* Bird winged over to Gandalf, who was sleeping under his hat. Grasping the fabric in her beak, she tugged its grey point with a fluttering of wings. * Awake! Volondil tends a swooned stranger! * Bird tarried no longer, but scuttled off as fast as a free-flung gale-driven leaf intent on catching onto a low branch from which to appraise the lay of the land before finally joining it below. *
* Gandalf groggily pulled himself up amid a startled half-snore. Not quite knowing what the situation called for, he grabbed both sword and staff, and lit this last into a soft yellow glow. Having slept in his clothes, his most important pouches remained slung from his belt. *
* Coming up on Volondil and the stranger at a brisk stride, Gandalf overheard the stranger's speech, and nodded a general greeting. * You did well to call me, Volondil. * Tossing his sword within light of the campfire and standing his still-lit staff upright into the ground, Gandalf removed a small silver decanter from a weather-stained pouch and shook the decanter with a slight muttering frown. * Only a few drops of miruvor left, barely half a mouthful. * The wizard placed the potion against the lips of the prone man on the ground. * Drink this. What is your name?
* The man groaned after draining the decanter of the last of its miruvor, but with strengthened, clearer voice. * Thank you. Mat ... Mat Rushlight, of Bree. Must get far away, before they change their minds. * Mat propped himself up on his elbows as if to rise and flee, but Volondil's gentle hand on the gaunt man's chest eased him back down. *
* Gandalf put away the dry decanter, walked over to pick up his sword, and returned, placing the sword within Mat's easy reach. * You'll need a weapon, should you be bent on leaving. Eat first, take some refreshment, then decide your course. * Placing a handful of grapes into a small kettle, Gandalf mashed them, covered them with water, and set it to boil with a hint of maple sugar. Serving the resulting brew to Mat with a bit of bread, they sat in restorative silence for a time. *
* Mat told what he would of his tale, about the wagon surrounded by Orcs, the dungeon in the Castle, the deaths of his kin Wayne, Wes, and Brooke. The unspeakably worse loss of Linea and Edwina, chilling pale figures clutching towards them. The surprising opening of his cell. Gandalf made a point of asking Mat to describe the location of the dungeon. * Up, * had come the reply. At last Mat's words slurred to a stop and his eyes fell closed in sleep, but not before he'd gripped the hilt of the nearby sword, and kept it tucked safe in his balled hand. *
* Gandalf pulled out Andreth's book and flipped through it cover to cover before heaving a sigh of consternation. * Why there's not a single mention of a dungeon in the whole book! But then, several pages are missing. There is, however, half a page here entitled 'Treasury.' * Gandalf read aloud: *
To best defend from thievery,
an armed door-warden stands
without,
to let you in.
To let you out
with open hands
your honesty,
within.
* The wizard then shut the book so hard it boomed. *
* Unable this once to conceal her curiosity, Bird let out an aggrieved * That's all?
* Gandalf nodded, lost in thought, as he picked himself up to trundle back to his bedroll. * A riddle, Bird.
[ January 21, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]
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