Chapter VI:
Beast and Iron
Ant-Antfister
Ereg's sons were certainly surprised when their father refused to flee from the raging Gargantan. Twenty of the creatures lay dead upon the ground before the dwarves were given a respite from their battle. Naj had spent all his quarrels, and was now plucking them from the dead bodies and saving those that could be used again. In the end he was left with only twenty-three that could be used. San had used all but three of his darts, and every one of those he had thrown were now lost to him. Jah threw and regathered all of his javelins, though one of them now had a broken point. He kept it nonetheless, as even a broken weapon in the hands of a dwarf is a deadly tool. He had lost three darts, much to his frustration.
As the others scoured the clearing for their projectiles, Haf and Fas leaned against one of the Gargantan bodies. Haf rested his enormous shield in front of him and Fas held his great axe across his lap. Neither of them had any need to dig through the grass and dirt for pins. Ereg soon joined them where they rested. He had thrown one dart, but he regained it without much difficulty, plucking it from the throat of a Gargantan.
'Adapnans run't away,' Haf laughed, shaking his head. He was obviously not concerned with the safety of the elves.
'They run't fast as Jee!' Fas said, the last word spoken in such a high pitch (to indicate that he spoke of the wind) that the others, even Ereg, were forced to chuckle. They certainly had fled quickly, especially Zefru. That slim elf was clever to be sure, Ereg thought, but he was not to be trusted.
'We l'find them?' San asked, when he had given up on finding the rest of his darts. He came over to the others and knelt next to Ereg. His eyes seemed to say that he would do whatever his father decided, and that he would be happy whatever that happened to be.
Fas would also do as Ereg commanded, but it was clear from his expression that he would not do so without hating every moment of it if it meant they would once more be babysitting the elves. At times Fas felt that he was the only one who remembered that this whole ordeal had begun with a kidnapping.
'Mm,' Ereg said, shaking his head. 'First we l'go t' Antfister.'
He almost laughed as his three sons tilted their heads questioningly almost in perfect unison. 'We l'go Ant-Antfister!'
The others smiled. It is rare for dwarves to make jokes with words, and when it is done right, it must be acknowledged at least with a smile. If it is done poorly someone could very well end up dead. But Ereg had duplicated the word 'Against' to indicate that their next course would not be to seek out the lost elves, but rather to make some kind of move against Antfister, which was now hoping to draw Fist into a war with Turg. There was perhaps nothing he could do to prevent what would come, but he could at least delay the war for a time.
When the dwarves had finished their preparations, which included a certain amount of despoiling of the carcasses - there was no use slaying a Gargantan if you took no trophy from the conflict - they made their way due west, following the setting sun. The Gargantan were still excited and agitated, so they stayed far from them if they could help it. They made their camp in a small enclosure where it would be impossible for a Gargantan to reach them - at least, without losing its arm in the process. They slept soundly until dawn, and, by the early afternoon they came to the steep slope that Zefru had discovered the day before. There they beheld hundreds of the great beasts, foraging and prowling through the woods.
Ereg pointed and nudged Haf, 'See? Erexmid say't we should eat greens. Look at them!' Dwarves did not usually quarrel amongst their own kin. Discipline was swift, certain and effective among the people of Sparka, and dwarf children learned quickly to obey. But there was something like a controversy within Ereg's household regarding the eating of vegetables. His wife, Erexmid, had long insisted that green foods would give their consumer the strength of Jee (spoken in a low tone of course). Ereg and his six sons, however, insisted that strength truly came by means of animal flesh. There beneath them stomped the proof of their own error. 'We l'keep this secret,' Ereg said with a smile.
They filed down into the valley one after the other, each carefully choosing their steps to avoid making any noise. For the next ten days they traveled west, winding through the trees in a tight line, their weapons at the ready and their eyes sharply focused. Twice they were forced to ambush a Gargantan, as they saw no other way to pass the creature without drawing its attention. A well-aimed bolt from Naj's crossbow and a few quick blows from Fas' axe were enough to make an end of the beasts. On the first day of Fuehas they found themselves passing from the dense jungle to a wide grassland dotted here and there with tall trees.
