Author: Cynthia Echterling
He had a decision to make. He could run back and stay alive, but that would mean disappointing Ullulli and getting a beating from his father for running off, and being laughed at by his clan, and spending the rest of his long, dwarfish life being pummeled and ridiculed and called pustule and waiter. The other choice was to be torn limb from body and be eaten by Trolls. There was a third possibility. He could kill the Trolls, find the treasure, be a hero and have girls swoon at the sight of him, but that was hardly worth considering possible.
Dwarfs do not, among their many talents, rate high in there ability to make decisions. And Utti was definitely a Dwarf. His brain froze up, and scrambled for something to do, something routine and normal that didn't involve deciding anything, but there was nothing normal or routine for him to do. So his brain tried to moved on into its own strange territory, taking tiny, tiny, steps. He decided to put out most of the torches so the Trolls might not see him. That was easy enough. Then he decided to put on his helm in case they came down the tunnel and tried to bash in his scull with one of the great clubs that Trolls were reported to carry. Then he thought about putting on the armor, but it was so heavy, he'd never be able to run away with it on. Then his hands wanting to stay busy, as Dwarf hands do, began taking the armor apart. He took off all the beast boots and draped the chain vest around his body to protect him from spears if Trolls had any spears. Then he decided to drink beer and he felt better having done that.
Pleased with his decisions thus far, he decided he would try deciding something else. Maybe he could sneak quietly toward the Troll's lair, just so he could honestly say he had seen one and then run home. Maybe he could even be brave enough to let them chase him. Surely, he could outrun a Troll especially since he was rather thin and quick-footed for a Dwarf. Maybe he could even get wounded. That wouldn't be so bad. He could tell the Clan he had fought with Trolls. There would be honor in that. And! If he got himself wounded, the wound would heal into a scar. Surely girls liked scars. Perhaps he could come out of this with his Dwarfin honor and his life! So that was his decision. He would go on and, even though he couldn't get a treasure, he could get himself a wound! Hopefully just a small one, in a place where girls could see it.
So he had to move forward. He decided to push the cart closer too so that he'd have something to hide behind and something to block the Trolls' path while he ran away. If he moved quietly closer, he thought, he could hear the Trolls better and possible learn how many there were and what sort of mood they were in. So closer he got. He took the cart as near as he could get without risking being heard, all the while thanking the Dwarf who had greased the wheels. He could hear the Trolls talking now. There were at least three, maybe four. Sometimes they were laughing, but he couldn't make out what they were laughing about. He decided to leave the cart and get closer. Besides, by now, he had decided he really, really wanted to see a Troll. He decided to take his meat spit spear with him in case they attacked him before he was ready to run. He hung as many of the beast boots on his belt as he could bear the weight of, thinking they'd be good for throwing. Then he patted the chains across his chest, hoping it was true about Trolls fearing iron.. Slowly and quietly he moved as close as he dared to the entrance of their cave.
He could see them now silhouetted against the light of their fire, There were four and they were large! Larger than Manfolk they were and very hairy all the way down to their large bare feet. One moved passed the entrance and he caught a glimpse of a face. It had large, bulging, vacant eyes and a huge nose and the sharpest faangs he had ever seen on any creature. They were the kind of fangs that would be perfect for ripping Dwarf flesh from Dwarf bone. He thought about retreating then, but his legs wouldn't move.
“Me hungry!” shouted one. Utti could hear him shuffling around picking through what made the obvious sound of bones hitting together. And he could smell the stench of rotten flesh grow stronger as the Trolls ripped what meat they could from them. They chewed loudly, grunting and smacking their lips. He didn't want to see what creature's bones they were. “Me hungry!” He heard again. More searching through bones.
“Ain't no meat!” This didn't sound good for Utti's survival.
He heard a Troll sniff through its huge nose. “What me smell?”
Another sniffed. “Me no smell.”
Then the first one shouted, “You fart?” followed by arguing and fighting and laughing again. Utti thought maybe Trolls weren't really much different than the members of his Clan and was somewhat encouraged by that thought.
“No! Me no smell fart!” More Troll noses sniffing. “Me smell... Sniff, sniff! Dwarf!”
