Aglanthol 1 - The Legend of Khaalindaan - 2. Chapter 2

Magath showed Qildor to the stable. A skinny mare stood inside. Qildor removed the saddlebags, and then helped Magath attend to the horses. They didn’t exchange a word. Finally, Magath showed Qildor to his small house. He opened the door, made a gesture with his hand, and then entered the house. Qildor followed him. He looked around in the single room that was Magath’s living-room and equally his bedroom.

Magath moved to the fireplace and fanned the flames. Qildor put his saddlebags on the floor. Magath turned to him. He was dressed in a thick and roughly woven cloak, a scarf and a fur cap, and he made no move to take off his clothes. Qildor hesitated for a moment, and then he took off his cloak with the royal emblems and the thick yet elegant hat.

“You don’t look much like a soldier,” Magath said. He sounded almost rude.

Qildor looked at him.

“I travelled incognito,” he replied. “I’m going to check if everything is all right. I’m talking about the Khalindash.”

“Sure,” Magath said. “They burned down a small farmhouse a couple of days ago. Killed the man and his wife and abducted the children. Everything’s fine, sure.”

Magath finally took off his cap. Long blond hair fell down on his shoulders. Qildor watched him curiously.

“This is why I came here,” Qildor said. “I’m seeking out men who will watch out and guard the frontiers.”

Magath gave a brief laugh.

“You won’t find too many. This area is thinly populated. The few men living here cannot neglect their duties,” he said.

“The king will pay for their service,” Qildor said in a dry voice. “They will earn much more than they would if they kept to farming.”

Magath laughed aloud. He shook his head in obvious amusement.

“Who will do the farming then? Do you want us to starve? The crops are usually bad. We barely outlive the winter anyway,” he said forcefully.

He shot Qildor an angry look.

“And with the Khalindash attacking our fields and villages it won’t get any better,” he added.

“We’ll drive them out of the country,” Qildor said.

“Three or four farmers won’t complete this task,” Magath said angrily.

“Certainly not,” Qildor said in a compliant tone. The man was obviously bitter or perhaps just fond of arguing. Or maybe he was a loner who hated strangers and in particular royal messengers.

Qildor lost interest in Magath’s musings. He yawned and did not hide his yawn.

“Time to rest, I guess,” Qildor said, looking around in the room.

He spotted Magath’s bed and decided to sleep far away from it.

‘He might talk in his sleep,’ Qildor thought. ‘Better he does not disturb mine.”

Qildor took a blanket from his bag, unfolded it and placed it on the floor. Magath just stood and watched him. Finally, he took off his cloak and scarf, and then moved to a wooden backdoor.

“The pit latrine is on the back of the house,” he said, before he left the house.

Qildor looked after him, and then continued preparing his bed. When Magath returned, he stepped out as well. When he came back, Magath had already stretched on his bed. He had covered himself with his cloak. Qildor also lay down. He was tired and almost immediately drifted to sleep.

Qildor awoke at dawn. Being a soldier, he was wide awake instantly. He rose to his feet quickly. The faint morning light fell through the single window, yet hardly illuminated the room. The windowpane was thick and also dirty. Qildor peered into the darkness and listened attentively.

The backdoor opened suddenly. Magath entered the house with an oil lamp in his hands. He looked at Qildor briefly and then turned away and ignored him. Qildor left the house also. When he returned, the house was filled with choking smoke. Qildor coughed and opened the doors of the house.

“Good man, are you burning down the house?” he asked in annoyance.

“Just starting the fire,” Magath said. He stood in front of the fireplace and fanned the flames.

“The chimney draws badly,” Qildor said.

Magath shrugged.

“It did not draw badly yesterday,” he replied.

Qildor took a deep breath.

“So why don’t you climb the roof and check the chimney?” he asked in an unnerved voice.

Magath shrugged. Qildor lost patience. He turned to his bed abruptly and started to pack. ‘I better leave now,’ he thought. He took his saddlebags and turned to Magath to say goodbye. Qildor almost dropped the bags at the look that Magath cast him. They gazed at each other. Their looks were grim and unkind. Finally, Magath lowered his eyes. This sign of surrender without a fight made Qildor inwardly cringe. It also touched something deep inside of him. Qildor winced. The feeling was rare and yet familiar. He hated to feel the feeling again. He hated to realize that he felt attracted to the man. Qildor looked at Magath and took in his features. ‘Why him? Why a peasant?’ he thought. He almost spoke the words aloud.

Magath raised his eyes. He looked at Qildor briefly and then turned his eyes away. He moved to the backdoor. Qildor was hesitating, but then he made a step forward.

“Wait,” he called out when Magath’s hand touched the doorknob.

Magath stopped within the movement, yet did not turn back to Qildor. Qildor crossed the room. He stood right behind Magath. Magath did not turn. But Qildor could see that Magath was tensed.

“I’m visiting a few villages today,” Qildor said.

Magath did not react.

“Seeking out men,” Qildor added.

Magath nodded slightly.

“I’m coming back tonight,” Qildor said. His voice was rough. He gazed ahead, waiting.

A few seconds passed. And then Magath nodded.

“All right. I’ll be here,” Magath said without turning to Qildor. His voice was low and brittle.

The words were lingering in the air and with them an unsaid promise.

“I’ll be back tonight,” Qildor said. His voice was pressed.

Magath gave another brief nod. Qildor nodded as well, although Magath still looked ahead and did not see him. Qildor turned abruptly and left the house.

Outside he stopped and took a deep breath before he headed to the stable. A voice in his head called him a fool and promised his infallible ruin. Qildor bit his lip. He mounted his horse and forcefully rode out of the village.

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