'Past Rugar lies Antfister,' Ereg explained as they set up their camp for the night along the Rugar river's eastern bank. 'They ally't now with Fist; they l'set themselves against Turg.'
This was the first time he had spoken openly of what he had heard in the Scar. 'If Turg is attacked by t' Five and Fist together, they l'call Sparka for aid.'
He did not need to explain the consequences of this to his sons, who now looked at him with great concern. 'Also,' he continued, 'In Fist they build't iron ones.'
This last detail seemed to greatly affect the others, who now looked to Ereg with as close to a look of fear as dwarves could manage. 'Golems,' Naj said in amazement.
'What l'we do?' Fas asked, managing to remain more calm than his brothers.
'We l'slay the iron ones here,' his father replied, pointing at the ground beneath his feet. The others looked at him with surprise. 'We have weapons greater than iron.'
Undappa
For three weeks they labored, constructing a bridge to span the Rugar River. Ereg's sons felled trees in GarBrusht while he and Naj kept a careful watch over the Gargantan. Only once, however, did the dwarves need to stop their work to drive one of the monsters away. They were now near the Rugar, and the creatures preferred to eat the fruit and leaves from Aradra trees, which did not thrive in that area. When the bridge was completed, Ereg sent Fas and Haf into the jungle to gather Aradra fruit by the bundle, until they had enough it seemed to feed the whole jungle.
When those preparations were complete, the dwarves traveled north along the river until they came to the village of Undappa. One by one they climbed over the village gates and stole through the fields to the meeting house, which alone was built of stone. They lit the roof on fire and slew all the animals that were tied up in its yard. When the guardians arrived Haf and Fas drove them away, their great weapons being more than they had expected to find when responding to reports of a fire.
The dwarves fled the village, shouting curses and threats in the name of Fist, and setting fire to everything they passed. They did not return to their former encampment, however, but rather found a new place to hide away. In this way they avoided open conflict, but repeatedly vexed the nearby villages with fires and thefts, until the dwarves of that region were forced to come together in great force against them. Near the end of Fuehas, a small band of dwarves marched from Undappa, scouring every hole on the west bank of the Rugar River, and searching as far as five leagues to the west, hoping by this means to trap and destroy the brigands. But when word of this force reached Ereg's ears - he had sent Naj to spy upon their movements - he ordered his sons to smash the Adadra fruit and to draw the attention of the Gargantan. One thing he had made note of while they were traveling the GarBrusht, was that the smell of a broken fruit drew the Gargantan as surely as a cry of battle. Thus, even as the dwarves of Undappa and its neighboring villages arrived at the place where the Sparkans had built their bridge, the Gargantan, also found it, and crossed to reach the place where the sweet smell of the Adadra fruit originated.
The beasts, thinking the dwarves meant to come between them and their food, fell into a rage, and charged them with all the aggression for which they are famed, and which I have already described.
These dwarves, not being trained warriors, were scattered before them,
and many of them fell prey to the Gargantan, who, it turns out, do not utterly shun the eating of flesh.
Ereg and his sons, meanwhile, took refuge back in GarBrusht, where the Gargantan were not enraged. There they dwelt for a time, as they waited for the dwarves in that region to discover what had happened.
Survivors of this skirmish soon returned to Undappa and to the other villages, and more men were gathered. Moreover, warriors were summoned from Taratar, which was a mining city built on the southern slope of the Tar Hills, where coal was found in abundance.
Soon a hundred armored warriors marched upon the region, every dwarf armed with axes and chain armor and leather caps. But by the time they had reached the bridge and the scene of the previous conflict, the Sparkans had constructed yet another bridge, some ways to the south, and, using the fruit once more (along with many agitating sounds), they lured the monsters once again across the Rugar and into the territory of the Antfisters.
Thus the warriors found themselves driven toward the bridge and into GarBrusht as a great number of the Gargantan approached them in a rage from the southwest. As they poured onto the bridge, however, seemingly forgetting the fact that it had doubtless been made by their enemies, the Sparkans appeared, Haf's enormous shield barring their way as Jah stood behind him with his many spears ready to fly. Beside the shield was Fas and his axe, and then all the other sons of Ereg, each bearing their favorite weapons.