Then they all shouted at once. ”Dwarf! Where! No Dwarf! Me smell it! Find it! Get it! “
Utti couldn't even breath now! Suddenly getting a wound didn't seem like such a good idea. But before he could get his body to run, the Trolls burst forth through the entrance of the cave into the tunnel.
“Dwarf!” one roared.
“Skinny dwarf!” said another.
“Yummy Dwarf!” shouted still another
“Meat”! Shouted the fourth and rushed forward, then stopped. He stared wide-eyed at Utti, who stared wide-eyed back. The Troll halted, then backed away and pointed at the fear-frozen Dwarf, its grizzly claw trembling. “It got that!” He was pointing at the cast iron meat spit.. Utti found enough strength to bring it up threateningly and hold it steady.
The first Troll pushed the frightened one to the side. “Aagh, stick! P'tooey!” he spat. “Me hungry!” He roared ferociously and charged toward Utti. Utti stood his ground, not that he wanted to, but his legs couldn't move. The huge Troll leaped at him, arms out, claws ready, mouth gaping, fangs drooling! Then he shrieked in sudden agony as the meat spit pierced his eye, splattering Utti with eye gore and blood. The troll staggered back into the cave, clawing at the meat spit embedded in his face.
Some stunned part of Utti's brain kept repeating, I killed a Troll! I killed a Troll! I killed a Troll! But in that time, the other Trolls had recovered from the shock of it and roared with anger. Utii now spitless, looked around for another weapon. He had none. He pulled the helm off his head and, holding it by the leather straps, swung it around. As the Trolls charged, he bashed the first one in the head sending brains and splinters of bone flying. There was more bone than brain.
Utti's own brain was still chanting to itself, I killed a Troll! But what it should have been chanting was, I killed two of the stupidest Trolls under Earth. The other two, relatively speaking, were fairly smart. They had learned that charging this Dwarf meant death and they moved slowly around behind him, blocking his retreat. Moving forward they forced Utti into the cave, where, having heard all the screaming, reinforcements had arrived, hoping the shouting meant time for dinner. They were surprised to see the dinner fighting back, but still they shouted “Meat! Dwarf!” and drool dripped from their fangs.
Slowly they surrounded him and began to close in, then they all stopped and started to quiver uncomfortably. They shouted at him, angry and surprised that a being so small could cause them so much discomfort. They backed away scratching themselves, rubbing their faces and pointing at the chains wrapping Utti's chest. Ullulli was right! They were allergic!
The Trolls posted two guards armed with clubs at the entrance to block Utti's escape. The others gathered together whispering and grumbling, planning whatever strategy Trolls were capable of planning to get their dinner unwrapped. Utti took the opportunity to look around for weapons, but saw nothing but the bones of other Dwarfs. He forced himself not to vomit and moved slowly to the other side of the fire. On the opposite side of the cave from the Trolls, he say a large mound covered with smelly hides. He didn't care how bad they smelled, it was something to put between himself and the Trolls. He crouched behind it waiting.
The Trolls having finished their discussion moved forward, guessing that he was behind the only object in the cave large enough to hide a Dwarf. There leader stepped forward. “Hey Dwarf!” he called, trying to sound pleasant, but not succeeding. “You come out now. We not gonna hurt you.”
“Rat's asses you're not!” Ulli shouted and threw a beast boot hard as he could. It sailed through the air toward the leader, but he ducked and it thudded against the chest of the Troll behind him and fell clanking on the stone floor. The troll screamed and grabbed at his chest while he backed away from the iron object in front of him. The beast boot may have bruised him and made him uncomfortably itchy, but it didn't stop him. It only made all the Trolls angrier and they all came rushing toward him at once.
Utti decided, that if he wanted to stop them, he'd have to aim higher..This time, he did hit one in the head and knocked him to the floor unconscious. The next whizzed passed a Troll's ear and clanked against the cave wall. He would have to aim more carefully. He managed to knock out two more Trolls, but now he had only one beast boot left. He decided he would throw it then run fast as he could for the now unguarded entrance. He threw and ran, but didn't make it to the entrance before the Trolls ripped a hide off the pile and threw it on top of him, then pinned him to the floor.
He heard their leader's voice close to his ear. “We got skin on you, Dwarf!” He said Dwarf like it was something nasty. “You no burn us we got skin on you.” Then they all laughed.
Utti's brain was telling him, you're dead, and he laid very still.
