Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: mar@physics.su.OZ.AU (David Mar) Subject: [Tolvaj] Gebrion: Horse play at the Tall Dwarf. Message-ID: Date: Tue, 14 Dec 1993 23:15:21 GMT [ADMIN: This is the first post in a new thread, [Tolvaj], being written by Alfvaen (aaron@amisk.cs.ualberta.ca) and myself. Please do not post any storyline relating to this thread or characters in it without consulting us first. E-mail comments are welcome. This post is Copyright 1993 by David Mar.] Gebrion rode hard into the yard of the Tall Dwarf Inn just as the heavy sky began releasing its burden in large, wet drops. The stable boy grabbed the reins as Gebrion dismounted. "A fine steed, sir. And she's brought you to rest just in time, by the sky's reckoning. Shall I rub her down?" "Aye," answered Gebrion with a quick grin. He turned to the front door of the inn, then paused, stopping to tousle the boy's blond hair. "And a careful currying," he added, proffering a copper. "Yes sir! Thank ye!" The boy smiled broadly and led the horse into the stable and out of the impending storm. Gebrion allowed himself a private smile as he strode to the door and pushed it open. The Tall Dwarf was situated on the edge of a tiny hamlet in the Barony of Jarpil. The Grand Baron of Jarpil ruled a small land of indifferent farming quality, amidst the myriad petty demesnes of the Great Heath. The inn itself was a good looking two-storey establishment, sturdily built from thick hardwood planks and surrounded by a low-fenced yard which also enclosed the detached stable. It was about the best building Gebrion had seen in several days, and this image was enhanced as he scanned the interior. In the dim light of the overcast day filtering through the windows, he saw a collection of small wooden tables scattered about the room, a handful of people seated at them, drinking and glancing his way, and a small bar, behind which a stout, round-faced man stood polishing glasses. "Innkeeper!" Gebrion called pleasantly, "A room for the night, your best meal for lunch, and a cold ale, please." The innkeeper looked Gebrion over quickly. "That'll be two silvers for the room, and one for the meal and drink," he answered in a casual voice. "My wife can mend your shirt later if you like, sir." Gebrion looked down at the long and ragged tear in his right sleeve. "Yes. Thank you. And can you bring cloth and oil for my sword?" He sat at one of the small tables, laying his sword-belt on the oaken surface. "I had some trouble with orcs this morning." "Mmm," the innkeeper mumbled in distasteful assent as he brought a mug of ale to the table. "We get raiding parties down from the hills all too often in these parts, I'm afraid." He frowned briefly, then brightened a little. "My name is Telwick. From where do you hail, sir?" "Not around here," Gebrion said in a firm voice, then smiled as he took the mug, adding, "And I am called Gebrion." He took three silver coins from a heavy-looking pouch on his belt and handed them over. "Right, sir," Telwick took the hint. "If you'll excuse me, I'll get your lunch and kit for your sword." He bustled away through a door near the bar. Gebrion sipped his ale. When he put the mug down, his eyes met those of another man, deep blue and with a mischievous twinkle. He had a thin moustache, short brown goatee, and flowing hair tied with a thin strip of leather. He was also holding a finely crafted and richly decorated lute. "Good day, sir. I am Gavin, a minstrel. If it would please you, I would be honoured to play while you eat." Gebrion smiled. "Aye, and it would please you even more to see more of my purse." He chuckled good-naturedly. "By all means, I'm in a good mood today. Play well and you shall have your reward." "Certainly, sir." Gavin bowed, retired to a nearby seat, and began tuning his instrument. Another of the guests, dressed in elegant clothing, walked over and pulled a chair from under Gebrion's table. "May I join you for lunch? My name is Tolvaj." "Tol-vie," Gebrion echoed, studying the man's bearing. He noted the neatly cropped blond hair and quick green eyes. His eyebrows were even paler than his hair, being almost invisible, which gave the man an unusual countenance. He was of average height, but slimly built. "Well met. I am Gebrion and yes, please join me. You're a traveller too?" "On my way to Satosi," answered Tolvaj, seating himself, "After attending to some business in these parts." "Around here?" Gebrion said incredulously. "It seems to me the only business here is dealing with orcs! Whatever possessed me to journey from Generica through the Bottleneck Pass, I shall never know." "That's a long way to travel. You must have a good horse." "One of the best," Gebrion smiled. "Bred from Parahan stock. Though it has been a journey interrupted many times by circumstance." "I know what you mean," Tolvaj agreed as Telwick reappeared with a full plate of hot meat and bread and a large bowl of thick soup. As he put it down, Tolvaj said to him, "May I have the same, please?" "Surely, sir," answered the stout innkeeper, returning to the kitchen. When Gebrion and Tolvaj started eating, Gavin began playing his lute and singing softly of elven maidens and long-lost loves, with the patter of the rain and the rumble of the thunder outside providing accompaniment. *** A few hours after Gebrion and Tolvaj had shared dinner that