The warriors of Taratar, thinking it would be better to face an opponent they understood, chose to engage the Sparkans, and to flee from the Gargantan, but by this they showed that they did not understand their enemies at all.
The Sparkans drove them back, again and again, until they were utterly trapped upon the short span of the bridge, and those that did not die by the hairy fists and strong teeth of the Gargantan died by the axe of Fas, the spears of Jah (he lost the broken spear, thrusting it into the captain of the dwarves, who then fell and was lost beneath the surface of the Rugar), and the swords of San. Ereg's own blade, the Skatos of Kuhaf, proved itself to have been well-named, as it cut through armor and helms as if they were wrought of wood and paper rather than iron and steel. In Ereg's hand the sword seemed to come to life, and the dwarves learned to fear it ere they met their end.
When the battle with the dwarves was over, however, the Gargantan and the Sparkans met once more, and the Sparkans were forced to flee from the monsters back into the GarBrusht where they might better defend themselves. Once again they fought a battle such as they had fought when first the elves had drawn down the ire of the monsters. But this time they were already exhausted from their conflict with the dwarves upon the bridge. Naj was wounded, and they others scarcely escaped alive as they fled deeper into the jungle, searching for some place where they might be saved.
When they had crossed a large stream and climbed up a rock wall to hide in a place where the Gargantan could not reach without making themselves utterly vulnerable, they stopped to rest and to breath. One of the Gargantan had taken a bite from Naj's side, breaking his armor and piercing his flesh with its large teeth. The dwarves stripped his armor and his clothes and washed the wound with water.
San made a paste from some leaves and herbs they carried with them, and spread it over the injury before wrapping his brother's side with clean brown cloth.
For several days they remained atop the rocks as Naj battled for his life against a strong fever. Fas went down into the jungle to search for wood and they kept a strong fire burning the whole while and laid Naj near to it so that his weakened body would not succumb to the growing cold. Haf and San gathered fruit and hunted as they were able - mostly wild boar and some ugly black squirrel-like creatures they came to call 'screechers'.
When Naj had all but recovered the dwarves gathered for council. 'What we l'do next?' San asked, his expression mirrored on the faces of all his siblings.
'We l'continue t' hurt Antfister, till Fist comes t' help. Against Gargantan they l'send t' golems.'
'Iron-men l'slay the Gargantan,' Jah suggested, sharpening the edge of his long spear against a rock. 'Iron-men l'slay all foes.'
'Mm,' Ereg disagreed. 'They slay't not the Yaha'Nai, though ten-thousand fight't him. Here are one-thousand Gargantan against seven. The Gargantan l'suffer, but they l'break t' golems.'
'They l'not be fighting against t' golems only,' Fas said, wincing as he took a bite out of a charred screecher on a spit. 'We l'turn t' battle against t' iron-men.'
Ereg nodded approval, for once appreciating Fas'Ereg's bombast. If Fas was against him on a matter, the others were likely to be of a split mind as well, each forming their own ideas. But if he and his second son shared a mind, then no one, not even San, the eldest, would oppose them. In the end he knew that he could rely upon his sons to obey him to the last, but it was always easier to have their agreement. He knew that in the days to come he would need Fas on his side. That, of course, was assuming that they survived their present struggles.
Red River
The next force to come against the Sparkans was all the more powerful. They brought a hundred archers and three hundred axe-men and a hundred swordsmen. The Sparkans, however, had spent their time in preparation for just such a force. They had built a roost atop an immense tree from which Naj could shoot down across the river without fearing any reprisal from below (They had also made for him a hundred wooden quarrels). When their foes came to the river Naj began raining death upon their heads from above. He loosed twenty arrows, slaying nineteen of the dwarves before they even discovered from whence he shot. The archers took their places and shot in vain, their arrows thudding dully into the bottom of the roost.
As the dwarf archers prepared fire to light the tree upon which Naj stood, Fas and San leaped from their hiding places and cut a path through the warriors, felling ten shocked dwarves as they rushed through their ranks. They fled across the bridge and vanished into the jungle, leaving the dwarves perplexed and enraged.
