Morgan's Tale Part 16
"Don't worry," Zanadar said, noticing the ranger's look, "You'll get to go back soon enough."
Morgan managed to force a weak smile and nod. He knew the big man was only trying to comfort him, and that it would in fact be quite a long time before he had the opportunity to go home again.
They rejoined the road a short distance south of Tursh. It would lead them directly to the home of the Halflings. While Morgan was growing up, Halflings frequently stopping in Tursh on their way to New Targonor with wagonfulls of goods. He had been taken to their village on occasion, but was young and could recall very little. Morgan was somewhat curious to see it for himself now that he was older. The more he thought about it, the sillier it seemed that he'd lived so close for so long yet had never gone and it was only now, that he spent most of his time much farther away that he had occasion to go there.
By the time the first of the small earthen roofs of Rindol Field became visible it was already mid-afternoon. They had traveled quickly and made very good time. Though with the exception of Gray, who looked to be perfectly fine, the horses were beginning to show fatigue.
"You know, I haven't been here since I was a small child." Renna pointed out as they neared the village.
"And now you get to see it as a fully grown child," Elandar cracked. Renna rolled her eyes and ignored the old man.
"It's a nice enough place," Zanadar replied, "Their ale is a little too sweet for my tastes though. What they need is a nice, dark, thick groggy mead."
"I happen to like sweet ale," the stable hand said winsomely.
"How much could you possibly know about beer?" Elandar quipped, his wrinkled face distorted into a frown.
"Enough." Renna answered guardedly.
"Really?" the old man pressed, unconvinced. She looked to Morgan for help. He raised his hands defensively.
"Don't bring me in to this," the ranger said, "I'm a little curious as to where this knowledge comes from myself." A mischievous grin crept over Renna's face. She started to say something, but Morgan cut her short. "You know," he added quickly, "On second thought I'd really rather not know at all."
"Probably a wise decision," Zanadar laughed. The stable hand narrowed her eyes and glared sternly at Morgan as they rode into the village.
Rindol Field, home of the Halflings, was an amicable little community. It was a stable, peaceful place that revolved around a strong sense of kinship and camaraderie. Vibrant green hills surrounded the village, creating a pleasant feeling of seclusion. Most of the Halflings were farmers by trade, and the quiet existence suited them well.
A single, worn road split Rindol Field. It worked its way in from the hills to the north and continued all the way to the very end of the village. On either side of it, small cottages and buildings were placed comfortably apart from one another. They were stout structures, with low earthen roofs and wide doors. Several young Halfling children raced back and forth across the road, darting between a handful of produce carts. They paused briefly to give an appraising look at the group, paying particular attention to Zanadar.
The big man flashed a friendly smile at the children from atop his horse. One of them yelped out loudly and they quickly scattered.
"Well done." Elandar said sardonically.
Zanadar frowned. "Children usually like me," the big man moped lamely. "It must have been your fault."
Before the old man had the chance to protest, Morgan spoke up. "I guess we're looking for the Mayor then." He gazed down the road. Compared to the buzzing streets of New Targonor the village felt almost deserted. What residents were out on the main road cheerfully went about their business, loading produce into carts or rolling large barrels down the street, seemingly oblivious to the newcomers. Off the road a bit, several older looking Halfling women stood together in a large garden. They laughed buoyantly with one another as they tended to their plants. "I'd imagine there's a town hall somewhere around here," the ranger observed.
"Sort of," Zanadar replied, "The mayor's home serves as town hall when needed, but from what I understand that isn't very often."
"Do we know the Mayor's name?" Renna asked.
"Dorbin," Zanadar said looking back to the girl. "Dorbin Gamstell. We should probably find a stable for the horses first though."
"Good idea," Morgan replied. He hopped down off of his horse and looked over towards the small group of children who had cautiously begun to gather together again. They eyed the group curiously. "Hi there," he said with a smile, "Do any of you happen to know where my friends and I could find the stables?"
One of the smaller children, a young, fair-haired boy, let out a frightened squeal, and the group once again scattered off into all directions. The big man laughed deeply as Morgan looked about with a confused expression. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked.
"I told you it wasn't me," Zanadar said to the old man as the rest of them slid off their horses.
"It was all of you," Renna chimed in knowingly.
Elandar peered back at the dark haired girl. "What?" he asked irritably.
"It's all of all of you," she explained in a pleasant tone. She looked to the big man. "You're wearing armor and a sword bigger than they are." She grinned and shifted her gaze to Morgan. "You, as adorable as you are, look like you haven't had a full night's rest ages. And you..." she said, turning towards Elandar, "Well... you're...you."
The three men stood silently for a moment, glancing dubiously at one another. Elandar arched an eyebrow back at the stable hand. "And I suppose you could do better?" he challenged.
Renna nodded. "Oh yes, much," she said seriously.
The old man gestured at the small Halfling child who had squealed. He was peeking his head out from behind a large rock a short distance off, trying to remain inconspicuous while staring wide eyed at the party. Upon realizing that he had been discovered, the fair-haired boy let out a startled gasp and leapt back into hiding.
"I hope you're ready to learn something," Renna said casually as she strolled over towards the large stone. When she got there, rather then going behind it she instead took a seat on the rock, her back to where the small child lay hidden.
