“Have I met you?” Dashyl asked the burly fellow who sat
across from him at a table so large that he could barely see over the top from
his seat.
“Have I met you,” the boy asked. Soern roared with laughter. “Oh, that’s
nice. I save your life and you ask me if we’ve met.” Soern pounded on the table
with his rocky fist making the table jump blotting out Dashyl’s vision of his
host. This boisterous host eventually was able to breath and wiped a tear from each eye.
“Aye, you were unconscious and near death, but you looked up at me and I told
you my name.”
Soern leaned to the side of the table and stared into Dashyl’s
face. He did not see any recognition or sign of remembrance in the boy’s eyes.
His tone grew serious as he sighed and said, “Ah, well, I should not be surprised
when nysik is involved. Nasty stuff, that is.”
Soern stroked his beard and looked out one of the four
windows of his hut. “It doesn’t matter that you don’t remember me, I still am
dying to know how you come to be sitting in my hut again.”
Dashyl stood up on the seat of his chair and looked Soern in
the eyes. “I’ll tell you, but you have to tell me all you know about meeting me that I
cannot remember. Deal?”
“Aye, we have a deal, an easier deal to uphold I have not
had.” A tea kettle whistled at that moment and Soern rose to his feet and
lumbered about preparing to share his refreshment. "I only have sigilweed tea, I
must apologize if that is not appealing to you. The flavor is harsh, but it helps me
stay awake at my post.”
Fretly nodded and smiled as he took the oversized cup that
looked small in Soern’s hand. “Mmmm,” he
murmured as he drank trying not to make an uncomfortable face.
“No thanks,” Dashyl politely refused and offered the reason, “My father always said that sigilweed tea makes your mind weak.”
Soern’s eyes narrowed and not an inch of his great bulk
moved. Fretly fought hard to not spit out his tea. He swallowed hard and
whispered into Dashyl’s ear. “Never refuse tea from a Kirzan, it is very rude!”
“A Kirzan!” Dashyl shouted. “I’ve heard about you guys, but
I’ve never seen one. You are as big as I’ve imagined. But, you don’t seem very
barbaric.”
“Yes, Dashyl, I am a Kirzan,” Soern stood up as tall as he
could as he said this. “And you will drink my tea.” He said in a voice a few
octaves lower than his normal tone.
“Yes, sir,” Dashyl bleated out as he grabbed the cup with
both hands and took a drink.
Soern smiled and sat on the cot that was his bed so he could
see his guests without obstruction. He sipped his tea eagerly and said, “Begin.
By my most binding oath I will not wait one moment longer to hear your story.”
