Azure bonds - Kate Novak [29]
Akabar furrowed his eyebrows at the small creature's gluttony, but he ladled out another portion of the hearty gruel, a thick barley stock with bits of salted coney seasoned with herbs from the merchant-mage's copious pockets.
"I can see you're keeping our food safe," Alias joked. "Are you sure it's the musical ability of Olav Ruskettle that is renowned, and not her appetite?"
The bard swallowed and wiped her mouth. "The name's Olive, dear. Olive Ruskettle. Don't worry. Everyone makes that mistake."
"Dimswart said it was Olav," Alias muttered as a tiny fear crept over her. Perhaps she had rescued the wrong person.
"Well, I should know my own name, don't you think? The problem is that some fool clerk made a mistake writing it down once on some official document and ever since I've had to correct people."
"I see," Alias replied suspiciously, wondering whether Mistress Ruskettle wasn't wanted under the name of Olav for something more serious than straining rhymes.
"As for my appetite," Olive Ruskettle explained, washing down a loaf of bread with a long pull on a waterskin, "you should know that that witch of a dragon, while having a civilized appreciation for my musical talents, had a lot to learn about the care and feeding of a halfling. Her own eating habits were anything but regular, and I had a devil of a time convincing her that I could not live on raw venison. Then I discovered that her cooking technique left something to be desired. If you had not come along, my dear," she said shaking her head sadly and patting Alias's boot, "I'm afraid my little bones would have joined those of the heroes littering the floor of the dragon's lair."
As the bard continued to make up for a ride's worth of lost meals, Alias thought of the heroes' bones littering the caverns of Mist. Heroes with all the bravado and lack of sense of the halfling. Alias shook her head remembering the bard's outrageous behavior at the mouth of Mist's lair.
Alias's first adventuring party, the Swanmays, had been like that, all flash and fanfare. One encounter with trolls had taught them the wiser course of stealth and surprise.
She remembered the battle with the trolls clearly, as though it had happened last week. So why can't I remember last week? she thought with frustration. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that Akabar nudged her.
"I'm sorry, what?" she asked.
"I said, 'Do you think we'll return in time?' For the wedding, I mean."
"We'd better, or all this effort was for nothing," Alias answered, oblivious to the feelings of the halfling.
Olive Ruskettle apparently took no offense. Her mind was also on other things. "As anxious as I am to make my Cormyrian debut, I simply haven't the strength to keep pace with you. I shall have to have a mount."
"I don't care for sore feet and aching muscles any more than you, Mistress Ruskettle," Alias replied. "We walked here for secrecy's sake, but, since we seem to have eluded the dragon, horses sound like an excellent idea. How lucky for us you managed to acquire so much of the dragon's wealth while I was fighting for your freedom and life. We can purchase mounts at the first farm we come to."
Olive moved the mutton bone away from her face long enough to give Alias an unabashed grin. "I assure you, my feet made a bee-line for safety while you so valiantly risked your life to rescue me. My hands would have felt left out if they'd been any less useful, don't you know?" She waved the bone in the direction of the sacks of treasure. "Please, feel free to consider this the party's treasure to be used to cover expenses. Whatever remains should be divided evenly among those who survive our encounters. Even-" she cocked an eyebrow in Akabar's direction "-if some were less useful than others."
Akabar's brow furrowed in astonishment at the woman's nerve. "That is very