Chương 10

On the Road from Lecten Abbey to Erem Mallorn the elf Huldramilk, as it turned out, was very much like a thick, rich, sweet vanilla sort of drink. It was just thin enough for his mind to register as 'milk' instead of 'iced cream', but only just, and carried a sweetness that was downright unusual for just milk, as if a spoonful of sugar was added to the blend. Needless to say, once the strangeness had passed, Mallorn could easily see why people drank it. It was exceptionally tasty.

More marvelous, however, was that they gave him a whole wheel of huldra cheese after he attended their mass ceremonies. Being nice to people means getting free things from them, apparently, and Mallorn decided that he would have to come back to buy their products in the future. Getting an entire block of cheese as a free sample was incredible advertising. They had earned a customer for life, which Mallorn supposed was the point of being so generous to him.

Elves lived a very long time, and had quite a lot of money to spend, so earning one as a customer was simply good business. The cheese was similarly sweet and vaguely vanilla in flavor, and melted exceptionally well. It would be just about perfect for making cheesecake, if Mallorn knew how to do that, and its natural sweetness lent itself well towards habitual snacking.

"You really love that stuff, huh?" Rayne chuckled at him as they walked along the road, ever onwards towards Erem and leaving the abbey behind them.

"I'm quite the large lad, you know?" Mallorn responded, another bite of huldracheese pushed aside to let him get the words out. He chewed slightly more, then swallowed with flickering ears.

"I need a lot of food to maintain this frame of mine, I'd hate to let it waste away from too little eating."

"You do eat a lot for an elf," Lucia mused, reaching up to scratch her chin and inspect him.

"Half a hog on your own, then whole portions and seconds and thirds at the abbey, then this snacking."

"It goes straight to my thews." He took another bite, chewing with a slight smile and an idle gaze. Chew, chew, chew, swallow. It was almost like candy, except they already gave him a pouchful of hard caramels to snack on too and he was saving them for later.

"I get all my exercising done before any of you wake up, but none of my equipment is heavy enough to work up a sweat anymore. It's why I'm on the hunt for proper steel."

"... You're in Ironwood," Lucia pointed out dryly.

"That's better than steel."

"No," Mallorn countered with a waggled finger.

"It's lighter than steel, and stronger on a per-pound basis, but proper steel still outcompetes it in a direct size comparison."

"Don't you want to have lighter armor?" Rayne pointed out with a raised brow. The stallion he was leading performed a rolling snort.

"Sure." Mallorn nodded.

"But at a certain point, making ironwood any thicker just gets in the way of moving your limbs, and you're limited in how much you can carry anyways. If I were a rich elf, I'd buy a set of mithril plate." He shook his head.

"As it stands, I'd rather just trade out this ironwood for some steel and chain, and have enough weight to properly exercise and wrestle in it."

"As you say, I suppose." Rayne shrugged.

"I'm too common to afford anything better than gambeson, but it serves me well enough."

"Is that why you're aiding Lady Dwarf here?" Lucia asked dryly.

"Hoping for some trollsteel as a reward for helping her?" Trollsteel? Why woul- Actually he could just ask that.

"Trollsteel? Why would dwarves have trollsteel?" He asked with furrowed brows. She blinked, before a warm amusement came over her face.

"Heh, you don't know, do you?"

"No, I don't," Mallorn agreed, taking another bite of cheese.

"Tis why I asked."

"When men first met dwarves, they didn't know that all the different workers and soldiers were part of the same race. So they called the little ones dwarves, the bigger ones trolls, and the biggest ones giants," Rayne explained with a huff.

"Course, later it turned out that dwarves were just the youngest and they kept getting bigger as they got older, but the names were set by then."

"That's not what happened," Lucia refuted with a shake of her head.

"The story goes that the first dwarf to set out from his holes was an adult named Torod, and he was soon followed by his son Dauth, and then by his father Gilthat. Torod became Trod, then Troll. Dauth became Dwauth, then Dwarf. Gilthat became Gilat, then Giant. From the three men derived the names for each, who they mistook as different peoples in their travels."

"That sounds ~~~~~~~~~, dark elf." Rayne rolled his eyes.

"Here, we've a dwarf right here. Lady Dwarf, where did trolls and giants get their names?" Dura was lost in thought, staring at the cobbles as they walked along the road. Mallorn reached forwards and gently tapped her on the head, making her shake and ruffle briefly, before turning up to squint at him.

"Wha-""What's got you thinking, Lady Dwarf?" Mallorn asked with a little smile. She made a little huffing noise, before looking back towards the cobbles they trod upon.

"I spoke to some of my kinsfolk before we left, there's some sort of conflict all broken out at Erem at the moment and I've been puzzling over it."

"A conflict?" Lucia asked with ears perking up in alert.

"I suppose there was a dispute over copper purity again," Rayne mocked light-heartedly.

"That's the thing, they didn't seem to know either," Dura explained in a grumbling sort of manner.

