The cave looked like an enchanted garden where all the living plants had been cursed to turn into the stone by some evil will. Craftsmen elaborately reflected the flowering of spring and summer by making it bleak and everlasting but also imperishable.
‘Acquaintance with Noldor did it well to our brothers.’ Ezgedhal was embraced by his wife whilst enjoying the sight of masons’ wonderful creation, which was mysteriously shining in lights of white, green and pinkish lanterns.
The elder brother of king Azaghal nodded his head in agreement whilst scratching his beard. His warm and pleasing wife drew his mind away from all his tensions, but the subject of 'the silvery metal’ was raised too often these days to restrain oneself from thoughts about pursuing vainly researches.
Not once supremacy of Thane the Merchant, Durin The Red from Nogrod, was put on for a challenge. Khazad claimed that the first of Seven Kings, one way or another, made everyone to think alike with filthy traders, and speaking so not only of the merchants but also warriors and miners! Right after the dwarves, Thargelion worshipers, had found the precious true-silver vein, many underground citizens went completely mad, and this madness was even more fueled up because of the promised reward!
Young boys and even girls, as soon as their beards reached their chests, were running away from their homes to seek for the same metal, which everyone was calling 'the silver’ while exchanging meaningful winks, but never mentioning its real name. Durin The Red, who had promised the royal honours and reward to all the seekers who would succeed, surely got cold feet as soon as he got to know how his initiative turned out. Although, he tried to remind all his subjects that a disaster would not happen if the mithril would not be found but it was not possible anymore to stop the avalanche that had already begun. But, maybe, they did not try hard enough.
Researchers were arriving again and again at the place where mithril was found. They were examining the soil and minerals situated near, the spellcasters were trying to feel a specific vibration of stone that would have guided them in the right direction. Dwarves were desperately begging for The Great Mahal’s mercy, so a new abundant load of 'that silver’ would have been shown to them, however, all the efforts were futile.
'Listen, I swear on my hands!’ a miner, who previously was considered as a lucky one, insisted. 'I found the same place! Flowers grow there as they should, and foxes are circling it from left side to the right! And bird dung is also there. And red ants were running away in three separate lines! But no matter how deeply we were digging, we found nothing!’
Stories like that became to be heard more and more. The gold-diggers started drinking, lost their sleep, and left their families, or did not marry at all.
'Until I find,’ a person would wink, 'the silver,’ wink-wink, 'you shan’t wait for me at home’.
Such words were heard frighteningly often, and Ezgedhal, whose son also became interested in the hunt for the silver, got more and more worried about the fate of his own dynasty.
His wife could only desperately sigh while embracing their children, and she was begging them not to abandon their family because nothing could be as precious as beloved relatives. Besides, there was no lack of wealth for royals.
'Durin lured my people on purpose by using this bloody mithril,’ Azaghal once came to this conclusion. 'He undermined my authority, making all people think that the people of Khazad do not need the war, and so leaving me without an army. Ah, you see, Durin stands by traditional values — seeking and refining underground treasures! But what about safety — isn’t it one of the traditional values?! Is it only elves who need the war against our enemy?!’
Stone flowers were not exuding fragrance, however, they seemed to be the living ones. Looking at their tiny petals, Ezgedhal imagined how his brothers would have lost their minds because of a desire to find the 'wink-wink silver’ and suddenly identify these carved out of stone flowers as another 'sign’. Who knows, which prints would coincide? Or when would a lizard run past? Thus everything here would be destroyed…
Brother of the dwarven king was horrified to find himself becoming curious and eager to find out whether mithril truly laid behind these lifeless gardens.
***
Telchar the Craftsman was not only skillful but also cunning. If he was entrusted with important work, he would finish it and gather around all his family, students, friends and apprentices, showing everyone the result of his prolonged work and forcing them to praise him. Later on, he would spread rumors all over the neighborhood, how great Telchar — an honourable descendant of his glorified ancestor with whom he shared the same name — created another brilliant thing. After such a fuss, an orderer could not complain, because otherwise he would have ended to be stomped by the crowd of those who did not want to be flogged by short-tempered craftsman and others, who followed the reliable majority opinion. And how could there stay a possibility to be unpleased with the creation of 'the same Telchar, who made the weapon that won the First Battle for Beleriand’?
Though, this time was not quite the ordinary one.
An early widowed but fairly good-looking dwarf, whose beard was of a wheat colour and was not touched by greyness yet, was often visited even by very young girls, who were admiring his fame as deft smith and jeweler. Rumors that described how wondrously Telchar was crafting his goods kept everyone from seeing the quality and relevance of those in their true lights; and young dwarf girls could not do otherwise but were falling in love with his bright blue big eyes and fluffy eyelashes of a sandy colour, besides of that, respect for the craftsman, which was built on rage towards his foes, created a misleading impression of him as a reliable husband with whom his wife would feel safe.