“You no trick me, Dwarf! The leader said. “I hear you...” and he breathed heavily in Utti's ear, imitating his frightened panting.” Utti swallowed hard and waited to find out how he was going to die.”
“Me tell you, Dwarf, we not gonna hurt you. You be nice, no fight!” He felt the weight of them come of his back and slowly he sat up. The leader pulled the hide off his head, but kept his body wrapped to protect the Trolls from the hideous iron chain. The leader was looking him in the face, smiling, his tongue licking his fangs. He could have fit Utti's whole head in his mouth, but he didn't.“You give gold, me let you go.”
He'd heard it rumored, but never knew with certainty, that Trolls loved gold almost as much as Dwarfs. Knowing it, didn't do him much good now and he really didn't believe they would keep any promise about letting him go. “I don't have any gold.” he told the Troll honestly, trying not to sound as frightened as he was.
The leader pointed at the mound of hides. “That gold!”
The other Trolls carefully pulled the hides off the mound he'd been hiding behind. There in front of him in the firelight, glowed a chest covered in copper decorated with gold and silver, encrusted with jewels and bound with iron chains. Mesmerized, all the Trolls including the leader, said, “Aaahh!” Utti quickly closed his burning eyes and pulled the shades from around his neck to cover them. The leader turned on him, but sensing no danger, just stared. “Dwarf, you look stupid.” and he laughed in Utti's face. Utti almost passed out from the stench. The leader dragged him to his feet and pulled him toward the glowing treasure almost lifting him off the floor. He pointed at the chest. “That! You get it off!” Utti didn't comprehend. “Get what off.!”
The leader moved closer, but not too close and pointed again. “That!” He was pointing at the iron chains. Then he turned back and squatted down to stare at his diminutive captive. He pointed his filthy claw in Utti's face . “You do, or you dinner.” and to make his point, he raked his claw down Utti's nose. It hurt, but Utti didn't scream. Inside his brain was saying, I got my wound, can I leave now?
The Troll shoved Utti toward the chest. Utti studied it closely. It was heavier chain than what he had wrapped around his own chest and it was locked with a strong lock that was Dwarfish craftsmanship and Dwarf locksmiths were the best there ever was. There would be no way to unlock it without the key.
Utti stood up and faced the Trolls. “Do you happen to have the key?” They looked at each other. None of them even knew what a key was. “It's a small thing that fits in that hole on the front of the lock.” They still didn't comprehend. “Well, without the key, I can't take that off.”
The leader stared at him, smiled and shrugged. “Well then, we gonna eat you!” The Trolls shouted for joy and rushed forward.
“Wait!” Utti shouted. “There's another way!” The leader held up his claw to stop them. They groaned disappointed, but they stopped. “What way?” he asked.
“Um, do you have anything sharp that can cut through iron?” Utti knew when he said it, that he was wasting his breath. The Trolls looked around, but there was nothing but sticks and bones. They all looked at Utti and started to drool. Utti thought quickly and found that he was more clever than he had ever thought possible. “I may have something in the cart.” He wasn't lying. He did have something in the cart. He never said it was something that cut through iron. The Trolls didn't know what a cart was. He pointed toward the entrance. “Out there.”
The leader grabbed him by the arm again and dragged him toward the entrance. “You lie, I bite you head off!” he warned. But there, as Utti had said, was this thing called a cart.. They hurried toward it, but were stopped by the iron hubs on the wheels. They groaned and called Utti names he didn't understand, but which sounded really bad. “You trick us!” the leader shouted.
“No, no, no!” Utti shouted back. His shouting sounded more like a squeal compared to the Trolls booming voice. “Inside the cart. I need to look to see if there's something to cut the chain.” He didn't consider that a lie. He would look..
The leader shoved him toward the cart almost throwing him. “You look fast. You slow, you tasty!”
Utti took of his shades so he could see in the darkness of the tunnel, then pulled his aching body up into the cart and started to look around. He felt inside the bag with the long cups and found what was left of his provisions.
“You got cutter?” The leader called.
“I haven't found one yet, but I found this. He threw the barley bread and marmot jerky toward the Trolls. They ignored the bread, but scrambled after the jerky, fighting each other for it.
