The Search for a Legend (Book 1 of Quest for Knowledge) by Christopher Jackson-Ash (early readers TXT) 📕

The elf queen’s two companions rose and bowed to the meeting. They were identical twins. They were probably tall for elves, but Simon estimated they would only stand with the tops of their heads at his shoulders. They had the same distinctive facial features as Ceridwen but their hair was long and blond, tied in ponytails. They wore tight green body suits of the same glimmering material that left nothing to the imagination. At their sides, they carried highly decorated scabbards. On their backs, they carried quivers, packed with arrows for the long bows slung across their shoulders. The three elves sat down.

Immediately a very short, stocky figure jumped up. He was shorter than Jhamed and even fatter. His hair was long and matted, his beard longer, and he was dressed all in black, except for iron chain mail that covered his body. Fierce blue eyes stared out of his hairy face and a pug-like nose wrinkled in disgust. When he opened his mouth, his teeth looked like a ninepin alley after the ball had been bowled. He carried a huge shield on his left arm and in his right hand he brandished an axe that seemed to be taller than he was. He slammed the haft of his axe on the floor, causing a boom to reverberate through the building. He looked in the direction of the elves and spat on the floor. Faster than Simon could follow, Taran and Adjatay were on their feet, shielding their Queen. They had arrows fitted to their bows and were pointing them at the dwarf, who now had his shield raised in anticipation. “By the blood of my forefathers, my axe will cleave the skulls of a couple of Pagh today! It is dwarfish axes, not elven bows that you need in the time of peril.”

“Cease and desist!” A powerful voice brought them all to attention. Manfred stood before them. His anger was evident by the blue flame that seemed to burn around his body. He stood tall, much taller than Simon had ever seen him and he looked less old – Simon couldn’t say young, but no longer a doddery old man. Manfred’s eyes burned with green fire and his staff glowed orange red. “We are here to try to save FirstWorld from an horrendous fate. We are not here to squabble about old grievances that should have long been forgotten. Dawit, put down your weapons. Taran and Adjatay unhook your arrows and sit down!” Suitably chastened, the three complied. “Now Dawit, let’s start again.” Manfred slowly sat down and to Simon he again appeared to become a frail old man.

“My apologies, Great Sage. The old blood still runs strong in the veins of Dawit son of Dia son of Din. I am come down from First Delve at Devil’s Mouth to represent the voice of the Dwarf people. Would that I had joined Master Gamying and taken the risk of the ice road. Rather I battled the snows and came through the Gap of Despair. The fell creatures abound in the mountains these days and it took all of my cunning to avoid them. I fear that my axe would have done little against them. My father Dia son of Din son of Dane is King Beneath the Mountains. Like the Pagh, our numbers have dwindled.” Simon thought he was going to spit again when he used the Dwarfish word for elves, which judging by the response was obviously derogatory.

“Unlike them, we do not hide away from men. If we could not trade with Tamarlan and Fang, we would starve. The winter has been too long and very hard, harder than anyone remembers. Our stores are running very low. We have eaten no fresh vegetables or meat for nearly six months.” The dwarf sighed and then continued. “The road through the Impenetrable Forest is grown over. There is no passage along the Idigna, neither for a dwarf nor a mountain goat, I would wager. My axe was soon blunted and I had a peculiar feeling that I was being watched by many pairs of eyes. Out of pragmatism, I followed the edge of the forest north eastwards, sheltering at night as best I could. After three days, I came at last upon the River Hope, flowing with its icy chill out of the Mountains of Death. I built a fire on its banks. The Dark Woods across the river filled me with foreboding. The Impenetrable Forest at my back seemed to express loathing for all of my kind. I said a prayer to Satania for my lost kindred somewhere up in those terrible mountains.”

Dawit seemed to shiver at the memory and a chill flowed down Simon’s spine and set goose bumps on his arms as if in empathy with the speaker.

