The Dragonstone

CHAPTER 9

Alos smacked his lips and peered at his mug and then at the ale flagon, both empty. "You tell a powerful tale, Lady Arin. Works me up a great thirst, you know. And there's none left in the pitcher, what with Egil here drinking, too."

Egil smiled and glanced at his mug, his first, and still half full.

Aiko stared impassively at the old man.

Alos peered into the empty pitcher once again and then looked at Arin. "Is the story done? Surely not. And don't you think that Egil here needs some more ale to last him through the rest of the tale? I know I've worked up a great thirst, or did I say that already?"

Arin sighed. "Nay, Alos, my tale is not yet complete; there is more to tell. Much more."

"W'll, if that's the case, then I say we'll need another flagon or two, eh?"

Aiko stalked to the window and stood peering out at the growing day, her fists clenched behind her back.

Arin stepped to Egil's side and felt his brow and took the measure of his pulse. "Art thou able to listen to more? I would not overtire thee."

Egil flashed a smile at her. "I am well enough." Then his face grew somber. "I would hear further of this doom you have foreseen and why it brought you to this place."

Alos took up the pitcher. "But first we get some fresh ale, Lady Arin. Right?"

The Dylvana shook her head. "Nay, Alos. First I shall tell more of the tale and then shall I let thee see to the replenishment of the flagon."

The old man's face fell, and he peered wanly into the empty pitcher.

Egil smiled and held out his half-full mug. "Here, Alos, perhaps this will hold you a moment more."

With alacrity, Alos stepped to Egil's bedside and took the offering, grinning his brown-stained smile. He bore the precious cargo to the table and eased down in his chair.

Aiko remained standing and staring out the window as Arin returned to her seat by the fire and took up the thread of her tale once again:

"We had just come unto the marches of Darda Galion…"