In the old apothecary of Dulnitz at the moment two men who couldn’t be more different faced each other on both sides of the counter. One of them was a slender, slightly shriveled old man with sparse grey hair, brown eyes wise from age, and a big drooping mustache. This man was Ortwin, the longest-serving apothecary in the mining town. Opposite of him stood a young, strong, and broad-shouldered giant, two and a half heads taller than an average man but only sixteen years old. He had bundled his long black hair into a ponytail and his amber eyes shone with wit. Even if Friedbert, such the youth was called, instilled awe with his gigantic brawny build, in reality he had a gentle temper. Since the young man had come to Dulnitz half a year ago he was well-known in the whole town. Namely Friedbert was a healer who was skilled at the practice of the traditional healing arts of the buschweibchens, wood sprites believed to be extinct that were considered to be unsurpassable healers.

“Yes, I still have loosestrife in stock. Dried, of course.” Ortwin declared. The old apothecary could hardly serve with fresh plants, for it was December these days and therefore deepest winter.

“What luck!” Friedbert rejoiced. Because he had surprisingly run out of hemostatic loosestrife gathered earlier in the year. With what he would buy from the old Ortwin today he would have to manage until loosestrife was available again. The old apothecary always made a fair price.

Suddenly the door to the apothecary was pushed open and an eleven years old girl clad in dense winter clothes entered. The slim brown-haired child was Dietlinde, daughter of the grocer’s widow Hildegunde with whom the gigantic healer lived as a lodger.

“How good that I’ve found you, Friedbert!” she shouted “You must come quickly! There was a big accident in the mine and the dwarves drum up all healers.”

Friedbert furrowed his brows worriedly. A mining accident was something you had to always reckon with in a town like Dulnitz that had become prosperous and was still flourishing through mining. It was a matter of course for the young man that he would do his best to help. Just that the wintery circumstances didn’t quite add to facilitate the rescue of the injured.

“I understand.” the giant declared with a deep voice while he paid the apothecary and received the bought goods. “Just let me shortly return home to fetch the necessities.” Then he stepped out on the street covered with white snow – although not without having to bend down in the low door frame of the apothecary. Outside he drew himself up to his full height and strode hurriedly. Some who caught sight of him got a chill because, despite the cold weather that caused long icicles to sparkle on the eaves, he wore nothing more than moss-green trousers and a shirt of the same color. For a change he had wrapped his big feet with cloth. Otherwise he used to go barefoot.

Friedbert’s destination was located somewhat outside the town walls of Dulnitz, not far from the mine shafts were the miners went down and came up again. In the vicinity of the mine there lay a settlement surrounded by a palisade trench where the diggers lived with their families. In contrast to the population of Dulnitz which consisted predominantly of humans, the hewers, foremen and other mineworkers were dwarves who, expelled from their old home, had settled here nearly a century ago with approval of the Count of Dulnitz at the time, and who exploited the riches of the mountains that benefitted the town of Dulnitz and its Lord – since a few years a royal governor because the last Count had fallen into disgrace. This settlement of dwarves, called Dvergastadr – place of the dwarves – by its inhabitants, was called Zwergendorf – village of the dwarves – by the Dulnitzians.

“Friedbert, how good that you’re coming!” an agitated voice with unmistakable accent shouted. Owner of this voice was a hunched dwarf with a grey-white beard so long that it nearly dragged over the ground.

“Don’t panic, Radsvidr.” The giant tried to appease the old dwarf. The village elder of the dwarves was completely distraught with anxiety. “Are all casualties retrieved yet? Where have you brought them?”

“Many of our people have gotten off lightly and only have minor injuries.” Radsvidr who still had panic in his eyes reported. “It is still unclear how many are still missing but one thing is for sure: Among them is the Princess…”

Abruptly Friedbert realized why the dwarf elder was so panicky. It was the biggest news of the last days: Princess Himiltrud von Waldbergen visited Dulnitz for several days to get an idea of town and province. The highly intelligent young woman was the only child of the second marriage of King Gunderich II. Sixth oldest of eight children, she was often shunned and excluded in contrast to her five brothers and two sisters. To blame was the blood she had inherited from her mother and which made her an alp, that creature which brought nightmares to people, often compulsively. Accordingly she was popularly known as Princess Nachtmahr – at least since her fiancé broke off her engagement because she was an alp. But now today the very same Princess Himiltrud had gone down into the tunnel for the mine’s inspection and was buried alive by an accident.

After the healer had made sure that none of the rescued injured were in a serious condition and then had left them to other healers for treatment, he was guided to the collapsed mine shaft by the dwarves. The passageway had been buried by a big rockslide. At first appearance it looked hopeless, in particular as nobody knew how much air to breathe was left for the ones trapped in the depth of the mountain.

