Skaldt Tales: Phrim - When I'm Good & Ready
“I can’t believe you used to be a Skaell-father.” The female voice from behind him trailed off for a moment. “I thought only stuffy old men did that kind of thing.” Sheets and furs rumpled for a moment on the bed as the woman turned over.
“Well, I had to. There is an important sort of prestige in caring for the young ones.” He kept his back towards the woman in the bed, focusing hard on the sheet of parchment before him. He held a drying quill in his right hand suspended over the page. A few drops fell from the sharpened end, blotting the edge of the paper.
“Phrim. Why won’t you come back to bed? I feel we haven’t even got started, yet.” More ruffling of sheets and furs as the woman sat up. “Stop the scratching on that paper and give me attention.” She gave out a short laugh while patting the bed beside her.
“This needs my attention right now. In due time, love.” Phrim looked over his shoulder for a moment, taking in the pleasant sight of the bare-chested woman smiling back at him in his bed. She threw her hair around in a flourish and laid back down on the authroc-down pillows heaped at the head of the bed.
Phrim returned his attention back to the page, quickly dabbing the quill in a wooden ink-barge on his desk, then gliding it over the page with a few more strokes. He had to ensure this missive was completed and sent before the end of the day, if the information that was trickling in to him was correct, he would be very busy for the rest of his time in Alsira Thaenat. He very much wanted to re-join the beautiful woman in his bed, it had taken him a week to seduce her and he wasn’t quite done with her, but his duties were far more pressing.
Dearest Father,
You were right to encourage me to travel to this city to clear my mind. The people here are quite friendly and the services I have access to are quite adequate. I have been able to stay here in Alsira Thaenat for two months and feel that my presence is causing a bit of a stir. I believe I will come into some work soon. I should be travelling for any work that I pick up, so my next missive may be delayed for a few months.
I have had a chance to talk with Oelvann Molth who is the interregnum leader of this community until a new chieftain has been selected. The Elder Circle is in a bit of a disarray since the last chieftain died under suspicious causes. I have also been able to observe the fellow you suggested I talk with who is a vhollen of the local warrior caste. I haven’t had a chance to talk with him yet, as he is quite insular and surly. I have received some information from the local patrons of the leiggen-skappf that the vhollen has sacked a nearby settlement called Haaken Vaulthaen. Many of the warriors under him who fought in the siege and sacking have fond things to say of him, yet many of the Elder Circle fear he will throw this region into chaos.
Last eve I was able to talk to a man taken as a slave by the vhollen, he was caged in an open area awaiting his trial and then formal branding. His name is Xanolith, according to him, he was a sorcerer in service to the Order of the Owls. I believe you are aware of that Haakuenth group to the south, so I say no more. He stated that he had informed the vhollen of a great ruin far to the north that may have important treasure of historical significance. He traded this information to the vhollen for his life, and to shorten his enslavement to only two years rather than the traditional six years for war-crimes against our people.
I must rush away now, as the pleasant distractions of this place call me from my duties, back to my craven nature. Remember the details I place in here. Vorrginth. A blood-haired warrior. Two brothers quarrel. In-experienced explorers. A blind soothsayer with grasping hands. In the shadows the servants remain devoted. I’m sure those will assist you should it be some time before I get in contact with you, again.
Give all my love to Mother Mirror, Brother Star, and Weeping Sister.
Your eternally devoted Son,
– Phrim
He paused for a moment, then lifted a small pile of ashes into his hand, blowing the full amount across the page. He lifted up the parchment, flicking it hard several times then folding the entire missive in a third, then a third again, finally sealing it with a heavy daub of crimson wax.
Phrim turned in his chair, crossing his legs and gazing at the finished missive in his hand. He could hear a rummaging from outside of his skappf and held his breath for a few moments. It took the outside interloper some time to open the cloth door-cover of the skappf and stick his head through.
“Phrim?” A young man’s voice. The face was flush with exertion, close-cropped brown hair atop a nondescript head, framing brown eyes that flashed around the room. “Phrim of the Skaldt?”
“Yes, young man, that is me.” He stood up from the chair, taking two calm steps towards the doorway. From head to toe he was completely in the nude, his masculinity on full display. The young man’s eyes opened wide and quickly dropped down to Phrim’s endowed manhood, then quickly back to his face.
“My apologies for catching you in a private moment.” The young man began to stammer and breath deeply. “You have been requested by Oelvann Molth of the Elder Circle. Immediately.”
“What does this most immediate request entail?” Phrim continued to remain calm and un-phased, then crossed his arms.
“I can’t share too much information, revered skaldt. It is an urgent meeting. I believe the Oelvann wants you to join an expedition to the North.” The young man pushed his shoulder through the cloth.
Phrim gave a confident smile and a grunt of affirmation. “I’ll be there shortly.”
“Oelvann Molth said that-”
“In my due time, young man. Or should you wish to inform the rest of the Elder Circle that you are mistreating their guest? A, as you say, revered skaldt.”
“I will inform her of your arrival.” The young man gave a nod, disappearing from view beneath the cloth for a moment, then reappearing. “My apologies.”
Phrim gave a wave of his hand to dismiss the young man who bowed once again and left the doorway. Peace returned to the darkened skappf and Phrim stood in the room consumed with his thoughts. The plans were underway and the information that came to him was correct.
He walked slowly to the doorway of the skappf, opening the cloth doorway wide and emerging out in the burning sunlight of the twin suns above. He continued to hold the missive in his left hand, and he began to scratch at his chest with his right. He was heedless of who might see him outside in the narrow cliff-side streets of the city.
“You put the boy in his place?” A gruff voice stated to Phrim’s side.
“Most assuredly, Dultri.” Phrim lifted the missive from his side and held it out to the man beside him, sitting on a wooden stool outside of the skappf. “Here, I trust you will ensure it is delivered timely and with privacy.”
Dultri gave a long grunt and grabbed the parchment in a dirt-covered and meaty hand. He placed the missive into the inside of his fur-trimmed breastplate, then returned his attention to the immense and jagged sword resting upon his lap. He picked up the sword and began to grind a whetstone along the edge.
Phrim looked over the bald man whose face was a mess of beard, scars, caked blood and accumulated sorrowful wrinkles, then gave a nod. “I have a woman to tend to. That pompous Oelvann can wait until I’m good and satisfied.” He turned on his heels and went back into the skappf with a flourish. “No more disturbances, Dultri.”
The bald man gave another grunt, then spit upon his sword, continuing to grind away once again.
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