SONG OF POWER

Chapter XIV: Knowledge

SONG OF POWER

CHAPTER XIV:  KNOWLEDGE

Nightfall found the party of Cipher, Ninthalsaya (and Guts), Rowena, Tyroce, and Donk making camp at Ancient’s Rock.  Ancient’s Rock was a massive rock formation that resembled a waterfall of stone protruding from the west wall of Harrow Pass.  The formation was easily twice as tall as Donk and glistened with traces of precious gems and ornamental stones; the giants of Jagd held it as a holy site.  The soil at the base of Ancient’s Rock was churned and furrowed where years of sacrifices were buried by the  inhabitants of Jagd seeking favor from the divine.  Wildflowers grew in this soil, forming a pool of color at the base of Ancient’s Rock.

“Ancestors, feasting in the great halls with the Gods, I am forever your humble servant on Gaea,” Donk intoned when they approached the stone formation, repeating the simple prayer that was customary for his people.  The others could only admire the out-of-place beauty of the site, a marvel that contrasted greatly with the barren landscape in which it found itself.

Donk turned out to be a jack-of-all-trades and a dabbler in magic; he was able to get a comfortable campfire going quite quickly by applying both skills in appropriate measure, and soon the group found themselves seated comfortably and salivating from the scent of roasting venison.  Manning the spit, Donk regaled the group with a tale of his heroism, simultaneously ensuring the buck he’d hunted down cooked evenly.

“…then the powerful wizard cast a most mighty spell, and angels descended from on high to defend the city’s walls!” Donk recited.  “And what’s more, he didn’t even know what in blazes the spell would do.  He was just told it would help ‘light his darkest hour.’  Imagine his surprise when he summoned a battalion of the divine!” Donk roared with laughter at his joke while carving off a strip of meat to test it.  “Yup, that’s it then.  Eat up, me hearties.  After a sleep, we’ll be at Goblin Hill before luncheon, and y’all can eat som’thin’ better than this rot!” though he made a show of detesting his cooking, Donk was an old hand at the cookfire.  The others ate their fill, though their appetites combined could not match that of the ogre.

“Cipher, I have a question if I may,” began the ogre lazily as the meal neared its satisfied conclusion.  Cipher only nodded as he devoured the last of his meat.  “How is that you come to be wed to not one, nor two, but three dazzling ladies?”  Rowena flushed with pleasure, while Ninthalsaya’s eyes rolled in vexation.  Tyroce simply smiled as she sipped an ice-goblet of wine, a popular work of her magecraft.

“It…it is a strange story, to say the least.  In the village I come from, it is tradition at Midsummer’s Festival for the young men who have come of age to court the eligible women…” and Cipher told how he, Samuel, Pantifer, Wisp, and Trevor had gone about choosing their would-be brides, and how he, at last, had been chosen by not one but all three of the women he had given tokens to.  Donk listened attentively, and Ninthalsaya got the feeling that the ogre was memorizing every detail, right down to the vehemence she had served her succotash with.

“So, then, ye three married,” Donk surmised, looking from Tyroce to Ninthalsaya to Rowena.  “I’m always a day late and a coin short!” the charming ogre jested with a wink of his large eye cast at Rowena.

“Oh, you! According to Cyen’s customs, y-y-yes,” Rowena happily replied.  It was a topic she had been thinking about during their journey, one she found strangely unsettling.  Ninthalsya harrumphed loudly.  Tyroce clucked her tongue at the half-elf.

“The ceremony in Cyen bound us three to Cipher, creating this Union, this Covey.  The ceremony also binds me to my Covey-mates,” Tyroce explained, refilling her goblet with a wave of her enchanted hand.  Ninthalsaya’s eyes flashed daggers at Tyroce, but if the Unseelie woman noticed she did not let on.