like someone I know. And about which of them is worse, I’d say that mad hermit. Hrun
is my friend, after all.”
Hrun grunted in appreciation.
“Here’s what we can do for you unknown heroes. You can go to Scarburg from a place
near its gate. A bit of trees then the way should be clear. And before I forget, here’s
your trinket. The armor and weapons are yours to keep. Consider it as payment for the
entertainment. Never had such excitement in so long a time!”
“Can we go now? Though I do hope the inn still stands.”
“We can leave now if you want. I believe the inn is still there. You did destroy a lot of
their catapults before they were able to use them.”
Turning to Habrok, Rumpr scrutinized him, palpably sizing up his ability to travel.
“Habrok, my friend. Don’t forget our deal. I won’t. When you’re ready for the
introductions, leave a stone rune around the place where you will exit. Stick it to the
stone and the rune will do the rest. And if you think you still can’t walk, our friend
Jorund here can carry you like a teeny-weeny princess.”
Habrok vigorously shook his head.
Their journey back was uneventful. They exited, as Rumpr promised, in a place filled
with trees. With the threat of the jotnar still in the air, there were no people around.
Even the distant road they could spy between the trees appeared to be empty.
The three gave their thanks to the two ancient beings, with Hrun just nodding in return.
Immediately thereafter, he turned and left them, leaving Rumpr. Hrun was clearly not
comfortable outside of his familiar surroundings. Rumpr stood where he was, watching
them getting ready to go through the trees.
“Young Havard, a moment if you will.”
Tyler walked to where Rumpr was. The elemental beckoned for him to come closer and
then whispered in his ear.
“Please take care of her, lad. Hrun and I may see you again. We’re very fond of
traveling. And we are known by different names in other places.”
Rumpr smiled at him and winked before he turned and walked into the stone wall.
The three entered the town gates without incident. There were guards but their tired
dirty faces and nicked armor spoke volumes of the struggle to defend the town. As they
entered, Tyler saw that the square just after the gates was full of bodies covered with
blue cloth. Arranged in rows, they were the real price for the town’s defense. At various
bodies, families were crying. In a few, an old man or woman knelt beside the deceased.
Around the square were a few of the town’s defenders with their helms removed. All
were grimy, clearly exhausted, and wore armor which bore the hallmarks of a hard
battle. But everybody stood.
Portions of some buildings were burnt but nothing major seems to have been
destroyed. Large rocks peppered the road, now pitted with craters of every size. Few
people were wandering the streets. On their way to the inn, he just saw two instances
of a group of more than three people and these were busy repairing some structures.
From an atmosphere of fear, the town now exuded weariness. The smell of smoke in
the air didn’t help ease matters.
Finally, the inn was in sight. Tyler smiled. It was still intact. But he could see that it was nearly empty as usual. No boisterous voices echoed. People were still too weary to
drink. The three went inside the inn. He waited with Habrok while Jorund talked to the
innkeeper for their arrangements. But Tyler could feel somebody watching him. Not a
threat, he could sense, but definitely interested in him. He turned to his right. There, in a corner table of the inn, sat the one-eyed old man with an unfamiliar bearded
companion. Seeing his attention, the old man smiled and raised his cup in salute.
FREAK ME. Just when I wanted some rest.
CHAPTER LORE:
Ellri – Old Norse. Meaning “ancient.”
CHAPTER XIX
Of Gods and Plans
Tyler went to the old man's table. He had told his two companions to go ahead to their
rooms. Jorund had reservations and wanted to stay. But Tyler was adamant. The
warrior peered carefully at those waiting for his liege, blanched, and gave a reluctant
nod.
“Hail, young mage! My thanks and congratulations for a task most excellently done!”
“You're welcome,” said Tyler in a low voice as he took his seat.
“Permit me to introduce my son, Torvald, a warrior of the Oak.”
He looked at the red-bearded man. The warrior was huge, sculpted muscles
complementing his enormous physique. The man wore simple scale armor lacking
ornamentation but without a helm, his long red hair fixed in a ponytail. Torvald’s arms
were festooned with metal bracers, marked with small runic sigils.
Thor. His comic book counterpart definitely looks better. He looks as if he needed a
bath. Or two. And Torvald? Come on!
The warrior was watching him, curiosity dancing in his eyes. One hand held a cup of
drink. Too apparent in his actions, thought Tyler, the old man has his son beat in that
department. Torvald also raised his mug in salute and took a long drink out of the cup.
Tyler turned to the innkeeper and asked for three cups of mead.
“What brings the famed Gangari to this humble inn?”
“Good! You remembered the name!” The old man was obviously amused. The mead
arrived.
“My thanks, mage,” said Torvald, as he took another swallow of his mead. But the man
continued sizing him up.
“Of course, one doesn’t forget one of your fame. It’s not every day one gets to meet
you.”
“Well said, my boy. But this visit is to thank you. And for you to meet my son. You did
beat up one of his men recently.”
Tyler tensed. The old man looked at him and gave a wry smile. He did observe Tyler's
reaction.
“Torvald is not here for a fight. If that’s what you're worried about.”
“But our young mage here… did play with Helgi.”
“He forced the match. Even when I told him our strength would better serve in the
town's defense,” answered Tyler, irritation showing in his voice.
“He was still one of mine. And beaten by a mere mage.”
“I still bounced