'There was a dragon! Can you imagine, Izbadu men?’ fawning all over him just like the cat, a young maiden was purring with sweet words. She had a fancy hairdo for those days: her beard was plaited in small braids and pulled back, and they were joining the big braids that were pinned together behind her ears, creating loops of hair. 'A giant golden lizard: dangerous but beautiful and invincible! It attacked the camp, situated within the Green Plain, and swept away the fences, burned and maimed the guardians; only by common efforts the warriors could chase away the beast!’
Telchar heard from the builders, who returned from the siege camp, and from families of the warriors, who did not come back, that some kind of beast suddenly appeared out of the ground right in the tower with fuel storage. And as so this Morgoth beast was a living fire, this led to fire and blast that destroyed forts. However, just like any other fire, in the end, this beast faded away, and there was nothing left but embers.
'Nonsense!’ Telchar dispelled the thoughts of this implausible story, he did not even consider offering condolences to the relatives of the fallen and decided for himself that his fellows simply had drunk too much at the fuel storage and accidentally ignited it.
Though, maiden’s words sounded believable and the craftsman became interested. Witty dwarf thought that the dragon’s purposeful attack was an affront, so the army would throw all forces onto the impregnable Angband cliffs, and then Morgoth would crush them. According to gossips, the commanders had not acted foolishly, they had avoided breaking the siege and carried on. And it was pleasing to hear.
'Dragon, you say?’ Telchar asked the maiden. 'Like those who live in caves?’
Dwarf-girl did not know the answer; she could only repeat again and again: golden, beautiful, dangerous, fire-breathing.
The craftsman fell into deep thoughts and realised that the lizard could have become an emblem of Khazad army and, as a result, would have brought back leading position to Azaghal out of seven kings. Whom would Beleriand need to defeat Morgoth’s lizards, but the undermountain people who have hunted down various underground creatures? Maybe, it has become enough of the pointless hunt for mithril that happened to be favoured by Noldorian merchant from Thargelion, thus being proclaimed impossibly precious. Khazad were wasting their time, powers and resources on building new mines while they were not a source of gain and were only bankrupting themselves; on the other hand, Durin The Red was doing nothing but flattering the elf who was multiplying his own riches on king’s dime.
Enough! Azaghal is our king! The descendant of great glorious lords! Yes, he chose the path of a warrior, but it was just the thing that all the Endore residents needed. The enemy should fell, and then it would have been possible to deal with merchanting.
Indeed, Telchar did not see himself amongst all the warriors of Beleriand, because he decided for himself, right from the beginning, that smith should stay in the forge and should not rush to the battlefield, as so it was a waste of valuable resource. However, the idea of supporting king Azaghal stuck firmly in the head of the craftsman, who has never been on the battlefield, and Telchar began his work.
Dwarf previously announced to everyone that he was preparing something epic and capable of overshadowing with its gloriousness the deeds of craftsman’s great ancestor; then he began with that he remembered: no one and never would make armour and weapons for the army, using individual measurements. There was some kind of mid-range reference to which everyone adhered.
He shrugged off the swarm of recalled 'ridiculous naggings’ that craftsman had to hear from time to time as if 'knife balance is incorrect’, 'the blade was bent in an unhandy way’, 'it’s not possible to close the bracelet clasp with one hand’, 'earrings are too heavy’, and many, many other. Then Telchar started sketching the forthcoming legendary masterpiece while gazing at the battle axe that was hanging in the middle of the wall.
Back then, this weapon was not possible to use anymore, because it could fall apart at any moment; nevertheless, it was effectively guarding Telchar against criticism, as so it was a remembrance of craftsman’s great descendant and would immediately show anyone that the mastership was passed down from father to son, and would not it be faded but become multiplied with each and one following generation.
And Telchar himself was being constantly reminded that his ancestor earned his fame with his own hands but not with tongues of others.
'I’ll also do a great deed,’ craftsman started to argue with the relic, 'and also not for my own sake! Tell me, do you like this mass obsession for chasing mithril? I don’t! Our brothers are simply fools, and it’s their fault that after finding a unique vein they wasted it on adornments for the elven princess, leaving nothing for themselves. Serves them right! While I’ll use our usual steel and gold!’
Of course, the axe did not say anything about the craftsman’s speech.
'Nogrod was a wonderful city!’ Telchar continued to prove his words while drawing different sides of his future masterpiece. 'But then came these overseas merchants! Well, no, I am not against the alliance, however, Durin is wrong! Hal and Har were brothers who founded two great clans! Hala’s descendants became kings, and Hara’s — craftsmen! The fact that during the First Battle our two clans lost each other and Hara’s successors happened to appear in the domain of Durin is just a coincidence! We thought that Halas were gone!
The weapon on the wall did not even ding for an answer.
'I left Nogrod along with my family and apprentices as soon as I understood that part of my earnings was flowing to bottomless treasuries of Caranthir. Why would I share my property with the crowned thief?! And don’t you dare tell me that I just couldn’t bear the competition with those who worked more rigorously!’
The battle-axe of Telchar the armourer was still silent.
Master had not got an answer from the relic, yet he had decided that silence was a sign of agreement, so he finished the draft and went out to gather his students, thus they could begin to praise the work, that was started by his own intention, right from the time of the charcoal draft.
