Youre a humorous fellow, I see.
I try. Ive found that a little humor smoothes over the awkward moments when I first meet somebody. It lets people know that Im not really a stranger, but only a friend they havent met yet.
Ill have to remember that one, the now openly grinning man said. And what might your name be, friend I havent met yet?
Im called Althalus.
Is that supposed to be a joke?
That wasnt what I had in mind. Is there something wrong with it?
Theres a very old story in our clan about a man named Althalus. Oh, my names Degrur, by the way. He held out his hand.
Althalus shook hands with him. Pleased to meet you. Whats the gist of this story about that other Althalus?
Well, as it turned out, he was a thief.
Really? What did he steal?
Money, Im told. The Clan-Chief back in those days was named Gosti Big Belly, and he was the richest man in the world.
My goodness!
Oh, yes. Gostis strongroom was filled to the rafters with gold until Althalus came along. Anyway, this Althalus could tell jokes so funny that they made the walls laugh. Then, late one night after everybody in the hall had drunk himself to sleep, the thief Althalus broke into Gostis strongroom and stole every single gold coin there. The story says that he had to steal twenty horses just to carry it all away.
Thats a lot of gold.
It was indeed. Id imagine that the storys been exaggerated a little over the years, though, so there probably wasnt all that much gold in the strongroom.
Im sure youre right, Degrur. I heard a story once about a man who was supposed to be as big as a mountain.
Im going on to the hall, Degrur said. Why dont you come along, and Ill introduce you to our chief? I think hed really like to meet a man called Althalus.
Probably so that he can keep his eye on me. My name might raise a few suspicions around here.
Dont worry, my friend. Nobody takes those old stories seriously any more.
I certainly hope not.
Would it alarm you if I told you that youve got a cat peeping out of the hood of your cloak?
No, I know shes there. I was camped up in the mountains, and she wandered in probably to steal some food. We sort of took to each other, so were traveling together for a while. Whats your chiefs name?
Albron. Hes young, but we think hes going to work out fairly well. His father, Baskon, spent most of his time face down in the nearest ale barrel, and a drunken Clan-Chief tends to make mistakes.
What happened to him?
He got roaring drunk one night and went up to the top of the highest tower to challenge God to a fight. Some say that God took him up on it, but I think he just wobbled and fell off the tower. He splattered himself all over the courtyard.
Everybody dies from something, I suppose.
They went on into the courtyard of the stone castle. Althalus noticed that it was paved, much as the courtyard of the House at the End of the World had been. Degrur led the way up the steps to the massive door and they proceeded down a long, torchlit corridor to the dining hall.
There were bearded men sitting at a long table there, eating breakfast off of wooden plates. Althalus glanced around as he and Degrur approached the table. The bleak stone walls were decorated with battle-flags and a few antiquated weapons, and the logs burning in the fire-pit crackled cheerfully. The stone floor had obviously been swept that morning, and there werent any dogs gnawing bones in the corners.
Neatness counts, Emmys voice murmured approvingly.
Maybe, he replied, but not for very much.
My Chief, Degrur said to the kilted man with shrewd eyes and a clean-shaven face at the head of the table, this traveler was passing through, and I thought you might want to meet him, since hes very famous.
Oh? the Clan-Chief said.
Everybodys heard of him, my Chief. His names Althalus.
Youre not serious!
Degrur was grinning openly now. Thats what he told me, Albron. Of course, if thats really his name, he might have lied about it to put me off my guard.
Degrur, that doesnt make any sense at all.
I just woke up, my Chief. You dont expect me to make sense when I first get up, do you?
Althalus stepped forward and bowed elegantly. Im pleased to make your acquaintance, Chief Albron, he said. Then he looked around the hall. I see that youve made some improvements since my last visit.
Youve been here before? Albron asked with one quizzically raised eyebrow.
Yes quite some time ago. The chief in those days used to keep pigs in this hall. Pigs are nice enough animals, I suppose good to their mothers and all but they dont make very good house-pets. And the dining hall isnt really the place to keep them unless you like your bacon very fresh.
