Stables always smelled pleasant to Titus. Sure, most didn't enjoy the odor of horse sweat and manure. But since he'd been old enough to walk, Titus had enjoyed the time he'd spent cleaning the stables and helping to care for the horses. It had also been the first place he'd been with a woman, though reflection on the past made Titus realize that a stable loft wasn't perhaps the most romantic of getaway locations, even if this one had been off in some hamlet east of Altdorf. He'd been young then, and so had Theresa. He'd not seen her since his regiment had marched off, but he'd daydreamed of the peasant girl more than once.
Now Titus offered Reisander a carrot from Zelda's kitchen, which the horse happily chomped on. "Off again, old friend. I hope you enjoyed your night in a nice warm stable. Who knows when the next time you'll stay in one will be, eh? I'm sure there will be nights even I wouldn't mind a nice warm stall to sleep in."
Reisander wickered, then bumped his snout against Titus' pockets. Though the stallion was probably looking for more carrots, Titus liked to think the warhorse was as eager to be off as he was.
He brushed and curried his steed, then set the blanket and saddle on. He was just ready to lead his mount out of the stable when Maximus came down, yawning and stretching.
"An early start, is it?" the short noble asked, glancing up at the still brightening sky. The sun was hidden by the many buildings of Altdorf, but Titus knew with a soldier's instinct for time that it was just now peaking over the horizon.
"I'm off to the family home for one more goodbye, but then it's straight on to Estalia. I don't think it would be wise to keep Lord Gelt waiting, do you?" Titus asked, his tone amused.
Maxwell snorted and shook his head. "Of that you are correct, I assure you. I'm actually surprised he let you keep the sword. Though from what he said I think he assumes ownership of the blade by proxy."
"All the more reason to be off, eh?" Titus asked, giving Maxwell a half grin. He stuck out his hand, which Maxwell took and shook, his grip firm, and his hands surprisingly callused for a noble. Not the callus' of a swordsman, but those of a craftsman. Perhaps there was more to magery than Titus knew.
"Do right by my sister, Max," Titus said, and pulled the man into a side hug. "She's fond of you, and as her little brother, I do want to see her happy."
"As do I. I've actually tried to convince her to marry me, but she's reluctant. Zelda's a wild one, and far more interesting than any girl I've met at court," Maxwell chuckled, thumping Titus on the back.
"That doesn't surprise me," Titus sighed, and the two men parted and grinned at one another.
Just then, there was a noise by the boarding house's door, and Zelda bustled out, followed by a frantic looking Freya, who was holding several saddlebags that were positively bursting at the seams.
"Wait!" Freya cried, and hurried over, dropping her saddlebags and rubbing her hands together. She looked positively nervous, and far from the composed and aloof elf that most people would picture when thinking of one of her race. "Master Rann, I, ah, I was wondering…would you perchance be willing to take a traveling companion with you?"
At the same time as Freya spoke, Zelda stepped up and put her hands on her hips. "Running off with only a goodbye and not even a word of thanks? And to leave without even bidding Freya farewell! Honestly Titus, I would have thought you had better manners than that. Mother certainly raised us better."
Titus blinked at the verbal onslaught, but leaned to look past his sister. "Lady Freya, I thought you were a lecturer at the Imperial College."
"I am! But, ah, I am only a pro tem professor. And I can take a leave of absence whenever I like, as you see, my real purpose here is to study the history of other races!" Freya explained, hurrying around the other side of Zelda. For some reason, Titus thought his sister was fighting back laughter. Was she setting him up for something?
"Well, I'm afraid I don't plan on visiting many libraries," Titus said politely. "I was planning on visiting my family again to bid them farewell, then to take a barge up to Marienburg, and from there secure passage to Estalia."
"Zelda…" Maxwell said, looking rather put out. "Not the elf. You've heard the rumors, she-"
"Max," Zelda hissed, and lost all interest in lecturing Titus, grabbing her boyfriend and steering him away to have a low but obviously passionate argument while Titus and Freya talked.
At Maxwell's words, Freya blushed and looked down, apparently embarrassed and uncertain of what to say. Titus studied her for a moment, and noticed that her bust size was still at the more modest level from before. "You look, ah, quite lovely this morning, Lady Freya."
She looked up, a shy grin on her face. "Oh? Ah, thank you, Master Rann…"
"Please, it's just Titus."
