in the sight of dwarfs, might be forgiven if the men departed the valley forthwith. Carlo understood nymph-speak enough to be a problem.

It was the final bit of information that sealed the camps’ fate. Albrecht murdered a shepherd for no reason. The dwarfs passed, unanimously, an edict of death upon Albrecht’s head. He was not to be cleaved, though. He would not be killed outright, unless it happened in battle. All efforts would be made to capture him alive. He was to suffer the fate of all murderers of innocents. Albrecht was to spend the last of his days starving to death in the deepest, darkest hole in the nearest dwarf mine. If need be, they’d dig one for him. As luck would have it, though, there was a pit directly under the Schneeman.

“Wouldn’t a Hero kill Albrecht?” Gunther asked.

Everyone looked at him. Oh, oh, I’m being impolite, again, he thought, but they, including Aphrodisios, looked at him not with reproach. They were looking at him as if they imagined him wearing a suit of armor.

“Oh, no, no, I’m an accountant, I’m not a hero,” Gunther said.

“Capital H Hero, Gunther,” Aphrodisios said. “You’ve got to get it right if you’re going to wear the suit, which you are. I nominate Gunther of Dreithalen to be our Hero and to acquire all of the privileges and rewards of that position.”

“Here! Here!” everyone in attendance responded.

Gunther looked around him, everyone was all smiles.

“Gunther of Dreithalen, do you accept our acclaim?” Aphrodisios asked.

“Yes, Gunther, accept our offer,” Gran the dwarf said.

“I know I’m going to regret this, but yes,” Gunther said as an image of Albrecht’s sword slicing him in two came to mind.

“Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!” the crowd cheered.

“Don’t worry boy,” Aphrodisios said, suddenly appearing at his side. “This is going to go a lot easier than you think.”

“Last night, or rather this morning,” Gunther started.

“Not now, more of that later,” Aphrodisios said. “We must be off. Hold my hand. Next stop, the Land of Heroes.”

There was a shiver in the air as if it took on the thick substance of water. There was warmth, then cold, then warmth, again. All through it, the air quavered with their passage until Gunther saw that they were standing at the brink of a cliff of incalculable height. Across from them mist shrouded what might be a mountain range, while looking down all he could see were, what appeared to be large carrion birds soaring on currents of air.

“What is this place?” Gunther asked.

“The Land of Heroes, or rather, the gate to the Land of Heroes,” Aphrodisios said. “We must descend. Keep close to the mountain as the birds will try to pluck you off the path so that you fall to your death on the rocks below.”

“I suppose you’re safe because you’re a satyr,” Gunther said.

“Immortality has its perks,” Aphrodisios said as he stepped off the edge onto a steep path. “Come on, you can’t be a hero unless you pass the first test.”

Gunther noticed a pile of stones supposedly placed there for a purpose. He picked up a few and put them in his pockets. Looking down, he could see some of the birds begin to gain height. They spiraled around and around and up and up they rose until they passed his level on the path and circled above him.

Suddenly, one pulled in its wings and dove toward him. He watched its approach and took a stone out of his pocket. The huge bird was heading directly at him with its eyes focused on Gunther’s body. He passed the rock to his right hand, pulled his arm back, stared at the bird, and judging the distance between them to be just right, threw the stone hitting the bird on its head, just where the beak came out of the skin. It careened away with a scream and plummeted into the limitless canyon below.

Another broke from the group above and began its dive. As before, he watched the bird carefully and put a stone in his right hand, only this time he didn’t ready the throw. At the last moment, the bird threw out its wings and with talons bared screamed toward Gunther. He stood his ground staring up at the bird and then threw the stone. It flew straight and struck the bird in its throat. He ducked and then hurried further down the path, hearing the bird smash into the mountain.

Ever watchful, Gunther hurried to catch up to Aphrodisios. Just as he was about to come within an arm’s length, he saw another bird of prey peel off and begin its descent. He stared at the bird for a moment and then looked ahead down the path. No more than a few paces ahead a rock jutted out from the mountain. He hurried there, turned with a rock in his hand, and stared up at the bird diving toward him. At the right time, he threw. Only this time the throw was high. The bird diverted its eyes for a moment to watch the rock fly over, while Gunther slipped around the boulder and listened to the loud thud of the bird crashing into the place where its intended victim formerly stood. He looked around the see the bird staggering on uncertain feet. He kicked it over the ledge.

“Does this go on until we reach the bottom?” Gunther asked.

“We’re not going to the bottom,” Aphrodisios said. “And, they’re not stupid birds. Those aloft have seen three of their number fail in three different ways. Plus, you had no mercy on the last. That counts for something in their world, but just to make certain, keep a close watch on your back.”

After a short time, they came to a dark narrow passage in the wall of the mountain. Gunther followed Aphrodisios and looked back in time to see another bird plummeting toward him. He hurried on.

The cave was filled with phosphorescence that provided enough light to see the path before them, but Aphrodisios seemed to know where he was going. After a short time, though, he stopped and waited for Gunther to catch up.

“We’re at a fork in the path, which way does a Hero choose?” Aphrodisios asked.

“A Hero always takes the right path,” Gunther said.

“What if danger lies that way?” Aphrodisios asked.

“It would be seen as a test for the Hero,” Gunther said.

“Then, to the right we’ll go, and I hope you’re right about this,” Aphrodisios said.

“I believe you’ve passed this way before,” Gunther said. “If it is the wrong choice, you’ll have to go back and pick a new Hero. I nominate Dieter or Mark, the ghost.”

“They are too young to be Heroes,” Aphrodisios said.

“No, you don’t want to pass the task off to another satyr,” Gunther said.

“How do you know I am not either of theirs?” Aphrodisios asked.

“I know, why is not of your concern,” Gunther said. “Your only concern now is to get me to where we are going or to the next test of my worthiness to be a Hero.”

Bright light ahead heralded an opening and Gunther hoped it was the exit of the cave. He wasn’t disappointed because at the exit there was an abundance of sparkling green turf, a sweet aroma of spring flowers, and in the distance what sounded like the clashing of arms.

“Behold, the Land of Heroes,” Aphrodisios said.

“What is this place?” Gunther asked as there wasn’t much to be seen except a lot of trees shading a lot of turf.

“If we had time, which we don’t, I would’ve brought you here for proper instruction, so we’ll have to do with armor and a magic sword,” Aphrodisios said. “Come, let me present you to the king.”