Soul Fire

Soul Fire - Chapter 14

A roaring bonfire did much to liven spirits dampened by rain and snow. Fires were rare luxuries in Cerdic lands, with wood being scarce. The Cerds needed lumber to build their squat houses that gave shelter from raging blizzards, but more importantly, to fuel the furnaces that formed and shaped the metal of their axes and hammers.

The unreasonable effort required to cart logs from lower lands meant the Cerds sourced the entirety of their needs from sparse stands of pine and spruce. What little trade the Cerds did engage in, involved exchanging the precious, rare metal found exclusively in their domain; for coal, peat, and fresh foods not forthcoming from their icy realm.

The evening bonfire both welcomed guests and provided necessary warmth for a now conscious Malithas. Jerodai had been like a ghost, numb to everything around him. Now, life and laughter returned at the first sounds of his father's voice.

They all wanted to entertain Malithas by recounting the fight, Salidon particularly keen to discuss developments regarding Dathion. Instead, they allowed Malithas time to recuperate from his trauma. Glazed pots of a thick broth were handed around along with generous hunks of hard bread. Dathion found the bread grainy and heavy, hard to chew and difficult to swallow. Soaking it in the soup made it softer and probably saved a few of Dathion's teeth. Trudging through snow, and in opposition to the incessant wind, had drained substantial strength from the boys and men. The labors of their battle had consumed what little had been left. Food offered the solution, with bread and broth hungrily devoured.

Though what they craved most, was meat.

The way the Cerds cooked and warmed their food fascinated the boys. Large, flattened stones - almost black in color but for blue veins tracing lines across the surface - took the place of Asillian ovens. These stones they placed on the hottest coals, after the fire had already channeled its heat into towering flames.

Unique to the region, the rock encased a sky-blue metal, a secret of the Cerds - even the Dwarves coveted it. Cerdic tales suggested it fell from the sky millennia ago, a rich bounty for the Cerds from an otherwise frugal landscape. It represented the most prized of all their treasures, said to forge the hardest of their axes and hammers. It stole the chill of ice when touched by frost, or the heat of flame when torched by fire. The elements became a slave to the metal that trapped their power. In this way, the rocks remained hot well after their fires had died to ash.  

Gergan said that he would cook for the boys and men that evening, to reward their prowess and bravery. It was a chance to see the mysterious stones in action. Impatience and intrigue gripped the boys. They crowded around Gergan, the mighty warrior having been identified by title as the Champion of the Cerdic people. In spite of his importance, he still volunteered to prepare the meat for their meal. He draped long slices and thick hunks against the surface of the stone, leaving them to pop and sizzle. After some time, he used a pair of long, charred sticks to turn the raw sides down, creating a buzz of angry hornets that were soon seared into seductive smoke. Dathion leaned in, his nose taking him to a place too hot for a face. The radiant heat made his eyes water, while his skin felt like it would soon become part of their food. Gergan looked down at the prince and cocked a single eyebrow.

"Can you smell what the rock's cooking?"

Dathion nodded, making a valiant effort not to drool. Licking his lips, he watched as the meat seared brown, its hot juice dripping, with a crispy, black crust forming. Jerodai tugged Dathion back to a more respectful distance. In the vacated space, Gergan's wolves paced, nuzzling the Cerd's legs and whimpering. Gergan flicked them some off-cuts for their troubles.

Not a bad strategy, Dathion thought.

Deciding that watching was doing more harm than good, he poked Jerodai and Ellishan in the ribs before retreating with the boys to the company of the others. Away from the cooking, he prayed for time to pass faster. Dathion suspected the entire assembly of Cerds and Asillians would somehow know when Gergan finished cooking. Dathion's assumption proved correct, with all conversation ceasing and eyes turning to Gergan at the exact moment he began to carve palm-sized portions onto a wooden platter. The brothers and Jerodai rewarded Gergan with beaming smiles when meat was dropped onto their plates before any other.