"Well, then as I have said, please just call me Freya." She tucked some of her blonde hair behind her ear. She had on a wide brimmed and somewhat unfashionable straw hat with a dark green ribbon about the cap, and a riding dress with similar coloring, with a pale green jacket over the top. All in all, she looked rather like a country lady from a well off merchant or crafter's family.
"So, you were saying you thought my journey would be a chance to study the history of other races?" Titus asked, raising one eyebrow.
"Yes! You see, nothing is known about your sword, or its history!" Freya dug around in one of her saddlebags for a moment, then pulled out a dusty looking volume with heavy wooden covers, which she opened and hastily paged through. "You see, while authors like Balaric of Middenheim or Ivanova Ekaterinovich speak of a rumored thirteenth blade, they have no concrete details as to its forging or intended purpose."
"I see," Titus said, somewhat confused. He glanced over at Zelda and Maximus. Max was pulling at his hair, while Zelda was raising her hands to the heavens. He couldn't hear a word they were saying, despite the redness of their faces and expansive gestures indicating they were shouting. Must be some sort of sorcery. He turned back to Freya, who was reaching for another book. "That doesn't explain why you wish to accompany me."
"But don't you see? This is a chance to write an authoritative volume of your sword, its properties and usage, and perhaps learn more of its origins!" Freya said excitedly, looking up from her armful of books. "Instead of just reading about history, I would be a scholar out there in the field, like Erik von Rhunstead, or Thurvar Gromsonn."
"It's…a bit different, being out in the field," Titus said hesitantly. "Are you certain you-"
"I can be useful! Uh, you saw last night…and I can do other things! I speak four languages, including Tilean, which is very close to Estalian and I have several books with me to help with that, and I'm a passable cook, and I-"
Titus held up his hands to forestall the flood of words. Really, she sounded more like an eager girl than anything else. "I don't question your competence, Freya, and to be honest on such a perilous quest the help of a wizard, especially one of the elder race, would be welcome. I merely mean this: Do you know of the privation in the field? What it's like to sleep on hard ground, or go hungry and thirsty as you trek through the wilderness?"
"Well…I came here, didn't I?" Freya said bluntly. She sighed, and knelt to stuff the books into her still overfull saddlebag. She shot a glance at Maximus, who appeared to be on the losing end of the argument. "And besides, it can't be worse than what they already say about me."
From Titus' perspective, it seemed that Maximus was one of those individuals who disliked elves. Truth be told, until having met Freya, who seemed both far humbler and, well, more human, than the elves he'd encountered before, Titus wasn't overly enamored of elves himself. Still, on a deadly quest, having a scholar and a wizard along would be a boon. Doubly so for Freya, as all but the most ignorant or arrogant men would admit the elves were far more skilled in sorcery.
He extended a hand to Freya, helping her to her feet, then hefting one of the saddlebags. He grunted. "Well, this might be a bit much for your horse."
"Oh! That's why I have a pack mule," Freya said brightly, motioning to a long eared beast in the stable. "I wouldn't want to burden Lady with my books."
Nodding, Titus went over and got the harness and saddlebags on the pack mule, while Freya went and saddled her own horse, a graceful gray mare that looked rather spirited. When he came out, Zelda was smiling at him, while Maximus looked rather put out.
"I'd be a fool not to take her," Titus told the nobleman. "It's a perilous quest, and she's a capable wizard. I saw what she could do to a group of toughs. And besides, you never know when a loremaster can come in handy."
Zelda beamed at the remark, and Max sighed and nodded.
"I'll just help Freya with her horse," Zelda said, and bustled off.
The men watched her go, and Maximus leaned forward. "Look. She's not normal."
"She's an elf. I don't think any of them are normal by our standards," Titus said, nonplused.
"You don't understand. The other elves don't think she's normal either," Maximus hissed, watching as Zelda and Freya laughed, cried, and hugged one another.
"I confess, she's much more humble than I expect one of the elder race to be," Titus admitted.
Maximus gave him a pained look. "They think she's a deviant. And from the rumors I've heard, they're right."
Titus opened his mouth, but Maximus continued in a harsh whisper. "Watch yourself. Don't be enthralled by her sorcery. Here, take this." Maximus held out an amulet, made of gold and worked with several runes. "It should ward off any bewitching spells."
