The Paladins - James M. Ward [8]
"Well-uh-I haven't actually been in a battle, sir, but I thought I'd try them all and see which one works best," replied Noph.
"Interesting approach. But are there any nonlethal ways to tell when a weapon isn't working well?"
Kern and Jacob sniggered loudly; Miltiades silenced them with a glare. "Harloon," he said quietly. "You remember your first days of questing better than the rest of us, so we will leave it to you to be sure that Freeman Kastonoph is properly packed." The paladin turned and strode into his bedchamber, closing the door behind him. With a chuckle and a few winks, Kern followed.
Jacob bowed politely to Noph. "Farewell, Freeman Kastonoph. I go to pack my weapons. Mayhap if I should forget any, perhaps I could borrow some of yours." With a snort of laughter, he disappeared, leaving Harloon and Noph alone.
Harloon approached the young man and began stripping him of his weaponry.
"Hey, I'll need all this stuff if Undermountain is as bad as the guards say!" protested Noph.
"First of all," said Harloon, as he pulled the unevenly loaded backpack from the boy's back, "the danger is ten times worse than those sleepy Waterdeep guards could ever imagine. Second of all, Aleena may have designated you as the pack mule, but we both know better, don't we? Once we hit the trail, none of us can afford to carry your load, along with ours. Therefore, we're going to lighten it right now."
"I can carry it!"
"Not if your leg's broken."
"My leg's not broken."
"If you don't do what I ask, I'll break it." Harloon smiled pleasantly at Noph and opened the pack. He cast away three spare sets of clothing and an extra pair of shoes. Then he pulled aside a heavy blanket and looked underneath. "Have you ever cast a throwing star?" he asked, holding up a handful of them.
"Yes!… Once."
"Did you hit anything?"
"I-uh-I almost killed the cat."
"You were aiming at your cat?"
"Of course not!"
Harloon dropped the throwing stars next to the weapons he had already extracted. "Do you know how to use throwing axes?" he asked, drawing out two shiny new ones from the pack.
"No, but-" The axes hit the floor.
"Do you know how to use throwing daggers?"
"No, but wait. Those looked like fun and they looked eas-" Five shiny new ones rattled and rolled over the axes.
"Do you know how to use a pitching disk?"
"No, but those were real sharp and throwing them wasn't har…" Three freshly oiled ones tumbled over the pile.
"Hey!" cried Noph, grabbing Harloon's arm as the young man dipped into the pack once more. "Do you mind if I carry something?"
"Not at all. That knife in your boot is more than enough."
"But it keeps sticking me in the ankle."
Harloon gave an exasperated sigh, then burst into laughter. As he reached down to show Noph how to sheath the weapon in his boot, he started laughing harder. Soon, he could only kneel and wipe the tears from his eyes.
"Can I at least keep the throwing stars?" asked Noph and he too started to laugh.
"Quiet, Freeman Kastonoph, if you please!" called Miltiades from the other room.
They looked toward the closed door, then back at each other, and continued their stifled laughter. They engaged in mock tug-of-wars with every article of clothing in the pack, while Harloon explained the rudiments of packing light and life on the wilderness trail.
In his bedchamber, Miltiades gazed into a jeweled hand mirror, from which his beauteous wife Evaine looked back. His stern features melted and all his lines of concern smoothed away, making him appear almost as youthful as the boy. He was more than a thousand years old, but his soul-swelling love for his spellcasting wife made time a toy that he carelessly tossed aside whenever he saw her.
"I know it was to be but a diplomatic appearance at the wedding, my darling, but Piegeiron Paladinson himself has specifically chosen us for this quest! The Blackstaff Arunsun is handling the teleportation! With Tyr's blessing, we