Chapter 6

A Reckoning Force

Shadows flickered upon the surface of the rock formations at the base of the Dragon's Teeth from the many campfires within the encampment of the federation. Soldiers gathered in large circles around each roaring fire while cups were being poured full from the tapped large wine barrels that were brought in from the local Abbey. From the ranking officers to the foot soldiers, the regiments of the federation could not get their fill of the wine and the effects that the wine would bring them. Tonight they felt like celebrating after hitting yet another large pocket of smaller diamonds. With each strike that they hit, only increased the wealth of the federation. This would keep the federation armies well supplied and strong as they built up the numbers of soldiers within their forces and kept them fighting to regain some of the land they lost after The Shadowen War.

From the center campfire, a parson that appeared to be from the local Abbey sat with the officers eyeing them carefully within his brown, woolen cowl. His strong and handsome features were carefully concealed, and he knew the officers were more concerned about the wine that he brought verses the repentance of their souls in which his garb had indicated. Fingering the length of beads from about his waist, he was thankful that the wine that he brought appeased them, for if they wanted absolution he would be hard pressed in knowing how to conduct himself accordingly.

His eyes shifted from around the encampment and saw his fifteen hooded fellow parsons stationed around different areas of campfires with their wagonloads of barrels of wine. Some of his men were tapping new barrels, while the soldiers lined up with empty cups to be filled. Others of his men had jars full of wine and making their way through the throngs of men refilling their tin cups and offering blessings as they went along.

From the center of the camp in which he sat, he was within clear view of their cook's wagon and could see that it was well stocked. In fact everything in the camp was well stocked and they barely lacked for anything. Yes, the federation army was free with their money and they were building up for what looked logically to him as an army ready to move having the strength that they needed to take over all that they had once lost. His arrival could not have waited a moment later. The wealth of the Federation Army was soon to be lightened. He dry washed his hands thinking about that.

With the heavy aroma coming from the huge thick kettles that hung over a pitch was filled with hot bubbling stew to feed the many soldiers. The cooks manned their pots and baked their breads and kept their coffee pots full. Intermediately soldiers held their empty plates ready to be filled as the cook scooped and slopped the stew and then added a thick slice of bread on top. Instead of filling their cups with coffee, the men were delighted to have another choice rather than the thick, burnt and bitter fluid that was usually served. Spirits in the camp was uproarious as soldiers sang, gambled and told each other wickedly funny stories that would cause maidens to faint.

From behind him, in makeshift corrals from circled wagons, crates and other oddities, the horses roamed neck to neck being pressed within this confinement. Other horses were saddled and bridled and tied to a long rope in readiness to the soldiers that may have need of them at a moments notice. Weaponry of swords, bows and quivers and all different sorts filled wagons for the ten thousand men within the Federation camp. Forges blazed hot and ready as blacksmiths banged upon the anvils shoeing their horses and repairing their swords.

Hundreds of rows of small white tents pitched in the darkness on the furthest side of the camp that seemed endless to the eyes that looked upon them.

The smell of smoke, horses and sweat of men reeked within the cup-hold of the valley within the Dragon's Teeth.

The cowl that encased the parson's head slowly turned to the entrance of the mine and watched momentarily to the guards that stood watch. Slowly, Padishar Creel kept count of the hours he knew it would take before his well made plan would begin. From the wagon that he convinced the General of the Federation was his personal gift from the Abbey. Padishar Creel requested that they keep that hidden from the other officers and regular soldiers and had it placed under guard in the darken cavern of the mine. He only hoped his daughter in company with the mole could free the dwarves bound and chained within the deep caverns of the mine and get them to that wagon that was filled with swords and bows rather than the wine he had them believe was in them.

He thought what fools these federation soldiers be… when their enemy could walk in unchecked bearing gifts of drink to dull their minds while their offensives were being built around them. Unaware.