"I think my sword can handle that, but I do thank you," Titus said, taking the amulet and tucking it into his pouch.
"Wear it, you fool! And don't let her entice you to your doom," Maximus urged. Before he could say more, the two women returned with the saddled mare and laden mule.
"Well, it's time to be off then," Titus said.
"You'll just go and leave me, just like that?" Zelda huffed. Then she let out a cry as Titus lifted her up and spun her about in a bear hug, before kissing her on both cheeks.
"Fare you well, big sister," Titus laughed. "Do tell mother about Maximus. She'll be tickled pink."
With that, and while Zelda was still sputtering, Titus vaulted up into his saddle. To his surprise, Freya easily jumped up into her own high cantled saddle. She certainly wasn't riding side saddle like a proper lady, and showed quite a bit of leg, which Titus rather appreciated.
"Yes! Let us be off," Freya agreed. Then took out a book and a pen. She licked the pen, getting a bit of ink on her nose, and began to scribble in her book, even as she kicked her horse into motion.
Chuckling, Titus waved farewell, and rode off with the sunrise at his back.
As he left the stableyard, Zelda edged closer to Maximus. "Did you tell him?"
"I tried," Maximus snorted. "The fool doesn't understand that the elf is trying to get into his codpiece. Unnatural is what it is."
"Oh, be quiet. Some would say a nobleman courting an innkeeper's daughter is unnatural," Zelda huffed.
"Zelda, it's not the same. She has a reputation, and you know it," Maximus pleaded.
"And to the best of my knowledge, and from what Freya has said, she's still a maiden," Zelda said, giving Maximus an exasperated look. When he stared back incredulously, she added, "Well, not for lack of trying on her part. She's just…"
"Attempting to have unnatural relations forbidden by the gods and the law and custom of both men and asur," Maximus harrumphed.
"Oh stop it. She's sweet, if rather awkward, and Titus is a grown man. Besides, you saw how he looked at her. They'd be good for one another," Zelda declared, sticking her nose up in the air.
Maximus just grunted, and stroked his chin. He glanced over at Zelda. "I really would marry you, you know."
She flushed. "Don't make this about us! Or change the subject!"
Chuckling, Maximus shook his head, and said a prayer to Sigmar for Titus' immortal soul.
At around the same time, a man sat in a tavern, his head on the table. Two empty mugs of ale lay on the stained and scarred wood plank before him, with another in his hand, and one more on the floor.
"Another," he rasped. "I need another baaaaaaaaa- OH GODS, QUICKLY!"
As he sobbed quietly to himself, a mug of ale was slammed into the table. He looked over and up, and up, and up. Not at a face, but at a very tall fur cap, which towered over him. At the top of the cap was the snarling face of a raccoon, with the tail poking out the other side, despite the fact that the cap was all of black bear fur. Blinking, he looked down again, into more bristling black fur. And glittering golden teeth.
"Greetings, man," the furry face said. "I would speak with you."
"Uh, if you'll let me have the ale I suppose I baaaaaaaaa!"
Flushing, the man picked up a tanked and guzzled it, froth splashing over his already stained tunic. He groaned, slamming the mug down, and looked across the table, where the stranger was now sitting. They were a dwarf, with a wild black beard, and the rough but sturdy woolens of a somewhat poor merchant of one of that race. The two most outstanding features were that all their teeth were covered in gold, and were quite flat and even, unnaturally so. The other was the outlandish fur cap, which was half as tall as the dwarf was.
"Man. You had an encounter last night," the dwarf growled.
"No I didn't! It's all li-i-i-ies," the man bleated, then rested his head on the table and sobbed.
"What was done to you was done by a she elf, was it not?" the dwarf growled.
Sobbing, the man jerked a nod. "Don't tell anyone," he pleaded. "Not my wife…not me friends! They can't know I was…I was…"
"A sheep," the dwarf grunted. "I care not. I have no love of elves. You have to know that about dwarfs, don't you?"
The man nodded drunkenly, not lifting his head. "Yes…"
"Good. But I wish to know of her companion. I heard tell that he bore a strange blade."
"Dunno about the man. He had two swords. Sharp ones. Killed Luthor and Mark, he did."
"But he did have an unnatural blade. One with a rune like this on it." The dwarf slid a bit of parchment, on which a strange rune was scrawled in charcoal.
