The Misadventures of Ka-Ron the Knight (41 page)

All fingers pointed towards Keeth.

"Hello, Sheriff," Keeth bowed. "Sorry for the unsolicited arrival."

The Sheriff was an old man - quite a lot older than Keeth. He wore armor that even Ka-Ron had a problem identifying. His hat was of an unusual lining, folding into a triangle. In the center of the triangle was a hole, which appeared to have been placed there by a wandering bullet. He wore rusty leather and boots which appeared to be too big for his tiny feet. He was certainly odd.

"Why were you shooting at us?" Keeth tried to change the subject.

The Sheriff paused. "We thought you were a dragon."

"Stupid fool!" Keeth barked. "How many dragons do you know made out of wood?"

"Never saw a flying boat before." The Sheriff opened his mouth. A small dab of brown spit hit the deck.

"Charming," Molly whispered.

En-Don silently told Molly to keep her opinions to herself.

"Is this not Pleasant Hollow?" Ka-Ron asked.

"Sure is, miss."

"We came for some supplies."

The Sheriff laughed and slapped the sides of his pants. "Hot dog!"

"Where?" Dorian asked, looking around for an animal of some kind.

"I just meant to say you're the first customers of the season." The old man adjusted his unusual hat. "You going to buy a lot?"

"Perhaps," Keeth said.

"Going on a long journey?"

"Long enough," Ka-Ron added. The knight adjusted her dress top. Bouncing around on the ground had shaken a few things up inside her dress.

The Sheriff, hearing all that he had wanted to, walked over to the ship's guardrail, and waved his hand down to the people.

"Not to worry!" he shouted. "They're customers."

Everyone on board the
Argo
heard the people below cheer.

"Been a slow season," the Sheriff explained.

Keeth shook his head, trying his best to keep a straight face. It had indeed been several long seasons since the wizard had been in these parts - Things had changed.

After being left alone after the curious went about their business, Keeth had thought it best to start repairs. The
Argo
was an incredible machine which demanded constant attention. Grabbing his tool kit, the wizard ordered both company and crew off his vessel, kindly urging them all to seek enjoyment. Their trip to the sunken dwarf city would be a long and taxing one - better enjoy while the enjoyment was there.

While waiting at the ship's stern, Dorian had noticed a delightful millpond nearby. He so wanted to take a long swim and bath.

So, he waited.

Contrary to popular belief, the dwarf was the cleanest animal on the planet. They had carried the reputation of filth and grime because of their mining heritage. Find anyone deep in a coal mine, working thirty three cycles a sun, and he wouldn't smell like rose melons either.

As much as Dorian wished to do battle with a bar of soap, he waited for the proper time. This was important!

He was about to take off his clothing.

Bashful or not, he did not wish to be seen naked.

With Keeth waving him off, the dwarf was the last to leave the ship. Both Ka-Ron and Jatel had decided that it would be best to spend the day at the neighboring inn. It was a proper thing for the two of them to do. Even Dorian could see that. What better way for two who were so in love to spend a day away from their troubles, than to escape within a fine meal and company? What they were doing was a good thing.

En-Don, so concerned with his aging appearance, thought it best that he and Molly retreat to the countryside. They wanted some time alone to explore life's possibilities. This last made Dorian grin and giggle while traveling down the mud road towards the millpond. He wished that he was once more young and in love.

Dorian took a long and saddening breath.

Then there was&Rohan.

At the mere thought of the elf, Dorian started to sweat. He shook his head, realizing that it was not within his power to have the impossible. He didn't even know if he had the instincts to allow it!

The elf had approached him with a troubled face before he had known of the millpond. When asked what ailed him, Rohan had brought up the fact that Dorian had been avoiding him since their encounter with Voslow. Dorian shook his head guiltily, stating that the elf was not in error. Bending down, Rohan placed his hands upon Dorian's shoulders. His elfin eyes never left those of his comrade's.

"I am your friend, true," Rohan had told him. "Please, inform me of the wrong I have subjected you to, and I shall endeavor to rectify it."

Dorian had nothing to say.