Ullulli had told him that the long cups when broken were sharp as blades, but fragile. He hoped fragile enough to break against Troll hide and sharp enough to do them damage. As the Trolls fought for the last of the jerky, he ducked down bellow the side of the cart, then grabbed the long cups and started to throw. Some hit their targets some shattered against stone. He couldn't really tell in the darkness if he was cutting any Troll flesh, but he could hear them screaming.
He peeked over the side of the cart. The leader was down, lifeless. He had only thrown three of the long cups, but all the Trolls were screaming and running back into the cave. He waited. There screaming and cussing faded away. They were heading down another tunnel away from the accursed Dwarf. Still Utti waiting, thinking they had only gone for reinforcements and soon Trolls would be pouring out of the cave after him. But now the torches in the cave were beginning to sputter. He had to hurry. He covered his eyes with the shades again, ran to the entrance and peered inside. There were only the bones of his brethren, the glowing chest and shadows dancing in the flickering torchlight. He lighted one of the torches he had brought and replaced one of the burned out brands on the wall. He would have to hurry before the light faded or the Trolls returned.
The chest was too heavy for him to lift and the chain was too tight for him to get his hands behind. He unwrapped the chain around his body, and passed it through the links of the larger chain in several place. With that, and much heaving and grunting, he was able to drag the chest to the cart. Then he realized there was another problem – how to get the chest into the cart. He climbed painfully into the cart and tried to pull the chest up with the chain. He gave one mighty heave and fell on his rump against the hinge on the tailgate that was lying on the floor of the cart. He laid there rubbing his butt with one hand and wiping sweat from his eyes with the other. That's two wounds, said Utti's brain. But that one was in a place he wouldn't want just any girl to see. Then Utti's brain thought up another idea.
Utti pushed the wooden gate down from the cart and rested one end on the ground. Thankfully the cart had been built wide and low to the ground so that it could be hauled through low spaces. The tailgate was long enough to make a sloping ramp up to the floor of the cart. To help the chest along, Utti scraped grease off the hubs and axles and spread it as best he could over the boards. He found some flattish rocks and pushed them under the front wheels to keep the cart from rolling and climbed back up into the cart. Then with much groaning and heaving and swearing, he gradually pulled the heavy chest into the cart. He covered it with the hide that the Troll had wrapped him in and laid on the floor of the cart panting, waiting for his sweat to dry. Now began the long and arduous task of pushing the gold heavy cart back down the tunnels to home.
When he'd recovered his breath, he slid himself out of the cart and fell to the ground. Hanging on to the wheels, he hauled himself up. He tried to push the cart. It didn't budge. In his exhaustion he had forgotten about the rocks he had placed under the wheels. But it wouldn't have matter, rocks or no, he could not have pushed the cart. He leaned against it, and stared down the tunnel. Somewhere down there after many twists and turns was home and his brain told him, I'll never see it again.
As he stared down the tunnel, he thought, no knew he saw a light. It grew larger, larger, then divided into two lights, then the two divided into four and they bobbed around and grew even larger. I'm seeing things, his brain said, my vision is failing me and I'm going to die. At this point, he was too exhausted to fight it. He rested his head against the cart and waited for the inevitable, which would happen some day, but not that day. Just as he was seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, others were seeing his light and they were no Trolls.
“Heigh ho! Young Short Beard!” The voice roused him. It sounded like Ullulli.
He thought that now he was hearing things, but answering the hail of another Dwarf was instinct to him and he called back as loudly as he could manage, “Heigh Ho! Old, Long Beard!” His call wasn't very loud, but it was heard and in response came “Utti!” The voice was tinny, echoing through a metal nose. His father! “My Son!”
Then came the sound of many voices. “It's Utti! We found him! Hoorah! It's about time! I'm hungry!” The voices came louder and the torchlights came brighter and he forced himself to rise and meet them.
“It's Utti! Where have you been! Are you alright! Hey, that's my cart! Ah, shut it!” They grabbed at him and shined torches over him. “Oh My Earth Gods! He's covered in blood! You've killed him, you old fool!”
“It's not my blood” Utti mumbled. “Well, most of it isn't.”
“What are you talking about! What have you done!” It was his father.
“I killed Trolls.”
“You killed a Troll!” Ugli, Silver Nose shouted.
Then all the voices said, “He killed a Troll! Who did? Utti did! Naw! Not Utti! Baaa! P'tooey!”
