"Morghaldt, we are grateful for your assistance. I apologize for our tardiness and dragging you into this, but due to our eagerness to make up for the lost ground and time, we misconstrued the nocturnal dangers of the valley that Fjarland is situated in. We do appreciate your hospitality."
Weimar and Syras walked through the sleepy town that had torches lit outside of the straw and clay homes while the fire mage assisted the wounded knight toward his hovel. Once they stopped at one vanilla-colored home with a dark gray or brown roof, hard to tell in the early dawn light, the boys knew they were finally going to sleep indoors or on beds again. Morghaldt reached out and pushed the wooden door, which opened without so much as a creak, before leading his company in and addressing Sir Globar's appreciative remark.
"Bah! Don't mention it. You are always welcome in my humble abode. Granted, you stick to a schedule and not keep me waiting. I am not sitting down idle despite my age. As a veteran of the Goblin Wars and the Wyatt Worlok Cabal Subversion, novice mages as well as the Guild of Magicians tend to call upon my services or send me letters asking for the best way to hone magic or optimize their craft when they aren't busy trying to keep all enchantment societies in line or the academy needing an update and refinement of their curriculum. Magic is a double-edged sword, you know. It can be beneficial in the right hands, but on the opposite side, it could be disastrous as can be seen when the dark warlock led his dark magic cult -"
Sir Globar cut off the rambling mage. "I understand your concern. I promise to plan our visits better from here on out. How are Donchaddine" - the hurt warrior stopped to cough - "and the little ones doing? I hope we have not intruded on their slumber."
"Oh, not at all. They are used to me waking frequently. A lot of calls from not only the townspeople, but also from the Society of Magi and occasionally from His Majesty King Lothar himself, tend to come at not only when the sun is at its zenith, but also when the moon is as well. The wee hours of the night have not been spared from summons either." The boastful mage took off his hood, revealing himself full of graying hair with a matching goatee. "Doncha! Our guests have arrived. They have had a run in with a darkling hunting party and require medical attention. I'll take care of the kettle and the oven. Novorik tea and West Angolian crumpets will be served regardless."
A young woman with bright-red hair in a bun and dazzling blue eyes who looked to be in her mid-20s to barely a day older 30 came into the hallway before the doorway. The boys felt a warm sensation grow inside them once her eyes scanned them. It felt to Weimar like she had poured a mug of Olampian Nektar down their throats with only her gaze. It looked like their mentor felt the same as he let go of his fire mage ally and knelt before her, Talon pinned to the floor between them.
"Lady Donchaddine, it's a pleasure to see you again. The last time we crossed paths, you were a novice in the Magi Primary. I see you have now grown adept at your craft. My squire and groom need to be checked out before you examine me, I implore you."
Morghaldt guffawed before smacking the chivalrous warrior on the back. "Oi Matie! You look like you have just fought a Voytek bear. You will be worked on prior to your charges. The laddies seem to have minor scratches and bruises, nothing more. Off with you to the sofa. "
"Nay, I cannot stand by and let-"
"Off with you to the sofa!" Morghaldt grabbed one arm while his healer daughter took the renowned knight's other arm as they heaved him up to support his weight. "The boys can stay with Matlock and Kristyyn till their turn arrives."
"Matlock! Kristynn!" Donchaddine called out as they set the Aislundian knight on the sofa inside the main room. Weimar noted the ornate furniture, obvious from the polished wood, that came from the Bothnia forest tundra and the exotic colorful carpet from the Amirate of Khashidi that lay below it all. "Rise from your beds and make haste. We have a party of three for breakfast with one that sustained grievous lacerations."
"I assure you, it is merely a flesh wound," Sir Globar objected. "I have survived much worse in the Muscovite Unrest. Who knew that the Red Yvanoves wanted the White Romanov House deposed that badly?" The tawny bearded knight chuckled before breaking into a coughing fit. "Oh my, that stings my rib cage."
