Naitachal nodded. And I won't be able to use magic to deal with that, either. I suspect I am going to be very busy. And so will Alaire.
Chapte Alaire thought he would fall asleep immediately after the long ride. Instead, his aching muscles and the hard, unfamiliar "bed" kept him turning and tossing all night. Long after the fire had burned down to coals, he dozed off, his dreams colored by the sounds of wild things prowling the night outside the shelter.
Curled up in a tight little ball in his snug bed Alaire awoke to the sound of sloshing water. Naitachal was holding a leather bucket of water above him, tip- ping it ever so slightly over his stomach. Even from this position he saw that the water was just about to drench him.
"Ae-ye, you wouldn't!" Alaire shouted, scrambling into a defensive position -- as well as he could, bur- dened with his bedroll. The bucket got his attention, as did the mischievous glint in Naitachal's blue eyes, a bizarre sight when combined with the black face Dark Elf.
"Ah, but I would. I've been calling your name for the last quarter-hour," he said. The bucket hadn't wavered. "Are you going to get up, or am I..."
Alaire thrashed around, trying to get away from the bucket but in so doing he managed to roll into Nai- tachal's legs. The sudden jostle dislodged Naitachal's grip. With a loud slosh the water and bucket land Alaire's lap. And yes, the water was cold. Icy, in "YYYAAaaaaaarghhhl" Alaire shrieked, throwing the soaked bedroll off his legs and scrambling to his feet. As he made for the blazing fireplace he saw that he'd soaked Naitachal as well.
"That was not what I intended," Naitachal said. "I assure you. But it did get you on your feet. We have another long day ahead of us."
Alaire glared at him, trying to think of a clever retort. Unable to think of one, he settled for the obvi- ous. "That water was cold!" he said indignantly. .
"Then why did you knock it out of my hands?" Nai- tachal asked. "You needed a bath, anyway. You humans get a little ripe after a few days of not bath- ing."
"Don't remind me," Alaire said, somewhat sadly.
Normally he would soak in a hot bath before bed -- without having to haul his own firewood. Muscles he did not use in swordwork ached. At this point, Alaire had had about enough of this kind of "adventure." He could not imagine having to travel the countryside singing for his meals and bed. He no longer envie Bards who did.
"Should we get there today?" he asked hopefully.
Naitachal glanced through the open cottage door at the sun, still low on the horizon. "If we get on the road before the sun sets, then perhaps we will. I've already cooked breakfast."
Alaire couldn't see breakfast, but he could smell it.
A closer look at the fireplace showed him the delicious aroma's source, two little rabbits roasting on a spit.
His mood improved immediately, as Naitachal took both rabbits from the spit and lay one on a piece of clean bark for him. Yum! A hot breakfast alone is worth getting drenched with ice water.
As Alaire tore into the rabbit, he realized the water he'd awakened to was fresh, and not tainted with the leathery tang of the old bucket.
"Where did you get the water anyway?" he asked between bites.
"Ah," Naitachal said, settling down next to him and starting on his own breakfast. "There is a shallow spring down the side of this ridge. Not more than a trickle, but it was enough to water the horses and bring a bucket full up here for you. It was to be your drinking water, not your bath."
Alaire grinned, for by now the shock of the icy water had worn off. It's hard to be mad at him for too long, especially when he lets me sleep and catches and fixes breakfast. Then his mood brightened even more.
We could arrive in Rozinki today. There will be an inn with real baths!
They packed and loaded the horses, but before leaving Alaire sought out the spring. It was a mere trickle, as Naitachal had said, but it was very fresh.
And very cold, he rediscovered as he splashed some on his face.
When he bent to drink, he felt something distinct, and familiar. A wave of weak magic passed over him.
He froze momentarily, then resumed drinking, sati- ating himself while pretending to ignore the magical probe that had fixed on him. It felt warm and tingly, like a large beam of sunlight; but unlike sunlight, this had a feeling of control behind it. Who was controlling it, he couldn't guess, but he had the distinct impres- sion it was coming from the direction they were traveling towards.