The captain of the dwarves ordered them to cross the bridge and avenge their comrades, but when the twentieth dwarf stepped upon the bridge it began to collapse, sinking the mail-encumbered warriors into the rushing water. Dwarves generally do not know how to swim, and armor does not make their chances of surviving such an event any better.
Flaming arrows struck the base of Naj's tree, setting it on fire and sending smoke curling up into the sky. But Naj climbed out of the roost and slid down a cord into the forest, escaping their arrows as he flew over the trees.
It was then that, once again, the Sparkans used the Gargantan as weapons against their enemies. After leading them across the Rugar in another place, Jah and Haf appeared behind the dwarf warriors with a large group of the angry giants in their train. They leaped into battle as though they and the monsters were of one mind, and, as the dwarves turned to face them, it really was so for a time. But knowing that the monsters were just as likely to rip them to pieces as their enemies, they made their way to the north and, cutting down the captain and his guardians, fled from the battle, leaving the Gargantan to finish the fight.
The Golems Approach
Soon word of these 'Summoners' who could make even the mighty Gargantan obey them reached the ears of the lord of Antfister.
When he learned of the difficulty the warriors of Taratar had in confronting them, and of the slaughter of so great a host of dwarf warriors, he sent word to the master of Fist, who had not more than four months ago promised the might of their golems in exchange for an alliance against Turg. If there ever was a time to call upon his new ally, it was certainly now, when the ancient Gargantan were somehow making their way into the land of Antfister to devastate fully trained and armed dwarf warriors.
Thus on the morning of the ninth day of Ninus, five of Fist's golems thundered into the region, flanked on each side by armor clad dwarves from Fist and Antfister alike.
'They sent an army to us,' Naj said, reporting what he and Jah had discovered. 'An ar
my!'
'Calm,' their father said sternly. It was considered uncomely for a dwarf to repeat themselves.
Naj had good reason for his excitement. Dwarves valued strength above almost all other things, even over goodness. Even if a dwarf was considered a cruel and wicked tyrant, so long as he was mighty, he was respected and honored by friend and foe alike. His enemies would still seek to kill him, but they would not feel disdain for him. These six dwarves had fought in such a manner as to draw against them an entire army and five golems. This was certainly something to be proud of.
'Let them come t' jungle,' Ereg said.
'They l'come?' Haf asked. 'Though they know of t' Gargantan?'
'They l'come,' Ereg answered. 'We bleed't Undappa and Taratar; they l'not leave us till we dead.'
'Or till they dead,' Fas added, gently testing the edge of his axe-blade. It was not really necessary for him to add that, but his eagerness for glory pushed the words from his mouth. Ereg looked at him concernedly. It was not only Fas, he realized, that was growing impatient. All of his sons were excited about their accomplishments.
'Sparka l'not be forgotten,' San said.
Ereg sighed; he wanted Sparka to survive in deed; not merely in myth and lore. By now they had accomplished a feat worthy of song and legend. Many dwarves would be content with this, and face the coming battle with a rash lust for death and fame. They would hope that by meeting such an end they would be remembered in song forever.
Ereg did not want songs, however. He wanted Sparka and its people. He did not need to make a good show of it in the coming battle. He needed to win. He needed to break the golems and halt the war-plans of the Land of the Five Kings and Fist. He also thought that in the end he would need the elves. His sons had all but forgotten about Agonas and his companions. Dan'Ereg was safe, and as far as they were concerned there was no more reason to concern themselves with the mission of slaying the Drake'Ya. Perhaps it was due to their youth, but his sons, save for Fas and San who had seen the Elementals in the Place of Hearing, did not fully understand the certainty of what was going to befall Turg and Sparka in the coming years.
'Sparka l'perish,' Ereg said coldly, making an end of their joviality. 'Sparka l'perish,' he repeated himself in mockery of Naj, as if to say, THIS is something to be excited about. 'Think not of glory but of t' fight.'