The man looked at it, blinking. "Yeah…yeah I suppose so. Why?"
"The man. What was his name?" the dwarf demanded, leaning forward.
"How should I know? We was robbing him, not asking his name," the drunken man slurred.
"Hmph. Well, you've told me something, at least." The dwarf slid across the other mug of ale, which the man guzzled again.
The dwarf watched him drink it all, then nodded to himself, and without another word, walked out of the tavern. As he did so, behind him, the man began to cough. Flecks of blood coated his fingers, and he stared at them, horrified. Then his eyes rolled up in his head, and he fell off his bench, twitching on the floor, blood and froth coating his lips. The tavern keep didn't even notice at first: he had few guests at this hour, but when he did he went over and watched the man die. He looked up, but the dwarf was gone.
With a shrug, he patted his former customer down, relieved him of the little money he had left, then went to see a man he knew that was interested in corpses. There were always plenty of those in Altdorf.
The ride back to the Pole and Whip was a pleasant one, though slightly more awkward then the ride to Altdorf. Freya was a pleasant enough companion, though she did seem to be rather terrible at small talk. They chatted amicably enough for an hour or so about a variety of nothing topics, mostly about the weather and the planned barge ride up to Marienburg.
After that, Freya got lost in a book. Titus got a look at it, and it seemed this one really was a history of the Estalian Crusades instead of a more sultry sort. Either way, Freya was obviously fascinated, and made a variety of notes in her book, muttering to herself. That earned her some odd looks as they passed various travelers, but as her horse was quite fine and her dress clean and well made, and Titus was heavily armed, they were left well enough alone. Titus assumed everyone thought they were an eccentric lady and her bodyguard, which suited him fine for the time being.
They made good time on the road, and arrived right before noon. The inn was busy but not crowded, and Gunter saw Titus coming some distance off. He hooted and raced forward, with Titus swinging down from the saddle to greet his brother.
"You're back! Who's the lady, Titus? She's pretty!" Gunter gasped.
Titus almost said she was an elf, but bit his tongue. Freya was obviously going out of her way to disguise her race, and he didn't see the need to share that bit of information. While his family had elves stay at the inn from time to time on their way down the river, they were always regarded with superstition and mistrust. While dwarf traders were always welcome, elves were seen as far more alien.
"This is my traveling companion, the scholar Lady Freya," Titus said. "Freya, this is my younger brother Gunter."
"Ah, hello," Freya said, smiling down at Gunter. She noticed he was staring at her bared legs and blushed, then nimbly sprang down from her saddle, clutching her hat to her head. "I'm pleased to meet you, young Master Rann. Your sister has told me much about you and your family."
"You know Zelda? Are you a sorcerer too?" Gunter said, studying Freya with all the interest of a healthy young lad.
"She's a licensed wizard of the Imperial College," Titus said gruffly, cuffing Gunter to get him to behave. "Take the lady's horse, Gunter. And the mule too."
"I named him Tristain," Freya said, patting the mule on the muzzle.
The name niggled Titus' head, but he didn't know where until they were nearly back to the inn. He guffawed when he did, earning him a look of puzzlement from Gunter and Freya. Gunter had been babbling on about wanting to visit Altdorf and see the city, while Freya had been listening with a look of vague interest plastered on her face.
"Nothing," Titus said, shaking his head. "Just something I thought of. But yes, you should go visit Zelda at some point, Gunter. I can give you her address."
"Mother says I'm not old enough to wander off alone, but I'm nearly as old as you were when you left for the regiments, Titus," Gunter said, standing up a little starter. He was a tall lad, and likely would pass Titus' own height in the next few years. Still, he was young yet.
"I'll speak to her, it would be good for you. Take a stout staff and a good knife, and don't go down any dark allies," Titus said, then handed Reisander over to his brother, and took Freya's arm. She started, then gave him a nervous smile. He leaned down to whisper into her ear, "Don't mind my mother. Do you wish to remain…anonymous?"
He couldn't think of a more polite way to say, "Do you want my parents to know you're an elf?"
Freya fingered her hat, then sighed and pulled it off. Her bosom shrank slightly, though not to what Titus knew was her actual proportions. Though when he looked again, he wondered if she'd perhaps simply stuffed her bodice. "No, I would not lie to your and Zelda's family. Though, ah, I do not wish to overly advertise that I am of the asur…"
"Of course," Titus agreed, then led her inside.