“Trollsssss” Utti muttered, stressing the plural. “At least three. I lost count.”
“He says he's killed three Trolls! Impossible! He's delirious! He's seeing things!.Laughter.”
Utti raised his arm, heavily and pointed toward the cave, then let it drop, to weak to hold up his own hand. The crowd moved with their torches to where he had pointed. There lay the Troll leader with shards of long cup still stuck in his face. “It's a Troll alright!' someone shouted and they moved on into the cave. Utti heard them shouting to each other from inside. “Here's another! And another!”
Ullulli moved to his side and dabbed at the slash on his nose. “I got a wound!” Utti said slowly, finding it hard to form words.
“Yes, you did!” Ullulli answered, patting healing herbs onto it.
“It'll scar. Girls....” Then he passed out.
…
Utti woke up. His head on a pillow, his body on a sheet. They weren't very clean, but they smelled like him. He was home in his own bed! His father was there with barley gruel sweetened with apples. Utti was starving. Ugli tried to feed him, but fed more of the gruel to his beard than his mouth. Utti sat up slowly. His body still ached and his nose still stung, but he was able to feed himself and ask for more.
“Utti, my son, you gave me such a fright!” He told Utti how Ullulli had come and before anyone could beat him for it, he had told them where Utti had gone. “And you didn't come back when he expected. We came as fast as we could. I was afraid we'd find you..” He couldn't bring himself to say the word.
“They wanted to eat me.” Utti told his father and the older Dwarf stroked his beard and nodded seriously. Then Utti remembered. “The treasure!”
“Yes it's here.” Ugli reassured him. “And I have the key. I have kept it all these years, passed on to me from my father. He made me swear to keep it, should the treasure ever be found again.”
“What was in the chest?”
“We haven't opened it,” Ugli told him. “We've been waiting for you.”
When Utti was strong enough, Ugli and Ullulli helped him out of bed . He pulled on his breeches, belted his tunic and even put on shoes. His father combed and braided his hair for him and Utti fluffed up his beard, what little of it their was to fluff. Then they went together to the Great Hall where all of Spaltfolk had assembled and they cheered him as he entered. They had all heard the story of Utti and his quest from Ullulli and this time they actually listened. Now they wanted to hear Utti tell of his battle with the Trolls. Being unaccustomed to speaking before all the assemblage of Spaltfolk and being naturally shy, he kept it short.
Then came the moment they had all waited for, the opening of the chest that was covered in copper and decorated with gold and silver and jewels and bound with an iron chain. Ullulli had made for them all, shades in green and brown and smoke, so they were ready when the hide was removed. The chest glowed brightly in the torchlight and every Dwarf in the hall said, “Ahhhh!”
Then Ugli Silver Nose brought out the key he had kept hidden, showed it to the throng and handed it ceremoniously to his son. Utti smiled sheepishly at the people then worked the key into the lock and turned it.. The lock clicked inside and opened. All the Dwarfs in the hall held their collective breath. Ugli and Ullulli removed the iron chain. Now they paused, staring at the chest.
“Open it!” Ugli urged his son.
“No, father, you do it!”
“Let Ullulli do it,” Ugli suggested.
“Oh no, not I.” Ullulli backed away.
The crowd shouted, “Get on with it already! Yeah! We can't hold our breath forever, ya know! Come on!”
They decided they would all three open it together. “They tried lifting the lid slowly, but the chest had been sealed for lifetimes of Dwarfs and resisted being opened, so they pushed harder. The lid opened fully with a swooshing of air and the three of them nearly fell into the chest. Despite there shades, out of habit, all the dwarfs shielded their eyes. But no overpowering golden glow emanated from the chest. Utti lowered his hands and looked, There was no golden glow and no gold either. There was a faintly shimmering silver light flickering inside the chest. It was like the glow of moonlight on dew drenched barley fields when they first come into head. It was not an overpowering light, but a calming, mesmerizing softness and with it came a scent that wafted into his nose and his memory. It brought back magic nights in the Above Land, seeing stars and watching rabbits dance in moon-glow, and the scent of fruit and flowers, herbs and pine, and it soothed him into a gentle sleepiness.
Utti touched the little...what were they cones, flowers? They wee light and rustling and when he withdrew his hand, they left on him a powder that bore the wondrous scent. “What are they?” he asked.