evening, swapping stories of experiences in Generica and Satosi, Gavin rushed down the stairs into the fireplace- and lantern-lit main room of the Tall Dwarf. "Thief!" he yelled, "Someone's stolen my lute!" Many of the people present rose from their seats, Gebrion drawing his freshly oiled sword as he did so. A low roll of thunder echoed down from the hills. "Hold a while," called Telwick, "You're sure?" "Sure as this nose is on my face," Gavin touched a finger to his nose, still speaking frantically. "I just went to retrieve it from my room so I could play. It's gone!" "Now who would do this?" Gebrion asked, "Surely none here now." Telwick looked around the room. "But most of the village are here this night." "I don't think it would be a local," Gebrion commented, searching the room for any signs of guilt amongst the guests. "Where's Tolvaj?" "He retired to his room over an hour ago," answered Telwick. "If he's innocent, he won't mind being woken," said Gebrion, dashing to the stairs, followed by Telwick, Gavin, and a few of the local men. On the upper floor, Telwick pointed out Tolvaj's room. Gebrion rapped on the door, calling Tolvaj's name. When there was no answer, he asked Telwick, "You have a key?" "Of course," answered the innkeeper, fumbling with a large iron ring. He opened the door and poked his head into the darkness. "Sir?" Someone handed Gebrion a candlestick, and he pushed past Telwick into the room. "He's gone," he announced, "And his belongings." "Oh my!" exclaimed Gavin, dropping to his knees, "My poor Larissa! I'll never see her again!" "Take heart," said Gebrion, placing a hand on the minstrel's shoulder. He turned to Telwick. "What quality steed did our thieving friend have in your stable?" "He had none, sir! He arrived two days ago in a passing merchant's caravan - said his horse had been slain by orcs." Gebrion considered this briefly. "He won't get far on foot in this storm, and at night... The stables!" He rushed out of the room and down the stairs. When he reached the stables, they were dark. A few locals, now armed with daggers or short swords, joined him as he lifted the bar and opened the doors. They stepped in out of the rain, but had to wait for Telwick to arrive, puffing, with a lantern before venturing further inside. The light showed the stable boy lying on the floor. "Edgar!" Telwick ran over and lifted the boy's head. Blood matted his hair, but he stirred as Telwick supported him. "My horse is gone," Gebrion said with a resigned voice after checking the stalls. "We should get the boy inside and tend to his wound. I don't imagine we will find our treacherous friend on a fast horse in weather as foul as this." He helped a thickly thewed man lift the boy and together they carried him into the Tall Dwarf. The boy recovered quickly, and with some hot soup in him told how Tolvaj had come into the stables laden with Gavin's lute and his own bundle of possessions and hit him over the head with a broom handle. "And sir," he opened his eyes wide to Gebrion, "your purse hung on his belt!" Gebrion, not used to carrying a heavy pouch of coins, checked his belt and found Edgar's words to be true. The leather thong which had tied the purse securely had been neatly sliced. *** The next morning, Gebrion was woken by loud shouting from the stables. "Foul beast! I'll have your hide for that!" "Sir! Let me take the reins!" Gebrion recognised Edgar's voice. He dressed quickly and went down the stairs. A fat man, dressed in gaudy finery, bustled past him as he walked to the door. "Innkeeper!" the man shouted, "Get me bandages! And a good breakfast!" "I'm not the innkeeper," answered Gebrion, "Though I dare say you've aroused him as well. Excuse me, sir." He walked out the door and made his way to the stable. Edgar was washing a vicious welt on the flank of a fine dappled roan. The rain of the previous night had stopped and the sun was just beginning to dry out some of the puddles left behind. "Good morning to ye, sir," he said, "But not, it seems, to this poor beast." "The man beat his horse?" asked Gebrion. "Yes, sir. And tried again when he bit his hand." Edgar could not suppress a shadow of a smile. "It seems this man set off before sunrise and his horse did not carry his stomach to his breakfast fast enough." "He must be in a hurry," mused Gebrion. He thought for a brief time, then said, "I hate to inconvenience a man of his obvious good breeding, but I am in need of a good horse this morning." He looked Edgar in the eyes. "Can you have him cleaned, watered, saddled, and ready within ten minutes?" Edgar looked up silently at Gebrion's earnest face. Then he broke into a huge grin. "Yes, sir! I certainly can!" "Good lad," Gebrion smiled and extracted a silver coin from a pocket. "My last. Hide it well. Tell everyone that I stole this horse by keeping you at swordpoint. It won't matter, since I shan't be returning to this hamlet again. Now," he turned to walk back to the Tall Dwarf, "I'll be back as soon as I gather my things and have a word with Gavin." "Yes, sir. He'll be ready. I'll put fruit in the saddlebags for you." "Thank you, Edgar." Gebrion strode across the yard. Ten minutes later, Gebrion rode hard out of the yard of the Tall Dwarf Inn. He took the south road, heading in the direction of Satosi. -- David Mar. mar@physics.su.oz.au Astrophysics Department, University of Sydney NSW 2006, Australia.