She said something that Morgan could not quite make out and leaned back on the stone a bit, as if trying to find a comfortable spot. Then, after a few moments, slowly crawling along the ground on all fours, the fair-haired Halfling boy began to creep out from behind the rock. Cautiously at first, though he quickly became bolder. He looked up towards where Renna sat pretending not to notice him and grinned wickedly. Summoning up all his courage, the boy suddenly leapt to his feet, arms high in the air, and roared as fiercely as a small Halfling boy can roar.
The stable hand jumped back in mock surprise, nearly falling off the stone and held up her hands, as if to surrender. The victory was short lived though, as the boy was quickly overtaken by a relentless wave of giggles. Renna lowered her hands and began to laugh with him. She slid off the rock and sat down on the ground next to the boy, smiling warmly. They talked for a short while, Renna making exaggerated expressions and twice falling over, much to the delight of the young Halfling. Finally, after a quick session of furious tickling Renna gave the boy a brief hug and stood up. He waved fondly, and then ran off to go find his friends.
The stable hand walked back to the group, smiling broadly. "Apparently," she said, rejoining them, "the stables are right next to the tavern, which is just down this road a ways and then to the right. He says they will keep our horses for as long as we'd like and they will treat them very well. Apparently," she added, "one of his friends' uncle works there. How about that?"
"Was that all?" Elandar grumbled.
"Oh, and he has a kitten named Apple." She wrinkled her nose. "That's kind of an odd name for a cat, but I guess it likes apples," she said with a shrug. Renna then noticed the look the three men were giving her and grinned. "Don't let it get to you. It's not your fault you're all the same," she said in a consoling tone.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Zanadar asked pointedly.
"Boys..." she said rolling her eyes. "You may be bigger, stronger and smell worse but inside you're just the same as that child." She glanced at the ranger. "You can be lead around by the nose and be perfectly fine with it as long as you think you're the one in charge." She smiled. "But its okay, I forgive you."
Morgan wisely chose to stay quiet. He followed along silently while Renna and the old man bickered. As they made their way to the stables, leading their horses down the road, many of the village's residents began to take notice of their presence. They stood alongside the road or appeared in doorways to offer welcoming smiles or friendly waves.
"You'd think they were expecting us," Morgan observed.
"They probably were," Zanadar replied. The big man was right. The ranger had almost forgotten why they were here. They probably were expecting them.
"Well whatever the trouble is, it can't have them too afraid or they wouldn't be letting their children run around outside still."
"Good observation Morgan" the big man said. "I'm getting a little curious to find out what is bothering them, myself."
"I'm more curious to find out if they've finally got something good to drink around here," Elandar stated hopefully.
"Forget it, old man." Zanadar responded sternly. "Business first."
"That's right," Renna said with a mocking nod, "Business first."
It took only a few minutes to reach their destination and they quickly stabled their horses. By the time they reached the mayor's home though, it was nearly dark. The building was near the center of the village and was larger than most in town, but was constructed in the same fashion. The windows were all closed and there did not appear to be any light coming from inside the house.
"That doesn't look very promising," Morgan said as they approached the wide wooden door. He knocked. There was no answer.
"Well it isn't a big village." Zanadar said, "I'm sure he's around here somewhere."
Just then, a woman's voice called out from behind him. "Are you looking for the mayor?" Morgan turned around to see a Halfling woman standing in the doorway of a small home on the other side of the road. He squinted, trying to get a better look. She appeared to be young for a Halfling, and stood halfway out onto a small wooden porch.
"Yes we are," the ranger called back. "Has he gone for the night?"
The woman chuckled briefly. "You could say that. He's gone to the tavern. If he's not at home, you can usually find him there. You're the ones from the city, yes?"
"That we are, my lady," Zanadar chimed in.
"I thought so. Thank you for coming," she said. She then waved and turned back into her home. "You all have a pleasant evening"
"See," Elandar said, rubbing his bony old hands together, "I told you we should have gone to the tavern first."
Several minutes later, the party was once again just outside the tavern. Along with the stables, it had a higher roof than most of the buildings in Rindol Field, most likely to accommodate taller visitors to the village. Morgan was thankful for that, and was sure the big man was too.
He could hear music and laughter coming from inside the building. As Zanadar opened the door, he expected to be blasted with the same stench of sweat and watered down beer that the tavern back in New Targonor reeked of. He was surprised though to be surrounded by the pleasant aroma of a fresh oaken fire. It conjured up images of being back in Tursh. He much preferred that.
The inside of the tavern was remarkably clean. Halflings, both young and old filled the building, sitting around tables and lining the walls. The fireplace was along the far wall and three Halflings sat next to it on small stools whistling out playful melodies on simple wooden pipes.
A stout, rather chubby Halfling came rushing up towards the entrance. He looked to be middle aged, and had thin brown hair that was beginning to bald. He was wearing a spotless wool shirt and a pair of finely stitched work pants. In one hand, the Halfling held a sticky looking pastry and in the other a large tankard. "You must be the rangers from New Targonor," he exclaimed cheerfully. "Welcome to our village! I'm Dorbin Gamstell," the mayor said, introducing himself. "Thank you for coming so quickly."
"Our pleasure," Morgan responded politely. "My name is Morgan Derek, and these are my friends, Zanadar, Elandar and Renna," he said, gesturing towards each of them.
"A pleasure to meet you all," Dorbin said kindly.
"So," Zanadar asked, "What seems to be the problem?"
