Chapter 3

Pardin opened the door and the three dwarves shoved past him into the room. They took a moment to scan the room the room with their eyes and then to scan again with their noses, sniffing. The dwarf on the left stuck his finger up his left nostril and twirled it around a few times muttering. "Damn allergies."

Pardin stared at the dwarf praying that the creature didn't flick the goober across the cabin. Bernie followed Pardin's eyes and nudged his companion. "We're in a stranger's house, show some couth."

"Okay," the nose-picking dwarf said, wiping his extracted finger on the edge of his breast plate. "Human lands always have the worst allergies. No wonder humans die so fast and easy."

Taking advantage of the lull, Pardin asked, "Gentlemen, this being the caretaker's cottage, could you leave your axes outside on the porch?"

"You aren't going to try anything funny," Bernie said with a touch of menace in his voice.

Pardin was about to raise the "I'm offended by your suggestion" defense but decided against when he saw the look on the dwarf's face. "You can't drink tea with an axe in your hand," he said. "The water for tea is hot."

"Oh," said the third dwarf to his companion as he walked towards the door. "Humans are so namby-pamby. The way my mom always said it was 'you can't drink tea with your dick in your hand, ' which makes a hell of a lot more sense than what he said."

"Humans have dicks?" the nose-picker asked.

"Dunno," the third one shrugged as he dropped his axe. "Ask the Biffer Bimbo elf. I heard there isn't a house in the magic lands where she hasn't dropped someone's pants. More than one told me she even does the clam dip serenade."

"Well, if it was a dwarf, she probably got her entire head sucked up that cavern," nose-picker said and they both roared with laughter.

"Would you two stop yammering," Bernie said as he pushed them aside and dropped his axe. "He's trying to be polite. You two can't cook worth shit and I want my cup of tea."

Bernie turned back to Pardin, "You got any fresh fettock in the house for my tea?" he said, staring at the fresh cut branches of the herb hanging on the wall. "I've been a little bit constipated these past few days. Probably eating too much shit on the road."

Raw fettock was not fit for the human stomach; it had to be roasted before it could be used for seasoning. He assumed dwarves liked it fresh and from the source. First he needed to make the tea.

"Coming right up," Pardin said. He marched over to the cupboard, doing his best to ignore the elf who was fuming in the corner. He took out five mugs and set about making tea. Pardin poured the water over the green tea leaves that were abundant on the other side of the tunnel entrance and then let the tea steep.

The dwarfs pulled the two benches up to the table and promptly took seats. Plucking a handful of fettock leaves from the branches for each of their mugs, Pardin shoved them in the bottoms of the mugs still fresh. He poured the tea into the mugs and served the dwarves their cups.

Each immediately put their noses over their mugs and began snorting the steam. "These are fresh fettock leaves," Bernie said with appreciation. "The gods know how many times I cursed over the dried crap the fairies always sell us. This is starting out to be a good day, guys."

Each of them opened their mouths to taste the tea. Their tongues reminded Pardin of a calf's tongue. A wave of memory for his favorite dish of calf's tongue in mustard sauce washed over him until he looked back at the three. Their tongues looked a little too cow like and far too obscene. Pardin turned away and handed a cup without the fettock to Adray. She growled her thanks at him.

The silence was uncomfortable and Pardin, trying to play the good host addressed the dwarfs, "I understand dwarves love yodeling. I've never heard of such a thing."

"No-o-o," Adray moaned softy. "By all that is merciful in this world, may the goblins come and eat my liver now."

"Ignore the bleating elf, human," Bernie said. "What elves call music causes mothers to drop their young before their term. You bring up a subject near and dear to my heart that a human hasn't asked in many a year. Unlike the tone deaf elves, the music of the dwarf is in conjunction with the music of the spheres. A good yodel rises from deep in the pit of a man's bowels and rises up through his torso until finally it explodes in bursts of passion through the throat.

"Sounds like gas to me," Adray said.

"Silence, woman," Bernie growled. "The gods have granted me virgin ears this morning. With a fine cup of tea to revitalize us, a hymn to the morning's sun and the promise of its light is all that is lacking. Allow me to present the dwarven blessing to the rising sun in three part harmony."

A low rumble started at the other end of the bench. The sound reminded Pardin of his grandfather who would squirm and shift in his chair as he tried to find a comfortable position to accommodate his arthritis. Only his grandfather went quiet after a few bars while this production seemed to grow in voice and intensity.

Slowly Bernie opened up his arms and spread them in front of him. He opened his mouth and he sang in a beautiful contralto, "Yo-de-lay Ha-he-do-hu."

For a fat, squat, square-nosed creature to sing in an almost female voice stunned Pardin. Bernie didn't stop. On his second verse, his companions joined in singing even higher. Pardin glanced at Adray who had already plugged her ears with her fingers and squeezed her eyes shut in concentration.

The voices were beautiful and the sounds were unearthly. After two minutes, the surprise had worn off and the sounds began to grate on Pardin's nerves. However, the dwarves were just getting started. After a brisk first act, they began the next part with a slow, drawn out pace where every vowel was accentuated. Pardin couldn't stop his fingers from curling as his arms folded protectively over his chest. Time slowed to a painful, if rhythmic, crawl.

In a return to a faster pace, the dwarves began pounding the table in rhythm to their tune. Every time their oversized fists hit the table, dust sifted down from the rafters. Pardin felt a headache emerging between his temples.

Just when he thought he couldn't take another note, Bernie hit a high note and held it for eight counts. Then silence reined. Pardin felt his entire body release its tension in blessed relief.