The sons of Ereg fully expected to meet some gruesome fate in a glorious final battle against the dwarves of Fist and their golems. And when it came time to make their preparations they proposed an assortment of hopeless strategies, each designed to bring them into the very center of the conflict, where they might all die together as they fought the metal beasts. But Ereg rejected all such strategies. 'We l'stay in GarBrusht,' he said, much to their amazement. 'We hurt them too much t' be forget't. And if they leave us, we l'renew our assault upon their lands till they must return. They must come to GarBrusht.'
And, of course, the Sparkans had grown somewhat accustomed to living amidst the Gargantan. They could pass through the woods now without troubling the beasts, and they also knew some means of pacifying them when a confrontation occurred. Ereg was counting upon the fact that the dwarves of Antfister and of Fist would not let their attacks go unavenged, and would sent the golems across the Rugar River into GarBrusht. Indeed, golems were very often thought almost to be invulnerable. They would cross the river thinking that the monsters in the jungle were of little concern to them. But Ereg intended to prove otherwise. The beasts are one thing, he thought, but when they are directed by dwarves they are as good as the iron-men.
The Fistmen and the golems set a camp near the edge of the river, setting the golems to watch over the borders. On the north they set Feis, a somewhat tall dwarf with yellow hair and a long braided beard. The golem in which he rode was shaped like a great warrior with tall horns of adamant and a great cleaver in its right hand. The left arm was like a great mace covered with long spikes. Upon its back there was a pipe through which smoke billowed in a steady stream. When the golem began to move the smoke poured out, blackening the air like a storm cloud. But as he sat watching into the night, the iron-man was quiet and its smoke rose gently into the air unseen.
Watching over the river on the eastern edge of the camp was Aegr, a dark haired dwarf nearly as deadly on foot as he was within his steel armored golem. His mount took the shape of an axeman, with an axe that could fell an oak tree in three swift strokes.
Over the west watched Nai'Jemon, the white haired lord of Ugrund and captain over the entire force of Fistmen. His golem looked like a giant man of iron, and in each hand was a broad sword the height of a full grown mortal man.
On the southern edge of the camp stood the great Vorin, whose metal armor was shaped like a great four-legged beast. The tail of the golem was like a whip, tipped with an adamant spearhead, which could be thrust with great force in any direction.
As Naj spied upon their encampment he was amazed by the might of their enemies, and more amazed that his father should think it possible for them to have victory. In truth, Ereg was not at all certain that they could defeat the golems. But he saw no other means of stalling the coming war.
Following his father's instructions, Naj climbed quietly from the tree from which he was spying and made his way silently through the GarBrusht to the Sparkans' camp. 'Nai'Jemon is among them,' he said as he sat down before the fire and spooned himself a portion of the stew Haf had prepared. The air was quite cold now, and most of the dwarves were now garbed in Gargantan-fur coats, something only a king would wear in other lands. But here each one of them had proven themselves worthy of the rare attire.
Ereg nodded. He had met the old warrior once, when he had come as an emissary from Fist to Sparka, hoping to make an alliance. But the Sparkans were solitary folk, and they were not willing to encumber themselves with alliances to any other nations. It had cost them greatly over the years, but it won them their independence, and it had also made them strong.
'Nai'Jemon is old man,' he laughed, lifting the spirits of his sons with his confidence. 'When not napping, deadly like bear.'
'They not napping now,' Naj said, renewing his report. 'They have golems watching whole camp. A mighty one in t' midst, hidden from eyes. Tomorrow they l'cross t' River. That I hear't from scouts, who pass't beneath my tree. They test't t' bridge; and they make't sure it safe.'
'Then they l'cross it,' Fas said excitedly.
'All ready?' Ereg said, looking first to San and then to Fas.
'All,' they said almost in unison.
'Then I l'watch tonight. All you, sons, rest tonight. Gather strength; sleep is t' warrior like t' drawing of t' bowstring. Fill yourselves with power tonight, be loosed upon your foes in t' morning.'
They obeyed immediately, each dumping the remains of their dinner into the fire before crawling into their Ghilil-skin tents and wrapping themselves with fur.
Ereg sat before the fire and stared long into the leaping flames.