"Titus!" His mother looked up from where she'd been ordering about the serving girls, beaming at him and smiling. She blinked when she saw Freya's ears, and her smile slipped for a moment, but then it was back. "And who's the lady with you?"
"A friend of Zelda's, Lady Freya the Educated, of the College of Mages," Titus said. "Freya, this is my mother, Gerdrut Rann."
"I am honored to meet the mother of two such fine people," Freya said, bowing her head and holding her hat in both hands. "I consider Zelda a dear friend, and already admire Titus for his honor and courage."
That got Mrs. Rann to blink, her mouth open slightly in astonishment. While elves were always punctilious in their manners, they were also typically ones to look down their noses at you. She recovered quickly and curtsied. "Any friend of Zelda's is welcome here!" She looked at her son, her tone and expression slightly wistful. "Will you be staying long?"
"We'll spend the night. But we'll be away on the first barge to Marienburg on the morrow," Titus said, feeling a slight pang of regret. He did love his family, and had many fond memories of this inn. But the idea of a great quest to seek a wondrous artifact in the employ of one of the mightiest men of the age…that was the chance of a lifetime.
After meeting Felix's family, who were all polite if a bit perplexed by Freya, she replaced her hat on her head, and left it firmly in place.
Just as things were settling down, Heidi bustled in, saw Titus, and smiled. "Titus! Back already, then? I thought you were off on some grand adventure."
"Oh yes," Freya piped up just then, talking to Gunter and Julia. "We're off on the orders of Patriarch Gelt himself. We're taking a ship to Estalia. I visited there briefly on my first voyage. It's a fascinating country, with lots of-"
"Devil worshiping foreigners, and the undead!" Julia said excitedly. "Are you really going with Titus?"
Heidi took one look at the beautiful stranger that had the two younger Rann siblings enthralled with her story, then glared at Titus. "No room for a woman on your trip? Hmph!" Then she stomped her foot and turned about, stalking back into the kitchens.
"Heidi, she's-" Titus began, but then sighed and shrugged. How to explain that he'd already seen Freya kill a man while crippling another, and done whatever it was to that poor sheep? She wasn't some peasant girl with dreams, she was an elf and a wizard, which was quite different. Oh well. There probably went his only chance at companionship this evening in his bedchamber.
He turned back to Freya, who was frowning and had gone into lecture mode. "-country and people with a rich history, and a fascinating study of a people who have retained their identity even after being conquered. They have repelled the undead time and again, and during the Crusades against Araby, the Estalians were-"
Julia and Gunter's eyes began to glaze over as Freya launched into a more nuanced description of Estalian politics. Titus only knew that Estalian steel was of good quality, and that over the years they'd produced many a fine fencer. That sort of thing was good for duels, but somewhat impractical on the battlefield.
As the day wore on and evening approached, Titus spoke to various barge captains to secure passage to Marienburg. He had some coin, sent by Gelt to finance the expedition, but the road to Estalia was long, and even a fine purse of gold would only go so far.
"Two and three horses?" a gruff old river captain by the name of Kris Holtmann asked. He was a man unfamiliar to Titus, though his father said he'd been plying the waterways in this region for a year or two. "For that to Marienburg, I'll charge five gold pieces. It includes a cabin for the two of you, and food and fodder for the beasts. Trip will take two weeks. We're not a pleasure craft, but it's easier than walking or riding."
That was a better deal than Titus had heard elsewhere, and the captain was more than correct. In truth, by road it would take the better part of three weeks, and while the road was well traveled, there were always hazards.
"Very good, we'll be ready to board at first light when you depart, Captain Holtmann," Titus said.
"Just have your fare ready," Holtmann grunted.
Titus frowned Freya sitting in a corner of the inn, a mug of ale in her hands, looking around bright eyed at the rowdy tavern. She had two books in front of her, one called Inns and Taverns: A Drinkers Journey and the other her notebook that she was filling with further notes. He was about to go over to her and sit down, with a man not quite as tall as he was but twice as wide sat down at the table across from Freya. He was a wagoneer by his rough hands and weathered face and the whip tucked into his belt, with a bulbous nose and a bald head surrounded by long, black hair.
