Young Writers Society

All the dwarves had heard the scream echo through the valley. Nearly all had seen the cloud of fire shoot into the sky like lava. Now, they held vigil at the mouth of the mountain-pass, waiting for their hero, the warrior who had slain the dragon, to come home- or not to.

Blind Ol' Balderdash the beggar, who the other villagers normally gave a wide berth, went unnoticed in the midst of the crowd. He couldn't see the red eyes and the beard-wringing but he could hear everything: heartbroken sobs, wailing, frantic and desperate prayers. Kulostal the warrior was adored. He was the strongest, the bravest and the most handsome of all the dwarves and looked set to be chosen at the next Council as village chieftain. Every young dwarf wanted to be him. Every young dwarf-maiden wanted to be with him. When the dragon had come, eating children and cattle, burning houses and crops, claiming the jewel mines for his own, Kulostal had set forth alone into the mines, armed with just an axe, to slay him. He had prevailed and the villagers had rejoiced, until the day grew late and he still did not return. Then, dread had gripped their hearts and hope had slowly faded.

"Kinsfolk!" boomed around the mountain, accompanied by gasps, shrieks and shouts of joy. Then bewilderment:

"Where is he? Where is he? Kulostal!" a dwarf-maiden, pressed close to Balderdash, shouted.

"He's died and come back as a spirit!" someone screamed. The cry was taken up by the crowd.

"No, kinsfolk, do not take fright!" Kulostal's bodiless voice boomed. Balderdash's hearing was sharp to compensate his blindness and he alone could hear that Kulostal was hiding amongst the rocks, "I am alive; I am more alive than ever before! Armed with my axe, my courage and my love for you all," here the dwarf-maidens swooned, "I slayed the dragon. But I will not pretend that I left the battle unscarred. Before it died, the dragon scorched me to the bone. I was left near to death in the depths of the mine but the gods, who reward the brave and bearded, summoned me to their caverns," the crowd gasped and shouted questions about the next world in all directions, but Kulostal ignored them and carried on, "There Eshkimol healed my wounds and then Threnekrul chose my reward. He said to me, Hero, you have served your kinsfolk well. You are truly the bravest and the best of dwarves. And so you must have, to replace the beard the dragon scorched off-"

"Your beard! Your beautiful beard!" wailed the maiden.

"-The best beard any dwarf has ever had, a beard made from the very power of the gods and so brilliant that only the brave and bearded, those who one day will come to live in these caverns, may see it. I am sure that that applies to you all, my kinsfolk, and that you must now see before you, if you are truly of brave heart and brave beard and if your souls shall rest in the Caverns for all eternity, the most magnificent beard ever."

Did Balderdash hear a note of warning, daring anyone to disagree, as Kulostal stepped out into the open?

First there was a silence, heavy with shock, confusion and long thoughts, then a clamour:

"The finest beard I have ever seen!"

"The biggest! The bravest! The best!"

"I am riddled right through with envy..."

"Aaah, he is even more handsome than before!"

Balderdash couldn't see and so he listened, as usual, to what those around him said and tried to form a picture in his mind. But he couldn't. The crowd were all avoiding saying specifics. Yes, the beard was the finest and the best, but what colour was it? Was it curly? Braided? Dreadlocked?

An idea, a very strange idea, formed in Balderdash's mind. He lifted his voice, frail and croaky, as much as he could and shouted, "What a fine shade of red! It is the most ginger beard I've ever seen!"

And sure enough, his words echoed through the crowd:

"It's red as flame!"

"Red as the bartender's nose!"

"I never thought a ginger beard would be the best!"

Were these words, wondered Balderdash, becoming just a little mocking? He wished he could see Kulostal's face.

"And," said Balderdash, for the beard might well be red, "What a sweet, pointy goatee it is!"

"I'm sure it makes up in quality for its quantity..."

"It's like the beard of a newborn baby!"

"I should like to stroke it!"

Using the sound of Kulostal's protests to guide him, "You must be viewing it in the wrong light! It is a full beard of black!" Balderdash found his way out of the crowd and right up to the warrior.

"I do believe," Balderdash grinned, feeling Kulostal's face with his hand, "That this chin is quite bald and that Kulostal, in his vanity, takes us all for idiots and fools."

Then Kulostal was laughed at and shamed by the villagers when he might otherwise have been revered for slaying the dragon, and Blind Ol' Balderdash was chosen as the village chieftain because the villagers said that, though blind, he had the clearest sight of them all.