Padishar Creel smiled and shook his head in unbelievable thinking, knowing the Rock Tolls where out there in the darkness slowly moving in gathering their numbers around this encampment. Very soon the glory of battle would be upon them and may victory be theirs!

Xxx

Lifting his nose and taking in the scent of the mine, the mole toddled on the tips of his toes moving quickly and quietly through the jagged chasm that the ancestral dwarves have craved out in the deep depths of solid rock and stone. While Damson stayed heel to toe directly behind the mole and rested her hand gently upon his shoulder in the solid pitch darkness of the cavern. Trust was all she had in her peculiar guide that she followed. She could feel his easy breaths of air with the raise and fall of his chest and she could tell that the mole felt at home in the total blackness in this stone and rock walled space. She tried to keep in time with his ease of breath taking her air in her lungs pacing it with his. Her heart raced and pounded within her chest. Beads of sweat dripped down her face and began to soak her silk undergarments. She could feel her limps tremble that seemed to weaken her muscles, but still willing them forward.

'Straighten your backbone!' she chided herself in her mind. She would not allow her fears to dissolve her determination. The success of her mission was everything to the victory for the Free-born Fighters and to her father. If she failed all hope would be lost.

The Mole maneuvered her around a huge chunk of rock and deep fractures on the floor of the mine as if he walked in full day light. The filth and flounder reeked heavily in the poorly vented air space in which they traveled. Damson gulped in between her breaths and wiped the sweat from her brow. Then from time to time, the Mole would hum and titter feeling so at home in this solid blackness. It eased the desperate feelings racing within her. She reluctantly patted the Mole upon his back to remind him that he needed to be quiet so they would not be discovered by hidden guards of the Federation. Onward and deeper into the blacken mine they traveled while time ticked away. The Mole would stop occasionally to sniff the air and make a definite right turn and entered into another section of the mine. She could feel the sharp decline of the rock floor beneath her feet traveling still deeper and she clutched her fingers grasp upon the shoulder of the Mole. He stopped and patted her hand and lightly whispered to her. "The children are sleeping, lovely Damson. We must walk lightly as not to awaken them. Come, my lovely child. The Mole will take you to them." He tittered again with sharp raise and fall of his chest.

The smell of the sweat of men and other bodily fluids assaulted her senses and she immediately covered her nose with her hand. The Mole suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and took Damson's hand away from his shoulder. "They're all here, nestled upon the floor in their blankets," commented the Mole while he gazed upon them and sighed. Damson reached her arms around the mole to hug him.

"Oh, Mole! Thank you; Thank you so much for helping me find them."

"You're welcome, lovely Damson." Even though she could not see his face, she could almost feel his wide smile upon his thick lips.

She sunk to her knees and reached out with her arms to feel for the sleeping dwarves upon the floor. When her hand hit the solid, iron chain that was bolted to the dwarf's ankles, it rattled and immediately brought that dwarf awake.

"Whose there!" he roared which brought the others fully awake. There was a clatter of chains that broke the silence of the cavern while the dwarves lit their candles one by one until the light exploded within the blackness.

The Mole squealed and hissed in terror shielding his eyes and backing out of the cavern and back into the darkness.

Damson raced to her feet and charged after the Mole to halt him. Calming her voice to gentle tones, she quietly spoke lovingly to him. "There, there, Mole. Soothe yourself. No one here will harm you. The light is needed to help us see. Stay here in the darkness and do not move from this spot until I come back for you."

She took off her parson's robe and directed the Mole to lye down and covered him with it. Adjusting the sword and long knife that she wore at her waist, she turned and knelt down to her friend. Smoothing back his rough course hair with her hand, Damson softly spoke to him with kindness. "Sleep, dear Mole, until I return."

"Lovely, Damson. The Mole is so tired of the light and noise of men. They rattle the thoughts of my head to near shattering," he quailed.

"I know, dear Mole. But soon all this will be over with and you will have the peace and darkness that you need."

