Changing Views

Mar 26, 2025

The view was changing too. As each of the foothills grew higher than the one before it, so the sights and smells of the mountains became more evident. We had to ford streams frequently, streams that flowed down into the tributary we had crossed. The Dwarf men, overruling their annoyed women, stripped their clothes off at each stream as they pulled the wagons across. Several of them were too deep for Dwarf men, and the Elves had to help us. We attached ropes to the wagons and, standing on the far bank, pulled the ropes while the Elves pulled the wagons themselves. The water was freezing cold, and we often had the women prepare fires for us on the other side of the stream so that when we got too cold from pulling wagons we could come and stand at the fire for a while, drinking hot Kresta.

It was not long after one of the bigger of the streams that we came round a bend and saw an enormous fortress. Two fortresses, in fact, with the road leading right between them. Meical and I were pulling our wagon together, but stopped when we saw it. We both knew what it signified.

Meical and I had become almost inseparable. We never slept alone, either I slept with his family, or he with mine. I had learned, or at least started to learn, Elvish politeness, and (almost) never stared now at any of his family doing ‘private’ things. And he had learned to stay with us, changing unabashedly behind a curtain with me, knowing that my Sisters were probably peeking between the cracks.

He was still not very emotional, but then, we Dwarves weren’t either. Seamus was a better friend, in that he knew more about me. But Meical and I, well, we were ‘family’ too.

And this, this pair of fortresses, was where it would end, at least the fun, being-together-all-the-time, part. Here was where the Elves would turn off to the right and the left, entering the deep forest that stretched to either side of the road. And here we Dwarves would continue on into the hills, to one of our new cities.

And here was where Nhomhisosh and Gertrude would leave us. From now on the road was under Dwarvish protection. The large plains animals never came this far up anyway, never approached the great forests.

Leaving Gertrude was hard, much harder than I expected it to be. It had happened so quickly. We Dwarves didn’t do things quickly, and the few weeks since their betrothal was announced seemed like no time at all. I didn’t have anything particular to say to her. We weren’t emotional, we Dwarves, or at least, we couldn’t talk about it. So I just stood by our wagon the next morning, waiting for her to come out, waiting quietly with the rest of the family as Nhomhisosh stood before us on his horse.

None of us were quite sure why we were outside. Gertrude had talked to Father, and he had just told us that morning to get out of the wagon- even Mother. It seemed like hours before the wagon flap opened and Gertrude started down the stairs.

We all stared at her. I could hear Mother breathing sharply in. None of us had imagined this; and with all the other Dwarf families watching too.

Gertrude was dressed as a Horsegirl. Not that any actual Horsegirl clothes would fit, of course, and who knows how she had gotten it made. But it was a Horsegirl costume-- scandalously undressed for a Dwarf girl.

She was red faced, but she held her head up-- up and facing Nhomhisosh.

Who was obviously pleased; his horse danced to and fro, up and down-- as they always do when their rider is excited. She walked over toward him and literally had to wait while he calmed himself, and thus his horse, enough to reach down for her.

I was the first one to see that there was going to be a problem, so I raced over and helped. Between my pushing, and Nhomhisosh’s pulling, we got her up, up sitting in front of him in the saddle. I reached down and grabbed her saddlebags. They were heavy, obviously filled with her dowry. I wondered what Nhomhisosh had paid in bride price.

The saddlebags up, Nhomhisosh turned the horse toward us. He looked like he was going to say something, but couldn’t make up his mind. Nor did Gertrude say anything, but merely looked at us. She was still red faced, with her head up high, and with a look I couldn’t at all decipher in her eyes. Then Nhomhisosh reached forward, pulling her toward himself, and galloped off to where his herd was vanishing in the distance down the trail.

“We will never live that down, never,” said Mother to Father.

Father stood watching the couple until they vanished, then he turned to Mother, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“People will be talking about us forever!”

“Yes, they will,” agreed Father. “Among Dwarf storytellers their tale will live on forever… and it hasn’t even started yet.”

Mother stared at him. “Well, and well they might. But that isn’t what I meant and you know it. How am I going to face the other ladies? What am I going to say to them? My Daughter, dressed like that? The way he held onto her as they rode off? What am I going to say?”

“I have no idea what you ladies say to each other when you get together,” Father replied, “nor do I wish to know. But if you are at a loss for subject matter, you can probably begin talking about your grandchildren to be. I don’t think it will be that long.”

Mother flushed. Her sensibilities had been constantly pushed to the limit over these last few days. But Father cut her off, “Now, don’t tell me that you ladies, when you are all alone, don’t talk about such things. I won’t believe it.”

—

Island People

Island People is a young adult fantasy book centring on a young prince. The book starts with his kidnapping and follows his adventures as he not only escapes from his kidnapper but gains critical allies and friends.

The entire book is scheduled on Substack, and there are several sequels. This is a book I wrote years ago, so it is in a bit of a rough form. Critiques and comments are more than welcome, they are requested.

Thank you for reading Von’s Substack. I would love it if you commented! I love hearing from readers, especially critical comments. I would love to start more letter exchanges, so if there’s a subject you’re interested in, get writing and tag me!

Being ‘restacked’ and mentioned in ‘notes’ is very important for lesser-known stacks so… feel free! I’m semi-retired and write as a ministry (and for fun) so you don’t need to feel guilty you aren’t paying for anything, but if you enjoy my writing (even if you dramatically disagree with it), then restack, please! Or mention me in one of your own posts.

If I don’t write you back it is almost certain that I didn’t see it, so please feel free to comment and link to your post. Or if you just think I would be interested in your post!

If you get lost, check out my ‘Table of Contents’ which I try to keep up to date.

Von also writes as ‘Arthur Yeomans’. Under that name he writes children’s, YA, and adult fiction from a Christian perspective. His books are published by Wise Path Books and include the children’s/YA books:

The Bobtails meet the Preacher’s Kid

The Bobtails and the Cousins

The Bobtails go to France

and

No Ordinary School

As well as GK Chesterton’s wonderful book, “What’s Wrong with the World”, for which ‘Arthur’ wrote most of the annotations.

Arthur also has a substack, and a website. On the substack you can listen to some of his published books. Free.

Thanks again, God Bless, Soli Deo gloria,

Von