"What's a pretty thing like you doing sitting alone?" the man asked, leaning across the table and leering at Freya.
Titus felt the urge to charge forward and demand the wagoneer leave, but he held back, curious to see how Freya would handle this.
For her part, Freya wrinkled her nose, and Titus could well imagine the rank breath and stale sweat smell of the man. "Reading, mostly. And noting down the events of my travels so far. It's not much yet, but, well, I suppose it's always important to keep detailed notes on these sorts of-"
"You're a pretty thing," the man interrupted, repeating his earlier statement. "What say you to a bit of dancing or kissing? Come on, then, the boys have been staring at you all night. And why've you got that hat on? A man would like to see your face better."
He reached a gnarled hand up to snatch off Freya's hat, but she slapped his hand away.
"Sir, I did not ask for your company," Freya said, in icy tones that Titus recognized as rather elfish. "Good evening."
"Oh don't be like that. Come on then, they've got a musician. We'll tell the piper to play and you can have a dance with old Gerald and the boys. It'll be fun, eh?"
Freya glared at him, then spied Titus. For a moment, she seemed to ponder something, then she swooned in her chair. "Oh! This horrible ruffian accosts me! Won't someone help me?"
"I ain't accostin' ya, I'm just asking! Come on, we want to have some fun, don't you?" the wagoneer said, his tone needling. He reached for Freya's hat again, and a hot anger welled up in Titus. He stepped forward and seized the man's thick hairy arm.
"The lady does not wish for your company," he said coldly, shoving the man hard enough that he nearly fell out of his chair. "I suggest you depart."
The drunken wagoneer surged to his feet, glaring at Titus. He wasn't completely lost to inebriation, however, as his eyes rested on the two swords Titus bore, the short sword at his belt, and the longsword on his back, and the fact that Titus was resting a hand on the pommel of the one at his side.
"Just askin' for a dance. Didn't mean no harm," the man muttered, and slouched off to harass one of the serving girls.
Titus sat down, with Freya beaming at him happily. He looked over his shoulder to see Julia slap the drunk, who staggered off to get another drink. The man was harmless. He turned back to Freya and frowned. "Why'd you call out like that? You could have handled him, I've seen you fight." Well, that wasn't strictly speaking true, but he had seen the aftermath of one, and the she-elf could clearly handle herself.
"Me? He's a big, strong, burly man. How could an innocent young lady such as myself possibly fight him off?" Freya asked, batting her eyes at Titus.
That irritated him for a moment, but then he gave it a second thought. The use of magic in the tavern would cause quite a stir, if not incite a riot. Superstitious villagers and patrons would cry "Witch! Elf!" first and look for kindling second, and likely catch up the Rann family in their fearful riot. It probably wouldn't come to a burning, but it could certainly be ugly for Titus' family if not handled well.
He grunted, and changed the subject. "We're to leave at first light on a riverboat. The captain is Kris Holtmann. The ship isn't a fast one, but it's not a barge. The trip should take two weeks."
Freya looked mildly disappointed for some reason, so Titus licked his lips and added, "We, ah, will have to share a cabin. It will be cramped, but-"
"Oh! Well, you did say I would have to endure some privation!" Freya said, beaming happily at Titus.
That was odd. Why would she seem irritated at first, then delighted at the prospect of sharing a cabin? Titus had to admit he didn't find the prospect of sharing a room with an attractive woman a loathsome one, even an elf woman. Still, most ladies would be scandalized, and most elves insulted. Well, at least that was one headache dodged.
"Get some rest, we depart early in the morning," Titus told her, and stood to take his own advice.
"Yes, why don't you show me to my room? Perhaps we could…talk?" Freya asked, licking her lips.
"Time enough for that on the journey, but I'll show you to your room. It's small, but clean and with a comfortable bed," Titus said, and turned to head up the stairs to the rooms.
Heidi furiously scrubbed down the tables, the midmorning sun filtering in through the windows. Titus and that she-elf floozy had departed at the crack of dawn for their damned adventure, leaving Heidi behind in the dust once again. Perhaps she should run off to Altdorf and try waiting tables there. Surely that would be more interesting than a life here.
Then again, Yvone Weber had done just that, then turned up only six months later pregnant with some scoundrel's child. It had been the gossip of the town for months, until she'd died in childbirth. Rumor had it the babe had been a mutant, though likely it had just been a normal babe that had perished alongside its mother in a difficult labor.
