Episode 20 -- Yamyn

Gundar drew in a deep breath and allowed himself to relax. It seemed that his fears had been unfounded. Doremus was walking back towards him steadily, apparently at peace with the world. No jerky gait, no nervous twitches, no restless eyes darting about. If the old man was hatching any devious schemes, he was hiding his thoughts with admirable composure.

What now? Gundar asked himself. Split up, or stay together?

If he kept Doremus here, he would be a liability, requiring constant attention; but if he was allowed to return to his hut, someone would have to go along with him. Why had he not thought this through sooner? Gundar's plan had not extended beyond the delivery of the drugged mead. He had not seriously expected to get this far without some complication to snatch the burden of decision from his shoulders. If truth be told, he was disappointed by the smoothness of the operation. His imagination had envisioned a pitched battle against hopeless odds, not this underhanded method of disabling a quartet of ragged desperados.

"Once Doremus passes us," Gundar said to Eric in an undertone, "you can follow him and escort him back to his hut."

"Why should I be the one?" Eric asked. "I mean to stay here and enjoy the adventure."

With some difficulty, Gundar held his tongue. Eric was neither his servant nor his vassal, so he could do as he pleased. Gundar turned his ingenuity to marshalling arguments in support of his plan. How could he persuade his companion that trailing after Doremus would be more entertaining than being on the scene for the rescue?

"You can tie him up and return forthwith," Gundar muttered. "It may be hours before the potion takes effect."

"I think not," Eric argued. "Most likely, they are guzzling the mead this very moment."

"Doremus!" A voice shouted from the mouth of the cave.

The old man stopped and turned around. A fresh-faced youth dashed up to him, carrying a large hunk of something wrapped in a cloth. "Doremus -- you forgot your meat!"

"Thank you, Yamyn," Doremus replied. "Just drop it in my basket."

"No, no," the young one said. "I will carry it for you. You seem more weary than usual."

"No need," Doremus assured him with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

"Ah -- but I wish it," Yamyn said. "I would sorely miss our usual conversation. Why didn't you seek me out in the cave?"

"As you said -- I am more weary than usual."

The two men continued down the slope side my side, talking steadily. While Gundar was assessing the situation, Scaramouche stepped momentarily out of the underbrush, waved, pointed in the direction of the walkers, and disappeared again.

"Scaramouche and I will take care of those two," Gundar said to Eric, "while you keep watch here."

Eric grinned and settled himself in a more comfortable position. "No hurry. It may be hours before the potion takes effect."

Gundar got up and made his way towards the path. He decided on the most direct approach -- following his quarry until he caught up. The bow would be a useful prop, giving the impression that he had been hunting.

He quickened his pace. It would never do to allow the pair of them too much privacy.

Doremus, to whom the territory was as familiar as his own two hands, moved with the speed of a mountain goat, causing young Yamyn to cry mercy more than once when he fell behind. Gundar was breathing heavily by the time he managed to overtake them.

"Ah! Gundar!" Doremus said without the slightest appearance of concern. "There you are! How goes the hunt?"

"As you see, I am empty-handed," Gundar answered with a rueful air. "This bow pulls to the left, and I have not yet learned the trick of compensating."

"Do not trouble yourself," Doremus said. "As you can see, my young friend Yamyn has provided for us. We will eat well tonight."

"Yamyn?" Gundar asked. "I believe I have not heard you tell of him."

"I made his acquaintance only recently," Doremus said. "He is a pleasant companion and a fierce chess player."

Yamyn grinned. "I could say the same of you."

Gundar racked his brains, trying to remember if he had ever heard of chess. It was not a game played in the Northlands. Considering the relative age and condition of the two opponents, he guessed that the game was sedentary. He made a mental note to ask Eric about it in private.

"I am Gundar Baldursson of the Northlands . . ." he began.

" . . . a maternal cousin twice removed," Doremus finished smoothly. "His visits are rare and much appreciated."

Gundar inclined his head politely in Yamyn's direction. "The three of us shall sup together, then? I would be honoured to make the acquaintance of a friend of yours."

"If Yamyn can spare the time," Doremus said.

"The walk back is treacherous by moonlight," Yamyn said.

"You could spend the night," Doremus offered.

"Alas, no," Yamyn said. "I must take the second watch."

"Then we will have a drink together before we send you on your way," Doremus said. "I would like you to get to know Gundar. He is already a well-known warrior in his own country."

"And where is that, if I may ask?" Yamyn said. "I have never heard quite the same music in anyone's speech -- like a pig grunting."

Gundar fondled his dagger, wondering if he should take offence. However, he detected no malice whatsoever in the youngling's manner, and decided that no slight was intended.

"I live on the other side of the Endless Sea," Gundar said, using the local term for what he knew as the Mystic Sea.

Yamyn's eyes widened. "Beyond the Islands?" he asked. "I was led to believe there was nothing there save the end of the world."

"It seems that the earth is larger than you imagined," Gundar said with a touch of superciliousness, momentarily forgetting that his own quest had ended in disaster.

"Why, this is wonderful!" Yamyn exclaimed. "I have a whole lifetime of exploring before me."

If you are not hanged first, Gundar thought darkly. He was at a loss to understand how such a lad as this would align himself with Gallagher's gang.