The Unsung Hero

By Jack T Canis

A novelette of sword and sorcery, a warband of dwarves are corrected in their erroneous understanding of one of their greatest legends by the legend himself and his companion from the myth. The Siege of Telemarqe had been known as a dwarven battle of heroics against the might of a Dark Elven army. But the truth was very different, will the warband accept the truth?

 

'The Siege of Telemarqe is the last great legend in living memory for the dwarves, where a small, brave band of dwarven warriors, led by Stenchorn the Smelter, held the might of the Dark Elven army at bay until their eventual rout.

'Or was it? Truth is stranger than fiction & the dwarves are in for a shock when their own hero Stenchorn gainsays the history books. Is the proud dwarven nation ready for the truth?'

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jack T Canis
• Release date: Jun 29, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223541318

Jack T Canis

Jack T Canis lives in South Wales, UK with his wife and three neurodivergent children. He started his professional career as an archaeologist, but through the years has also been a self-employed armourer; an administrator for the NHS and in recent years a qualified person-centred counsellor specialising in bereavement and loss, now retired. Currently he is a full-time carer for his youngest child who has additional emotional & physical needs and carer for his eldest child who is autistic. He is a part time writer. He is published in a number of publications including: Purple Wall magazine (honourable mention & co-champion), Datura & Sledgehammer Literary magazine. He is in four anthologies and has been longlisted in the Cranked Anvil monthly competition (2021) & Bridport Flash Fiction Competition (2021). The collection of dark short stories, 'Horrific Tales for a Horrific Year' published by Abergavenny Small Press (ASP) is available from https://www.asppublishing.co.uk/ or https://books2read.com/horrifictales2020 He can be found on Twitter (daily): @jackcanis. & Facebook (rarely): @jacktcanis.

Book preview

The Unsung Hero

Jack T Canis

Published by Jack T Canis, 2023.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

THE UNSUNG HERO

First edition. June 29, 2023.

Copyright © 2023 Jack T Canis.

ISBN: 979-8223541318

Written by Jack T Canis.

Also by Jack T Canis

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Did You Know the Porters? (Coming Soon)

The Weird and Unexpected World of Ronald Taylor

The Weird and Unexpected World of Ronald Taylor (Coming Soon)

Standalone

Horrific Tales for a Horrific Year

Rehashed

The Unsung Hero

Ordinary World

Watch for more at Jack T Canis’s site.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Also By Jack T Canis

The Unsung Hero | Or | THE HEROES OF TELEMARQE (can go f*ck themselves)!

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About the Author

The Unsung Hero

Or

THE HEROES OF TELEMARQE (can go f*ck themselves)!

The Unsung Hero’s inn at Crow’s Cross was unusually busy today. That’s not to say it was an unpopular place to visit, just that today seemed to be busier than usual. A warband of dwarves had entered shortly after the paltry ensemble of the normal lunchtime crowd had sauntered back to their fields and crafts. The dwarves had taken over the centre of the taproom; demanding ales and fine roasts. The taproom was in keeping with the rest of the inn. Spacious, airy and light. The pine boards on the floor were clean and bright, having been swept, sanded and washed that morning; as they were every morning. The taproom was entered from the main common room, via a door opposite the bar. Over the door on this side was a scabbarded greatsword, not much detail could be discerned because of that scabbard, but the wooden plaque that was fixed to the wall was of solid construct and the bracing arms that held the sword were equal to their task of holding such a heavy weapon in place. The only thing of note about the sword were its quillons, which appeared to be brassy in colour, except for a blue oily sheen that glossed over them. There was a long alcove to the left, which was favoured by those who liked their privacy, it had only two windows in this wall and the innkeepers liked to keep them shuttered most of the time, to afford that dark nook-like corner that every establishment required for clandestine meetings. The main floor was, as previously noted, spacious, with a dozen or more round tables with chairs laid out in a seemingly haphazard manner.

Since their arrival, the dwarves had drunk steadily through the afternoon regaling one another with tales of daring-do. It was all rather tiresome really. There was a pause in the  regalement, until one of the younger members of the band piped up.

‘Hernvaal? Can you tell us the Tale of the Heroes of Telemarqe? I was called away when last you were regaling the band and I never really got to hear the story.’

Hernvaal, a stocky dwarf, even for his breed, sat at the head of the group of tables the dwarves had drawn together on their arrival. He was the elder statesman of the group and had silver strands running through the plaits of his well-groomed beard. He turned to the young stripling and said,

‘I’d be delighted to, young Feltorn, delighted to.’

He took up his tankard and chugged a great draught from it, slamming it down on the table and shouted ‘Huzzah!’ This act seemed to be a regular occurrence through the tale telling. Whenever an apparent moment of greatness had occurred in the stories all the dwarves had quaffed their ales, slammed the tankards onto the tables and roared, ‘Huzzah!’ The remaining inn patrons had become shell-shocked by its repetition and had vacated the taproom, leaving the dwarves to their reminiscences.

Hernvaal laid out the start of the tale with a good line in oratory, giving his captive audience a sense of actually being in the Pass of Telemarqe, where the dwarves had had one of their greatest victories against the infamous Dark Elves. To a dwarf they all pulled their cloaks tighter about their shoulders as they felt the brisk chill of the mountain snows whistling about them in the precarious darkness that held the might of a stealthy nation pouring down into the virtually unprotected realms of the kingdom of Quinton, land of the humans, the Creehorn.

‘And that was when Stenchorn the Smelter and Ingval the Bold stepped onto the iceshelf at the top of the mountain ridge...’ Hernvaal was interrupted by a voice that floated in from a dark recess of the taproom.

‘I think you mean Stenchorn the Smelly and Ingval the Bald,’ the voice said.

Hernvaal’s flow faltered. His tankard was half way to his lips, the ‘Huzzah!’ already ringing in his mind. He lowered his