“A group of five hundred of our finest young dwarves left First Delve four hundred years ago. They wanted to challenge some of the old ways, to set up a new delve where they could live with greater freedom. King Dane son of Dwahir son of Davit allowed them to leave, believing it would provide our shrinking population with a new chance, and for his own personal reasons which I won’t bore you with now. They obtained horses, wagons and stores in Tamarlan and headed west into the Frozen Wastes. They followed the foothills of the Mountains of Death for many days before finding a pass into the mountains, which they called New Hope Pass. They climbed high into the mountains where they found an entrance into a cave system that seemed a perfect place to establish New Delve. They were full of excitement and hope. Their leader, David son of Dwahir son of Davit, wrote a long parchment setting out their hopes and plans. They drew straws and one of their number was sent to take the message back to Devil’s Mouth. He was never seen or heard of again. By some fate, the parchment was found and finally came to First Delve some two hundred years ago. A search party was immediately dispatched to find out if they had survived and prospered. It disappeared without trace. Two other expeditions were mounted in the years that followed. No sign of them has ever been seen again. Today our numbers are too few to risk a further expedition. So we continue to agonise over the fate of our brethren. We fear that in their delving they unearthed some great evil, as is ever the way in the Mountains of Death.” Dawit paused and looked directly at Simon. He couldn’t read the dwarf but his goose bumps were reinforced and he shivered with something that resembled fear as Dawit’s dark, unblinking eyes burned into his.

“In the stories of my people, passed down through the generations, it is said that when the Gods formed the world and created us all, they put some Good and Evil into each of us. When they had finished their creations, they had a pile of Evil left over. So, they buried it deep, deep in the mountains where they figured it would remain sealed and hidden for all time. But it is a dwarf’s role to dig and seek ever-greater treasures from the earth. It was inevitable that we would eventually dig so deep that we would find the Evil. It is said that when the Evil was released it had no form. It fled into the Northland where it sought form and a reason for its existence. It is said that humankind gave it both. So was the Dark God created, for our misery.” Mythology, a creation myth. But why does it make me feel afraid? Simon cast a quick glance at Jhamed. His new friend seemed transfixed on the proceedings, gently nodding in agreement.

“In those days, long ago, there were many dwarves delving in the mountains. The greatest treasure ever unearthed was the Blood Ruby. It was found shortly before the Evil was unearthed. It was thought to have great power. When the Dark God’s forces began to attack the three races, we knew that we had to put old enmities aside and work together. Each race provided a part of the solution. Humankind provided the Hero. The Pa-... the elves provided a great sword. We provided the Blood Ruby.” Dawit paused to draw breath and collect his thoughts. Simon thought he saw tears in the dwarf’s eyes and when he looked at Jhamed, there were tears streaming down his friend’s face too. Maybe it’s not a myth. Are they talking about my sword? And my ruby too?

“I’m sorry that I was distracted from telling you about my journey,” Dawit continued. “I followed the River Hope for three days, until footsore and weary, I came at last to the end of the Fools’ Road. It is said that only fools travel this road, for it ends on the banks of the impassable Hope River. Even if one could cross the river, there is only the Forest of Doom on the other side. To my knowledge, no living being has entered that Dark Wood and come out alive. It is strange to me that so many roads out of Elannort lead to nowhere. But who am I to counsel the Wise? The road is in surprisingly good condition for one that goes nowhere. There were few travellers on the road to ease the lonely journey, but I came at last unscathed to Elannort and offer my services, Manfred, Great Sage, as you would see fit to use me.” Dawit bowed to Manfred and finally sat down. I wonder if all dwarves talk so much. Jhamed talks a lot and is rather short and fat. I wonder if he’s related?

The gathering seemed in a sombre mood after Dawit’s speech. Manfred clapped his hands and a group of servants entered, scurrying here and there, and bringing refreshment to the guests. They were served green tea and oatcakes with honey. Despite the short time since breakfast, Simon and Jhamed tucked in with gusto. Everyone in the room seemed to be eating except for Manfred and the elves. Manfred seemed lost in thought. The elves sat silently watching. Simon was thinking about asking Jhamed about his parentage, but thought better of it. “All of these history and geography lessons are getting a bit confusing,” he said instead.

Jhamed fished into his jacket pocket and drew out a crumpled parchment. “Here’s a map of Central FirstWorld. I’m sorry, I should have thought about giving it to you earlier. Look, here’s Tamarlan where Gamying comes from, and Devil’s Mouth. Dawit’s journey took him along this route.” He used his finger to trace the route through the Gap of Despair, along the edge of the Impenetrable Forest and down the River Hope to the Fools’ Road and on to Elannort. “Rhakotis is away in the south west. Eden, where the elves live, is the area between the two great rivers. The three races don’t mix very much. Elves and dwarves hate each other, except in my case, and humankind hates anything that is different.” Simon was about to ask another question when Manfred clapped again, their cups and plates were swiftly removed and the next person rose to speak. What did he mean, in my case?

The next speaker was a large man. Large was a kind description, Simon thought. He was tall and