The wizard, the scholar, and
the soldier were given a small but ceremonious farewell at the gates of the
city. Expeditions setting forth from the School like this were not unusual in
themselves, but the highly uncommon make-up of this group drew a larger crowd
than normally gathered. City representatives joined the officiating Masters to
show respect for Thron as the King’s Envoy. Many in the muttering crowd of
gawkers watched Dunwolf curiously, as if they half-expected the scrawny old man
to explode in a puff of smoke and flame.
But it was Belmok, by far, who
attracted the most attention. To see the towering, reclusive scholar dressed in
armor, heavy pack on his unbowed back and iron-shod battle staff in hand,
waiting with calm hauteur for the ceremony to be over, made many think what a
warrior had been lost to the academic life. Buzzing talk was bandied around the
crowd, about his noble background, his lost brother, his exploits when a mere
student, his enormous learning, his proud attitude. If his sharp ears heard it,
he paid it no mind.
At last the farewells ended and
the three went forth. A few idlers followed them a little way out of the city
gates, but as there seemed no more show forthcoming, they soon straggled back.
Dunwolf, Thron, and Belmok marched along silently for a while. Thron was the
first to speak.
“Well, Mister ‘Dunwolf’,” he
said, voice harsh with sarcasm, “Just whereabouts is this shortcut of yours? It
seems to me you are leading us south, away from the Norkult Mountains.
Don’t tell me you’re lost already?”
The wizard looked over at him,
but did not pause in his walking.
“You still don’t trust me, do
you, Lieutenant?”
Thron snorted.
“I see no reason to,” he retorted.
“You turn up, using a century-gone name, employ a few tricks any street
conjurer could produce, dupe a few innocent old scholars, then take us in
exactly the wrong direction of the place you say we’re going. No, I still don’t
trust you, mister.”
Dunwolf smiled.
“Well, that’s good. That’s the
kind of hard-headed commonsense attitude that will carry you far in your career.
I can see why King Vez trusts you for this kind of thing.”
“Then will you kindly answer
the Lieutenant’s question?” Belmok asked, looking over, not breaking his
stride. “I’ve been wondering myself about our rather round-about itinerary. I do
have an interest in this journey, beyond Lieutenant Thron’s suspicions.”
Dunwolf’s smile deepened.
“A couple of skeptics, I see. I
could explain it to you, or try to, but I think you’ll have to see it before
you believe it or start to understand. We’re headed just a little bit farther
down this road. We passed it on our way to Tronduhon, Thron, though I don’t
think you paid it any attention.”
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