Friedbert didn’t get discouraged by this though. “I think I have exactly the right thing for this situation.” he said. Deep in his herb bag there was an unusual plant he had found in the deepest forest and whose fabled effect was now the last hope. He took out this plant known as springwort and laid it on the rock mass. The giant hoped devotedly that the magical herb and the power of the elements would work. And sure enough: The root had barely touched the disastrous boulders, then they burst with a loud bang. The all-bursting power of the springwort had proved itself.

No sooner than the rocky obstacle was out of the way, then multitudes of dwarves flocked into the darkness of the mine’s passageways to rescue the buried. Soon afterwards three dwarves, two royal guards, the Princess, and another man could be brought back to the light of day. Fortunately there were no fatalities but one of the dwarves had lost his leg through the rockslide. Princess Himiltrud was even unharmed except for some grazes and scrapes. Her pale complexion and the blueish lips had nothing to do with the suffered shock but branded her as an alp like also the eyebrows convalescing above her nose bridge. That the sky-blue dress had become dirty and the fancily braided chestnut-brown hair had become untidy, didn’t seem to matter to the fifteen years old girl in contrast to ordinary aristocratic daughters. Instead the Princess looked with sorrow in her blue-grey eyes at the unconscious man lying nearby on the ground. He was a very big guy with a full black beard. The foreman Næfi, a dwarf with a flowing red beard, identified him as Leszek. This Leszek was no miner but a skarbnik, a mountain sprite, who had already dwelt in the mountain depths around Dulnitz before the dwarves had settled here with his consent.

“A healer, please!” Himiltrud begged “This man has shielded me from the falling boulders. Please save his life!”

“I am a healer.” Friedbert declared. At the sight of this brawny giant, not only the eyes of the Princess opened in disbelieve, but the locals backed the youth’s statement and even labeled him the best healer in all of Dulnitz. He immediately gave prove of that when he kneed down next to his patient and examined him thoroughly.

“Just some broken bones but that’s nothing that couldn’t be set.” the young man announced the surprisingly slight findings. Then he addressed himself to the first aid of the seriously injured. Only after this had happened, the adolescent healer allowed carefully transferring his patients to Zwergendorf. In the dwarf settlement Friedbert eventually cleaned the wounds of the King’s daughter who had insisted that all those who had more severe injuries should have priority. Ultimately the accident ended without a single fatality, even without any later deaths as a result of wounds, and the brave skarbnik who had risked his life to save the Princess but still had gotten off lightly opened his red eyes on the same evening already. Leszek firmly declined the reward that Himiltrud promised him of out of gratitude. He rather wanted to return to the realm of the subterranean rock passages as soon as possible. Everything else was unimportant to him.

“Therefore, I would like to suggest to you that you return to Herrburg with me as my personal healer.” concluded the Princess. The decisive conduct and also the medical skills of Friedbert made her desire to fill the currently vacant position of healer in her entourage with the giant. Her butler, Dankmar, who was experienced in many areas, had confirmed after careful consideration that the youth’s healing arts might be without equal even among the healers of the royal palace. The young healer himself who had no idea why the King’s daughter had summoned him was completely surprised by the unexpected suggestion.

“Pardon, Your Royal Highness, but I don’t quite know what I should think about your proposal. In all honesty, that has completely surprised me now.” Friedbert replied after a longer silence. He was taught the correct address immediately before the meeting.

When Himiltrud heard this she cheeringly smiled at her guest. “There is no rush for now.” she said “I will be staying in Dulnitz for four more days after all. Should you wish to accompany me to the capital please report on the evening before my departure at the latest.” With those words she dismissed the young man who thought about what he wanted to do in future on the way home.

Quietly some snowflakes fell from the sky when the followers of the Princess gathered to travel back to Herrburg, capital of the kingdom of Waldbergen. Friedbert stood slightly apart, a big deerskin bag on his shoulder. Around him there assembled all the friends and acquaintances he had made here in Dulnitz in the last half year, among them many of his patients and healer colleagues. Present were his landlady Hildegunde and her two children, the eleven years old Dietlinde and the six years old Willebrecht, but also the old apothecary Ortwin and Radsvidr, village elder of the dwarves, to only state a few names. Cheering and encouraging words could be heard but some tears flowed too, like with little Willebrecht who should lose again the much longed-for big brother he had found in Friedbert so soon. With mixed feelings the giant accepted the gratitude and affection he was given.

Suddenly a voice rang out that said: “Mr. Friedbert, it is about time.” It belonged to Dankmar, the butler of the Princess.

The giant thanked the gathered friends for a last time and then he followed the other man to the carriage of the King’s daughter where he took a seat on the coach box since he was unable to ride a horse. From the coach he waved at the gathered people for the last time before he set forth on a journey to an unknown future that would bring him many new adventures and experiences.