Fleas - Songs of the Gnolls I

THE GREAT WALL 5.7

It was not easy to find the Lord of Lea Beranta. Not because he hid or refused to leave the fortress of his castle, but quite the opposite. Lorent was called the Restless by his subjects, and it was a well-deserved nickname. They found him in the merchants' street, talking to an elderly apothecary. According to Dannke, he had always been energetic and friendly, so much so that when they shared time during the war, the old knight would pretend to be wounded to excuse himself so that he would stop talking to him.

Fleas looked in all directions but saw no guards. Lorent did not wear the flashy robes that high class humans wore, nor armor, just a cream-colored shirt that looked neat and comfortable despite its simplicity, and brown pants. But when he moved a little to the left, he noticed a sword hanging from his belt. Hearing the footsteps, Lorent turned around. He looked puzzled for a moment, then narrowed his eyes, stroked his neatly trimmed reddish beard, and smiled as he recognized him.

"If it isn't none other than Dannke! Old friend, how good to see you," Lorent shook his hand and waved it vigorously. "And this creature?"

"This is Fleas, my squire. It's a savannah hyaenid."

Lorent analyzed it carefully. Finally, he shook his hand and squeezed it firmly.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, little one. So your name is Fleas? Why is that?"

"When we first met, he told me that's what they called him because fleas was the one thing he had. He was an outcast in his tribe."

"I see," he turned to Fleas. "I have more than ten cats in the palace. I hope you won't share the one you have with them."

"I have no more. The sea drowned them. What I have now is art."

Lorent was amused by the remark.

"You have a great master too. If it weren't for his skill with the sword, I wouldn't be here today," he remembered something and slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. He turned to the pharmacist. "I'm sorry, I was distracted by my guests and forgot to introduce you. Dannke, Fleas, this is Belitta. If you need a potion, concoction or herb, she has the best in all of Lea Beranta."

"It is a pleasure," said the old woman.

"Why don't we go back to the palace? My servants can prepare something to eat for you there. If you don't mind," he said to the old woman.

"No, not at all. Go, go," she replied politely, but without hiding her desire for Lorent to stop talking to her.

The palace loomed over the labyrinthine walls covered with flowering vines. They did not go straight to their destination, for there were no straight streets. The whole city was laid out in an unusual circular shape that made it impossible not to get lost. However, the locals said that no matter which direction you took, you would get exactly where you wanted to go. It must have been true, because in an instant they were at the gates of the ancient temple that served as a palace.

Inside, there was an ancestral, almost magical air. The decorations, paintings, statues, and banners contrasted with the engravings, reliefs, and bas-reliefs left behind by the civilization that had inhabited that place hundreds, if not thousands, of winters ago. Fleas analyzed them, but he knew nothing of these symbols. He did not even know how to read the actual symbols. To make the map, he had asked Dannke for help, for he knew how to turn sounds into drawings.

On the mossy stone throne sat a very old woman. Fleas guessed that she was Lorent's mother, but his theory fell apart when he kissed her on the mouth. Perhaps it was his way of greeting her, though he had only seen such behavior from humans who were copulating. Lorent sat down on the other throne and crossed his legs. He clapped his hands. A young man and woman ran up and bowed.