After catching his breath and resting a while Tumdor set off through the trees towards the mountains beyond. He found the start of the mountain trail and began his ascent. The trail was easy at first. It wound up the mountain side, passing through green fields and over mountain streams. Tumdor could feel the fresh mountain air on his skin and stopped to rest at regular intervals, taking in the impressive views over the snow capped peaks. The higher he climbed the more difficult the trail became, snaking it’s way through the mountains over the Dead Man’s Knuckles, five mountains each getting ever higher and ever more perilous. Tumdor needed to scramble over rocks and edge his way around tight cliffs. His feet would falter occasionally sending rocks and rubble plummeting down the sheer mountainside. The trail became harder to follow, not many had set foot this high in the mountains before but Tumdor knew that if he could just make his was over the last peak that the going would get easier from there. It would be down hill again and an easier pass to the trading town of Dorview and a cosy Inn. Tumdor came to a particularly narrow ledge, his feet treading carefully along the narrow cliff edge. The icy wind whipped around in Tumdor’s cloak and la arge bird took off from a ledge over head sending rubble showering over him and rattling down the mountainside. Tumdor’s fingers clung to the jagged edges of the rocks. Another gust lifted Tumdor’s hat and he instinctively released his grip from the rock to catch it. Before he knew it he was falling. A thud into his side as he hit a branch half way down then a searing pain in his leg and his world went black.
Tumdor awoke sore, bruised and broken but a pleasant aroma of a home cooked stew filled his nostrils. The scent was too hard to resist. Despite the throbbing in his head, he opened his eyes and forced his aching body to sit up. He seemed to be in a large kitchen, in a small cage suspended from the wooden rafters that supported a thatched roof. His cage hung above an enormous wooden worktop which was littered with huge vegetables and open jars of herbs. In his cage he had been given a thimble of fresh water and he had been covered with an enormous sock for warmth but there was no sign of his pack or his wand. Was this an act of kindness? Or was it to keep him fresh before he was added to the stew? Tumdor heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming towards the door on the far side of the room and forced himself to his feet, his left leg sending pain shooting up his body. Through the door first came a shadow shortly followed by an elderly giant, he looked up towards the cage. His weather beaten features from a life spent in the mountains were home to his kind eyes which caught Tumdor’s eye.
‘Ah, you are awake!’ Muttered the giant, trying to keep his voice low as to not overwhelm Tumdor. ‘You were in quite the sorry state when I found you, you were lucky that I came along’.
‘Where am I?’ asked Tumdor.
‘Welcome to my home.’ replied the giant. ‘I know it’s simple but I have lived here happily for many years. My name is Harbrog, there used to be more of us; Fisbrog, Talsag, Blagfum. We had a whole village here but gradually they were gone and now I am the only one left.’ The giant’s eyes turned sad as he spoke but then his face lit up suddenly ‘Will you have some stew with me?’
‘Perhaps you could explain why you have locked me up first? Replied Tumdor.
‘It was for your protection I assure you’ explained the giant.
They sat together and enjoyed a hearty stew. Tumdor told of his quest and his journey so far; The troll at Swynfort, the Kraken at Beachwyn, How he had defeated the snake in the swamplands, met Saska and closed the gateway vortex. How he had found himself in the ancient caves and had headed into the mountains. Harbrog told of how his village had been threatened by a ‘dark fire beast’ and his friends had slowly abandoned the mountains and moved north to the Far Country. The two talked as the sun went down and the smouldering fire provided warmth from the hearth. Tumdor’s eyes grew heavy and he began to succumb to his tiredness when a sudden shrill screech pierced the air and the room was filled with a bright orange light and the crackle of the straw burning on the roof overhead.
‘The dark fir beast!’ cried Harbrog who dived under the stone stairway to take cover. Tumdor needed a spell but he still didn’t have his book or his wand.
‘My pack!?’ he shouted between the piercing screeches. Harbrog pointed toward a chest in the corner of the room. Tumdor rushed over to the large chest, burning straw and glowing embers falling from above. He forced his aching body to reach up to the lip of chest and pull himself up to peer inside. He could see his pack, which contained his book and his wand. He grabbed both without hesitation. There underneath his pack was a shard of the shattered crystal, he grabbed that too and eased himself back down. He flicked through his book for a suitable spell. As he rifled through the pages a bundle of burning straw fell from the roof high above and set the book ablaze. Startled, he threw the book to the floor and stamped on it to try to fight the flames. Once the fire was out he assessed the damage and several pages had been burned. He could no longer see what the effect of several spells would be. He tried to remember his time as an apprentice, the hours of practice and memorising the old tongue. He had some recollection of this spell but wasn’t sure if it would have the desired effect. He threw the ingredients together and mumbled the old words. The air around Tumdor swirled and then amidst the shrieks and the burning fire a sudden calmness descended and the room fell silent. The faint sound of beating wings and then the beast was outside the front door calm. Harbrog peeked out from his hiding place.
‘Is it over?’ he asked.
‘I have brought the beast under my spell’ explained Tumdor, ‘I must hurry as I don’t know how long it will last, and you must hurry if you wish to save what is left of your roof!’ With that Tumdor rushed towards the enormous front door getting there at the same time as Harbrog who opened it tentatively. There in front of the house was a dragon, black scales reflected the orange light coming from the burning roof and it’s red eyes gleamed bright against the night sky. Tumdor rushed over to the beast and commanded it to lift him onto his back.
‘Goodbye my friend’ called Tumdor.
‘Thank you and good luck!’ cried Harbrog as the great dark fire beast flapped its large wings, took flight, and disappeared into the cold night air.
* Pictures are used for educational purposes only.
