A deal worth making

„We are roughly in the mountains between Dyrrhachium and Acruvium close to the coast of the Adriatic Sea. Unfortunately Marental used earth magic to get here. Melo, that is the dryad’s name, does not know a conventional way away from here. Marental was convinced that this is Ragnarök. The purpose of this endeavour was to trick me into accepting his aid, upon which he would imprint his soul upon me, instead of being naturally being reborn as Atlanteans are.“ Rereading Hildegard’s report, this time aloud to the others doesn’t make it better.

Helena is looking at her baby daughter and steels herself „Couldn’t you fly to the coast and get supplies for us?“. I am surprised that she speaks up and I need to encourage that. We need everybody. „Yes, but if the goblins see me I’d lead them and the trolls right here and if I leave at night I’d never find my way back. If we find no other way I’ll do it. But I don’t like it.“

On her face her relief that I am not abandoning them and her fear of trolls finding us clash.

Anjali, who is acting like something of a moderator for reasons unclear to us, is beckoning for Zewrepa to speak.

„We found one highly alarming item and multiple potentially useful items.“ She presents us with a metal flask of an oriental design and continues „This contains a summoned creature, that is hungry. I admit that at first, as the warded compartment was opened, I thought that we had an intruder, but this flask is a trap.“ „Is it a weapon?“ Anjali asks. „Unlikely, as the location it was stored at indicates that it wouldn’t be accessed in a surprising emergency. That and the other stuff it was stored together with rather tell us that it is a prized posession even to be hidden from his assistant. Mind you, that does not make it harmless. I do not want to pull the stopper out of the flask without extensive precautions.“ Branislava, who has really started to show her pregnancy during the last few days, states the obvious „The Atlantean traded slaves. Nevertheless, as things are, opening that flask means more drain on our supplies. The flask sustains its inmate, doesn’t it?“ Anjali and Zewrepa nod in synchronicity, while I whisper rough translations.

Branislava continues „Though Lord Wizard, I have a question. I understand that you would not find your way back, if you flew away during the night. But I wonder whether you could fly to the next mountain top before the sun rises, land there and then, when it gives you light, continue to the coast.“

This is the moment I groan and hide the shame on my face behind my hands.

„I deem it necessary to test your defensive capabilities before you execute a flight to the coast“ declares Hildegard. She has roled up a linen sheet and now folds it up, gripping both ends of the role. I prepare myself and nod. Then she makes sure that I decide not to ask how serfs are disciplined in the household she comes from. The effect is odd. The improvised whip is sort of slowed down while it colides in slow motion with my back and the sound the impact makes is largely muted. Then she takes her cudgel and gives my shinbone unwanted attention. Again it hurts, but far less than it should. „That suffices. I am protecting myself. I can go to the ocean.“ I say to stop a woman who is a bit happier to beat me than I am happy to see a woman to be happy about that. She nods and instantly regains composure. Aristocrats.

„Has she said why she hasn’t recovered?“ I ask to change the topic. „That wood is dead, she said. Something that a tree makes that it serve a purpose.“ answers Hildegard. These words stop me. Can I do that? Trying it out is the best way to test it. „Now you have made a staff, which you denied wanting.“ she remarks. She is right. So I make a spear. She makes an approving sound. I proceed to make a kind of low hut with a semicircular layout on skids and crawl in. This makes me think. Can I put a layer of hay on the floor? Yes, grasses are intended to lose their parts above ground in the steppes. I can use that. And I even can make it vanish it with a touch of my hand. „A house you carry within yourself“ she approves. Men are weak. I languish under the approval of an aristocratic girl a third of my age.

„Do you think they will abandon us?“ asks Helena over a cup of tea. „I hope so“ replies Branislava. „What?!?“ a shaken Helena replies. „I don’t know whether you have noticed, but I am pushing quite a belly. Do you think I’ll fare well climbing over rocks?“ she says in a grimly amused voice. „I just. It feels safer if we are not alone.“ says Helena. „Sure, but feeling does not replace thinking.“ states Branislava.

I am flying close over the surface this time, just high enough to not stir up the soft snow, lest I leave a cloud visible even at night behind me. I land on a flatter space next to a ridge at the second closest summit. I make sure the pegs my hut is set up on are securely pushing into crevices before I climb in and seal the opening behind me. I take the time to put a fairly elaborate spell with a heat exchanger condensing water to drip into a waxed reservoir on the pipes for ventilation and close my eyes.

The wind makes the hut vibrate a little. It doesn’t shake. The pegs are rock solid, being set into rock. I think that I should be thinking of home. Without memories obviously I can’t. I am bedded soft and warm. The hay even smells like genuine hay. Again raising the question why I know how hay smells. You get used to everything.

Instead I am thinking about the future. At first I tentatively planned to settle in a nice costal city where I could set up a profitable existance curing people, preferably some of them rich, from the effects of a life without vaccines but with alcohol and loose women available to the rich. Instead my future will be one of war. This makes the answer to one of the questions trivial. I will return. You do not abandon allies in a war. It makes another question acute, however. Who will sell a stranger food, at the beginning of Fimbulwinter? Now, I do not need to tell them about it, but they may already know it from another source. I am carrying Marental’s backpack, which is bigger on the inside, and a bit of spare change and two of the silver blanks Zewrepa has found, but I doubt they will yield what they ought to. Shall I just … steal food?

Zewrepa is munching on fried lizard tails. Nobody else likes them. The little bones in them make them wonderfully crunchy. To be fair, her teeth would regrow if she lost one of them.

Anjali is spooning out one of the dark fruits with the white interior she loves. „Do you think he will return?“ Zewrepa asks. „Yes. He is cautious. We are all he knows and this place is all he knows.“ Anjali answers with confidence. „What do we do if you are wrong?“ – „Open the flask, look for more options and then decide.“ Anjali responds. „You are very quick to answer“ comes the obvious retort. Anjali sighs „Yes, I have considered it. He is unusual. I have known more wizards than I want to remember. Most of them fall into distinct types.“ Zewrepa is unsure how to continue „I do not understand human males. He has so much reason that I have treated him like a female, even though he can fly.“ Anjali laughs out loud. „Your kind must be odd. But don’t worry. He is male. I did not ask for these fruits. He made them spontaneously.“ Zewrepa is confused „Do your males have a special affinity for fruit?“