[piosenniel]

Folwren's post



‘Oh well,’ Skald sighed, still having the impudence to smile at him. ‘I suppose I shall have to be on the look out now, won’t I...for some payback trick of yours.’

Bror’s look was almost black as he sized his older brother up. The taste clung to his mouth and it seemed nothing he did would cure it. ‘That’s low, Skald,’ Bror finally said, scowling. ‘It’s a dirty trick.’

‘Most of the things you do to me are considered dirty tricks, too.’

‘Yes, but I haven’t done one for months.’ One corner of his mouth pulled back in consideration and he stared at the dark wine in his mug before taking another drink (not that it helped much). ‘Well, it’s not been for a long time, anyhow. And, yes, to reply to your question, you will have to be on the look out. But I’ll tell you now, your eyes won’t be sharp enough, nor your ears keen enough, to avoid the trap I’ll lay. You’ll only know what hit you afterwards.’ Skald only laughed at him, and Bror, already having something forming in his head, smiled back. To his surprise, Skald threw his head back and laughed again, even louder.

‘Skald Stonecut,’ Unna said with some sharpness on the edge of her voice, ‘either halt that din of yours, or leave at once. Ginna will never get to sleep if you keep on so.’

Skald looked somewhat abashed and Bror’s smile turned into something rather impish before he had the wits to hide it behind the mug. Neither of them had the chance to say anything more before Riv walked in. He looked tired, and whatever Bror’s merriment was left instantly dried up. Skald and he glanced at each other.

‘Hello, Skald and Bror,’ Riv said as he passed them. Bror and Skald watched as Unna greeted her husband and they went to the cradle and talked in low voices as Riv watched his daughter sleep.

‘I wonder what’s gotten into him,’ Bror said. Skald just shook his head.

‘Nothing but a hard long day’s work,’ he answered.

‘He is kind of late, isn’t he?’ Bror commented, looking away from Riv. ‘What did you do all day?’ And so a conversation got started. Riv joined them with his mug after a few minutes. They talked of small matters. Nothing was said of the growing whispers of war. The shadow had not touched Bror, and as yet, he wasn’t aware of it affecting either of his brothers, though Riv may have thought some on it.

After a while, Bror finished his second mug of ale and pushed back his chair. ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you fellows,’ he said. ‘Old Jollin wants me at the forge early tomorrow. Goodnight.’

His brothers bid him goodnight as he picked up his harp and went out. He sang quietly to himself as he followed the dim corridors to his room. Before going to bed, he sat for some time in deep thought and consideration. The taste of vinegar - or whatever it had been that Skald had so backhandedly put into his drink - had finally left his mouth, but the thought of it remained. He couldn’t leave him unpaid, and he didn’t intend to. Besides, it was far better to do something against Skald when he had some sort of reason to. Then he might at least have some sort of chance to escape payment.

‘Not very likely, though,’ he muttered finally, pulling off his boots. ‘If you end up successfully pulling this off, Skald won’t be accepting it as revenge for that tiny prank that you got tonight. There will be some serious reckoning to do...’

But Bror wasn’t one to decide against something that could afford such fun because it might get him into a little bit of trouble with his older brother. So, satisfied that he had a workable plan, he laid down, pulled the covers up over his head, and instantly fell asleep.

---------------

During the next few days, Bror did nothing out in the open in preparation for what he intended to do for Skald. While in his room, he worked with ropes and knots, pulleys, and other things that he thought may help him in his plan. Finally he was satisfied with the trap itself. The only thing he missed was bait. At first he thought it would be simple enough to rig the thing right in front of Skald’s door, but studying the situation, he found that there was no place to hang the ropes, and besides that, it was too visible.

A chance soon offered itself when Skald one evening told his brothers of a commission he had been hired for. He would be leaving early the next morning to take some of his workings across the mines to an old dwarf.

‘You’re leaving early?’ Bror asked, studying Skald carefully. The older brother only nodded. ‘Really early? Before any one else is up?’ Skald nodded again, raising an eyebrow expectantly. ‘Oh, I was only wondering. You’ll still be eating here, I guess. Well, good,’ he said, after Skald had given him yet another affirmative answer. ‘I’m happy for you. I hope it all goes well. Good luck.’ He got up and excused himself and hurried to his room.

He took out his stores of ropes and then settled down to wait. Before long, everything was quiet in the halls and corridors. He cautiously set out from his room and retraced his steps to the kitchen. No one was there and everything was dark. He stepped back out to the hall and fetched one of the night lamps and then bore everything with him to the pantry at the back of the room. Skald usually came here in the mornings before work and since he would be leaving early, there would be little or no chance that Unna or Riv would come there before Skald.

He worked silently setting the ropes. The hooks in the ceiling used for hanging pots and pans and sometimes meats served to hold the cords. His hands moved quickly, tying knots here and twisting them there, some to move, and some to remain fast. Finally, he was finished. He studied his handiwork and then bound the end of the rope to another hook in the wall before taking the night lamp back out and leaving the pantry and kitchen as silent and dark as it had been when he had come.

A long string he rigged from there to his room. On the end he attached a small bell. It would wake him as soon as his victim was caught and he would go untangle him. As soon as that was finished, he cast himself on his bed and slept.

The violent ringing of his bell alarm woke him. He started up out of bed, feeling as though he had only slept a moment, and went running out towards the kitchen. He arrived there in less than a minute. A lamp sat on the table, turned low and a cap belonging to Skald was on a chair. A large smile broke out on his face but the next instant it was wiped off as he realized that two voices came from the pantry, belonging to both of his brothers. Riv must have gotten up early as well, to see Skald off, Bror figured.

The light from the lamp did not reach back there, so he picked it up and took it with him. He stopped at the door. One of the two brothers hung by his foot upside down, with his head a few feet from the stone floor. The other stood on the ground, searching with his hands some rope to cut to try to get him down. Bror stood for a minute in the doorway with the lamp upraised. The brother on the ground turned to look at him. His eyes glittered in the light and Bror’s mouth dropped.

It was Skald looking at him. He had caught the wrong dwarf.