The middle-aged fire mage crossed his arms. "Which is why you will allow my daughter, who is an adept healer-must I mention she graduated first in her class?- to heal your wounds. I forbid you to leave my humble abode until you consent!"
"If this is a humble abode, then I bet this joe musta grew up in a manor or castle," Syras whispered as two kids, a girl who seemed a year or two younger than Willy and a boy clutching a stuffed bear, shuffled into the room, their eyes droopy from fatigue. The girl's matching dark blue eyes and fiery red hair showcased the resemblance to her mother and her grandfather. The boy, on the other hand, had hair that looked as blue as the midday sky and beady eyes. Despite their differences, the way the latter kept close to the former as he gazed at the strangers showed a dependency and bond only the closest of kin have.
Her eyes and hair are as if fire met water, Weimar observed.
"Very well, I won't argue with you, old chap. " Robin Globar raised his hands. "I trust your daughter, whom I know is masterful at her craft, to work her wonderous magic on me. Once I am done, my boys will need medical attention as well."
Syras giggled a bit before Weimar glanced at him.
"What?" The olive-toned stable boy's face was red from laughter. "That one line about working magic on him sounded so funny."
"Really mature, Syras, " the squire muttered. "Though I must say I am not surprised. Your jokes did get us in trouble at the schoolhouse."
Syras clapped his pal on the back . "This isn't a joke, mate. I am only but making honest observations."
"By Albus's robes, you both really stink!"
The boys turned around to see the girl and boy standing beside them. The blue-haired kid sucked on his thumb and looked curiously at the two.
"Kristyyn! " Donchaddine scolded as she looked up from where she was running her hand over the knight's injuries. "That is no way to speak to our guests. You must properly issue an apology."
The red-haired girl rolled her eyes. "Fine! I'm sorry for stating the obvious."
"Wouldn't ya smell like pegasus dung if you been traveling throughout these mountains and had to sleep in a common stable meant for horses or on the forest floor or grassy plain where Charbald knows what had relieved themselves?" Syras countered.
"It's quite alright," Sir Globar spoke. "The boys have been through bandit attacks, fought Jorgynn the Callous and his band of Bleeding Mummies, and recently survived a Darkling attack. I am sure they can withstand a blunt remark from a lass of about eight years. "
With that said, the Aislundian knight then rose and stretched his arms, flexing them and wiggling his fingers. Smiling, he turned to face the healer and her fire mage father. "Once again, a job well done. I am as good as new." He then glanced at his charges. "Your turn is up, I believe. Which one of you has the most injuries? Ah, that would be you, Weimar. Those cuts on your stomach area look deep enough to hurt, not to mention an infection that could be toxic to you. Off you go."
Without a word, Weimar obeyed his master as he took a seat on the sofa he occupied a minute before. As soon as he sat down, the red-haired mage reached a hand over his stomach and mumbled words in a language foreign to him, eyes closed in concentration. Weimar wasn't sure if it was his imagination or the weariness settling over him, but he thought he saw the healer magician's hand glow a bit with a white light that eased the stinging wounds on his stomach. His eyes fluttered and he felt like he was back on the Palisades at the Borvaang peninsula with his father and brother on his nameday. Willy was a wee little babe in his mom's arms as he and Veerus felt the waves on their toes with the wind blowing through their hair. It was the closest thing to a vacation to the Paradas Isles.
Gadzooks! Such a good feeling. I don't want to leave.
"You may rise, young man. It is finished."
Weimar opened his eyes to see that the deep bloody scratches on his belly had vanished and it was unblemished skin once more. Sitting up, the young man strode to where Sir Globar was chatting away with his old friend as Syras made his way to the sofa Weimar had previously occupied. With a smirk and wink at Weimar, the groom took a seat as Morghaldt's daughter began to examine him.
"Lady, I feel a lot of pain. It hurts all over."
Donchaddine examined Syras and his soiled muddy tunics and cloak, both different blue and gray respectively, before responding.
