The Dwarven Sorcerer

The Dwarven Sorcerer Ch 24

Thrack had walked through the night without resting, he wanted to get as much distance between himself and his dad as possible, fearing he might try to follow him. It was nearly midday when Thrack finally stopped to rest for the first time; the sun's heat had penetrated deeply into his armour. He was sweaty and tired and his body ached mercilessly. He was relying on his dwarven endurance to keep him going but even that had its limit. He sat on a rock on the side of the road, breathing heavily. He ate some salted pork and dried pumpkin and drank some of his water. He didn't want to dig too far into his provisions but he was famished.

He unfolded a map, laying it flat on the road. He leaned over to study it, chewing on a piece of salted pork. There was a large town further down this road, bigger than Zwergberg, it looked like it was practically a small city. By the looks of it, he could be there in a couple of days on foot. Once he reached the city it looked like the mage's college was pretty much straight east from there.

Good, the sooner I get there the sooner I can end this bloody curse.

Something moved near the road not far from Thrack. He jumped, reaching for his hammer he felt the magic raise to the surface ready to defend himself. It moved again. Tall ferns were pushed aside. Thrack ground his teeth let out a low growl as he readied for an attack. A small fox darted across the road.

"Bah," said Thrack, then laughed at his own skittishness.

'You're getting a wee bit paranoid," he chided himself.

He relaxed a bit feeling the magic cool, then realized there was something riding on the fox's back; it looked like a tiny person. Strange. He waited for a while, hoping the fox would come out again, it didn't. He must have imagined it.

He heard a low rumble in the distance. To the south, the sky darkened. The thought of a thunderstorm filled him with a sense of excitement. Donner was the thunder bringer, this was a blessing. Thrack felt rejuvenated.

"No time to waste," he said out loud. He packed his food and continued down the road.

. . .

A fox with a tiny rider came out of hiding and stopped at the rock where Thrack had rested. The rider dismounted and walked around the rock, his tiny hand outstretched, tracing the lines of the rock, it was cold. He picked up a piece of dried pumpkin that the dwarf had dropped and ate it. It was sweet. Sweet was good. He climbed back on top of his mount and continued after the dwarf.

. . .

The first few drops of rain fell soon after Thrack had made camp for the night. It started slowly at first, the scattered drops darkening the light-coloured dirt into thick mud. Soon the rain picked up in intensity and soaked through his bedding and clothing. His beard clung to his chest and neck. He struggled to sleep but the cold rain was too much. He really wished he had brought a tent or something to protect him from the elements. He laid in a small ball on the soaked earth to keep away the worse of the cold.

In the morning, the rain continued to fall with greater earnest. Thrack was cold, wet, sore, and miserable as he donned his armour. He continued down the road to the nearest city. Thrack was thoroughly soaked. His skin was clammy and itched terribly. Lightning flashed overhead and thunder cracked loudly, blessings from the god of thunder. Thrack was feeling very blessed by now.

All he wanted was to strip out of these clothes and warm himself by a fire. Hel, a hot mug of spiced mead would go down really good right about now.

The fox and his rider continued to follow him through the day, Thrack managed to get a few fleeting glances of his stalker but too cold and tired to care about such a small and seemingly harmless creature. The fox rider moved closer to Thrack, moving until he was nearly right beside the dwarf. Thrack looked over at the tiny figure beside him. He briefly wondered what the small man was and what he wanted but shrugged it off. At least he managed to get a closer look at him.