Albron laughed. Is your name really Althalus?
Althalus sighed with feigned regret. Im afraid so, Chief Albron, he replied theatrically. I was positive that your clan had forgotten me by now. Fame can be so inconvenient sometimes, cant it, my Lord? Anyway, since my dreadful secrets out in the open, and if youre not too busy, maybe we can get right down to cases here. Has your clan managed to amass enough gold since my last visit to make it worth my while to rob you again?
Chief Albron blinked, and then he burst into laughter.
Althalus pushed on. Since you already know my dreadful secret, theres no point in beating about the bush, now is there? When would it be most convenient for you to have me rob you? Therell be all that shouting and running around and organizing pursuits, and the like. You know how disruptive a robbery can be sometimes.
You carry your age very well, Master Althalus, Chief Albron noted with a grin. According to that story we all heard when we were children, you robbed Gosti Big Belly several thousand years ago.
Has it been that long? My goodness, where does the time go?
Why dont you join us for breakfast, Master Althalus? Albron invited. Since you plan to rob me of all my gold, youre going to need a few dozen horses to carry off all your loot. We could discuss that over breakfast. Ive got a few spare horses, and some of them even have all four of their legs. Im sure we can strike a bargain on them. Just because youre planning to rob me, it shouldnt get in the way of our doing business together, should it?
Althalus laughed and joined the group of men at the table. They bantered back and forth over breakfast, and after theyd eaten, the young Chief Albron offered Althalus a tankard of something he called ale.
Never mind, Emmys voice murmured.
It wouldnt be polite to refuse, Em, he sent back his silent reply. Then he lifted the tankard and drank.
It took all of the self-control he could bring to bear to keep from spitting the awful stuff onto the floor. Good rich mead was one thing, but Albrons ale was so bitter that Althalus almost choked on it.
Told you. Emmys voice sounded smug.
Althalus carefully set the tankard down. This has all been very entertaining, Chief Albron, he said, but theres a question I need to ask you.
Althalus carefully set the tankard down. This has all been very entertaining, Chief Albron, he said, but theres a question I need to ask you.
The best escape route to take after youve robbed me?
Althalus laughed. No, my Lord. If I really were that other Althalus, Id have planned my escape before I even came down here. As youve probably noticed from my clothes, Im not an Arum.
That had sort of crossed my mind, Master Althalus.
Actually I come from over to the east in Ansu, and Ive been trying to track something down for several years now.
Something valuable?
Well, not to anybody else, probably, but its something I need to have to lay claim to an inheritance. My fathers older brother is the Arkhein of our region.
Arkhein?
Its a title of nobility, my Lord sort of an equivalent to your own title. Anyway, my uncles only son my cousin had an argument with a bear a few years back, and not many men win those kinds of arguments, since the bears of Ansu are very big and very bad tempered. Anyway, my cousin lost the argument, and since his father, my uncle, only had the one son, his titles going to be vacant after he dies.
And youll succeed him? Congratulations, Master Althalus, Albron said.
Its not quite that cut and dried, my Lord, Althalus said, making a sour face. Ive got another cousin, the son of my fathers younger brother, and he and I were both born in the same summer. We Ansus dont have a very precise calendar, so nobody can really be sure which one of us is the eldest.
Wars tend to break out over things like that.
My uncle, the Arkhein, realized that too, my Lord. Thats when he called my cousin and me to his castle and told us very firmly to stop recruiting armies and forming alliances. Then he told us a story. It seems that many years ago one of our ancestors had owned a very pretty dagger. Thered been one of those little wars that break out in Ansu from time to time, and our ancestor had gotten himself killed. Then, after the sun had gone down, the scoundrels who lurk like vultures around the edges of every battlefield came out to rob the dead.
Oh, yes, Albron said, nodding grimly.
