Chương 7: Chapter 7: On the Road

"Well, if it isn't the ruffian from last night," a voice calls out in jest.

I blink my eyes. My body aches and I realize that I must have crashed on the cobblestone. 'What a poor place to rest,' I think as my muscles tense. I rise to a sitting position and massage my neck.

"I thought elves didn't need sleep," the voice belongs to a vaguely familiar face.

"We actually meditate," I respond. "Though, with all else aside, who are you?"

"Corliss," the woman replies. "You probably regret a fuss with the barkeep, no?"

'The barkeep?' I ask myself. A rough rest makes for a scattered mind. I rub my temples in an effort to remember last night. 'The White Swan!' The name of the tavern shoots across my mind. Once I have a recollection of one item, then others follow.

"Are you here to just mock me?" I scold.

I don't particularly enjoy being teased. Especially, when I first wake up for the day. Corliss looks to me with the expression of an older sibling. The type that loves being wicked to the younger children.

"My apologies," she smiles. "I didn't mean to wake you up on the wrong side of the street."

"Well Corliss," I say with a yawn. "I need to be off and find breakfast."

"What luck," she looks at me with a wink. With a thumb pointing to herself, Corliss continues her skit. "I own a bakery down the road. Since you have had such a rough night, I'll treat you to some pastries."

"Ikhekhe?" I ask with the interest of a child. "You mean sweet cakes and such?"

She nods her head in a playful way. I raise my hood and clasp both hands.

"I would love to accept your offer." I place a hand over my chest. "Umlingo at your service."

"Splendid!" Corliss beams. "Come, walk with me."

She extends her arm. I shrug and link arms with her. I do not know what kind of person Corliss is, but she seems overly kind. Yet, one who is offered food cannot complain. 'I just hope she isn't lying about the bakery,' I think with an inner frown. I place my doubt aside and allow myself to enjoy the walk.

Today, Brigsdale is more pleasant. I should learn not to allow emotions to cloud my judgment. A note that I will mark for future endeavors. With the past aside, I have a moment to enjoy the present. Brigsdale is a larger town than Riverwood. The buildings are taller and more compact. Working on three floors is quite the project. 'I wonder how long this settlement took to be finished,' I ponder to myself.

My guide is quiet. Corliss must have noticed how frequently my head turns. Every new town is worth exploring. The mind has a way of capturing images for later use. I can see the townsfolk walking along the streets. There are a few children playing hopscotch. Down another road, I can hear the hammering of a blacksmith shop. What catches my eye, is a glimmering bracelet upon the lady’s wrist. 'Perhaps, I could swipe another gift.'

My gaze returns to the path ahead. There's a little bridge that leads to an area of town which has a variety of scents.

"Are there more bakeshops around?" I look towards my guide.

"Yes, but ours is the best for sweets," Corliss smiles while lifting a finger.

Her bakery is along the second street from the bridge. The smell of cakes and sweet breads waft through the air. My nose twitches and I can identify a key ingredient.

"Cinnamon!" I shout.

Corliss releases my arm. She draws a hand to her mouth and laughs.

"You're just like a little one right now!" She wipes away a tear. "I'm sorry, but I didn't take you for one so…"

She pauses to find a word. Yet, I can feel my cheeks flush. 'Embarrassed, yes that's how I feel,' I think to myself. In an effort to find a distraction, I look away.

I feel a hand on my back as Corliss invites me inside.

The bakery has a sense of warmth. Regardless of the oven heat, the shop is charming. There are various shelves lined with many baskets. In each basket, is a different combination of taste. No wonder why the shop is longstanding. The bakers use many different spices and doughs to assure that their customers have a new sweet to try.

"What's the shop's name?" I ask while watching Corliss round the counter.

"We're the Sugarbloom," she replies with pride. "Welcome! So, what would you like?"

"Definitely the cinnamon roll," I say while pointing to a row of delicate pastries.

"Well," she begins to say. "We have them with pecans, walnuts, or none."

"The one with pecans please," I bow my head.

"Enjoy!" Corliss places a nice sized roll on a small plate in front of me.

"Thank you," I smile.

I bring the roll to my mouth. Instantaneously, the pleasant smell of cinnamon greets my nose. The first bite makes my mouth water. Inside, the pecans provide an extra textural surprise.

"Delicious!" I exclaim.

"You can try this one too," she says while gathering another roll. "This one is made with fresh blueberries and is a Brigsdale favorite."

I watch the golden bracelet jingle as she moves. 'Behave yourself Umlingo. She’s being generous.' My eyes blink rapidly before nodding in appreciation. There's a pause in speech as I continue eating. The rolls are definitely some of the best treats that I have had an opportunity to have in a long time.

"So," Corliss breaks the silence. "What's an elf like you doing in town?"

