The Trouble with Dwarfs

"Hen Wen!" the boy shouted, vaulting the stone fence between them and the farmhouse, only to be toppled onto his rear by the pig's joyful greeting as a dwarf dropped the gate and she raced into him. "Oh, Hen! Even Medwyn thought you were dead!" He threw his arms around the wriggly animal, who pranced all about him and nearly upon him, grunting happily.

She was an odd-looking creature, when you came to it, all stubby short legs and a body like a bristly barrel, with a ludicrous springy tail and great flaps for ears. It strained belief that she was as important as her reputation made her out to be, but even had Hen Wen been the lowliest of beasts, Eilonwy could not regret the quest - not while observing the unmitigated delight upon the face of the pig's keeper at this moment.

Taran, a pig-snout-smeared streak of dirt across his forehead, was laughing the most unreservedly joyful laugh she had ever heard from him. For once, the anxious lines were gone from his face; there was no irony, no bitterness, no teasing, no self-consciousness - just happiness so pure Eilonwy knew she'd have felt it through a wall. Sympathetic gladness poured over her like warm rain and she tingled with the untainted goodness of it. Had she ever felt that before? All her unease vanished like mist in the sunshine and she laughed aloud.

Taran rose and trotted back toward them, Hen Wen at his heels, both of them grinning. The pig sat politely when she reached the companions, wheezing a little, and Eilonwy reached out to scratch the white ears. The skin was tough and leathery underneath stiff white bristly hair. Petting her wasn't really all that pleasant, but she seemed content with it. "She looks like a wonderful pig," she said. "It's always nice to see two friends meet again. It's like waking up with the sun shining." Taran beamed at her, his eyes alight, and once again a rush of elation flooded over her.

"She's certainly a great deal of pig," Fflewddur added, "though very handsome, I must say."

Gurgi wriggled all over with joy. "And clever, noble, brave, wise Gurgi found her!"

Taran laughed, and ruffled the fur on the creature's head. "Have no fear. There's no chance we'll forget it." He turned to their dwarf guide and bowed. "Thank you. Thank all of you - for taking care of her, and for leading us here."

The captain sniffed, though his round face was rosy and his eyes twinkled. "Good riddance, I say. She eats enough in a day to feed one of us for a month. What Eiddileg was thinking I don't-" A loud harrumph from one of the other dwarfs interrupted him, and he broke off, as if realizing he'd spoken too freely, and cleared his throat. "Well, then. Now that that's settled, let's get you off. Your guide's waiting for you just across the fields there."

Their guide turned out to be another dwarf, a stocky, red-headed fellow in a leather cap and tall boots. He was hung about with a veritable armory, and his expression made his displeasure at his duty evident; but at least, Eilonwy noted, he was solid and real, with no tricky edges.

"This is Doli," the captain announced. "He'll be your guide all the way to Caer Dathyl, as Eiddileg promised." Several of the other dwarfs snickered, and Doli cast them vicious glances. Taran bowed, and the little fellow snorted, took a deep breath, and held it. The silence grew awkward.

The captain of the dwarf troupe stood silently, frowning in a resigned way, as though this were some sort of ritual only practiced because it was tradition, the reason for which nobody could remember. Doli's face was turning purple. It made her want to poke him in the ribs, just so he'd open his mouth and breathe. What could he possibly be doing?

Finally, just when she was about to say something she'd probably have regretted, the dwarf let his breath back out in a rush, and snorted in obvious indignation.

Taran looked bemused. "What's the trouble?"

"You can still see me, can't you?" Doli demanded. The companions exchanged puzzled glances.

"Of course I can still see you," Taran answered, frowning. "Why shouldn't I?"

The dwarf only snorted once more and angrily turned away, with a gesture to follow him far less rude, Eilonwy suspected, than the gesture he would have liked to make. Melyngar having been led up loaded with new gear and provisions, they all set off after their little guide. She could not escape the thought that they were rather like a group of clueless geese chasing an angry bee.

"What do you suppose is the matter with him?" Taran whispered to her presently, as they crossed the last field. Before them, a massive sheer cliff face loomed.

"I've no idea," she answered frankly, for she'd been trying to get a sense of the dwarf the whole time, and hitting nothing but hard mental walls. The Fair Folk consciousness was an alien one, to be sure, but she'd been able to get a general sense of them at least. Doli, however, might as well have been a stone.

