An Ancient Truth
Copyright© 2026 by Asa Strong
Chapter 14
Four miserable days, we marched. On the morning of the fifth day, our beaten and disorganized army reached the Cavern. The sight of the walled city as we topped the hill to the north was a welcome sight.
The dwarf army that had come to our rescue was to our rear, just in case the orcs tried to attack as we retreated. There was no sight of the orcs, which surprised me somewhat. Maybe we had hurt them worse than I thought.
Torg grew stronger with each day; as did Saraid. By the time we reached the Cavern, Torg was moving on his own, and although Saraid was still being carried on a litter, you could see the improvement. The old elf healer taking care of her said she would recover fully, but it would take at least two more weeks before she was up and about.
As the troop I led approached the cavern gate, a company of my dwarf and elf cavalry came riding towards me from the front ranks. They were the first company in our group. The anger on both the dwarfs and elves’ faces was apparent as they came close. The lead dwarf reined his mount into a skidding stop and then dismounted and came over to where I was standing, talking with Gait.
“Donta, the dwarfs at the gate won’t let any of the elves enter!” He exclaimed, in an excited and angry tone of voice.
I had been half expecting something like this. What did surprise me was the anger on the dwarf faces in the company. During our escape, we had taken so many casualties that maintaining separate dwarf and elf companies had become impossible. It looked to me like the dwarfs and elves had jelled as a unit. Somehow, I knew that living and dying together formed a bond that was hard to break. It was also clear that the dwarfs in the company were not happy with the situation.
I sighed; there was a long history of mistrust between elf and dwarf. That it was being manifested now was to be expected. In a tired voice, I answered, “Let me see what the problem is.”
Turning towards the dwarf captain of the company, I asked, “Could you please find Tag’ar and inform him of the situation?”
The dwarf nodded, swung back up into the saddle, and he, and several other of the troop, galloped off towards the rear of the column.
“What now?” asked Gait.
I shrugged my shoulders, “We wait for Tag’ar. The dwarfs at the gate will not listen to me.” I said as I took a seat on a fallen tree, next to the trail.
Gait nodded as he sat down to my right.
Tag’ar showed up a short while later.
“I see we are going to have problems,” he said, as he took a seat next to me on the fallen log.
“Yes, and there is not much I can do about it. I guess you will have to talk to the council.”
Tag’ar gave out with an audible sigh, “I will take Bas’il with me. Maybe he can keep me from losing my temper!”
Tag’ar paused once he stood up, and commented to no one in particular. “I guess I’ll probably also have trouble with the council with Dan’ar being here as well.”
I wasn’t privy to what went on in the council meeting, but evidently many of the dwarfs that had ridden as part of the cavalry insisted that ‘their’ comrades be admitted. In any event, a couple of hours later we were let through the gates.
“Maybe,” I thought to myself, as we entered the huge gateway into the Cavern, “there might be hope yet for dwarf and elf to give up the hatred that exists between them.”
Tag’ar found me shortly after we passed through the main gate. “Donta,” he shouted over the din of creaking saddles and shod hooves on cobblestone, “the cavalry are to make camp on the south side of the valley.”
Tag’ar was on the far end of the street, and I barely heard him, as the sounds of our passing echoed off the walls of the buildings on both sides of the cobblestone roadway we traveled. I did manage to nod my head. He must have understood, as he turned his horse around and led us down a street heading towards the south.
Tag’ar led us to a large area devoted to many small gardens. It was evident that this was the area of the city that the citizens maintained for raising vegetables.
“Gait,” I hollered, as I turned around in my saddle, “halt the troops until I have a chance to see where we can make camp without destroying the gardens.”
Gait nodded, as I kicked my horse forward to where Tag’ar was, on the far side of a small patch of ground.
“Tag’ar, we have no idea how long we will have to hold out here. I don’t think it would be advisable to camp here and destroy the gardens. We may very well need them in the future.”
A concerned look came upon his face, and I could tell that he understood what I’d said, and also the logic behind it. Finally he spoke, “Donta, there is not much in the way of open ground within the walls of the Cavern. The upper valley is used for pasture for our livestock. This is the only open ground left.”
I turned my horse as I reached Tag’ar and looked back over my troop of mixed elves and dwarfs. Most of the dwarfs in the troop were not from the Cavern; they had no kin to stay with and would need lodging as well. As I glanced back at the mounted troops, I estimated there were about four hundred.
“Think, Donta,” I said to myself, while trying to come to grips with how to handle the problem. Neither Tag’ar nor I said a word for the longest time. Finally he spoke, “Donta, I don’t see any other solution.”
At first, I didn’t either, but then I took a good look at how the land was laid out. The gardens were small, about thirty feet square. There was a buffer space between gardens of about ten feet, probably to leave enough room to wheel carts or barrows in to remove the produce.
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