I pause before replying. 'To lie or not to lie, that's the debate.' My mind balances which scenario will be beneficial.

"I'm here to deliver a letter to a dwarf, by a dwarf," I declare my task with purpose. "The sender gave me word that his brother may be somewhere in Brigsdale."

The decision stands with honesty. After all, perhaps I will receive a clue as to where a Sindre may do business in town.

"Let me think," she taps her chin with a finger. "The smithy may know more. He exchanges materials with the dwarves."

The news brings me a wave of excitement. 'I have to go now,' I think to myself. I finish my rolls and begin rushing to the door.

"Wait!" The woman's voice demands. "Here, you have more for the road."

I return to the counter. She moves through a variety of baskets and places the goods into a pouch. With a broad smile, Corliss hands me the bag.

"Good luck!" she beams.

"Thank you," I reply while poking my nose through the bag. "Look, this one matches my hair!"

I pull out an orange scone. Glancing it over, I slowly start to smell its base ingredient.

"That's comical!" Corliss laughs as though the case is coincidental. "That's a carrot and raisin scone."

"Thank you so much," I say with my eyes closed. "I must go now."

I place the scone back into the pouch. After tying the bag to my belt, I steal a kiss from the kind stranger. Just a peck on the cheek. With excited feet, I proceed to the door.

"Should you visit Brigsdale again," the woman's voice rings. "Please drop by!"

"I promise," I pound my chest. "Take care!"

Carefully, I shut the door behind me. With my ears poised, I ready my senses to pinpoint where the blacksmith shop is. 'I recall the sound of steel towards the bridge,' the thought passes. With a direction in mind, I bounce off like a hound in a fox chase.

I sprint along the streets. Once the bridge comes into view, the sound of hammering grows louder. Ting...ting...ting...

I follow the sound and approach my checkpoint. With both arms, I open the double doors.

"Are there any dwarves here?" I ask in a loud voice.

The blacksmith stops his work. He looks towards me with a confused eye.

"Excuse me?" His question bellows in a low growl.

Clearly, someone is a bit upset. I approach the smithy and restate my inquiry.

"A dwarf you say?" The blacksmith scratches his beard. "What's your reason?"

"I have a letter from his brother," I explain. "I'm looking for Vidar."

"Vidar!" The blacksmith's eyes glint. "He just set off for home a little while ago."

"To the Beorg Mountains?" I ask with a tinge of disbelief.

"Yes," he nods. "Though if you're quicker than a donkey carrying its weight in steel, then you'll be able to bump into him on the road."

"Is that so?" I smile while glancing at the daggers on the table. "Here’s a token of my appreciation."

I reach into the pastry pouch. Dragging out the cursed carrot scone, I hand the parcel to the blacksmith.

"It's not much but," I say with a smile. My sentence is interrupted by deep laughter.

"Oh, that's fine!" The blacksmith beams. "Thank you."

After I hand him the scone, the blacksmith begins eating voraciously. While distracted with the treat, I shamelessly take a dagger. Quickly, I hide the piece in my robe and exit the shop. Who can blame me? My old one is in need of a replacement. I shake my head. I cannot fall into an internal debate.

"Let's go!" I say out loud in exuberance.

I sprint towards the west of town. Once I come across the gate, I can see a sign that reads: "To the Beorg Mountain Pass."

Such luck! I dash along the dusty road. Since the dwarf travels with an animal, then they would need to stop every so often to feed. Additionally, a donkey can be quite stubborn to handle. I continue along the path until dusk. At the moment, I feel defeated. 'I must have missed him,' my inner thoughts frown. Yet, my ears perk up with the sound of hooves.

I run faster. Up ahead, I can see the vague shapes of figures. I focus my gaze. Upon closer inspection, I identify a lone dwarf with a donkey and cart.

"Unnskyld meg!" I shout mid breath. "Are you Vidar?"

My voice stops the dwarf in his tracks. He turns around and appears confused about my presence. The donkey brays in alarm once I step forward. Despite his evident frustration, he attempts to coax the donkey into a state of comfort.

"I'm sorry," I apologize in between heavy breaths. Once I regain balance, I continue to mark my inquiry. "Is your name Vidar?"

The Sindre with bright red hair and green eyes scowls.

"And what's it to you?" he replies in a haughty tone.

Why are good deeds often faced with difficulty? I drop to the ground. While sitting, I look up at the dwarf.

"Are you Vidar, or not?" I ask with an attempt to hide my disappointment.

"Maybe," the dwarf snorts.

Instead of continuing the conversation, the Sindre marches away. He raises his hand to signal me to leave. 'Why me?' I ask myself. After the poor introduction, I simply lay flat on the road. While watching the sun dip, I resolve to try again once the dwarf sets up camp. Perhaps, I need a more friendly approach.

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