Standing she followed the soft glow of light back into the cavern that housed the dwarves. She saw that they had gathered themselves together and stood gaping at this strange woman before them.

"Dwarves of Tyrsis!" she shouted out to them taking a strong stance and allowing her eyes to roam freely taking in each ones appearance. The dwarves were tattered and filthy and half starved. Thick embedded dirty and dried mug clung on their clothing, faces and limbs. Many that she viewed where wrapped in bandages from shoulder to fingers and a few had wooden crafted crutches they leaned upon needing supports to stand. There appeared to be only a few hundred dwarves and not near the numbers she had hoped to find in this mine. Each one had shown the suffering that they had endured from the federation that held them. At first glance she wondered how these dwarves would have the strength to lead the first assault against their captors. "Today, I bring you freedom from your chains. You must raise and join with us, the Free-born Fighters, and put an end to the Federation that enslaves you!"

Her voice trailed off seeing no movement from the dwarves who stood frozen and gaping. Only the candle light flickered. Dead silence.

The front row of dwarves craned their necks to peer behind her as if they expected the Freed-born Fighters to charge into their cavern to rescue them. But standing before them was only the girl, backbone straight and determined.

"Well! What are you waiting for?" she snarled at them showing her teeth. "Follow me and I will lead you to your freedom."

A rag-tagged dwarf filthy and dulled-eyed pushed his way through the front row of his fellow dwarves and walked slowly up to the girl. He seemed fit enough from what the others had appeared bearing thick shoulders and strong arms. He only stood up to her shoulders, but for the fierceness of his features and long, coarse, gray beard. He was a force that would cause men to fear. The chain that was clenched around his ankles dragged on the rough stone flooring, clanging and rattling while he walked. Stopping before her, the bulky dwarf began to chuckle softly that became louder as he eyed her up and down.

"You're a fair wisp of girl to look upon," he hummed the words with a smirk upon his lips and scratched his beard thinking what this girl was about. "The Free-born Fighters you say?" He looked back at his fellow dwarves snickering and then returned his attention back to the lass. "If'n the Free-born Fighters send a sprig of girl to open our door, as it were, their leader ain't worth spit in fighting the federation soldiers. He's diving into a pond without checkin' its depths. They'll be wiped out before they have a heel within the camp. I'm not buying a penny's worth it, girly-girl."

Damson red hair seemed ruddiness as did her face and her temper. Within a single swift movement, her hand was on the hilt of her sword while at the same time she swung her leg around and caught the unexpected dwarf behind his knees. Then suddenly his knees buckled and he found himself upon his back and the lass upon his chest and a long knife pressed upon his neck. She held her sword in the other hand that kept the other dwarves from venturing any closer to her. The dwarves stood like rows of gaping fish and not one moved a muscle nor twitched. Her adept skill that she displayed with the sword and long knife and the ease in which she brought down Griffin kept them in their place.

She leaned down close to the dwarf's shocked face and snarled between her gritted teeth. "If I told you I had a wagon filled full of cross bows, long bows and stout swords and ten's of thousands Free-born Fighters that is at this very moment surrounding the federation camp, will you follow me and fight your way out of this mine and to your freedom?"

The dwarf she sat upon could only give a quick nod and did his best not to move a muscle from the pressure of the knife point upon his neck. "Good then!" Damson stated and placed her sword on the ground while keeping her knife point pressed at the throat of the dwarf. Then without taking her eyes from the dwarf nor giving a blink of her eyelids, she reaching into her waist pocket and produced iron keys and dangled them out in front of the dwarf's face. Her father had given them to her before she boarded her wagon with the Mole secured inside one of the barrels. He had stolen a copy of them in the federation stronghold in Tyrsis just incase he may have need of them for himself if he were captured.