"Please, dear friend," Rohan insisted. "Speak."

"I was ashamed of my performance at our last battle," Dorian stated.

"How so?"

"I just was."

Rohan laughed. It was indeed a sweet, magical, sound.

"Dorian, should anyone question your honor at Mull Garden, they will have to face my wrath. And that, my friend, will be their sorriest day. Of this, I resolutely swear."

Dorian accepted Rohan's pledge, and the wound was healed.

At least, that is what Rohan believed.

Dorian, for the first time in his life, had lied.

The wound was still there, and the pain of it was slowly killing him.

A cool wind whisked passed the dwarf's nose as he reached the millpond.

"So!" Dorian huffed. He found himself rubbing his hands together in excitement. "Here you are."

The pond was beautiful. Long abandoned, a factory of some kind lay to its west side. He had been told by a local that the factory had been closed when a husband had been suspected of killing his wife. The children of the village feared the old ruin, thinking the place haunted. Haunted buildings did not bother dwarfs, for they were all kin to ghostly spirits. As long as they allowed the dwarfs to do what they wanted, and posed no harm, the ghosts could haunt in peace.

Several black ducks, with their ivory beaks clamping shut, made disturbing noises as Dorian slowly took off his robes and clothing.

"Ahh! Too many straps!" the dwarf griped.

Keenly, his eyes moved, and he scanned everywhere. He did not want or need an audience.

Knowing that he was completely alone, Dorian walked out upon a wooden dock and jumped into the pond.

He was in heaven.

Rohan stood amongst the trees, listening to their stories. Few creatures in the world could understand the language of the trees like the elfin folk. He was amazed at the rich and full sagas to which the trees made him privy. One would think that the people of
Pleasant Hollow
had no lives, nor had they ever lived. People from huge cities and literal cultures often judge small town souls as "wanting" or "ignorant." To a certain amount of shame, Rohan had assumed as much after their encounter with the Sheriff. But, according to the trees, the law provider of this land was indeed an accomplished man. The Sheriff would, from time to time, walk out into the deep woods and sing. The trees shared a few of the songs with the elf, and indeed, they were noble and beautiful pieces, to be sure.

It was good to take time again to hear the sounds of nature. To be one with the world again. Reluctantly, on his travels, Rohan had forgotten to pay homage to his origins. This had been a mistake.

She waits for you!

Rohan opened his eyes.

"What?"

The trees turned soft. There was nothing in the wind, but the wind.

The elf turned his eyes up to the trees surrounding him.

"Why would you say such a&"

Before Rohan could finish the sentence, he heard a howl fill the air. Someone was having wonderful fun, and the volume of that person's joy caught the elf's full attention.

"This I must see."

So involved was Rohan that he could not bring himself to listen back at the trees. They, in their flocks, were rejoicing!

Rohan had ventured down a mud road, towards a millpond. At the millpond's center was Dorian, naked, swimming like a duck. The dwarf was in delight, spitting streams of water from his mouth, tickling his toes as he floated on his back, and picking dirt out of his ears with great delight. Never had the elf seen Dorian so happy or content.

"There's something you do not see every day," Rohan stated, his face beaming with surprise. In his whole life, he had never seen a dwarf near water, let alone submerged in it.

Dorian's world had been reduced to the hollow hum of the millpond's cold waters floating in his ears. It was a delight for him to finally be clean&to float, feeling lighter than air, and play as if he were young once more.

Little did the dwarf realize that he had an audience.

After a few quacks of a nearby black duck, Dorian squirmed, splashing in the water frantically.

Dorian realized that he was no longer alone.

"Who's there?"

Having cleared his throat, Rohan walked into the moonlight. Night was upon them all, and it was becoming more and more difficult to see. Only the light reflecting from the pond seemed to aid them.

"Dorian, it is I, Rohan."

The dwarf sank below the water, only showing himself from the nose and above.

"Do not bother me, elf," Dorian barked. "This is a private moment."

"It looks like a swim to me, dear friend."

Rohan took off a shoe and dipped a toe into the water. He shook his head as the millpond met with his own approval.