When he had sat in this way for a long time a single tongue of flame appeared as if from nowhere, and spoke to him, saying, 'I am Fuehar, spirit of fire. What do you wish from me? Why have you called me?'
Ereg spoke softly, not wanting to wake his sons from their sleep. 'Agonas and his comrades, are they safe?' he asked. It would not do, after all, to slow Fist in its march to war if he had no way to save the Sparkans.
'One has fallen,' Fuehar spoke without compassion, 'but the others yet live.'
'How far can you see, jinn of fire?' Ereg asked.
'I can see however so far I please, if you but have the concentration to listen. For we elementals do not speak as you dwarves and humans speak, saying only a little bit here and there. When we speak, we speak everything. But you must listen very carefully if you are to hear it.'
'Then you are as wise as Ocreov?' Ereg queried.
'I speak no less, and Ocreov speaks no more. But in the Place of Hearing it is easier for one such as yourself
to understand.
'Is there hope for Sparka?' Ereg said, taking a deep breath to swallow his emotion.
'You may save your people,' Fuehar said somberly, 'But not your sons. Or you may save your sons, but not your people.'
'Is there no other way?' Ereg asked, emotion almost overcoming his voice, 'Is there no other way but the way I have chosen?'
'None.'
With that Ereg lost his focus and the jinn vanished, leaving the dwarf suddenly alone in the cold night. He shivered, and looked around the camp mournfully.
The Great Battle
On the morrow three golems crossed the Rugar River and marched noisily through the jungle. Aegr took the lead, his great axe clearing a path for the others whenever their course required it. They had sent scouts of their own into the GarBrusht, and had located Ereg's camp the night before. But when they came to the place where the Sparkans had rested they found nothing but an enormous mound of smashed and peeled Aradra fruit. Atop the pile stood Ereg, with Skatos unsheathed at his side. 'I am Ereg of Sparka,' he cried out. 'I am warn't of Fist in t' Place of Hearing; we come t' avenge my people!'
'Avenge!?' Feis replied. 'We've done nothing t' Sparkans!'
'The Elementals speak't,' Ereg replied. 'Have you no hearers in Fist or Antfister? Or do you lie as you speak t' me?'
To this Feis had no answer. But Aegr stepped forward, his great axe ever at the ready to swing. 'You cannot avenge where is no crime,' he said in irritation. 'Cease, and we l'bind you only. Fight on and none l'recognize t' remains.'
'Ocreov speak't t' me concerning your nation; t' crimes are as good as commit't. When t' crime is destruction of Sparka and its people, t' revenge must precede t' crime - or else it l'go unpunish't.'
'If Sparka is harm't, Ereg of Sparka,' Nai'Jemon said, stepping forward with thunderous strides to address Ereg, 'then it l'be in response to your deeds, not for aggression of ours!'
'You no dwarves, then,' Ereg said. 'You have no hearers; if you did, then you would have hear't from Ocreov t' folly of your words.'
'If you l'not be bound, Ereg,' Nai'Jemon said without emotion, 'then today you have perish't.'
Ereg smiled.
In an instant Nai'Jemon found his metal armor clanging upon the ground as an enormous Gargantan rushed into the camp and knocked two of the golems off their iron feet.
Feis hesitated for a moment, trying to decide whether he ought to pursue Ereg or help his comrades. This moment cost him his life, as a Gargantan leaped upon him and pushed him to the ground. The beast tore at his armor, bending the metal and digging bloodily into the chamber where the dwarf lay screaming in fear and pain.
In an instant many dwarf warriors rushed forward from their hiding places to help free the golems. They fought a fierce battle, and twelve dwarves lay dead upon the ground with their heads smashed or their limbs ripped from their bodies ere the golems were back on their iron legs - save for Feis, whose golem now lay in a smoking heap.
Aegr strode forward coolly and, with one great swing of his axe, cut the Gargantan who killed his companion in two, the creatures thick spine resisting the adamant blade no more than the thin air through which it passed.
'Cursed is Ereg!' Nai'Jemon shouted in a rage. 'What l'befall your people is done by your hand! Cursed is Sparka!'
