pace despite her short little legs. “C’mon, Milli,” he said and grabbed her by the arm. “It’s just a mule. It’ll be fine.”
“It hates me,” said Milli yanking her arm free and turning to look at Brogus with eyes so fiercely blazing that he took a step backwards.
“It doesn’t hate you.”
“I hate it and it hates me. It has lice, it bites, and it walks cockeyed and makes me want to vomit. Who invented an animal like that? Were they sadists? Halflings weren’t meant to ride animals. I’m done with that lice ridden flea bag forever,” she said with her hands on her hips and spittle flying from her mouth. “Forever!”
“Milli, you have to understand, it’s still a hundred miles or more to Das’von and Corancil. You’ll never be able to walk all that way.”
“I can walk all that way and more,” said Milli and folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not getting back on that hell beast!”
“It’s not just about walking,” said Brogus. “Don’t you think they’ll be chasing us? Trying to get us back to Craggen Steep, to get the hammer from Dol. We need to keep moving. If we don’t, they’ll catch us. You don’t want to be dragged kicking and screaming back to there. After all that talk about how you are finally free.”
Milli stopped and stared at Brogus and scrunched her nose. “I know there’s something wrong in the world when you start to make sense. Fine, let’s switch mules at least. Yours seems nice enough. It doesn’t bite at least.”
“Yours is the smallest,” said Brogus with a gesture back towards Dol, where he stood patiently holding all three beasts. “That’s why we gave it to you. Your legs are even shorter than ours.”
“I don’t care, I want yours,” said Milli and immediately stomped off down the dirt trail away from Brogus.
Brogus looked over to Dol and shrugged his shoulders. The hard-packed dirt road was six feet wide with an occasional wagon rut to indicate the passage of traders. After they escaped Craggen Steep the three decided to take this less traveled road, rather than the thick stone avenue built for the heavy wagons filled with weapons that came from Craggen Steep at regular intervals. This way they hoped to avoid any possibility of an encounter with traders. Tall pine trees, some of which towered almost fifty feet in the air, lined both sides of the road, and the crisp chill in the morning air made for steamy breath as Brogus shook his head and sighed. “I suppose mine is the next smallest,” he said walking over to where Dol patiently awaited.
The tall dwarf busied himself applying a curry brush to the animals with singular care, occasionally reaching into a pocket to pull out a carrot slice and feed it to the beasts. They had come across a patch of wild pusillus carrots the day before and somehow Brogus remembered them from a previous expedition. Early in the trip it hadn’t taken them long to realize their inadequacies when it came to understanding local plants and animals. They had packed enough staple food items for several weeks, but the speed which they devoured these rations quickly brought them to the realization that they would need to hunt and gather for supplies. None of the three having spent much of any time outside of the mountain; they quickly found themselves worried about their supplies of food and drink. No one had thought to bring along books that might help them forage for food. The plants were all strange, although plenty of creeks with fresh flowing water supplied that need at least. None of them had even rudimentary skills at trapping live animals for meat.
“We’re going to starve to death if we let Milli walk,” said Brogus as he watched Dol feed the only food so far scavenged to the mules. He took the reins of both his and Milli’s animal and started to walk after the girl but didn’t get more than a dozen strides before he noticed Dol was not following him. “What’s going on?” he said looking back to the other dwarf with raised eyebrows. “Milli’s getting away”.
Dol pointed with a single finger down a little trail off to the side of the main thoroughfare. It was all but invisible, and if they hadn’t happened to stop almost on top of it Dol would have never seen it. ”Smoke”
A thin wispy trail of white smoke emerged from somewhere down the path and Brogus spotted it after a few seconds of searching glances. “Do you think we should see who it is?”
“We need food, water, a new mule,” said Dol in a steady voice.
“Milli!” shouted Brogus and started to dart after the Halfling girl, but Millli’s mule decided at that moment not to move which brought Brogus to a sudden and jarring halt. He looked at the mule and shook his head, “Maybe you are evil.” He then turned to face down the road where the form of the girl was still visible, “Milli! Wait! We found something.”
Milli walked a few more strides and then slowed to a stop although she didn’t turn around.
“Please, Milli,” said Brogus as he tried to pull the stubborn mule forward. “Come back.”
She glanced over her shoulder with narrowed eyes and shook her head.
“Hold the mule, will you Dol?” said Brogus and held out the reins to the young dwarf. “I’ve got to go convince her. She’s just mad because of the sunburn,” he continued as his hand went to the back of his own neck. His ruddy complexion seemed less vulnerable to the damaging rays of the sun although he also wore a wide brimmed hat thanks to previous experiences with trading caravans. “I should have told her about sunburn. We were in such a hurry!”
After Dol took the mule, Brogus scurried over to Milli and started to put his arm around her shoulder although a fiery glance turned the movement into more of a wave. “Milli, there’s someone back in the woods there. They might be able to help us. We didn’t think about food or drink.”
She glared harder.
“I’m not saying it’s your fault, I’m just saying we didn’t think about it, Milli,” said Brogus holding up his hands in a defensive manner. “It’s nobody’s fault, we made a mistake, but there might be somebody there that can help us. Maybe they have an extra mule?”
Milli’s expression softened, she tilted her head to the side, and nodded her head. “Fine.”
Ten minutes later the trio approached a ramshackle old wagon, once painted bright red but faded to a dull orange after years in the sun, parked near a fallen tree. A large black kettle sat in the middle of an open fire with wood piled around it. A woebegone horse picked desultorily at the scrabbly weeds that sprouted just on the edges of the little clearing. There was no sign of anyone else in the clearing.
“Hello,” said Brogus in a loud voice. “We are travelers hoping to share a meal and perhaps trade.”
Silence greeted this proclamation and the three waited for a long moment. “This is stupid,” said Milli stamping her foot and scowling at the ground. “You’re stupid. The mule is stupid and my neck burns!”
“What’s that,” an elderly woman’s voice suddenly sounded from somewhere around them. A moment later she emerged from the woods and stared at them with a guarded expression. She wore a thick woolen coat many times patched at the elbows, her long black and gray hair was both frizzy and unbound giving the impression of a wild woman. “What is it that is stupid, young lady?”
Milli took a step forward toward the old woman and put on her best smile, “I didn’t think there was anyone here. I’m so sorry. It’s a lovely little camp you have. I’m Milli and these are my friends Dol and Brogus. We happened on your wagon and thought you might like visitors.”
“When did she get so nice?” whispered Brogus to Dol and held his hands at about waist height with the palms facing up.
“Visitors are always welcome,” said the old woman with a cackle as she came over to Milli and put her arm around the Halfling girl. “Do you need a love potion perhaps?”
“No, no,” said Milli and her cheeks instantly went red. “Nothing like that. We’re just travelers. We do have some gold.”
“Gold,” said the old woman as her eyes opened a little wider for a moment but then a rather bored expression seemed to come over her face. “Dwarves with gold. I’ve encountered a few of those over the years up here in the north realms. But you don’t have the look of traders, more like runaway apprentices… excepting you, dearie,” this last with a pat to Milli’s arm. “But, of course I’m being terribly rude, my name is Petra Galabradala but everyone just calls me Old Petra. My camp is your camp,” she finished with a flourish of her hands towards the little clearing, although her eyes carefully looked over the clothes and general bearing of the visitors.
“This is Dol,” said Milli as the tall dwarf with the short hair came over and gave a little bow, “and this is Brogus.”
The old woman looked at Dol carefully for a few moments and then turned her intense gaze onto Brogus, “Tree Shepherd blood in your veins then,” she said turning back to Dol.
“That’s right,” said Dol.