"The name is Griffin, my fine lass," and he reached his hand up to her wrist and gently guided the long knife away from his throat. Damson stood up and sheaved she long knife and tossed the keys at Griffin. She stood watching him unlock his chains while she collected her sword. She could feel his sense of freedom and renewed strength that took the dullness from his eyes as he stood facing her. He moved about testing his legs without the burden and the weight of the iron chains and he marvel at the ease of his own movement.

Damson turned to him, "There must be more dwarves in these mines then what I see here."

"There are, lass. At least forty more caverns like this one the further you go down. But there be guards outpost within the mine and getting to them will be the trick," Griffin surmised. "Let's see to your wagon first before we go any further."

With stealth, Damson led the way to her wagon while the dwarves gathered up their torches and lit them. The Mole coward and covered his face with the parson's robe as the dwarves with their flaming torches passed him. Damson only gave him a short look knowing the Mole would be all right if left in the darkness and quiet. She turned and followed the dwarves to the entrance of the mine and her wagon.

Damson lowered her torch and had the dwarves do likewise while they all crouched down balancing upon their heels of their feet. She motioned for four of the dwarves to hand their torches to others to hold and directed them to follow behind her.

Carefully she maneuvered them from around the safety of a craved out stone wall and then around to the back of the wagon and slowly began to remove hidden boards from the side panels of the wagon. The false bottom gate gave way and the four dwarves stood back in awe seeing piles of stout swords pressed into the confined space. Their eyes lit to sparkles and could now feel their freedom with each sword they piled into their arms.

Next, Damson climbed into the wagon and pried the lid off one of the largest barrels on her wagon. It revealed cross bows, bows and quivers that were filled full of arrows. Eyeing the cross bow that Damson placed in their arms, they returned their grateful smiles to her and knew with this type of armory in the hands of the dwarves, they would be a force to recon with.

The dwarves headed back towards where their friends awaited for them, while two more dwarves took their place to get another armful. The two dwarves with Damson held their arms open to receive the cross bows she handed down to them and they joined their friends. With precision, a steady flow of arms being moved from one dwarf to the next as they stood in a line until all the swords and bows were unloaded and taken further down into the mine.

Damson stood in the darkness just behind the entrance and listened to the commotion of rivalry and high spirits in the camp of soldiers. She knew what she was doing in the mine would be undetected to this drunken lot of men. That is if they hadn't run out of wine in the camp and go looking for more in the empty barrels that she just unloaded. With any luck everything should go a smoothly as her father had planned.

With the keys to the chains in his pocket, a sword in one hand and the other a torch, Griffin led the dwarves back into the mine to free the thousands of fellow miners and drive the Federation forces out of their mine once and for all. They will reclaim it in the name of the Dwarves of Tyrsis.

xxx

An ominous, piercing, bright-light that was upon Cullinan and within him and his presence was that of pure evil. The large diamond that he held in his bloodied hands pulsated drinking in his soul and his essences. Cullinan's eyes radiated a white light and he knew his master's desire. A woman.

Cullinan brought forth the malevolence of this precious diamond into the world and now she wished to become one within it. Being of Flesh and blood and spirit.

He caressed the purest diamond that he had ever beheld within his hands and gently placed it back into the Kimberlite. "Yes, my dearest. I will do whatever you ask of me."

Turning, Cullinan stepped over the two bloodied bodies of his friends that had guarded this tomb.

xxx

In the solid darkness and resting his head against the cool stone, the mole's nose suddenly twitched and he sat up in the darkness trying to figure out where this new sensation was coming from. It was something that he had never felt before that stirred deep within him as if something was calling to him and he knew he needed to go there. He stopped and sniffed the air for his lovely Damson, but her scent was not close enough for him to smell. She could be busy for hours with those nasty and horrible dwarves with their lights and their loud noises. His ears and nose twitched again as he turned back to the intriguing scent and sensation that stirred in his heart. Toddling to his feet and brushing off the parson's robe, he allowed it to fall to the stone surface. The mole tip-toed from his spot where the lovely Damson told him to wait and traveled deeper into the mine's core humming and tittering to himself.