"A swim," the elf mused. "It has been a long time."

"What are you doing, now?"

Rohan gave his dwarfish friend a concerned look. Dorian was practically screaming. A hairy hand splashed out of the water silently begging the elf to stay where he was.

"Dear friend, what panics thee?" Rohan couldn't help but react comically to the total fear Dorian was projecting. He had known bashful people in his time, but the dwarf took the prize.

Dorian's eyes became white specks magnified by an unknown terror.

Rohan was taking off his clothes.

"Stay where you are, elf. I warn thee!"

Dorian started to splash violently in the water, doing his best to appear both dangerous and meaningful in his anger. Rohan could only laugh. The dwarf only managed to look like a wet fur ball.

"I am going to swim with you on this night, my friend," Rohan stated, folding up his clothes. "Get used to it."

"But&but&but&" Dorian stammered, almost to the point of tears, "you'll be naked."

"The same as you, my friend." Rohan said, "Nothing to be ashamed of."

"Ashamed?" Dorian's voice started to tremble.

Rohan jumped into the water and dove under its dark secrets.

At first, the elf indulged in the calm, cold, and wet universe the millpond had to offer. He swam around in circles, paying little attention to the violent splashes coming from Dorian's side of the pond.

Opening his eyes, Rohan tried to spot his friend, but the water was both too dark and dirty to see more than a few sticks in front of him. Several fishes swam up, popped their mouths open, and flipped notice towards the elf, reminding him that he was just a visitor to this world.

In the distance, however, a form took hold of his attention.

Dorian!

The elf had a playful thought. He would sneak up on his dwarfish friend, pinch him on the bum, and help him overcome his bashful fear of sharing millponds with friends.

This will teach him
&

Rohan almost lost his breath from laughing at the thought of Dorian's wrath, once he ended up pinching him. Still, it was all in good honest fun. Rohan was doubly sure that after his anger subsided, Dorian would see the comedy in such a thing.

Something appeared odd.

And what is this?

Dorian seemed to sense Rohan's approach. The tiny dwarf seemed to have added energy, because he was splashing and kicking with great agitation. The dwarf was sincerely serious in guarding his privacy, of that Rohan was certain.

As the elf drew closer he gasped in horrific surprise.

In front of him, floating in the water, were two breasts&

And, when he looked lower, there was a&

Like an arrow from a bow, Rohan shot out of the water. He choked on the water he breathed into his lungs, and caused such a ruckus that all the black ducks squawked and flew away in fear. Fighting the pain in his chest, the elf turned slowly to face his friend.

Dorian floated in the water, remarkably still. His face showed shame, and his eyes were lowered.

Her secret was out.

"Dorian," Rohan said, his voice that of a whisper, "you're a&"

"Woman!" Dorian shouted. "And the next time a dwarf orders you not to jump in a lake with them, damn it, listen!"

In the entire Nown world, it was widely accepted that Dwarfs were born from the earth, which they mined, after sprouting forth as free spirits of rock and nature. Never had it been said the dwarf race had any women in it. But Rohan knew what he had seen, and through Dorian's roughness, long beard, and voice, he was plainly a SHE.

The elf continued to stare at his friend with terrified wonder.

"You are a woman," Rohan whispered to the dwarf.

Dorian sat in the mud, mortified. Tears streamed down her face and glistened in the top layers of her beard. This was such a disastrous thing. What was she to do? How could she face her peers, knowing that such a sacred thing had been broken?

"Rohan," Dorian cried. "What have you done?"

Things started to add up and make sense to the elf.

The exaggerated ways in which Dorian had felt protective, the comical sarcasm, and of course, the constant staring. Rohan had felt a peculiar "something" in the air for lunas now. That unspoken electricity one could never put a finger on, which hinted sometimes towards friendship. A strong pulling of wills, which, until Dorian's secret came into focus, had to be sidestepped - feelings that could not be labeled. Now, things were as crystal clear as the dawn.

Dorian was "interested" in him.

"A dwarf in love with an elf." Rohan mildly chucked at the sheer rarity of the situation. "Who would have believed?"