it any longer. He peeked out from under the pillow, and saw Earl packing their gear.
Earl noticed Randall’s glance and smiled brightly. “Good morning young squire!” he said, with entirely too much enthusiasm, and entirely too loudly. “I see that you’re up bright and early! I trust your sleep was sound, and that you dreamt of the serving girl’s rounded posterior?”
Every word was like a hammer blow to Randall’s pounding head. He groaned and tried to burrow back down beneath his pillow.
“Ah, headache?” Earl asked, bright and cheery. Randall only moaned in response. “That’d be called a ‘hangover’, lad. Happens when you drink ‘til you’re falling down. Nature’s way of punishing the stupid, I think. You remember that next time you’re in a pub and have the urge to get hammered.”
He snatched the pillow off of Randall’s head and gave him a wicked grin. “Now rise and shine, boy. It’s time we were off.”
Randall helped Earl carry their traveling gear downstairs, trying to shake some of the cobwebs from his head. His tongue felt coated and his teeth gritty. The sunlight stabbed directly into the center of his brain, even through closed lids. If this is what drinking does to you, I’m never touching another drop, Randall thought miserably. He weakly loaded the cart while Earl settled up with Frank.
Before long, they were back on the road and heading away from Geldorn. The bumpy dirt road didn’t help Randall’s head, or his mood. Still feeling miserable, Randall barely took note of the fact that he was further away from home than he had ever been before. They rode for a couple of hours in silence, until the pounding in Randall’s head diminished to a more bearable level.
“Why don’t you have a hangover?” Randall asked accusingly, when he felt up for conversation.
“Didn’t get drunk,” Earl replied, matter-of-factly. Now that they had left civilization behind them, Earl had dropped the smiles and boisterous tones. Randall realized that they must have just been part of Earl’s disguise.
“But, I saw Melinda bring you more drink than I had!” Randall protested.
“Sure she did. But I’m bigger than you, lad. I can drink more. Besides, how much of it did you actually see me drink ?” Earl asked.
Randall thought about it. He could form a clear picture in his mind of Earl bringing the tankard to his lips and taking a swallow while rowdily telling a story. But he couldn’t really get a clear idea of how many times he’d actually seen Earl do it. He had been much more focused on his own drinking, and simply assumed that because he saw Earl drinking, and because he had seen Melinda bring him a lot of drinks, that Earl had drunk them all. But he was forced to admit that he couldn’t be sure of how many pints Earl had actually downed in the course of the evening. “I dunno,” he concluded.
“Exactly so,” Earl said, as if that settled things. “Now since your curiosity seems to be returning to normal, you must be ready for the morning’s lessons. Let’s go over yesterday’s lessons first, so we can see what you’ve learned.”
“But we didn’t have any lessons yesterday!” Randall said.
“We didn’t?” Earl asked. “You mean to tell me you didn’t learn anything yesterday?”
“Well,” Randall started, thinking. “I learned that I don’t like the taste of beer, that and you say King Priess has Mages in Court. And….Melinda’s butt isn’t as soft as I imagined.”
Earl smirked at that last comment. “Ah, sounds like you learned that there’s still a lot you don’t know. It would serve you well to keep that in mind. I’m getting to be an old man, and there’s still a lot I don’t know. Anything else?”
Randall thought some more. “I probably shouldn’t say,” he started.
“Out with it boy,” Earl demanded.
“Well, you’re an awfully good liar,” Randall said meekly, unconsciously shying away from the Mage. Where he grew up, calling
Earl noticed Randall’s glance and smiled brightly. “Good morning young squire!” he said, with entirely too much enthusiasm, and entirely too loudly. “I see that you’re up bright and early! I trust your sleep was sound, and that you dreamt of the serving girl’s rounded posterior?”
Every word was like a hammer blow to Randall’s pounding head. He groaned and tried to burrow back down beneath his pillow.
“Ah, headache?” Earl asked, bright and cheery. Randall only moaned in response. “That’d be called a ‘hangover’, lad. Happens when you drink ‘til you’re falling down. Nature’s way of punishing the stupid, I think. You remember that next time you’re in a pub and have the urge to get hammered.”
He snatched the pillow off of Randall’s head and gave him a wicked grin. “Now rise and shine, boy. It’s time we were off.”
Randall helped Earl carry their traveling gear downstairs, trying to shake some of the cobwebs from his head. His tongue felt coated and his teeth gritty. The sunlight stabbed directly into the center of his brain, even through closed lids. If this is what drinking does to you, I’m never touching another drop, Randall thought miserably. He weakly loaded the cart while Earl settled up with Frank.
Before long, they were back on the road and heading away from Geldorn. The bumpy dirt road didn’t help Randall’s head, or his mood. Still feeling miserable, Randall barely took note of the fact that he was further away from home than he had ever been before. They rode for a couple of hours in silence, until the pounding in Randall’s head diminished to a more bearable level.
“Why don’t you have a hangover?” Randall asked accusingly, when he felt up for conversation.
“Didn’t get drunk,” Earl replied, matter-of-factly. Now that they had left civilization behind them, Earl had dropped the smiles and boisterous tones. Randall realized that they must have just been part of Earl’s disguise.
“But, I saw Melinda bring you more drink than I had!” Randall protested.
“Sure she did. But I’m bigger than you, lad. I can drink more. Besides, how much of it did you actually see me drink ?” Earl asked.
Randall thought about it. He could form a clear picture in his mind of Earl bringing the tankard to his lips and taking a swallow while rowdily telling a story. But he couldn’t really get a clear idea of how many times he’d actually seen Earl do it. He had been much more focused on his own drinking, and simply assumed that because he saw Earl drinking, and because he had seen Melinda bring him a lot of drinks, that Earl had drunk them all. But he was forced to admit that he couldn’t be sure of how many pints Earl had actually downed in the course of the evening. “I dunno,” he concluded.
“Exactly so,” Earl said, as if that settled things. “Now since your curiosity seems to be returning to normal, you must be ready for the morning’s lessons. Let’s go over yesterday’s lessons first, so we can see what you’ve learned.”
“But we didn’t have any lessons yesterday!” Randall said.
“We didn’t?” Earl asked. “You mean to tell me you didn’t learn anything yesterday?”
“Well,” Randall started, thinking. “I learned that I don’t like the taste of beer, that and you say King Priess has Mages in Court. And….Melinda’s butt isn’t as soft as I imagined.”
Earl smirked at that last comment. “Ah, sounds like you learned that there’s still a lot you don’t know. It would serve you well to keep that in mind. I’m getting to be an old man, and there’s still a lot I don’t know. Anything else?”
Randall thought some more. “I probably shouldn’t say,” he started.
“Out with it boy,” Earl demanded.
“Well, you’re an awfully good liar,” Randall said meekly, unconsciously shying away from the Mage. Where he grew up, calling
Similar Books