They had reached the cliff face, and were staring at it in confusion, for there seemed nowhere else to go. Doli glared at them impatiently, and then jerked his head toward what looked like a crack in the rock. Taran took a step forward and uttered a cry of surprise. "Look! There's stairs - hidden right in plain sight!"

Eilonwy squinted, and also stepped forward - there! Yes, there were stairs, a steep, narrow flight of them that doubled back and forth over the cliff face and disappeared somewhere above, cunningly carved so that they blended into the rock itself and were nearly invisible until you were upon them. Fflewddur whistled. "That is Fair Folk cleverness, no mistake. I've heard of such things, but I've never seen them...and to tell you the truth, I don't much like the look of them." He glanced at Doli. "Are you sure they'll hold up under folks our size? Has a horse ever gone up before?"

The dwarf, not deigning to reply, rolled his eyes in disgust and proceeded up the stairs. Taran looked at Fflewddur and shrugged. "Perhaps it's the only way out. I'm sure they wouldn't send us if it were impossible."

Eilonwy frowned, not so sure, but as they didn't seem to have any choice, she fell into step dutifully behind Taran and Hen Wen, who was staying close to his legs.

The stairs were so steep that within a very few steps they were at what seemed a dreadful height, with not nearly enough space between their feet and the sheer drop over the edge. It was far worse than anything they had encountered in the mountains. Eilonwy pressed herself against the rock face to keep her head from spinning, and tried to concentrate on setting one foot above the other...one at a time, just one more step. Her companions were panting with the effort. Melyngar's hoofs slid on gravel and rang upon the hard stone; more than once she stumbled, bringing all their hearts to their mouths. Hen Wen wheezed and strained, and Taran frequently had to pull her up steps too tall for her. Only Gurgi seemed unconcerned; he bounded just behind the sulky dwarf, pausing only to scratch his ears, and shout encouragement to the rest of them.

The hairpin turns where the stairs doubled back on themselves were the worst, for you lost the cliff face to lean upon, and turning Melyngar fully around required her to practically whirl her hind legs over empty space. Fflewddur insisted on performing this task, waiting until the rest of them were several paces ahead before leading the horse around the narrow bend. His long face was pale, almost green, and he mopped it with a bright kerchief pulled from his sleeve after every turn; but he refused both Eilonwy's and Taran's offers to switch places so sharply that neither of them asked again.

Eilonwy almost wept with relief when they finally came to a place when the stairs turned and dove into a crack in the rock, a tunnel narrow and twisting, still full of steep stairs but at least away from that terrible sheer edge. Tunnels she was used to, and she tripped along cheerfully, pulling her bauble out and lighting it when the darkness grew too thick to see through. Doli, seeing the golden glow, glanced back in surprise, but said nothing.

At last the steps melted away into a stone path, and light and sound broke upon them as they emerged behind a waterfall. It was a delightful sight, but Doli gave them no time to enjoy it; he leaped over a series of boulders and beckoned them to follow.

Oh! But she breathed lighter in the open air! Up here where wood and leaf and stone and water were exactly what they seemed to be, and if there was magic in them it was the plain everyday sort that makes things grow and live and be. She wondered if the Fair Folk found the mortal realm as unnatural and off-putting as she thought theirs, or if it just seemed uninteresting and dull to them in comparison to the splendor below. But she'd probably never know. It was clearly no use asking Doli.

The dwarf squinted at the sun. "Not much daylight left. Don't think I'm going to walk my legs off all night, either. Didn't ask for this work, you know. Got picked for it. Guiding a crew of-of what! An Assistant Pig-Keeper. A yellow-headed idiot with a harp. A girl with a sword. A shaggy what-is-it. Not to mention the livestock. All you can hope for is you don't run into a real war band. They'd do for you, they would. There's not one of you looks as if he could handle a blade. Humph!"

Everyone stared at him in astonishment at this tirade, broken forth after such a long silence. Eilony recoiled as if she'd been struck. "Well, I like that!" she burst out. "Anyone would think we'd forced you to come! None of us asked to be sucked down that wretched lake, or treated like thieves and criminals, or nearly enchanted for a hundred years." From the corner of her eye she saw Taran and Fflewddur both making alarmed moves in her direction, and, anticipating them, took several steps forward and plowed on breathlessly. "For all the help you were getting us out of there you might as well have just pointed to the exit and stood aside. If you don't like guiding us you can just -"

Once again Fflewddur's long hand closed over her mouth, and she felt her shoulders gripped and pulled forcefully back. She glared angrily at the bard's face, but his expression was mild, his thin, wry mouth twitching. "You're about to use language," he murmured, "unbecoming for a young lady."

