The Pit and the Kettle

Clopity-Clop. Clopity-Clop. Clopity-Clop. Clopity-Clop.

Clopity-Clop. Clopity-Clop. The squire had plenty of time to think. His eyes shifted, looking for obstacles in the road, or perhaps the stray bear, mountain panther, or wolf. He doubted that there would be any robbers on this lonely and barren trail. He allowed his mind to wander.

Clopity-clop.

He reckoned that he would be at the cave mouth any minute now. He needed to be prepared for anything. He remembered the scene at twilight. He was going to tie the horses up as night fell, and camp. He had already pitched a little tent, big enough for two men. Then the winds gusted, and a freak storm passed off in the distance. He was lucky that the storm missed him, but in the midst of it he saw the most unearthly light. It was as bright as lightning, but lasted much longer, and shimmered. It was as if the powers of heaven had intervened to send him a sign, until the light had mysteriously been extinguished as fast as it had been lit. He struck the tent, packed, and started to ride to the foothills of the Shreken.

Clopity-clop.

Galloping briskly down a rocky trail at night with two horses in tandem was not the most cautious thing to do, but there are times where one had to rely upon intuition. Something big had happened, and he was so close already. He had not pressed earlier in the day, so both he and the horses had a reserve of energy. He felt - he knew - that the horses had seen the mystery light, and here now charged with the same energy that he had.

Clopity-clop.

Of course, there were those who thought that Lord Fred's quest was a mad one. Single combat with the dragon. A suicide mission. But this squire was not amongst those. There was a certain logic to sending one man into the heart of the lair of the evil one. Lord Fred would enter with stealth, and surprise the creature, or so he had hoped. Although the squire yearned to be by Fred's side, he knew that he was not quite ready, and that on other days, the chance would come. He just wanted to do his part, and win the respect of Lord Fred by doing the little things right.

Clopity-clop. Clopity-clop.

A bead of sweat now expanded slightly, and started to run down the squire's forehead, into his left eye. He brushed aside a lock of hair. He had hoped for the best. He arranged for a large cart and three boys to be waiting for Fred and him at Mudspot. The cart would be handy in case there were great treasures to bring back. He would have brought the cart and the boys on this journey, but he wanted to make haste. If Lord Fred were hurt, he would need care. And it was very possible that he was hurt, even if, God grant, he had beaten the beast. The squire then allowed himself to imagine the great triumphal march from Mudspot to Suffex to Camelyn, hailing the heroic Fred. With the passing of the shadow of the dragon, the Great Kingdom of Allaria would have a freedom that he and his forefathers had never known.

Clopity-clop. Trot-trot-trot-trot.

The horses slowed as the trail wended into a switchback. They had slowly risen to a plateau. They were getting close. The ground was wet - the storm that he saw earlier in the evening had passed through here. He could see the first range of mountains ahead. The caves were close.

Progress seemed agonizingly slow now, but he knew better than to rush. He was so close. But patience, although not a virtue he would exercise in his dreams or have players exhibit on stage, like the virtue of raw physical courage, was important to his training as a knight of Allaria. It was time to use it.

His eyes scanned the scene. The caves were here somewhere. He then noticed something. Were there a camp here? He thought he noticed a large kettle. This was unlikely, unless the caves were not as deserted as they had appeared. The squire hesitated for a few seconds, and then gently prodded Fast Freddie and Sneaky Sam toward the object.

Mush. Mush. Mush. The horses' hooves cut into a patch of clayish soil.

He had an oilwood torch, and he lit it. It smoked, and it had a heavy smell, similar to kerosene, but it burned with enough light to see by. Yes, there was indeed a kettle. There was a little soup still there, in the bottom. The squire was afraid to taste it. And then a glint of something.

Fast Freddie and Sneaky Sam edged toward that something, as curious as their guardian.

The squire saw a pit full of cloudy water, but it was not lined with soil. He dismounted, and knelt. He stuck the oilwood torch about a quarter of the way in the mud. The water was cold, and the lining of the pit was solid, very cold, and shiny. This pit was artificial. Somebody had created it. But what did it mean?

The squire considered his options. Fred was not outside the caves, and cave entrance had to be very close. He had not been here when he accompanied Lord Fred the first time. He should peer into the cave, at least to provide shelter. If he could not find Fred, then he could pitch his tent and camp away from the clearing tonight. Who could tell whether those who had camped here were friendly or not?

The squire saw some footprints in the mud. It appeared that there were three or four men, judging from the various sizes. He imagined that they were those of three husky men, and a slightly smaller man, perhaps their lackey. The footprints led into the base of the nearest hill.

And then he saw the two cave entrances. Wasn't there only supposed to be one entrance? The squire thought about his options.

1. The squire entered the cave.
2. The squire stayed outside.
3. Meanwhile, at the spring inside the cave, Fred's party discusses the medallion.

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