The two remaining golems continued into the jungle, trailed by a great troop of furious dwarf warriors. Two more Gargantan approached them as they marched, but the dwarves in their anger made short work of them. Somewhere deep within his mind the lord of the golems knew that he ought to have turned back. To have lost a golem rider so quickly was a great blow, and Ereg had planned his attack well. But now that they were prepared, he did not think that it was possible for him to harm them again. His rage, however, was at the forefront of his thoughts, and pushed all other considerations aside.
Well into the night they continued, carefully following Ereg's trail into the jungle. 'How could they sneak into Undappa, if they leave such a trail behind them?' Aegr said as they followed a path of broken bushes and trampled brush in pursuit of their enemy. 'I can trace his path from within my armor,' he marveled. But as they pressed on they began to wonder if indeed they were following his trail at all. Morning came and the dwarves stopped to rest in a small clearing near a small hill. Four dwarves were sent out in each direction to scout ahead and report what they discovered concerning the Sparkans. They all returned without having seen any sign of Ereg or his sons. 'We l'turn back,' Nai'Jemon said, his reason overtaking his anger again. 'If we go further we l'risk losing t' mounts. We have enough oil for battle, and for t' return, but we cannot press on into t' jungle.'
Aegr growled in agreement, knowing the other dwarf to be right. Thus they began their return journey, but only to find that the trail they had followed had been joined by innumerable others, so that it was now quite impossible for them to discern which route they had taken to reach the clearing. Frantically the scouts ran ahead, hoping to see where each path led.
None returned, however, and the golems were forced to choose a path on their own, and without knowing to whence it led. In the end they were led south and then east before rounding a great hill of rock. 'This is not the way!' Aegr cursed. 'And now we have not the oil for the return.'
After some debate they decided to combine their oil and make the return with Nai'Jemon walking on foot with the warriors while Aegr rode his golem back to the Rugar River with the remaining oil slowly burning away. They met no Gargantan and saw no further signs of the Sparkans until at last they came within sight of the water. A party of fifteen dwarves were sent into the GarBrusht with a barrel of oil to find and return with Nai'Jemon's golem. But only five of them returned, bloodied and battered, cursing the Gargantan, and reporting that the golem had been destroyed beyond recognition.
'Cover't with t' juice of t' Aradra,' one of the survivors said, recalling the sweet aroma that had filled the place where the golem had been abandoned. 'The Ape'Nai tear't it t' shreds.'
Three days later Nai'Jemon, now clad in ordinary chain armor like his warriors, led half of his force into the jungle. Aegr marched in front of the troop, his great axe clearing a path for the warriors and golems with ease. Their forceful parade into the GarBrusht, of course, drew out the Gargantan, and they lost a great number of dwarves to the fierce guardians of that region. But their armor was strong and the golems were mighty, and they made their way into the heart of the jungle swiftly. They came to the place where Nai'Jemon's golem had been destroyed and set up camp upon the hill. By the next evening they had built a strong fence around the hill and began construction on something of a watchtower.
This act, of making their camp in the place where they had been outwitted, was meant to be a challenge to the Sparkans' honor. There are few things a dwarf would not suffer before it was revealed that he had been outwitted. Dwarves are certainly not scholars after the fashion of my people, the Lapulians. But they are proud of their swift thinking and their intuitions - both of which they possess in greater measure than any human, mortal or immortal. To be outwitted was the greatest insult a dwarf could endure. But greater still was when a dwarf refused to be cowed by the insult, and made their own humiliation known. In this way Nai'Jemon could say to both his warriors and to the Sparkans, and to all who might in ages to come learn of what had transpired, that Ereg was a trickster, and not a warrior.
When this was reported among the Sparkans the sons of Ereg were enraged. But Ereg restrained them in a forceful tone, saying, 'Mm, sons, Mm. We l'wait. They spit upon us; they make mockery of Sparka, but what be Sparka? A people or a legend? What be Sparka with honor, if it be destroy't?'
'What be people without honor?' Fas asked fiercely. 'It better t' be remember't than dishonor't.'
'Mm,' Ereg said, shaking his head. He stormed away from the fire and entered his shelter, closing the flap tightly against the cold wind.