"The Steeldikes and the Greymills have broken out into arguments and open brawls over something or another. One or both of them hired up goblins to start sieges and blockades of each other's halls, and it's starting to catch up others in the violence last they said."

"Is there a Dwarven king or something to put a stop to this?" Mallorn asked, blinking.

"The Elders are sitting this business out, thank the Father." Dura shook her head.

"It'll be far worse if they were brawling too, but I don't know what would've provoked something like this. If it were the Gravelbrooks and the Greymills scuffling, thinking I ran away to escape the marriage or some such, I'd understand it, but I've not a clue why the Steeldikes would be conflicting with the Greymills."

"Do they have rival businesses, perhaps?" Lucia asked with a tilt of her head.

"I'm not too familiar with the business of dwarves, I confess."

"They shouldn't." Dura tilted her head.

"The Greymills have the business of grain and grinding flour and baking, and the Steeldikes are famed for their pipework and canalcraft. That's why I was set to be engaged to Greymill Dawain, the Gravelbrooks make our business with riverflows and dams and just a bit of canalwork, and our marriage was to confirm a new contract for waterflow towards their grainfields."

"But if the scuffle was about the water rights, then it would be Gravelbrook and Steeldike, not Steeldike and Greymill," Mallorn completed the thought for her, reaching up to scratch his neck in consideration.

"Canals and mills… watermill disputes, perhaps?"

"I don't think something like a watermill would lead to anyone hiring goblin bands, or all things," Rayne mused, scratching at his own chest as he pondered the issue.

"If you've gotten to that point, you're showing a willingness to shed blood and more importantly, coin, over being 'right'."

"Hiring a goblin band… Like the group that kidnapped you, Dura?" Mallorn leaned down slightly to ask the question. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

"Aye, like that bunch." Dura pressed her lips together and nodded.

"If one was hired up to snatch away with me, and now more are being hired up to fight over this, then they're connected I'm sure of it. I just don't know where or how."

"Perhaps a fourth party hired goblins to kidnap you, blame it on the Steeldikes to provoke the Greymills, and are now funding both sides of the conflict to discredit both and extract concessions from the framed parties once a governing party steps in to stop them," Mallorn mused aloud, recalling the stories of political shenanigans and maneuvering he had heard about in a past life. There were a few moments of quiet at that.

"Is that the mind of an elf at work? That's courtly planning on a fearsome scale." Rayne was looking at him with a frown and furrowed brows.

"That almost sounds like a plan my mother would cook up," Lucia mused.

"Not enough time in bedchambers, though."

"I-I don't think it's something like that, Mallorn." Dura was likewise looking at him with a concerned expression.

"I certainly hope not, at least."

"I-it's the first thing that came to mind!" Mallorn defended himself.

"I am simply connecting the threads of knowledge here! That is all!"

"You made a web when a string would suffice." Rayne gave an amused half-grin at him.

"They're dwarves, they're probably fighting over losing an auction to the other over a quality batch of rocks." Dura huffed, but didn't deny it. Mallorn rolled his eyes and waved it off, taking another delightful bite of huldracheese and focusing on the road once more. —"So, did you enjoy hearing men preach at you about your inherent evils for an hour?" Lucia asked with a little grin, lounging as the rest of them went about preparing the night's fire and little feast.

Tonight's course was two dozen wild birds, shot down by his arrows and being rapidly hollowed out, plucked, and prepared for stick-roasting over the open fire.

"Hm? Oh, quite a bit, I think," Mallorn answered back, knife full of mana and quickly working to carve away organs and set them aside on bark-plates for the wild beasts to devour later. Bird was a bit trickier and more time-consuming to prepare, but the work was simple enough after some practice. It was much easier that they weren't bothering to de-bone any of these, otherwise it would be atrocious.

The largest bird, a wild turkey that looked halfway to a dinosaur, was already cleaned and slow-roasting under Dura's careful eye, turns of the skewer, and attentions to the fire.

"Their sermons were on the Mannish king Agar the Black, ruler of Essa, and his conversion from the worship of devils to the service of the…" He took a moment to remember the name.

"All-mother, given conversion-libations by the Chosen Heroine of that era, Saimarien. The lesson of the story was that even the most ardent enemies of the High Goddess can become her most devoted servants if allowed to. Then they recounted how the region was eventually conquered by the Empire and incorporated as a province." He nodded his head back and forth, deftly hollowing out another bird and splashing the insides with water before handing it over to Rayne to pluck.

"It was interesting. I considered buying one of their holy books to read through on my travels, but it was too expensive."

"Mhn! Dwarven sermons are similar, but not as many books," Dura added with a happy nod.

"The storykeepers spend a great deal of time memorizing the old stories from the elders, and carve them down as youths on great tablets. Then, when they are done, they're too big to carve the little words anymore, so they take on apprentices to finish the last few tablets as part of their own training. Every few decades a great moot is held between storykeepers, and the elders tell the stories of their clans in great, booming rumbles for all to hear."

"Men are much too small to have booming rumbles most of the time. Not like your giant elders and whatnot." Rayne huffed with laughter, handing over a now-cleaned bird to Dura, who staked it and mounted it near the fire to gently and occasionally roll.

