Dalquist.'
The two adventurers left the tavern together, still digging into their seemingly endless stores of reminiscences, braggadocio and tall tales.
Dalquist consulted the landlord, Uril, about the availability of rooms for the night. After a little haggling, which seemed to be expected in this town, they settled on a fair price, and the two Questors went upstairs to deposit their bedrolls and travel accoutrements. Grimm's room, on the left at the top of the stairs, was basic but clean, and certainly no worse than the Scholasticate cell in which he had been immured for much of his short life. When he had tidied his belongings into the room's single cupboard, Dalquist knocked and entered.
'Now, Grimm, I know what I told you about being frugal with your money, but we need to get you some better clothes,' the older mage said. 'Those robes are serviceable enough, but some sad, benighted fools will always respect good clothes more than a mage's staff. 'Power and presence complete the mage,' as the Magemasters drilled into us at the Scholasticate. You have proved your power, but a little more presentation will go some way towards completing the effect. We won't be able to run to silk this time, but good quality sateen will go as well, I think. And some new shoes, definitely.'
Grimm did not object to his friend's suggestion. He had spent so long in drab, homespun garments, and he had always longed for better clothes.
The two mages walked around Drute for some time. As Grimm had noticed before, although few of the townspeople seemed to have much wealth, the wares in some of the shops were positively opulent. The various emporiums attracted several wealthy-looking visitors, many of whom travelled with what he took to be bodyguards. Dalquist took the lead in arguing with the shopkeepers, who seemed to respect him the more because of it. At the end of four hours, Grimm had a set of well-fitting robes in blue sateen so dark it looked almost black except when the light played on it. He also now possessed a good pair of supple leather boots, comfortable and yet sturdy.
Dalquist also insisted that Grimm buy some jewellery to complete his ensemble until he possessed some genuine magical artefacts. Although Grimm protested, the older Questor explained that Seculars often judged a mage's prowess by the amount of 'hardware' he carried, and he was not satisfied until Grimm had a fair selection of pinchbeck and diamante rings, and an impressive looking amulet with various cheap but impressive-looking stones surrounding a deep red crystal centre. When Dalquist declared himself happy, Grimm eyed himself in a full- length mirror.
After gazing for many minutes at the unfamiliar, sophisticated-looking young man looking back at him, Grimm agreed his appearance accorded at least with the common Secular conception of a mage.
Dalquist explained that austere, monastic apparel suited some, but that one needed a long white beard and saturnine gaze to carry that off in a convincing manner. 'Now people will take you at sight for a mage without the need to prove it,' he said with an approving nod.
The two mages returned to The Broken Bottle, and spent a little more time sampling the beverages. This time Grimm cautiously allowed a little more of the drink's influence to seep through, although he took care not to become inebriated. Uril declared himself very impressed at Grimm's new apparel, which pleased the young man more than he would have expected. After a good evening meal of beef stew and dumplings, the mages repaired to their separate chambers.
Grimm spent two hours revising from a small book he had taken from his room at the House, but the volume and his eyelids began to grow heavy. The book slipped from his hand to the floor.
As he blew the candle out, he felt satisfied at his first day as a true Questor. He knew he had handled himself well in his encounter with Harman, he had made two new friends and earned their respect, and he had some fine new clothes. He fell asleep within moments, dreaming of honours and plaudits.
After a fair breakfast, Dalquist and Grimm paid their separate accounts at The Broken Bottle and thanked Uril for his hospitality. Shouldering their packs and heading out to the stables, they saw no sign of their horses. Dalquist banged his staff on the ground, releasing a small cloud of blue sparks, and called, 'Boy!'
The stable-boy, Dor, emerged from the stable, his eyes wide and his hair tousled. 'Your horses are safe, I swear, Lord Wizard! I spent all the night with them, so nobody could steal them.'
The boy motioned the mages inside, and Grimm saw he had been as good as his word. The horses' coats and manes gleamed, their hooves were clean and disencumbered, and they appeared content, whickering gently.
Dor stood to one side, his expression anxious. 'Did I do all right, Lord Wizard?'
'The horses are in fair condition,' Dalquist replied after a few moments' close inspection of their mounts. 'You have done well, Dor. Here is the silver piece I promised you, and five coppers more for your diligence. You would seem to have quite a way with horses. Thank you.'
'Thank you, Lord Wizard!' Dor said with a broad grin, proffering a clumsy but respectful bow, his eyes distant. Grimm guessed the stable boy was already dreaming of how to spend the unexpected windfall. Bowing again, the lad made his excuses and scuttled away.
Grimm heard the sound of hoof-beats behind him and turned, to see Crest and Harvel entering the courtyard. Both wore sensible travelling attire, although Harvel's clothes were trimmed with opulent gold and silver piping. The young Questor smiled as he saddled his mount: it seemed the swordsman agreed with the Guild's obsessive insistence on 'presence'.
As he clambered into the saddle, Grimm noticed the swordsman's swollen left eye, surrounded by a dark-blue ring.
'Are you quite well, Harvel?' he asked, suppressing a smile.
'Quite well, thank, you, Lord Mage. I believe I did mention I had a few odds and ends to sort out. Although I prefer sword and bodyguard work, I'm also called upon now and again to persuade reluctant debtors to part with their money. Last night, one of my clients was none too pleased at my visit, and he hit me across the face with a moneybag. That was a bad mistake; he should have paid up without complaint. It'll cost him even more than he owed to pay a physician to straighten his nose and a dentist to replace his broken teeth.'
Crest snorted. 'Once, he'd never have come close to you,' he said with a laugh. 'You're getting too old for this game. I've told you before: you're slowing down, man.'
'He was no bumbling duffer, this mark,' Harvel protested. 'Inches over six feet, built like an all-in wrestler, and he moved like greased lightning. Any other man would have gone down like a pole-axed steer at the blow he gave me.'
A cheerful argument-and-insult session began between Harvel and Crest, to which Grimm was content to listen, marvelling anew at his companions' mutual talents for self-aggrandisement, poetic insult and vainglory. The tall tales lasted well after the party had left the town and taken the west road leading to their final destination, Crar.
A slight mist arose from the ground as the sun began to warm the land. Grimm took care not to press his horse too hard, caressing Jessie with his knees and making appropriate encouraging noises to persuade her to go where he wished. The fierce muscular pains of the day before did not assault him, and he felt much more cheerful than he had only twenty-four hours before.
The prepared route gave way to a simple track, which became at times difficult to distinguish from the barren, dusty plain through which it ran.
On the advice of Dalquist, the party rode all day, making only a brief stop in the early afternoon to rest and to eat. When the sun had dipped below the horizon for a couple of hours and it became all but impossible to follow the vague path, the senior mage finally called a halt. Crest pointed out a stand of trees and bushes some fifty yards off the track, suggesting that this would be a good location to rest for the night, and the senior Questor agreed.