"Not the life for me," Heidi fumed, throwing her sponge into the bucket. She glared around the inn, then blinked as a figure darkened the doorway.
Heidi was used to seeing dwarfs: merchants of that race often plied the roads, and many stopped at the Pole and Whip as the inn had a reputation for good ale. This dwarf, however, had an odd appearance: his hat was outlandishly tall, his skin more pallid than a traveling merchants should have been, and when he saw Heidi staring at him, he grinned at her, showing off golden teeth.
"Woman. I seek information."
"We don't sell information, just ale and bread. There's some warming in the ovens if you want it," Heidi snapped, still feeling rather irritated.
The dwarf strode forward and flashed a gold coin. "I pay for information."
"Well, why didn't you say so?" Heidi said, and attempted to pluck the gold coin from the dwarf's hands. He snarled and grabbed her arm, his strong fingers digging into her flesh. "Ow! If you want information, you'd best pay up."
"If the information is good, I shall, woman." The dwarf let her go, and Heidi rubbed her arm, glaring at the dwarf.
"I seek a blade. I have heard rumors it is in these parts."
"A blade?" Heidi's mind flashed to what she had seen Titus with. "Is it stolen?"
"That is not your business, but mine," the dwarf growled. "The blade, it bears runes such as these."
The dwarf held out a paper, and Heidi saw the same rune carefully drawn in charcoal that she'd seen on the blade of Titus' sword. She considered for a moment. "This sword…what do you want with it, and the man who carries it?"
"The blade I want. The man bearing it I care not for. Do you know it?" the dwarf demanded.
Heidi's mind raced. This dwarf was clearly the unsavory sort. She'd heard that dwarfs were covetous types, always seeking treasure. The one's she'd met were clearly hungry for gold, and Titus' sword had seemed rather valuable. Perhaps…this might be her chance.
"I know the sword, and who carries it. As well as where they are bound," Heidi said slowly.
The dwarf flashed gold teeth at her, and Heidi noticed that his incisors were over large. They were flat, with wide gold caps like the rest of the dwarf's teeth. "Tell me, and I shall make it worth your while." He showed the gold coin again, but Heidi shook her head.
"I don't like the man. I know your people love grudges. I have one to settle with this man. Do you mean him ill?"
The dwarf studied Heidi for a moment, then growled. "I care not for the man, but the sword I need. I will take it, by whatever means necessary."
"Well, that suits me fine. But I want to go with you."
The dwarf blinked at that, clearly taken aback. "Come with me, woman?"
"Yes! I'm tired of waiting tables. I help you get that sword, and stop Titus and his pet elf," Heidi said.
"The she-elf," the dwarf growled, baring his gold teeth. "Yes…the wretched elf. She must…hmmm. This is what you want, human?"
"Yes. They took a boat. I know a man, one with a fast boat. One who could help catch up," Heidi offered. "You take me with you, and we get the sword back. Then, you pay me."
"Hmm. Hmmm." The dwarf considered the offer, stroking his wild black beard. "I don't like boats. Don't trust them."
"That's the best way to catch up to your sword," Heidi said, folding her arms over her chest and staring down at the dwarf. "So, will you take me with you or not?"
The dwarf considered a moment longer, then nodded. "Yes. Fine. You may come. As my…servant."
Heidi flushed at that. "No! I'll cook meals if I have to, but I want to learn to be an adventurer. You know how to fight?"
Another golden grin. "Oh yes, woman. Oh yes."
"Then you teach me how to fight. When we part ways, I want to be able to strike out on a quest of my own. I'll never be a useless girl again," Heidi vowed.
"Hmm. Hmmm. Interesting. Very well, woman. Now. Where is the sword?"
"I'll tell you when the time comes," Heidi sniffed. This was her one card, and she had to play it well. "But one thing first: My name is Heidi, not woman. And yours?"
The dwarf considered. "Call me…Vicini."
An odd name for a dwarf, but Heidi shrugged. "Alright. Now come. We'll see about that boat ride."
She knew how to hire a fast ship, and beat Titus to Marienburg. After that, they would see. A useless girl, was she? Well. Titus would see. There was more to Heidi Mueller than just another idiot village girl. Oh yes. She'd have her adventure yet.