He tried again with most of his armor removed and his sword on the
ground, hoping that he could squeak under the limit, but it didn’t work,
and he stepped back from the wardrobe, sighing. Hannah had been right.
He’d
“Ready?” asked Alfric. “It probably makes more sense for you to be at the front rather than the back, so I can take the bulk of the weight. It’s heavy, but shouldn’t be too bad for us. A hundred pounds, maybe?”
“A hundred pounds, uphill nearly a mile and a half,” said Hannah with a sigh. “And it’s more than a hundred. Plus another fifty for the book. Well, let’s get to it, ay.”
Verity elected not to use her lute, perhaps because they were moving uphill or because she was tired, but that left only her voice, which turned out to be quite sufficient for something as simple as granting Alfric and Hannah strength. The song she chose was one about a pair of squirrels attempting to bring a large apple home, wrestling it between themselves to get it to their tree. It was a jaunty little tune but also slightly mocking in a way that reminded Alfric of Mizuki’s preferred mode of humor.
The climb was a tough one, even with the help, and what had been a nice ramble down the hill was a slog going up. It was all made far worse by the fact that they’d done a dungeon in between. Alfric was sure that his muscles would be killing him the next day, and the prospect of simply leaving the wardrobe behind in Traeg’s Knob became more attractive with every step he took.
They took frequent breaks and, halfway up, a longer one.
“Not sure I appreciate the lyrics of these songs you’ve been singin’,” said Hannah. “Two squirrels trying to wrestle an apple up to their tree? A man who can’t get his hand from a jar because he’s grabbed ahold of too many pickles?”
“All in good fun,” said Verity. “If it really bothers you, I can find something else to sing. It’s a pleasant day, and my work, as I see it, is done. A warm meal, a hot bath, and a soft bed, those are the three things left today.” She took a long drink from her waterskin. Almost everything she was able to put into the book had been put in there, save for her bag. Alfric was carrying the book but wishing that he’d sent it with Isra.
“Nah,” said Hannah. “Silly songs for a silly trip. I’ll let you know if it rankles. I’m not shy.”
“The silliness is a part of it,” said Alfric. “It’ll make a good story someday, even if my legs have turned to jelly by the end of it.”
“And that’s what you’re in it for?” asked Verity. “The stories?”
“Some,” Alfric said. “The stories, the glory, the money, the adventure, the way we’ve got a chance to play our role in the history of the world. Something new and interesting around every corner, things that no one has ever before set eyes on, items that are absolutely unique. Camaraderie and the close-knit relationship of a dungeoneering party, like brothers.” He hesitated, then looked at the two of them. “Or sisters, I suppose.”
“It does sound nice, when you put it like that,” said Verity. “But it’s a very rosy view of something that, as we experienced not too long ago, can be very dangerous and scary, not to mention, well… brutal. Gory.”
“Ay, but I’d prefer Alfric’s view,” said Hannah. “Seems a better way to look at it. And there’s a feelin’ of accomplishment, ay.”
“There is that,” Verity said with a nod. “I felt awful after Mizuki stole the song from me, not that she meant to, but seeing what we could accomplish together, there was a part of me that considered doing this for a longer time might not be such a bad thing. It was the first time I ever felt… I don’t know. Powerful.”
“Really?” asked Hannah. “You’re a first-class bard, so far as I know such things.”
“Well, thank you,” said Verity. “But being a bard… it’s
“You know you’re speaking to a healing cleric, ay?” asked Hannah.
“Yes, but you ripped the arm off that one monster and killed the bear outright,” said Verity.
“There’s nothing wrong with a life lived for others,” said Hannah.
“That’s what a cleric
“I suppose,” said Verity. “For me, it was always about the different ways the music could make people feel. I wanted to create and have others revel in that creation. But being a bard means that the effects come first, over and above the melodies and the lyrics. The term we use is dissonance.” She shrugged. “That’s why I ran away, if I’m allowed such melodramatic framing. There was a horrible tension that I couldn’t figure out how to deal with.”
