Welcome to Three Word Thursday #40. If you enjoy reading my story, leave a comment then click on the names of the other players and go see how they used these bygone words. You’ll be entertained (and possibly educated) all at once.
The Mage Warriors
Evaard stood and watched the riders come. Behind him, still inside the house, Troga waited. Chevall and the boys had slipped from the cottage and, using the building for cover, made their way to into the woods. Ten war horses thundered up to the cabin, each of them carrying a battle scarred warrior. One man urged his mount ahead of the others and stopped less than a yard from Evaard.
Evaard and the warrior stared at one another in silence. The warrior wore black leather marked with hand tooled runes. Evaard recognized them as symbols of magic. These then were not mere warriors, but sorcerers trained in sword and spell. Now Evaard understood the theft of the dragon eggs. These men wanted to adimpleate themselves in dragon magic.
Just before the silence stretched to long for politeness, Evaard spoke. “Well met, wayfarers. What brings you to my home?”
“May we water our horses at your well?” The black clad mage-warrior asked.
Evaard gestured toward the pump. “Please,” he said. “Help yourself. You will find the water cold and sweet.”
With the exception of their leader, the men moved with lubency toward the pump. The black clad mage-warrior dismounted and remained with Evaard. “I am Ranold,” he said. “Mage Warrior to King DeMagik. We seek a rogue Knight and an errant dragon. Have you seen either of them?”
DeMagik had no mage warriors. Evaard was surprised by the man’s bold lie until he realized that he had left his cape and phalerae in the cabin. To Ranold, Evaard appeared to be a fighting man without allegiance. “It is unwise to hunt dragons,” Evaard spoke. “Especially dragons who willingly keep company with men.”
“I do as the king commands,” Ranold answered. “And you. Is this your cabin? Is your allegiance to King DeMagik?”
“I am simply passing through, ” Evaard said, stepping sideways so he could see both the black mage and his men who were stripping their gear off and splashing happily in the well. Evaard pointed at the shack. “I came upon this cabin empty and decided to rest for a couple of days. The roof is sound and as I said, the water is sweet.”
“I am afraid I must insist on checking the cabin,” Ranold said.
“By order of the king?” Evaard queried.
“Yes, of course. By order of the king.”
Evaard stepped aside, far aside, as Ranold approached the cabin door.
“Dragons are pamphagous, are they not?” Evaard asked.
Ranold paused with his hand upon the door latch. “Yes, they are,” he said. “Why do you ask.”
Evaard waved his hand toward the mountain. “It may not be related, but yesterday I talked to a farmer from the next valley and he said his cattle were disappearing.”
Ranold said, “Not an hour ago I talked to an old drunk who said the dragon came this way. Perhaps you are trying to distract me?”
Evaard laughed and motioned toward the cabin door. “Please, go in and you will know the truth.
Ranold lifted the latch and pushed on the door.