Youve seen the same sort of thing yourself, I gather. Anyway, one of those scoundrels picked up our ancestors dagger. It didnt have any jewels in the hilt or anything, but it was ornamental enough that the rascal thought he could probably sell it for enough to make it worth his while. Our uncle told my cousin and me that he was proposing a sort of contest. Whichever one of us could track down that dagger and bring it back to him would be the one whod get his title. Althalus sighed dramatically. Ive been running hard ever since that day. You would not believe how interesting life can be when youre looking for an antique with one eye and watching for assassins with the other.
Assassins?
My other cousins a bit lazy, my Lord, so the idea of wandering around the world looking for an ancient knife doesnt light any warm fires in his heart. He seems to feel that itd be much easier to have me murdered than itd be to try to win a race with me. Anyway, to get to the point here, I happened across a fellow who told me that hed been in your arms-room once, and he said that he was almost certain that hed seen a knife there that fit the description of the one Id just told him about Althalus cast a covert look at Chief Albron. The story hed just conjured up out of whole cloth seemed to have fired the Clan-Chiefs imagination. Althalus was quite pleased to discover that he hadnt lost his touch.
Chief Albron rose to his feet. Why dont we go have a look, Arkhein Althalus, he suggested.
Im not the Arkhein yet, my Lord, Althalus amended.
You will be if that daggers in my armory. Youre a well-spoken man with a civilized sense of humor, Althalus. Those are noble qualities, and your cousins an absolute knave. Ill do everything in my power to see to it that you inherit your uncles title.
Althalus bowed. You honor me, my Lord, he said.
Wasnt that all just a little thick? Emmys voice suggested.
I know these Arums, Em, so I know exactly what kind of story to tell them. Actually, that was a very good one. It had a threat of civil war, a hero, a villain, and a quest fraught with danger. What more does a good story need?
A little bit of truth might have added something.
I dont like to contaminate a good story with truth, Em. Thatd be a violation of my artistic integrity, wouldnt it?
Oh, dear, she sighed.
Trust me, little kitten. That knifes as good as in my hands already, and I wont even have to buy it. Albrons going to give it to me outright, along with his blessing.
Albrons armory was a stone-walled chamber at the back of his castle, and it was littered with all kinds of swords, axes, pikes, helmets, daggers, and shirts made of chain.
This is my armorer, Rheud. Albron introduced Althalus to a blocky, kilted fellow with a bristling red beard. Describe this dagger youre looking for to him.
Its about a foot and a half long, master armorer, Althalus told the red-bearded man, and its got an odd-shaped blade sort of like a laurel-leaf. Theres a design etched into the blade. From what I understand, the designs actually writing in some ancient language that nobody understands any more.
Rheud scratched his head. Oh, he said then, its that one. Its very pretty, but its a little ornate for my taste. I prefer more business-like weapons.
Its here, then?
Well, it was. Young Eliar came here to arm himself before he went off to that war down in Treborea. He took a fancy to that knife, so I let him take it.
Althalus gave chief Albron a puzzled look. Have you got a quarrel of some kind with somebody in Treborea, my Lord?
No, its a business arrangement. In the old days the lowlanders were always trying to persuade the Clan-Chiefs of Arum to agree to alliances with them alliances where wed do the bleeding and theyd get the profit. There was a conclave of all the Clan-Chiefs of Arum about fifty years ago, and the chiefs all agreed that there werent going to be any more of those alliances with the lowlanders. The way things are now, if the lowlanders need soldiers, they have to rent them.
Rent?
It works out very well for us, Master Althalus. We dont ally ourselves with anybody during those wars, so we dont get swindled out of our share when the wars over. Its all strictly business now. If they want soldiers, they pay for them in advance and we wont accept promissory notes or paper money. They pay in gold, and they pay before any of our men start marching.
How did the lowlanders take that?
From what Ive heard, their screams of outrage were echoing off the moon. The Clan-Chiefs of Arum have held firm, though, so now the lowlanders either pay, or they fight their own wars. Albron scratched his chin reflectively. Were a war-like people here in Arum, and there was a time when almost anything could set off a clan war. Its not that way here any more. There hasnt been a clan war in Arum for forty years.