The Dwarf and the King

On a hot summer day in a small kingdom, a dwarf and the king walked into a tavern near the city outskirts. The king donned flowing golden silk to match his gleaming crown and greaves. A sword sheathed in bear hides and plated silver hung on his back. He looked tremendous next to the dwarf who had on but only gray robes concealing worn and holed cotton beneath.

They both sat at a wooden counter, and the king noticed the dwarf struggling to climb the creaky stool. He chuckled and ordered a fire ale, one of the tavern's finest. When the dwarf managed to situate himself, he called to the barkeep, "I'll have the same, please."

The king looked over and said, "what do you know about fire ale, little creature?"

"Your Highness, it is an absolute honor to share this drink with you," said the dwarf as he bowed, nearly tipping himself off the seat. "My father was a wine merchant. He would always bring home the most exotic brews from far places. Fire ale was one of his favorites."

"Your father. He must have drunken his wealth and left you in rags." The king said as the barkeep brought over two mugs of steamy ale. He took a large swig. 

"My father died in a fire, your Highness, along with what he owned. But he had left me something far more valuable. He'd taught me the art of persuasion." Said the dwarf after downing a mouthful.

The king pointed at the dwarf's weathered robes and scoffed, "persuasion, you say? Must I advise you to practice that upon the tailor down the road?" With that, he laughed, and poured the rest of his ale down his throat in one guzzle. Frost lingered on his mouth and nose.

"Your Highness, there is a time and place for my ability. Would you entertain a small wager?" asked the dwarf, his eyes glinting. 

That caught the king's interest. He ordered another ale and grinned at the dwarf.

"Mind your wishes, little creature. I am the king. No challenger has ever walked away unscathed. Speak your game."

"Very well, my king." The dwarf scanned the room for a few moments, then pointed at a group of women seated by the corner. They appeared noble in bright satin and shiny trinkets. "You see those lordly ladies there? I will persuade them to give me all their clothes. If I succeed, you'll pay me one gold coin."

"You are more delusional than I thought. But, by all means, dwarf." The king turned on his stool and watched the small man hobble toward the women. He whispered something to their ears and made a strange gesture. Moments after, their eyes widened as if shocked and stood. One by one, the women began to remove their gowns and scarves, handing them to the dwarf. The king felt his jaw weighing down as the dwarf shuffled back with a pile of clothes larger than himself.

The king took out a gold coin and tossed it on the table.

"How did you do it? Certainly, it was not your supposed persuasion. That's foolish."

The dwarf tucked the coin in his belt and smiled, "Your Highness, it was simple. Those are comfort women. I paid them for their service, and part of my request was to see them bare while I drank. Looks can be deceiving, wouldn't you agree? It only cost me a few silvers."

Fuming, the king swallowed the rest of his ale and called for another.

"The game isn't finished, dwarf. We play again. This time, I choose the mark."

"Of course, my king. Who shall I persuade?"

Without hesitation, the king gestured at two soldiers standing by the tavern door.

"Those men. They are my royal guards. If you can have them surrender their weapons, I'll pay you twice the wager."

The dwarf thought for a moment, then nodded.

"That's a tough one, but I accept."

With that, the dwarf waddled his way to the guards. Once again, he whispered and made the same gestures, but this time, he stole a glance at the king. The guards looked at the king and hesitated but only for a split second before unstrapping their swords and shields. In all his years on the throne, no one had committed such treason in front of his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to execute the men, but a heavy anger held the king in place.

"Dwarf," he growled. "Explain."

"I apologize, Your Highness," the dwarf said as he lowered his head. "But I told them I was your friend, and you wanted to show me the magnificent gear crafted by the hands of the strongest smiths. The gear, which they were wearing by your providence."

Slamming two more gold coins on the table, the king upended his freshly brought mug into his mouth.

"I think you are blurring the line between persuasion and deceit, little creature."

"There are no honest wagers, Your Highness, only honest outcomes. My father taught me that."

"Did your father also teach you the consequences of lying to a king? One last game. This time, my authority is the rules, and you will lose."

The king leaped off his stool and staggered across the tavern. Fire ale swirled thick in his veins. He found a table of common folks - a family of four. Farmers, perhaps. That would only make his words more fearful. He said to them while pointing at the dwarf, "You see that hideous critter there? In a moment, he will come and whisper in your ears and flourish with his little arms. No matter what he says, I order you to stay still. No matter what anyone says, hell, even what I say hereafter, you are to remain unmoving. You understand?"

A shadow of dread laid across their faces. The eldest man spoke with chattering teeth. "Y...yes, Your Highness."

The king stumbled back to their seats with a smirk on his lips. He told the dwarf, "I just spoke to those farmers. All the gold in my kingdom if you can make them stand. If not, I'll have you as my slave."

The dwarf took a sip from his mug and stared into the king's eyes. A moment later, he nodded.

"I'll not deny this offer of a lifetime. The outcome will change my life."

Once again, the dwarf limped toward his mark. After some gestures and whispers, the folks remained in their stools.

"Ha!" The king slammed the table and let out a thunderous laughter. He knew the dwarf had failed. "I told you. No one dares to conflict my will. You are mine, dwarf."

Instead of slumping in defeat or a look of resignation like the king expected to see in his eyes, the dwarf grinned the most devilish grin he had ever seen.

"You win, Your Highness. As your now slave, you must know my name."

The king had never met a slave this happy with its role, and the flooding fire ale enhanced his curiosity.

"You are a strange fool. What are you called?"

"My name is Ikol. Men call me the god of mischief." Thick strands of colorful smoke engulfed the dwarf to form the shape of a larger man. When it dissipated, the king saw a tall figure with purple skin and twisted horns staring down at him.

The king dropped his steamy mug and shattered it. He had only heard legends about the higher beings, but never imagined meeting them. Least of all, not like this.

"If you're a god, then what did you tell them?" He looked at the family of farmers still trembling in their seats.

"Nothing. I set them on fire." Ikol laughed and disappeared out of thin air, leaving only rainbow colored dust and a burning table. Despite their flesh searing, they screamed and stayed in place. Through the roaring fire, the king cried for them to run, but they could no longer hear him. He could no longer hear himself. There were only the sounds of crackling wood and haunting laughter of the trickster god.