She threw his hands off irritably. "Oh, bollocks." Taran made a choking sound of restrained laughter and she ignored him. "I notice nobody's talking to him about unbecoming language. He just called you an idiot!"

"Yes, yes!" Gurgi growled. He had dropped to all fours, shaggy hair standing on end in a ridge down his back. "This creature is full of prickly, nasty words! Gurgi does not like him!"

Fflewddur cleared his throat and glanced at Doli, but the dwarf was already tromping away through the trees, completely ignoring her outburst. This was almost worse than his scorn, and, furious, she stooped to pick up a rock. Once again Taran and Fflewddur both made nervous, jerky moves toward her, but she turned to hurl it at a nearby tree and scowled at them. "I can't believe you're both just going to stand there and say nothing to him."

Taran shook his head, frowning, and pushed his thick hair back, his fingers tight with frustration. "We can't risk losing him as guide. We've no idea where we are now, and who knows what he'll do if we insult him?"

"It's not easy to overlook a slight, my dear," Flewddur added, "but it's a useful skill to learn. A Fflam is humble! And Taran is right. Our mission is more important than our pride."

They all gazed toward the dwarf's retreating back. He made no attempt to see that they were following. She stood, fists clenched, glowering at all of them. She wanted to scream and stand her ground, refuse to go anywhere with the little monster until he apologized. Several different hexes and curses suggested themselves to her - Achren had been good at curses, and Eilonwy was good at listening behind doors - but she didn't know any of them well enough, and anyway probably none of them worked on the Fair Folk.

Suddenly she felt utterly exhausted. All the tension and strain of the last several hours folded itself into a garment and dragged at her limbs, an invitation to collapse that was almost overwhelming. If she stood there a moment longer with everyone looking at her she'd fall down and burst into tears. And there was nothing worse than that. Not even following that creature.

She sniffed angrily, swiped at her eyes, and strode ahead, kicking pebbles and snapping twigs as loudly as she could. She thought she heard Fflewddur exhale a sigh of relief as she stomped past him.

Doli was now far ahead, and they had to trot to catch up. For a while they traveled in silence, as the dwarf seemed to have poured every drop of his verbal capacity into his complaint. Even his muttering had ceased, and he forged ahead without hesitation, following some path invisible to the rest of them.

After some time they paused at a cataract to splash their faces and drink. Eilonwy sat on a boulder, grateful for a chance to rest. The long walk had cooled her fury but she still felt no little animosity toward their diminutive guide, who was standing off to the side watching them all drink, and wearing an expression that suggested they were doing even that wrong.

Taran, having made sure Hen Wen had drunk her fill, sidled up next to the dwarf. "We're making good time," he observed, by way of friendly advance. Doli scowled at him, turned on his heel, and held his breath.

Not that again. "For goodness sake," Eilonwy cried, "I wish you'd stop that. It makes me feel as if I'd drunk too much water, just watching you."

The round cheeks puffed out in a huffy rush of air as their owner growled. "It still doesn't work."

She and Taran exchanged exasperated glances. "What is it you're trying to do?" the boy asked.

The others had come up and crowded about, watching the curious spectacle. Doli seemed suddenly conscious of all eyes upon him, and his pointed ears reddened. "What does it look like? I'm trying to make myself invisible."

They all digested this with open mouths. Eilonwy barely wrestled down a derisive snicker, and Fflewddur remarked, with a suspicious break in his voice, "That's an odd thing to attempt."

Doli flashed him an indignant red glare. "I'm supposed to be invisible. My whole family can do it." He snapped his fingers. "Just like that! Like blowing out a candle. But not me."

He turned and strode ahead, but continued airing his grievances to the atmosphere. "No wonder they all laugh at me! No wonder Eiddileg sends me out with a pack of fools. If there's anything nasty or disagreeable to be done, it's always 'find good old Doli.' If there's gems to be cut or blades to be decorated or arrows to be footed-that's the job for good old Doli!" He swung his axe at a nearby sapling, and the honed blade stripped a fine sliver of bark off in a single swipe. They heard him gasp, and knew he was holding his breath again. From a few paces behind, the girl saw his ears turning blue.

"I think you're getting it now," Fflewddur called cheerily. "I can't see you at all." There was a twang, and Eilonwy frowned at the crestfallen bard, who shook his head. "Blast the thing. I knew I was exaggerating somewhat, but I only did it to make him feel better. He actually did seem to be fading a bit about the edges."

