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Fantasy Fiction
Chronicles of War I: The Warfarer's Exodus
Before the Wall
Chapter 1 Page 9
Chronicles of War I: The Warfarer's Exodus
Before the Wall
Chapter 1 Page 9
"No need, citizen," returned the Warfarer gruffly, "You were in need of a head cover, and I had one to spare. I could never wear it where I am bound."
Deldric's warm face dropped away instantly, and was replaced by a mask of shame. His trembling left was raised to slowly pull his new hat down over his eyes, across his face, and into his lap.
"Pardon, sire. I had not realized the impetus of your gift. I had forgotten that you are so soon bound into the Wilderlands, never to return. I could not wear it now. Not now or ever again. Beg pardon, sire."
Epsilon made a derisive noise with his mouth and a dismissive gesture with his shoulders. "Now you seem the fool, Soldwin's son. Your head grows cold, but you will not cover it. Will you die in the snows this winter for want of something in your possession? No, you do not honor me in this manner. Wear the hat. Remember me every morning when you remove it from its peg, and every night when you once more hang it there to rest. This will serve me."
The forester shook his head demurely. "I could not, sir. It is too great an honor, too rich a prize. I have not earned it."
Deldric's warm face dropped away instantly, and was replaced by a mask of shame. His trembling left was raised to slowly pull his new hat down over his eyes, across his face, and into his lap.
"Pardon, sire. I had not realized the impetus of your gift. I had forgotten that you are so soon bound into the Wilderlands, never to return. I could not wear it now. Not now or ever again. Beg pardon, sire."
Epsilon made a derisive noise with his mouth and a dismissive gesture with his shoulders. "Now you seem the fool, Soldwin's son. Your head grows cold, but you will not cover it. Will you die in the snows this winter for want of something in your possession? No, you do not honor me in this manner. Wear the hat. Remember me every morning when you remove it from its peg, and every night when you once more hang it there to rest. This will serve me."
The forester shook his head demurely. "I could not, sir. It is too great an honor, too rich a prize. I have not earned it."
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