‘ Your daughters … spirits take me, I see the resemblance – the eyes, the gestures with the hands – but Hetan—’
‘Delicious Hetan, memories return in a stew of desire and alarm – no matter. Grievous the fate of their mother. Perilous the fate of her children – and we must do something about that. Why are you not eating? Drinking? Baruk’s finest fare.’
Torrent pointed. ‘They … vanished.’
‘Oh my. The dread curse of unmindfulness. Perhaps next time, my barbarian friend. But time, it grows short, but Kruppe is shorter still.’ He fluttered a hand. ‘Tell me, what do you now see there?’
Torrent squinted. ‘A bow. Quiver. Arrows.’
‘Rhivi. To this day they yearly ply me with useless gifts, for reasons that, while obscure, are no doubt well deserved. In any case, I give them all away as a measure of my extraordinary generosity. Are these not finer weapons than the ones you now possess?’
‘My bow split. I had nothing with which to repair it. The arrow shafts have dried and warped – I’d intended to harden them one last time but forgot. The fletching—’
‘Before you go on, good sir, by your list Kruppe can conclude that yes, indeed, this Rhivi offering is superior to that which you now possess.’
‘I just said that.’
‘Did you? Excellent. Take them and be off with you. Quickly. Let it never be said that Kruppe is a neglectful father, no matter what that baron’s daughter later claimed in court. And if Kruppe had not dramatically revealed that she was now sleeping with her advocate, why, Kruppe would be a much thinner man than the one you now see fading before you, red waistcoat and all …’
‘Wait! I’m lost! She said—’
‘Behind you, O wily scout.’
New weapons in hand, Torrent slowly turned, to see, twenty paces away, the dying fire, the children knotted up beneath the fur, and Olar Ethil slumped on the far side. He swung back to thank the man, but he was gone, and with him his modest hearth. He lifted the weapons for a closer look. These are from no dream. These are real, and finely made . He set the string and tested the draw. Spirits! These Rhivi must be giants!
Olar Ethil barely stirred when he returned to the fire. ‘Changed your mind, did you?’
Torrent set the bow and quiver down beside him. ‘Yes,’ he said.
‘Just as well, pup. Warrens are dangerous places for fools such as you. If you would honour the vow you made, you would do well to stay close to me.’
Torrent tossed the last chip of dung into the fire, watched sparks lift into the night. ‘I shall, Bonecaster.’
Her head settled once more. He stared across at her. When sleep offers its final sigh, old hag, I’ll be there to wake you .