Ascilius. “I will thrash you within an inch of your life before I am done.”
“You can try,” shouted Elerian in reply as he tried to slip free of Ascilius’s iron grip. Up to now most of his and the Dwarf’s blindly directed blows had missed their mark, but now, as he swung his right arm up, Elerian felt his clenched fist contact a soft, prominent object that could only be Ascilius’s nose. There was a roar of outrage from the Dwarf, and an instant later, all the air was driven from Elerian’s lungs as Ascilius landed a heavy blow on his ribs with his right hand.
“They will hurt each other in a moment,” thought Falco apprehensively to himself when he saw that the battle had escalated, but he was at a loss on how to stop the altercation. Well acquainted with the enormous strength of the two combatants, he judged that it would be extremely foolish on his part to come within range of their flying feet and fists. Because Ascilius had informed Falco before they left Iulius that Elerian intended to meet his future bride on the plains, he was inspired to suddenly shout loudly, “Anthea! Talk some sense into these two!”
Upon hearing the word Anthea, Ascilius and Elerian sprang apart as if the other had suddenly become red hot. Elerian instantly removed the spell on Ascilius’s hood before looking guiltily about. Ascilius, who had restored his vision by lifting the edge of his hood, also looked around nervously, his dark eyes darting uneasily here and there beneath his bushy brows. After a moment, he frowned at Falco, who shrugged.
“I couldn’t think of anything else to separate the two of you,” said Falco with a gleam of amusement in his eyes. “I must say that I had no idea that the mere mention of Anthea’s name would strike such fear into the hearts of two mighty warriors such as yourselves.”
“You are mistaken to think me afraid, Falco,” said Ascilius, his frown deepening at the suggestion that he had been frightened. “The mention of Anthea’s name here in this wild place merely startled me.”
“Exactly right,” seconded Elerian as he gingerly felt the ribs on his right side with his left hand to see if they were broken. “I was only startled, too,” he said solemnly to Falco.
“Fearful or startled,” said Falco with a smile, “I think that a change of drivers is now in order. What say you Ascilius?”
Ascilius did not answer immediately. Scowling at Elerian as if he was considering another attempt to exact revenge for his injuries, he gingerly examined his bruised nose with his left hand. His irritation promptly turned to alarm when he felt a decided bend to the right at the end of it.
“What have you done to my nose?” he demanded angrily of Elerian.
“No worse than what you have done to my poor ribs,” replied Elerian sharply. “Besides, it gives you a rather raffish appearance,” he said with a gleam of laughter in his dark eyes. “Perhaps you will have better luck with the ladies now.”
“Fix it and let us be on our way,” Falco implored Elerian as Ascilius’s face darkened like a thundercloud.
“I still think it is an improvement,” muttered Elerian to himself, but he warily reached out his right hand and lightly touched his fingertips to Ascilius’s nose which immediately reassumed its noble and correct proportions. Pulling vigorously on Elerian’s left arm, Falco immediately hustled him into the carriage. Grumbling to himself, Ascilius climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Are you married, Falco,” Elerian asked curiously as the carriage began to roll on again.
“Good heavens no!” said Falco with a shudder. “Dwarves marry late if they marry at all. Who would want to assume the restraints of matrimony before he had to?” Elerian groaned silently at Falco’s reply, resolving to ask no more Dwarves about their opinion of matrimony.
“Hopefully, I will find out for myself soon enough,” he thought to himself before healing his sore ribs. He rode
“You can try,” shouted Elerian in reply as he tried to slip free of Ascilius’s iron grip. Up to now most of his and the Dwarf’s blindly directed blows had missed their mark, but now, as he swung his right arm up, Elerian felt his clenched fist contact a soft, prominent object that could only be Ascilius’s nose. There was a roar of outrage from the Dwarf, and an instant later, all the air was driven from Elerian’s lungs as Ascilius landed a heavy blow on his ribs with his right hand.
“They will hurt each other in a moment,” thought Falco apprehensively to himself when he saw that the battle had escalated, but he was at a loss on how to stop the altercation. Well acquainted with the enormous strength of the two combatants, he judged that it would be extremely foolish on his part to come within range of their flying feet and fists. Because Ascilius had informed Falco before they left Iulius that Elerian intended to meet his future bride on the plains, he was inspired to suddenly shout loudly, “Anthea! Talk some sense into these two!”
Upon hearing the word Anthea, Ascilius and Elerian sprang apart as if the other had suddenly become red hot. Elerian instantly removed the spell on Ascilius’s hood before looking guiltily about. Ascilius, who had restored his vision by lifting the edge of his hood, also looked around nervously, his dark eyes darting uneasily here and there beneath his bushy brows. After a moment, he frowned at Falco, who shrugged.
“I couldn’t think of anything else to separate the two of you,” said Falco with a gleam of amusement in his eyes. “I must say that I had no idea that the mere mention of Anthea’s name would strike such fear into the hearts of two mighty warriors such as yourselves.”
“You are mistaken to think me afraid, Falco,” said Ascilius, his frown deepening at the suggestion that he had been frightened. “The mention of Anthea’s name here in this wild place merely startled me.”
“Exactly right,” seconded Elerian as he gingerly felt the ribs on his right side with his left hand to see if they were broken. “I was only startled, too,” he said solemnly to Falco.
“Fearful or startled,” said Falco with a smile, “I think that a change of drivers is now in order. What say you Ascilius?”
Ascilius did not answer immediately. Scowling at Elerian as if he was considering another attempt to exact revenge for his injuries, he gingerly examined his bruised nose with his left hand. His irritation promptly turned to alarm when he felt a decided bend to the right at the end of it.
“What have you done to my nose?” he demanded angrily of Elerian.
“No worse than what you have done to my poor ribs,” replied Elerian sharply. “Besides, it gives you a rather raffish appearance,” he said with a gleam of laughter in his dark eyes. “Perhaps you will have better luck with the ladies now.”
“Fix it and let us be on our way,” Falco implored Elerian as Ascilius’s face darkened like a thundercloud.
“I still think it is an improvement,” muttered Elerian to himself, but he warily reached out his right hand and lightly touched his fingertips to Ascilius’s nose which immediately reassumed its noble and correct proportions. Pulling vigorously on Elerian’s left arm, Falco immediately hustled him into the carriage. Grumbling to himself, Ascilius climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Are you married, Falco,” Elerian asked curiously as the carriage began to roll on again.
“Good heavens no!” said Falco with a shudder. “Dwarves marry late if they marry at all. Who would want to assume the restraints of matrimony before he had to?” Elerian groaned silently at Falco’s reply, resolving to ask no more Dwarves about their opinion of matrimony.
“Hopefully, I will find out for myself soon enough,” he thought to himself before healing his sore ribs. He rode
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