“We’re on a mission,” Caiside answered him. “We are traveling up to see a wizened woman who lives in the low mountains, well past the Drearwold.”
“A wizened woman? A human, you mean?”
“That’s right.”
“Far to the north? I’ve never heard of such a person.”
“Word has come down to us, recently,” Caiside said. This was not completely a lie; we had indeed made up the story ourselves just a few days ago. “What with the increased numbers of people and creatures moving about in these hills, in these wilds, her tale has been shared.”
“And so you are – something like pilgrims, then?” Wutherby asked.
“That’s right,” Caiside said. “My young friends here are just embarking on their lives and have much to learn. As for me, I have been around more, but I like to think that I too am not too old to listen to wiser voices.”
“So Flicker and Freydis here have – existential questions, something like that?” Wutherby asked.
“Of course we do,” I said. “You can’t find all the answers in Enkel Kanindal, we know.”
“Certainly not,” he said, but it was clear to me he had his doubts about our story. But he asked no more – keeping his own counsel, I would say – and let the others continue.
“So, what sorts of things does this woman speak about, to your knowledge?” Vigbond asked.
I panicked a bit at this, and tried to conjure up an answer; but Caiside, it turned out, had more verses of her song ready to go:
Why your favorite socks will wear out faster than the others;
why you won’t find cherry tart that’s as good as your mother’s.
Why we should bear children, given this world of disquiet;
why a key will seldom turn, the first time that you try it.
When a question from your wife is a request to act;
How to turn down invitations with some poise and tact.
How to give your children proper help but not too much;
Our advice to them should not just turn into a crutch.
“Hang on, say that again?” Vigbond stopped her.
Caiside expanded:
How to ensure children can take actions for themselves;
how to build their self-esteem so they’re not awed by Elves.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Good enough, sure,” he said, nodding, “but I meant that bit prior to it. About one’s wife.”
“Ah yes,” she said:
Wives will tire of ord’ring you to tend to this or that;
might not want to say outright you’ve donned a shameful hat.
Oft a question from one’s wife is really a request
to change how you are working, or perhaps how you are dressed.
Sometimes wives do chat, though; just ask questions for no more
reason than to pass the time. To keep from getting bored.
She could well believe that your green topcoat is just fine,
but asks about it just to learn what style’s in your mind.
“Now see,” Vigbond said, “that’s good. That’s really good, right there. How is one to know? When she’s phrasing it as a question either way? I think a lot of Dwarves could benefit from that. Wow. That is really fascinating, I must say. This woman up there can explain all that?”
“So it is said.”
“Well then, she sounds very helpful.”
He turned to address the Dwarf behind him.
“Did you hear all that, Borlund? Does that ring a bell for you and Grunhilda?”
“Um, sure,” the Dwarf said. “Interesting.”
Vigbond shook his head, muttering something that sounded like “ignorant lout.” He turned back to Caiside.
“You know, I’m thinking I might journey up myself. I believe I would have some questions for her. And perhaps some of these coalheads here would want to join me, I don’t know.” He flipped his thumb back at the other Dwarves.
“So, definitely, thank you for that. For that lead about this counselor.”
“You are welcome to it,” Caiside answered.
“However,” Vigbond continued, “you’re all under arrest. We’re taking you back to Gray Mount as captives. My captives, specifically.”
“What?” Freydis asked. “We’re just passing through. We’re harmless wayfarers.”
“Well, in truth you might be wayless harmfarers, I believe,” he said.
“Come on, Vigbond,” I said. “I was just arrested last week.”
“By whom, though?” he asked. “Thorfin, right? This is different. Come along now, we’re heading west.”
Caiside, next to me, rocked on her crutches and said something under her breath. Freydis shut her eyes in disbelief and raised her hands to her head.
But Wutherby intervened:
“Listen, Vigbond. All respect, but you should think about this. What kind of prize would these three be? Ask yourself honestly, you know? What’s it going to be like marching back into Gray Mount with, what –” he glanced at us – “one woman who can barely walk, and this skinny trumpet-player, here – who’s already been arrested just a week or two ago, as he said – and then another woman? Even if that one is, you know, maybe the most formidable-looking one of the lot.”
He looked at Freydis as he said that last bit, but she was just glaring at him. He turned back to Vigbond.
“Do you see what I’m saying? There are firbolgs trespassing out here, and maybe some brigands, all sorts of threats. We might run into some of those cretins from Death Crags, or maybe even farther out from Uaerlig Veikryss. But you come back with – this?” He gestured toward us. “And the one male is named – Flicker? No one’s going to compose a panegyric about you for bringing in a Flicker.”
“Come on now, Wutherby,” I said.
And Caiside actually spoke up then in my defense:
“It is a noble bird, the flicker. Proud. Broad-shouldered.”
But Vigbond seemed to be thinking it over.
Wutherby continued: “To set yourself apart from the old guard, you’re going to have to, you know – set yourself apart.”
“Well then, maybe you’d like to personally befriend a wyvern we could capture,” Vigbond growled.
“But very well,” he continued. “You three can continue your transit of our SwornBorn land. If we meet you on your way back down, I’d like to hear about this sage, if you find her. Have you come across any other intruders out here?”
Freydis, Caiside, and I all waited just a split second too long, I feared, before we answered:
“No.”
“No.”
“No one else, no.”
-but Vigbond did not seem to notice our hesitation. Wutherby, though, once again looked at me intently; but he let it pass. We didn’t know if the Dwarves were aware of the independent kobold colony, of course, but at any rate they didn’t hear about it from us.
*
A bit later, as we continued our walk, Freydis asked:
“They must know of those kobolds, right? I don’t know how they wouldn’t come across them.”
“And their fields,” Caiside added. “That many kobolds must be raising a good amount of crops somewhere nearby.”
“Maybe they know of them,” I said, “but pretend they’re not there. So as to claim that they have taken over this area. They may be glad to overlook them if we do too. Who knows.”
Becky Matsubara from El Sobrante, California, CC BY 2.0