"You try your best though, and that's what really matters in the end." Dura gave an encouraging smile and little bounce. She then turned back to him and questioned.

"Elf learning is different though, you said, right Mallorn?" Mallorn nodded.

"At no point does the historian give implication that there's a lesson to be had, in my experience. They simply relay the history as they know it, in as great detail as they have available, and it is understood that when you are old enough to arrive at the 'correct' answer on your own, then you are wise enough to understand it."

"Records are kept in scrolls, traditionally, long silk sheets covered in every inch by both words and art. Each scene flows from one to the other while the words convey the context needed to understand them. When a split in record-keeping begins, the scroll cites a sub-scroll that is to be hung next to the first in a branching manner, until the whole of elven history unfurls like an immense and often overlapping tree." Mallorn tilted his head.

"To my understanding, the most complete records are held in the capital of Elvenlands, a series of scrolls that cover miles in total distance and width, hanging within the Cathedral of the World Tree itself. It is distinctly irksome and time-consuming to navigate records set up in such a manner, so at least my own home simply kept the scrolls in cases and stacked up when not needed to be referenced."

Final bird hollowed out, he splashed the interior with water to rinse it out, handed it off to Rayne, and then washed his hands off. That done, he stood up, taking the tray of bird-guts with him. Tray in hand, he strode over to the side of the road and the bush with the creature that thought it was being sneaky, and set the bark-tray down and stepped away. Much to his surprise, it was not a dog that poked out of the bush to eat at the guts, but rather a little predatory running lizard.

The head and back were somewhat feathered, and its little mouth was full of sharpened teeth. Unlike the turkey-thing, this wasn't 'halfway' to being a dinosaur, this was just a dinosaur. He stared at it somewhat transfixed as it hissed and growled at him and rapidly munched at the tray of bird organs.

"What are you staring at?" Dura asked from the fire. Mallorn's ears twitched.

"A little lizard-beast."

"He's looking at a drachen, one of the little pack-hunters." Lucia looked over, attentive to his movements.

"Do they not have such in Elvenlands, little elf?"

"Not in my old home, at least. Large lizards and such," he replied, resting on his haunches and simply watching it chomp away at the organs.

"Are they common?" He was doing his best to restrain his excitement at the thought. He reached a gentle hand out and held it still, fingers raised and still smelling of bird-guts.

"Most common around Dwarven lands. They bring a bunch of big lizards with them whenever they start carving into a new mountain." Rayne shook his head.

"They come from Giant Country, right, dwarf?" The little raptor rapidly finished the array of organs on the tray, before turning its head inquisitively at him.

"Hmn-hm! There's nothing else big enough to feed a hungry giant than a Hadrun, nothing else you can herd, at least," Dura nodded happily, pulling off one well-roasted bird from the fire and holding it up for inspection.

"That and they lay dozens of eggs, and the eggs are huge! You can cook a whole Dwarven breakfast with just one sizzling on the skillet." Mallorn stayed completely still, letting the raptor have all the time it needed to consider him. He kept his ears folded down, as to not provoke some kind of aggressive response.

"And when they brought their lizards up from Giant Country, a bunch of the smaller lizards hitched a ride on their ships." Rayne huffed.

"Now you can't find a damn place that doesn't have a few of the little bastards running around." The raptor tilted its head back the other way, then made a little jump over the bark-tray and towards him.

"They're tasty though, so it's all fair, grandfather always said." Dura nodded.

"Mallorn! Come over here, one of the little birds is done so start eating!" The raptor leant forwards sniffing at his fingers, before taking a step back and glaring up at him, then leaning forwards and sniffing his fingers again.

"Wait, what about me?" Rayne asked, reaching for one of the skewers. He stayed still, hand outstretched.

"Mallorn shot them, so he gets the first bites!" Dura argued back, swatting at his hand. The raptor lent forwards again, sniffing at his fingers, before making an experimental nip. It wasn't even enough to hurt, how gentle and cautious the little bite was.

"He's going to eat half of them anyways, what's the harm?" Lucia similarly reached forwards, making the dwarf stand up and start swatting more aggressively at their greedy hands. He smiled, the raptor making another nip before realizing that his fingers weren't food. He scratched it on the side of the head for a few moments, before it backed away and jumped back into the bush.

"Mallorn, hurry! I can't hold them off for long!" Dura wailed at him.

"Claim the first bite, before it is lost!" He couldn't keep the smile from his face as he stood up and brushed himself off, walking back over to the fire and taking the skewer of meat from Dura.

"My thanks for thy valiant defense, Lady Dwarf." She gave a happy, bouncing salute at that, and missed Rayne and Lucia snatching skewers of roasted bird for themselves in the process. Mallorn chuckled, twisting off one leg and chomping down. Just a bit of pepper and salt applied during the early stages of the cook. It tasted like gamey chicken. It would go excellently with the huldracheese, but he was saving the next bite of that for the turkey-lizard. It wasn't finished cooking yet.