"You have several bruises and small cuts, but alas, nothing too serious that would require me to expend more of my essence. Once I complete you, my task is done. "
Syras stared straight ahead solemnly as the mage mumbled, her eyes closed, ran her hand above and around the boy without so much as touching him. Once more, Weimar thought he saw a pale glow in her right hand and then Syras was dismissed. Morghaldt only cracked his knuckles and cleared his throat before making an announcement.
"Thank you, Doncha. You can go rest now to recover your lost essence. Kids, please set the table while I bring out the crumpets and brew the Novorik tea. Guests, now that you are healed, grace us with your position at the table for a quick pre-dawn meal before you get your much needed rest in the guest room. I'll light the lanterns."
As the elder mage clapped his hands, the Sengedo lanterns' orange , red, and yellow bamboo bulbs, lit up, giving the dining area, complete with an round elmwood table, a warm glow. As Syras and Weimar tool their seats, Sir Robin placed his hands on their shoulders.
"I know you lads are starving and haven't had a decent meal in weeks, but it is proper manners to assist your hosts. I'll be giving my services to Morghaldt with the refreshments. After all, knighthood isn't about only jousting and leading a charge in battle. Best keep that in mind."
With a pat on the boys' back, the knight left to join his old friend. As the kids started to bring in the silverware and plates, the duo got involved by taking the plates and doilies before laying them on the table. Syras scrutinized the silver on the knives, closing an eye, before glancing at Weimar with an astounded look.
"What's wrong?" the squire inquired. "Please don't tell me you are going to take on of those knives as a weapon."
"It's tempting," Syras admitted. "But they are mere butter knives. Useless in a swordfight unless you can throw it from a distance with such force or get close enough to poke someone's eyeballs-"
"We get the idea," Weimar cut him off. "There are youngsters present so I implore you to spare the gory details."
"Och! Such a baby." Syras rolled his eyes. "What I was trying to say that the fact that the silverware, including the knives, were made from Aslani silver and the plates were made from celadon from the Silla Dynasty in the Gornyo Kingdom. Your grandsire must be filthy wealthy!"
"He really is," Kristynn replied. "The King usually summons him to court for help. He also travels to distant lands to attend conferences or to fight wars or advise other magi."
"Zounds!" Weimar exclaimed. "You sound pretty mature for your age."
The redhead rolled her eyes. "Because my grandfather tutors me in reading, history, sums, and magic. Of course I'd be well above the non-educated peasants."
"Dayum!" Syras's eyes grew wide. "This lass doesn't mince any words. That's what we call a baddie where we are from."
"And where are you from?" Kristynn crossed her arms.
"The place of legends and myths called the Backwoods," the dusky groom replied. "It's a part of the southwestern sector of the Outer Territories of the Kingdom of Aislundia. "
The young mage's blue eyes narrow. "Ah, in other words, the boonies?"
"Yup, it provides tough and hardened men for the militia or the Royal army. Wanna see what I can do?"
Kristynn frowned. "And what is that?"
"Display my prowess!" With that, Syras leapt upon the table and stood on his left hand, balancing himself. "The Minggeng acrobatic troupe should recruit me."
"Sy, I think you should get down from there," Weimar suggested.
"Oh, I will, but the young lad seems to enjoy the show." Syras nodded at Matlock, who was clapping. "Thank you very much, young boss." With that, the boy leapt off the table and bowed. "Now for my next act, I shall show you my sharpshooter skills. "
"Sharpshooter?" Weimar frowned. "Syras, you don't even have an arquebus or a bow or crossbow set. Besides, we are indoors and the chances of shattering something fragile are too high."
"Bah!" The other teen dismissed his friend's concerns. "You don't need any of those to be considered a sharpshooter. It is all skill with any object. Besides, I am a crackshot so nothing will be broken in this old fart's house."