“I know not, but they make me feel nice.” Said his father. Immune to their scent, he was still affected by their soporific qualities.
“Oh my, oh my!” sighed Ullulli. “I haven't seen such since I was a boy.” But instead of lapsing into a tale, he simply said, “they're hops.”
“Hops?” asked Ugli, “Like toads and frogs?”
“No, Hops like...well, hops. You make beer with them.”
“No I don't!”
Utti remembered, the scent from the long cups. It smelled something like these – hops, but paled in comparison. “Yes, father. You may not, but others do.”
Ugli put his hands on his hips and challenged them, “Well then, if not beer, what is what I've been making!” The crowd of Dwarfs had many names for it and none of them were beer.
Ullulli held up his hands to silence them. “What you have been making, Good Ugli is...” The assemblage of dwarfs leaned forward, hushed, ready to hear, “Troll repellant!”
“Troll repellant!” shouted Ugli.
Before anyone could laugh, Ullalli shouted out, “Search your memories, all of you! Has anyone seen or smelled or seen sign of Trolls before Utti quested them out?”
The answer came back resoundingly “No!” with a few “I dunnos” and “Well surely there must'ves” followed by the sound Dwarfs make when someone elbows them in the stomach.
“Has there been an attach by Trolls on any of our Clan in your lifetimes?”
“This time the shout was unanimous except for one old dwarf who said, “eh, what'd he say?” and who was immediately pummeled on the head, flattening his cap and making him cross. Everyone else had gotten the gist of what Ullulli was saying and began chanting. “Hurrah! Ugli Silver Nose! Repeller of Trolls!” and “Hurrah! Ugli Silver Nose! Protector of the Clan!” Ugli, now assured that his honor had not been besmirched, stood heroically his thumbs tucked in his belt, his broad belly thrust out, nodding proudly.
Then the crowd shouted, “Hurrah for Young Utti, Troll Slayer!” and “Hurrah for Young Utti, Hop Finder!” Utti bowed to them and as he looked up, noticed that girls were winking at him. His face reddened, but he smiled back.
On a roll, the crowd shouted, “Hurrah for old Ullulli! Uh...Not such a bad guy after all!” And that was enough for him.
Utti whispered to Ullulli, “Does this mean you're not a prisoner any more?”
“Prisoner?” Ullulli echoed. “Oh, that was just an ruse so I wouldn't have to put up with that rabble any more.” But now with the future holding the promise of good beer, Ullulli foresaw a day when the Spalts would be less cranky and, with hope once again in their hearts, possibly even cleaner. That day the Clan celebrated eating and dancing and singing and drinking anything that wasn't Troll repellant, But they longed most heartily for their first taste of true beer.
Now there was work to be done. There was a place for someone who could read the old runes well and Ullulli set to pouring over dusty manuscripts in the brewery. With Ugli and Utti overseeing tasks, hop seeds were separated and plantlings started and in the spring a new crop blessed the valleys 'round Mount Frothbeard. They tended dutifully to them and when they had grown, separated them, male and female. When they grew tall, they planted poles for the vines to climb. Ugli took lead in the growing and the fertilizing for that did not require the having of a nose. When the first hop crop was harvested, Utti, having learned to read, and having studied under Ullulli, and having learned of the workings of the tanks and vats and pipes and barrels from his father, was ready to take on the roll of Brewmaster to the Spalt.
Then came the day when the beer was ready and Utti filled their tankards and flagons and cups then waited. This time he was not cursed and called pustule and maggot. The clan was silent. Their heads were filling with memories of nights in the Above World, watching rabbits dance in moon silver drenched barley and the smells of fruit and flowers and herbs and pine.
Then there rose up a cheer “Hurrah! Utti Brewmaster of the Spalt!” and this time the cheer was completely unanimous.! And so in the end, the Spalt became a peaceable folk as once they had been in days long gone, and life for them, while perhaps not wonderfully good, was better than they had ever expected before.
The End
______
The Dwarfs wanted to honor Mt. Frothbeard and their two heroes, Uti and Ullulli on their label, so they commissioned the best Dwarfin artist to craft one. Dwarfs are not known for being great artists as you can see.
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Thanks so much for joining us on this Cynthia, your story was a pleasure to read!