Chapter 4 – Dinner Is Served
The elf, several paces back from the firepit, reacted quickly, dropping to the ground and throwing her cloak over herself; the wall of fire passed harmlessly by her.
The dwarf, standing a yard or so from where the spell was unleashed, was not so fortunate. He only had time to throw his arms up in front of him before the sheet of flame splashed over him.
He stumbled backward, landing solidly on his ass.
After the space of several breaths, he peeked out from behind his hands, eyes wide and face begrimed with soot. His formerly neatly combed and braided ginger-coloured hair was ash covered, and his once fine beard, singed. A small wisp of smoke curled up from it, stinging his eyes.
Stefane's apologies were profuse and sincere, but interrupted by dire threats of bodily harm from the dwarf, who had risen to his feet. The elf jumped forward and had to exert all her strength to hold the angry dwarf back from making good on those threats.
Finding himself mostly unharmed, the dwarf stood shaking, his one good eye glaring at the young man.
Stammering more apologies, Stefane quickly set about collecting some burning branches, placing them back in the firepit.
The elf busied herself putting out small fires that had spread through the meadow.
For something thrown together using a few rabbits, herbs and edibles scrounged from the meadow, the dinner was more than passable. It was quite tasty.
Finishing her meal, the elf stood, stretched, and added wood to the fire. The night was growing cold. Darkness had settled over the campsite. Stars shone brightly. With no cloud cover, she knew there would be a frost in the morning
"I owe the two of you an explanation for my earlier… jest", she started.
That statement was met by a growl from the dwarf who, until now, had eaten his meal in silence. He sat quietly on his blankets, nursing a bottle of ale.
"I would have spoken sooner but considering what happened I thought it best for us to eat first. And might I say, young man, it was a very good meal."
Stefane nodded at the elf. "Thank you. I spent a season working in my aunt's kitchen. She runs a small inn."
"Oh". The elf nodded. "As I mentioned, banditry has increased in the Northern Territory. Two bandits, facing a Herald, would have protested their innocence or begged for forgiveness when I stated they were under arrest. The two of you did neither, but instead acted as honest, if indignant, men. I also learned that you both head north on important personal business. And that you were unacquainted with one another. Your reactions, and anger, were honest. My ruse helped me learn more then you would have divulged if I had peppered you with questions. And, it amused me."
"Now", the elf turned to Stefane. "I think our young mage owes us an explanation?"
The elf returned to the log she'd been sitting on and looked expectantly at the human.
"I do owe you that and more apologies", Stefane said, standing. "My name is Stefane Bogoviche, of the Brilliane Magic Academy in Capitol."
Stefane stopped and looked down at the ground, unable to meet the eyes of his two dinner mates.
"I... I am not a Mage, only a student. I…" he hesitated, took a deep breath and continued. "I am on a quest for my Master. I am to recover a tome, a book of magic. Should I return with it to the Academy, he will grant me a boon."
Stefane stopped speaking and sat back down, concerned that he might have said too much to complete strangers.
"A student", queried the elf? "I would think that your master would undertake such a 'quest', or at least by someone who could control basic fire spells. And why, by all that is Holy on this Plane, did you cast Flame Wall to light a campfire? Goddess be praised that it was minor version of that spell."
"Er, well, I had not meant to cast that particular fire-based spell. I do not even know it." Stefan stammered and blushed. "I… I was nervous and feeling rushed… everything just sort of happened really fast…"
"Yes", replied the elf, in a soothing tone. "I understand that can happen to young men… er, mages."
The dwarf snickered.
The elf turned to the dwarf. "Would you care to share what brings you so far north in the kingdom, Sir Garlt?"
The dwarf's one-eyed glare returned, but now fixed upon the elf.
"You're a knight", asked Stefane?
The dwarf took a long swig from his bottle before answering.
"Aye. An before I says any more, I'd like to know how ye knew that, Herald!"
The elf pointed to the dwarf's pile of gear.
"You carry amour. Your axes are a matched set with beautiful silver inlays. Arms and armour are both well-crafted. Costly. The buckle on the large strap on your pack sports an insignia. Even a herald in far northern human lands knows something of dwarvish heraldry and customs of the south. Odd though – should not that buckle be worn on your belt for all to see, not tying down blankets and cook pots? Also, you move more like a warrior than a miner or prospector. Oh, and with the surname 'Gemfinder' l would expect to see a pick-axe or maul in your gear. I do not."
The dwarf uttered a choice dwarvish profanity.
"Ye're very observant, elf. Damn yer eyes." The dwarf took another pull from his bottle. "So be it. As part of the curse I am under, an' as expiation for me sins, I must tell me story to any who ask. So, listen up good. I don't repeat it an' I won't answer questions about what I now tell."
Stefane and the elf leaned closer, idle curiosity about a fellow traveller now turning to a keen interest in what the dwarf had to say.
"My name is Garlt Gemfinder. It's an old, honoured family name and profession. But I followed me own path an' became a knight. For dereliction o' duty in the face of the enemy, I were drummed out o' the Royal Guard an' banished from me uncle's kingdom. For one hundred years I'm to have no truck with dwarven folk, may not mine, an' must tell all who ask about me craven cowardice. A geas ensures I do that."
Garlt took another swig from his bottle. He then gave Stefane a stern look. "I said no questions, boy, so put yer damn hand down. We're not in yer magic school."
"An' what is a Court Herald doin' so far from Capitol an' the King's court? Eh, elf? Yer turn."
The elf stood and bowed to the dwarf and man.
"I have nothing so interesting to tell as a banishment or a quest. I travel north upon the King's bidding. Well, the King's Council's bidding. I am a Council Herald, thus the bronze emblem on my cloak." She turned to Stefane. "A Court Herald would wear a gold symbol."
The elf continued. "I carry missives, proclamations and orders from the Council to the Baron Pro Tempore of the Northern Territory, in Silver Tree. If you are agreeable Master Bogoviche and you Sir Garlt–."
"It's 'Master Gemfinder'. I am no longer a knight!" snarled the dwarf.
"Call me Stefane", answered the not-yet-mage.
"Very well", said the elf acknowledging each man's preference. "Master Garlt. Stefane. As we are all headed north, I recommend we travel together. As I said, banditry is on the rise. These roads are not safe for lone travellers."
"Agreed, Lady Herald", said Stefane, quickly.
Garlt looked at his two proposed travelling companions. The thieves rumoured to be roving the northern forests in large bands would find a lone dwarf a tempting target. By the All-Father's grace, a Herald's reputation and a junior mage's fireball might send any bandits running.
"Fair enough, 'Lady Herald'", Garlt answered, mimicking Stefane.
The elf laughed. "Then, well met, sirs. And my title is simply 'Herald', but as we are now travelling companions, you may call me Daelynn."