Pool of Twilight - James M. Ward [89]
"Well, sit down already." The old man gestured to a fallen log. Kern and Listle sat obediently. Miltiades remained standing, as was his custom, eliciting a scowl from their host.
"Excuse me, sir," Kern finally blurted out as a steaming bowl of stew and a newly carved wooden spoon were shoved into his hands. "But would you mind… er, that is, could I ask your name?"
"You can call me Trooper," he replied, handing Listle a wooden bowl. "I suppose it's as good a name as any I've been called and no doubt better than some!" Apparently he thought this some sort of joke, for he broke into a long fit of cackling laughter.
"No, thank you," Miltiades voice echoed inside his visor when Trooper offered him a bowl of stew. "I do not require food."
Trooper's bushy eyebrows knit together. "No, I suppose you wouldn't." He shrugged and began eating his stew, blithely ignoring his company.
Unsure what else to do, Kern swallowed a mouthful of stew, and for the next few minutes couldn't think of much else to say.
"Er, by the way," Kern said finally, "My name is Kern Desanea. And this is Listle Onopordum." He gestured awkwardly toward the elf, who was busily shoveling food into her delicate elven face. Trooper grunted noncommittally, apparently none too impressed with this information.
"And our companion is Miltiades," Kern added, gesturing to the paladin.
This name caused a flicker of interest in the old man's keen eyes. "Miltiades?" he said, setting down his bowl. "Now, I'm getting on in years, but I would be a spring chick a dozen times over compared to the paladin Miltiades. Tales tell he lived more than a thousand years ago." He shot a stern look in Kern's direction. "You wouldn't be pulling my leg, now would you, son?"
"He speaks the truth," Miltiades said, lifting his visor. The sight of the paladin's fleshless skull didn't raise so much as a shiver out of the old man.
"So he does," Trooper nodded. "Greetings, Miltiades, from one warrior of Tyr to another. I see that the old fellow doesn't have the decency to let you enjoy the rest you've earned."
"Tyr has given me a quest I have yet to complete," Miltiades intoned solemnly.
Trooper snorted, slapping his knee. "Is that so? Well, Tyr had better not try to raise these old bones once they're settled, that's all I can say! I'll look him flat in the eye and tell him to bother someone else's skeleton."
After they were through eating, Kern and Listle helped the old man clean the dishes.
"These are very nice," the elf remarked as she examined the spoons. Each was carved in a unique shape that followed the whorls and curves of the wood. "Did you make these yourself?"
"That I did," Trooper replied with more than a little pride in his voice. "Just this morning, in fact."
Suddenly a frown crossed Listle's face. "But how did you know to carve three of them?"
"It's always a good idea to be prepared for company," Trooper snapped cantankerously, taking the spoons and stowing them away. "As your presence here indicates, I might add."
Listle didn't pursue the matter, but her curiosity was definitely piqued.
"We've come to look for someone in the mountains," Kern explained. "She's a friend," he added.
"I should hope so, if you've come all this way just to look for her!" Trooper replied. He pulled out his rune sword and began polishing its edge with a bit of oilstone, carefully smoothing away small nicks and spots of rust. It was a beautiful weapon, with an intricately wrought hand-guard and strange carving all the way down the flat of the blade. Kern noticed at least one symbol that he recognized well-the scales of Tyr engraved on the sword's hilt
"You're a paladin, aren't you?"
Listle rolled her silvery eyes. "You mean you've only just now figured that out, Kern?" She leaned toward Trooper, shielding her lips with a hand. "It's only