that she snorted wine out of her nose when Master Oarly recounted the tale of Sir Hyden Hawk, the squat weed, and the cinder pepper.
After that, Mikahl told the tale of Lord Gregory, and his encounter with squat weed after being poisoned by Pael’s imp.
Before long, it seemed as if a bunch of barbarians and bar wenches had decided to play dress up in a tavern. Uproarious tales were told, and more than a little frolicking took place amongst the lovers. Even General Spyra’s mood seemed to be on the upside of things. But then a young soldier came bursting into the room, all breathless and brimming with news. The room fell silent as everybody took him in.
“My lords, and ladies,” he said mostly to the High King. “There is something out here I think you should see.” The young man looked worried and confused, but not afraid. “The message said that it should be presented to the High King personally.”
Mikahl, feeling more than a little concerned now, stood and gave his wife a kiss on the forehead before making his way around the table to see what the boy was talking about. The others, at least the ones who were sober enough to follow, were right behind him.
When Mikahl stepped out into the evening breeze a shock of emotion came over him like nothing he had ever felt before. “Windfoot!” he yelled as he started toward the horse that his father had given him.
Lord Gregory smiled knowingly. Lady Trella and the rest of the guests who had come outside looked at each other with perplexed expressions. It was obvious that the High King was glad to see the horse, but none of them could figure out why there was a short stubby boot strapped to the saddle.
Phen saw it, and was filled with immediate relief. “Look Oarly,” he pointed. “That’s the boot of yours that Hyden vanished.”
“Aye, lad, it is,” the dwarf said with wide-eyed wonder as he looked drunkenly at the boot, then back at Phen. “Does this mean…?”
“Wait, wait,” Mikahl said over them all, as he peered into the boot. “There’s something in there.”
Suddenly the quill-covered head of a small cat-like creature popped up out of the boot and looked around. Phen’s mouth fell open.
“Spike,” he yelled as he ran to greet his familiar. “It’s true, Oarly. It’s true,” he answered the dwarf’s unfinished question.
Oarly, Phen, and the High King were overcome with more relief than they thought was imaginable. The others caught on to the contagious emotion, even though they weren’t sure what the new reason to celebrate was. It didn’t matter, though. For the time being, hope was plentiful and all was well.
Those things alone are most always worth celebrating.