Taran trotted a little faster to draw abreast of their guide. "You know," he panted, "if I could carve gems and do all those other things, I wouldn't mind not being invisible. All I know is vegetables and horseshoes. And not too much about either," he added.

Eilonwy, out of patience with their placative attempts, snorted without sympathy. "It's ridiculous to worry because you can't do something you simply can't do," she declared, eyeing Doli appraisingly. "It's worse than trying to make yourself...taller...by standing on your head."

It was a clean shot; the small-statured dwarf scowled at her in a way that was most satisfying, and said nothing more.

They continued in relative silence until it was too dark to travel, and camped in the shelter of trees upon the last shoulder of the mountains. Gurgi, who had also been watching when Taran had been instructing in fire-making, begged to be allowed to try it himself. To everyone's surprise, he was successful - and to their astonishment, he proceeded to divide the provisions from the Fair Folk in equal shares for all of them.

"No extra crunchings just for Gurgi?" Eilonwy teased him, when he trotted over and handed her a share of bread and cheese. His amber eyes twinkled in response to her grin.

"Gurgi has friends now," he said."The great lords and noble lady have shared and cared for him. And his cleverness has found a piggy. He is not alone now, no, not by himself to hide and hoard crunchings, and there is enough for all. And so he will even share with the small one who grumbles and mumbles." He threw a sidelong glance toward Doli, who sat on a rock a little further from the rest of them, but the dwarf turned his back on them, and held his breath.

Fflewddur waved a hunk of bread at him. "Keep at it, old boy! Another try might do it! Your outline looks definitely blurred."

"Oh, hush!" Eilonwy snapped, irritated beyond endurance. "Don't encourage him. He'll decide to hold his breath forever."

The bard sighed, and busied himself with his harp and mending tools. "Just lending support. A Fflam never gives up, and I don't see why a dwarf should."

Taran, sitting nearby, leaned over Hen Wen to whisper, "I wonder how long he's been trying to do it. Fair Folk live a long time, don't they?"

"They're immortal, more or less," she whispered back, "which makes him all the sillier. He's probably four hundred years old, and still having tantrums like a spoiled child. I don't know what all his fuss is about gem-cutting and sword-etching. It's what his kind are famous for. They love doing it."

Taran glanced over his shoulder at Doli, a trifle nervously, but the dwarf gave no sign that he could hear any of their whispers. "Perhaps he's weary of it. I get tired of hoeing turnips, and I've only done that for a dozen years."

"There's a world of difference between weeding a garden and jewelry-smithing," Eilonwy sniffed, "but I'm not staying up all night ferreting out the reasons for one old dwarf's nasty temper. I wish he would make himself invisible so we didn't have to look at him scowling all the time. It's like following a thunderstorm." She balled half her cloak beneath her head and sank into the earth wearily. Belin, it had been a long...had it only been a day? It felt like a week since they'd gone under the lake...and given the stories of the faery realm, there was no telling how long it had been. Perhaps they'd come to Caer Dathyl and find it a crumbling ruin.

Taran had spread his cloak a few feet away, and she heard him grunt as Hen Wen settled her great bulk next to him. The pig chortled and chuckled as she settled herself, and finally cradled her huge white head on the boy's shoulder, pinning him to the ground. He tried to move, but his arms flopped helplessly. Eilonwy giggled. "Does she always sleep next to you?"

"No," he said, in a strained tone, obviously insulted. "She has her own pen at home. She's just glad to see me, I suppose." He scratched at the white bristly ears, and the Hen Wen gurgled happily into his ear. "I'm glad to see you too, Hen. And I'm glad you're glad to see me. But I wish you wouldn't be so loud about it."

Eilonwy turned her head into her cloak, still grinning, and thinking that, in spite of crowding, it must be nice to have something warm and trusting curled next to you while you slept. She was almost asleep herself, when she realized that a ball of warm fur had curled itself into the small of her back, and draped a lean, whiskered head over her knees. Somehow, its wet wolfhound smell did not seem so terrible.

I apologize for the very long wait for this chapter. Thank you, anybody who is still reading, for your patience and faithfulness. I've had to work through some major writer's block where Doli was concerned, and finally realized the things I was turning into big issues didn't actually matter, and that I could use my own sense of bewilderment and ambivalence about his character as a decent stand-in for Eilonwy's. He really is terribly rude to them and not likeable at all until further in.

Just realized I am only a couple chapters now from the end! I'm a little amazed and a little sad. Fortunately, I still have four books' worth of time to cover after this. On we go...