sparkled with lively intelligence and good humor. If he was an uneducated, malformed savage, he was sadly lacking in the appropriate regret.
“ Well met, friends,” he greeted them genially, his husky voice rich with accent.
He reached over the fence to shake the hand offered by Melkin, who’d dismounted, and then turned to Cerise.
“ My Lady,” he said, with such profound reverence that Cerise decided she could dismount with the rest of them.
“ Forgive me, but I’ve only the contents of my backbag to offer as refreshment,” he began hospitably, but Melkin waved him silent.
With shocking graciousness, the Master said, “We are well fed and rested. Our thanks. What do ye here?”
“ Ach,” he shook his head in boyish ruefulness. “We lent our ram to a needy neighbor this spring and he got to these ewes late. The lambs are just now ready to travel.”
Loren peered around Ari with a smirk to see how Cerise was taking this earthy bit of information. As long as she wasn’t talking, Ari figured they were doing well.
“ What brings ye to these parts, may I ask?” the young man said, with a courtesy you rarely heard in the more civilized North.
Melkin, completely out of character, leaned casually on the fence rail, watching the sheep and looking more human than the boys had ever seen him.
“We’re looking for the old lore,” he said quietly, conversationally. “We’re from the University at Archemounte, researching stories of the Empress. Addah seemed a good place to start.”
The group looked at their first Addahite expectantly, waiting for the derision, a cloud of disbelief across that open face perhaps, a patronizing smile…instead, his eyes lit up and a big grin flashed even white teeth into view. “Ah!” he cried in delight.
Rodge glanced at Ari, raising eyebrows that said volumes.
“Alas,” the smile faded a little as the young man shook his curly brown head. “I am the only son in my family and never had the chance to acolyte. I know of Il and His Ways, but of other things…not as much as I would like. What you need, friends, is a Shepherd. If any were to have lore of the Realms, it would be he.” He glanced behind him at the sheep.
“ If ye are willing to walk a slow pace, I will lead ye as I take these to the high pastures. There is a Shepherd’s hut on the way and ‘twould be my pleasure to have your company.”
“ Kindly offered,” the stranger in Melkin’s body demurred. “But we would not hold you up if we could help. I have been much in this country and would find it fair if ye could just point the way.” The boys glanced at each other. Where was Melkin?
The young man laughed, a little surprised. “That is an unusual thing for a Northerner! How come ye to know this trackless country?”
“ Wolf,” Melkin answered quietly, which not only seemed explanatory, but earned him a respectful dip of the head. Ari’s red brows knit. What did that mean? How many faces did their Master have, anyway?
“ Well,” the young man turned briskly to face north, towards the endless tiers of rising mountains. He pointed a little east of north, towards a faint path that seemed to shoot perpendicularly up the side of the nearest hill. “Take this path to the Wanderway—naught but an overgrown creek by now—cross, then turn towards Clawside and ride, oh, around eight hours or so. If you’ve not found it by tomorrow evening,” he said cheerfully, “you’d probably better head back to the creek and start over.”
Rodge, used to directions in terms of street numbers and distances in terms of blocks, hissed, “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” as Melkin thanked him. He was still muttering in disbelief when they reached the base of the hill a short distance away…at which point he seemed to lose the power of speech. It was an almost ludicrous incline.
“ Dismount,” Melkin tossed over his shoulder as he flung a leg over
“ Well met, friends,” he greeted them genially, his husky voice rich with accent.
He reached over the fence to shake the hand offered by Melkin, who’d dismounted, and then turned to Cerise.
“ My Lady,” he said, with such profound reverence that Cerise decided she could dismount with the rest of them.
“ Forgive me, but I’ve only the contents of my backbag to offer as refreshment,” he began hospitably, but Melkin waved him silent.
With shocking graciousness, the Master said, “We are well fed and rested. Our thanks. What do ye here?”
“ Ach,” he shook his head in boyish ruefulness. “We lent our ram to a needy neighbor this spring and he got to these ewes late. The lambs are just now ready to travel.”
Loren peered around Ari with a smirk to see how Cerise was taking this earthy bit of information. As long as she wasn’t talking, Ari figured they were doing well.
“ What brings ye to these parts, may I ask?” the young man said, with a courtesy you rarely heard in the more civilized North.
Melkin, completely out of character, leaned casually on the fence rail, watching the sheep and looking more human than the boys had ever seen him.
“We’re looking for the old lore,” he said quietly, conversationally. “We’re from the University at Archemounte, researching stories of the Empress. Addah seemed a good place to start.”
The group looked at their first Addahite expectantly, waiting for the derision, a cloud of disbelief across that open face perhaps, a patronizing smile…instead, his eyes lit up and a big grin flashed even white teeth into view. “Ah!” he cried in delight.
Rodge glanced at Ari, raising eyebrows that said volumes.
“Alas,” the smile faded a little as the young man shook his curly brown head. “I am the only son in my family and never had the chance to acolyte. I know of Il and His Ways, but of other things…not as much as I would like. What you need, friends, is a Shepherd. If any were to have lore of the Realms, it would be he.” He glanced behind him at the sheep.
“ If ye are willing to walk a slow pace, I will lead ye as I take these to the high pastures. There is a Shepherd’s hut on the way and ‘twould be my pleasure to have your company.”
“ Kindly offered,” the stranger in Melkin’s body demurred. “But we would not hold you up if we could help. I have been much in this country and would find it fair if ye could just point the way.” The boys glanced at each other. Where was Melkin?
The young man laughed, a little surprised. “That is an unusual thing for a Northerner! How come ye to know this trackless country?”
“ Wolf,” Melkin answered quietly, which not only seemed explanatory, but earned him a respectful dip of the head. Ari’s red brows knit. What did that mean? How many faces did their Master have, anyway?
“ Well,” the young man turned briskly to face north, towards the endless tiers of rising mountains. He pointed a little east of north, towards a faint path that seemed to shoot perpendicularly up the side of the nearest hill. “Take this path to the Wanderway—naught but an overgrown creek by now—cross, then turn towards Clawside and ride, oh, around eight hours or so. If you’ve not found it by tomorrow evening,” he said cheerfully, “you’d probably better head back to the creek and start over.”
Rodge, used to directions in terms of street numbers and distances in terms of blocks, hissed, “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” as Melkin thanked him. He was still muttering in disbelief when they reached the base of the hill a short distance away…at which point he seemed to lose the power of speech. It was an almost ludicrous incline.
“ Dismount,” Melkin tossed over his shoulder as he flung a leg over
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