I was worried he'd say that. It is like that one time back at Backwoods schoolhouse when he shattered the vial that contained Kaminomoan when he flung his quill at the Memfan beetle that was crawling in it. That really cost us the abacus competition. I would have wanted the extra points on the next exam, but as mum states, there is no use crying over spilled milk.
"I highly doubt you'd be able to get within centimeters of your intended target, "Kristynn responded, crossing her arms.
"Watch and see, lassie."
Syras pulled out a throwing dagger from his waistband and his light brown eyes searched the place until it landed on a painting of an older man that resembled Morghaldt , dressed in gold and black robes. Taking a breath, the young chump took aim and despite Weimar waving his arms in protest, released the dagger. It landed right between the mage's eyes.
"I accept all your salutations." The groom bowed as Matlock clapped, giggling, while his companion stood there with her mouth aghast. Weimar only shook his head.
"Syras, you actually did it. What am I going to do with you?"
Before Syras could explain, voices came in through the hallway. Sir Globar and Morghaldt entered, the former carrying a plate of steaming bread and pastries while the latter brought in the kettle.
"I believe need to discuss - ho!"
The renowned knight froze as he spotted the dagger pinned to the painting. Behind him, the fire mage walked into him, making contact with his back. Sir Globar gasped in shock , nearly tumbling over with the plate, the Angolian crumpets almost toppling out of it. Thankfully, the knight was able to recover his balance as Morghaldt steadied him. Sighing, Sir Globar set the tray down and thanked the old mage before glancing at the boys.
"Alright, what were you boys thinking? Haven't I made it cleat to behave yourself? I am specifically talking to you, Syras Morrizak."
"Oi Oi! I didn't break nothing, did I?"
Syras raised his hands as he leapt off the table and bounded over to the painting, pulling the pointy weapon out, laving a small tear. As Sir Globar was about to berate the young stable boy, but Morghaldt tapped him on the arm, shaking his head.
"Let it be, old lad. It is nothing Donchaddine cannot repair once she has recovered. It will not take more than a couple hours. Just sit and enjoy the meal."
The weary knight thought better of it and complied. Soon, the boys and the children took their seats and dug in to the freshly baked goods. As Weimar spread some Conchordian strawberry jam on his butter biscuits, he spotted Syras chatting with a curious-looking Kristynn from the corner of his eye. As he put the utensil down and placed the small piece of jam-covered bread in his mouth, he noticed that Matlock was staring up at him with bug eyes, sucking on his thumb and clutching his stuffed bear close. Curious as to why the little laddie found him so interesting, Weimar turned to address him.
"So young Matlock, what's the name of your bear? I had one when I was a wee lad around your age. His name was Winston. I gave it to my younger brother Willy when I outgrew him."
The boy sucked on his thumb for a good five seconds before answering. " Baaldure."
The squire nodded in assent. "Quite the dashing name. After the hero of Classic Age who served as the Alfather's champion against Aldira the dragon shifter. I loved hearing my pa tell those stories to me and my brothers each night after the harvest was finished. Sadly, I may not get to see them for some time. I guess that's the cost of living my dream as a knight in training. Such a great position comes with a large responsibility."
As he reached for another piece of bread , he noticed that his master and their host were chattering away in hushed voices. Eager to listen in on their conversation, the young squire pretended to be rising up to harvest some grape jam as the older gentlemen spoke in low voices.
"The bandit and mountain clans have become bolder in their recent attacks," Morghaldt informed Sir Globar. "Not only have they increased the number of their raids, but they have penetrated deep into the Outer Territories. Before we know it, we may have the the Bleeding Mummies, the Blood Orchids, or even the Black Wolves push into the major cities or even into the capital. "
The noble knight nodded gravely. "Indeed, we have recently fought a Bleeding Mummy raiding party in Fjore and I am pleased to admit that we have put an end to Jorgynn the Callous as well as quite a number of his plunderers. Weimar and Syras pulled their weight as well in the fight to repel the raiders. What disturbed me was the fact that the mayor paid off the marauders to keep his war party from pillaging his office. "
The mage's eyes darkened a bit. "Ah, that's quite troubling to hear. Next thing we know, the town council will pay off the Fell Riders to attack those who are less fortunate, most notably the smallfolk. Bah! I'd wager that it will bite them in their arses once they fail to please the ghasts and no one will feel a shred of empathy for them. Serves those yak herders right for neglecting their duties as civil servants."
