‘They call them kilts, Althalus.’
‘A dress is a dress, Em. What’s wrong with leggings like mine?’
‘They prefer kilts. Don’t be picking any fights with them about their clothing. Keep your opinions to yourself.’
‘Yes, Ma’am,’ he replied. ‘You’ll want fish for dinner again, I suppose?’
‘If it’s not too much trouble.’
‘And if it is?’
‘That’s just too bad, isn’t it?’
CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_62e73428-a158-564e-aba2-ca0180c601bd)
Althalus and Emmy woke early the next morning, but they waited until the villagers started stirring before Althalus mounted his horse and rode through the woods to the trail that led on down to the settlement. He noticed that the houses were more substantial now than they’d been last time he’d been here.
They reached the settlement just as a husky fellow in a dirty kilt came out of one of the houses near the wall of the castle. He was stretching and yawning, but when he saw Althalus riding toward him, his eyes became suddenly alert. ‘You there – stranger,’ he called.
‘Were you talking to me?’ Althalus replied innocently.
‘You don’t live here, so you’re a stranger, aren’t you?’
Althalus made some show of looking around. ‘Why, blast my eyes, I do believe you’re right. Isn’t it strange that I hadn’t noticed that myself?’
The man’s suspicious look softened, and he started to chuckle.
‘Was it something I said?’ Althalus asked, feigning wide-eyed innocence and climbing down from his horse.
‘You’re a humorous fellow, I see.’
‘I try. I’ve found that a little humor smoothes over the awkward moments when I first meet somebody. It lets people know that I’m not really a stranger, but only a friend they haven’t met yet.’
‘I’ll have to remember that one,’ the now openly grinning man said. ‘And what might your name be, friend I haven’t met yet?’
‘I’m called Althalus.’
‘Is that supposed to be a joke?’
‘That wasn’t what I had in mind. Is there something wrong with it?’
‘There’s a very old story in our clan about a man named Althalus. Oh, my name’s Degrur, by the way.’ He held out his hand.
Althalus shook hands with him. ‘Pleased to meet you. What’s the gist of this story about that other Althalus?’
‘Well, as it turned out, he was a thief.’
‘Really? What did he steal?’
‘Money, I’m told. The Clan-Chief back in those days was named Gosti Big Belly, and he was the richest man in the world.’
‘My goodness!’
‘Oh, yes. Gosti’s strongroom was filled to the rafters with gold – until Althalus came along. Anyway, this Althalus could tell jokes so funny that they made the walls laugh. Then, late one night after everybody in the hall had drunk himself to sleep, the thief Althalus broke into Gosti’s strongroom and stole every single gold coin there. The story says that he had to steal twenty horses just to carry it all away.’
‘That’s a lot of gold.’
‘It was indeed. I’d imagine that the story’s been exaggerated a little over the years, though, so there probably wasn’t all that much gold in the strongroom.’
‘I’m sure you’re right, Degrur. I heard a story once about a man who was supposed to be as big as a mountain.’
‘I’m going on to the hall’, Degrur said. ‘Why don’t you come along, and I’ll introduce you to our chief? I think he’d really like to meet a man called Althalus.’
‘Probably so that he can keep his eye on me. My name might raise a few suspicions around here.’
‘Don’t worry, my friend. Nobody takes those old stories seriously any more.’
‘I certainly hope not.’
‘Would it alarm you if I told you that you’ve got a cat peeping out of the hood of your cloak?’
‘No, I know she’s there. I was camped up in the mountains, and she wandered in – probably to steal some food. We sort of took to each other, so we’re traveling together for a while. What’s your chief’s name?’
‘Albron. He’s young, but we think he’s going to work out fairly well. His father, Baskon, spent most of his time face down in the nearest ale barrel, and a drunken Clan-Chief tends to make mistakes.’
‘What happened to him?’
‘He got roaring drunk one night and went up to the top of the highest tower to challenge God to a fight. Some say that God took him up on it, but I think he just wobbled and fell off the tower. He splattered himself all over the courtyard.’
‘Everybody dies from something, I suppose.’
They went on into the courtyard of the stone castle. Althalus noticed that it was paved, much as the courtyard of the House at the End of the World had been. Degrur led the way up the steps to the massive door and they proceeded down a long, torchlit corridor to the dining hall.
There were bearded men sitting at a long table there, eating breakfast off of wooden plates. Althalus glanced around as he and Degrur approached the table. The bleak stone walls were decorated with battle-flags and a few antiquated weapons, and the logs burning in the fire-pit crackled cheerfully. The stone floor had obviously been swept that morning, and there weren’t any dogs gnawing bones in the corners.
‘Neatness counts,’ Emmy’s voice murmured approvingly.
‘Maybe,’ he replied, ‘but not for very much.’
‘My Chief,’ Degrur said to the kilted man with shrewd eyes and a clean-shaven face at the head of the table, ‘this traveler was passing through, and I thought you might want to meet him, since he’s very famous.’
‘Oh?’ the Clan-Chief said.
‘Everybody’s heard of him, my Chief. His name’s Althalus.’
‘You’re not serious!’
Degrur was grinning openly now. ‘That’s what he told me, Albron. Of course, if that’s really his name, he might have lied about it to put me off my guard.’