Sir Globar only sighed and shook his head. "What I fear is that the corruption runs really deep within the High Crest Royal Offices, including the military. There is word of many troops deserting their posts and resorting to thievery or banditry. I also hear rumors that King Lothar himself is becoming lackadaisical and is losing touch with reality. Please assuage me of my fears."
Morghaldt only scooped a mouthful of jam-covered biscuits and chewed for several seconds before replying. "I am afraid the king himself has gone soft. His advisor Radon is the one running things. His cousin, the Baroness Shredder of Redwood, is building up her forces to storm the kingdom once more. This time, she might coordinate with the Skrath raiders who are purported to have the discrete support of the Frostfallen Kingdom. "
The valiant knight shuddered as he sipped his Novorik Tea. "Each time the Skrath or Shredder's guerrillas struck, we only held them back by the whiskers of our chins. If they sense blood in the water now that the once mighty Aislundian military is now a shell of its former glory, then this kingdom is in for a dire situation. "
"At this rate, even the jester could mount a successful coup against Lothar and the Kamon Dynasty," Morghaldt added while he reached for more grape jam. "He will be as helpless as a pheasant during hunting season if the Golden Khannate or their Black Horde cousins turn their attentions to the kingdom. If something like that happens, which I feel is inevitable, then even the Jassarites and the Janusars , smelling blood in the water like goblin sharks, will cross the continent to have a piece."
"Hmm." Sir Globar frowned before he reached for an Angolian crumpet. Realizing his hand was too far, he asked Syras or Weimar to hand one to him. Weimar reached for the tray, but Syras, his reactions and reflexes quicker, had already handed one to their guardian. "Thank you. I am sure it will not come to that. A few others knights and myself have made a deal with the officers of the Aislundian Defense forces to train the troops in all kinds of warfare techniques to better prepare them from any threat whether from within or without. The weather will not play a factor in their ability to defend our beloved kingdom. As far as I can see, the knights are the Kamon's best hopes should their Dynasty come under threat of defeat."
The mage snorted, tearing apart a piece of bread. "Bah! You know how many troops are in the Defense Forces, not counting the Territorial and the National Guard? From what Radon tells me, we have had a drop in enlistment since after the Night Queen Affair. Against roving brigands and the occasional Waykona pirates, they'd persist, but none of them stand a candle in chance if the enemy is King Sanjay of Massala or the 3rd Hardradan of the Varangi."
The brown-haired knight clenched his fist. "You must have faith, my friend! With this attitude, of course the kingdom won't stand on its two feet if it comes under pressure."
Weimar glanced over at Syras, recalling that his father served in the infantry unit of (guard). How was he taking in the fire mage's criticism of the Aislundian soldiers? It seemed like the bronze-skinned teenager was not paying Morghaldt any heed, chatting with his granddaughter instead. Well, all for the better as he would rather not have the boy getting in a battle of wits with the old man. He was too tired for it.
Once the meal was done, Sir Weimar dusted himself and rose. "Well, it is time for us to express your gratitude for having us , my friend. It is time the boys and I got our rest so we can move on. We will make do in the stables."
"Nonsense, old chap!" Morghaldt objected. "We have guest rooms here. You are not steeds to sleep in stables like wandering vagrants. I'll ask Donchaddine to prepare the rooms for you. "
"That isn't ne-"
Morghaldt raised his hand to cut the knight off. "Nah! I won't hear it. I know you are on your way to the capital of Aislundia for your reasons and you need your rest. Besides, we will have provisions ready for you too. Speaking of horses, one of our stablehands found yours wandering about in the plains , scared witless. I wouldn't blame them as darklings are not to be taken lightly, but just so you know that they are safe in the stables, which means no room for you there."
Sir Globar just raised his hands in submission. "You got us there, master mage. We will be honored to remain as your guests. If you like for us to assist in anything during the duration of our sleep, please don't hesitate to let us know."
Morghaldt nodded. "Duly noted. " He then stopped and pondered for a bit. "Actually, I do have a favor to ask of you. I know not why the true reason of your visit has changed, but since you are a guest under my roof, you get treated with hospitality. "
"True visit?" Weimar frowned, tilting his head to the side.
"You mean we didn't come this way to visit your old pal?" Syras inquired.
"I haven't forgotten the true purpose of why I requested to meet with you," Sir Globar responded. "We were just merely sidetracked with everything that has happened since the bandit and darkling ambushes. I will furnish more details about it once the lads are safely tucked in."
"Not to appear vain or snotty, but may I ask why it needs to wait until we are out of earshot? We are big boys, not wee lads."
Their employer gazed down at them, frowning slightly. "Weimar, Syras, I know you two are grown men and I treat you as such else I wouldn't have taken you on in my employ. You must be aware, however, that even I have matters that are privy only to me and the party involved. This is not that, I don't trust you two. Quite the opposite, really. You both need your rest."
"Doncha, are the rooms ready?" Morghaldt called out to his daughter.
"Aye father! I'll escort the lads to their beds."
The red-haired woman arrived and motioned for the boys to follow. Weimar and Syras complied with the healing mage's directions and followed her down the hallway, gleaming with polished Rookwood tiles, before they came into a room that resembled a cabin up on the Bear Claw mountains.
"These will be your rooms for the duration of your stay. Once you catch up on your much overdue slumber, you are welcome to join us for lunch before you and your master leave for the capital, Arnorshardt. Should you require anything, I'll be right down the hall. Rest up, little ones!"
Syras groaned and rolled his eyes. "Gah! Must we remind the adults each time that we are not wee ones?"
Weimar paid no heed to his friend's grumblings as he slid inside the Ursid fur blanket and wrapped them around his sleep-deprived body. The warmth engulfing him lulled him into a quick visit to the realm of dreams.
---
"Thank you from the information, my old friend. I need confirmation of his identity before I speak with her. I do hope King Lothar would be swayed into action by your words. We know how complacent he gets these days. Not even Prandal can convince him to oversee the administration of the kingdom's government, military, and economic affairs."
"Fear not, old chap." Morghaldt chuckled. "For I am sure I can offer an incentive that will get Lothar's fat rump off his throne. I do find it jovial that we refer to each other as 'old.' We aren't old. We are young at heart."
Sir Globar smiled and shook his head. "Fair enough. I appreciate your due diligence to a matter not related to the kingdom's security or prosperity. Name the price and you can consider it done."
The fire mage scrunched up his face deep in thought before he replied.
"There is something I have been dying to get my hands on in Pyrakis, which is one of our enclaves for the Guild. I assure you that it won't be that difficult to retrieve this sacred item from the Magi Guild's library. I would have done it myself had I not had my hands full with my daughter and the two kids she is taking care of. "
I am pretty certain you are using family matters as an excuse for laziness as I am confident Donchaddine is capable of taking care of everything on her own.
"I will be glad to undertake the quest with the boys to this temple for you, but I must know one thing. Will they let anyone not of the guild prance inside? Are there any enchantments in place that deter intruders? Besides, what's the significance of this artifact we are picking up for you? The last thing we need is to face some magical golem."
Morghaldt threw his head back and laughed. "No worries there. I assure you that all you need to do is to tell the young adults at the circulation desk that you are there on an errand for me and you shouldn't have a problem. As for the item, I am getting to it. Doncha, please bring over more Novorik tea for us!"
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