Chapter 59: Precisely Because It's You
“So what, York? You’re suggesting we go to Alvado, that place controlled by Icelandic soldiers and necromancers, risking our lives to find some artifact you mentioned?” Lucas said.
“York is merely offering another option,” Old York said. “York has concealed nothing from you. If you’re willing to retrieve the Mist Stone, York will explain everything about Casimodo Vic.”
“About that necromancer’s school, his spells, how to evade his spies—York will tell you everything,” Old York continued. “York will analyze his weaknesses from a necromancer’s perspective.”
“What good would that do?” Lucas clutched his head. “That’s a fifth circle necromancer, a mage comparable to Gold-rank. We’d just be marching to our deaths.”
“And what about those Icelandic warriors? Their scouts, generals, and soldiers? You think there aren’t any professional warriors among them?”
“The choice is yours,” Old York said. “If you won’t seek the Mist Stone, then hide in this cave. York has stored some provisions here—enough for a hundred people to last perhaps ten more days.”
“We can sit together making wishes—wishing the Icelanders leave within ten days, wishing this war ends in ten days.”
After a long silence, Bardel broke the quiet: “If we get the Mist Stone, can we summon the fog immediately?”
“You must bring it back to York,” York said. “Only York knows how to use it. Among everyone here, only York can activate it.”
“So if we go to Alvado, you’ll come with us?” Bardel asked.
“York cannot go!” York suddenly trembled. “Casimodo would find York! He recognizes York!”
“During this year’s Planting Moon, York received an envelope delivered by an owl. York didn’t know who sent it then—the letter simply said ‘Looking forward to meeting you again!'”
“Only five days ago did York realize—that letter was from Casimodo! By then he’d already joined the Icelandic army, preparing to invade Tania this winter!”
“Casimodo knows what York looks like. He knows York’s a gnome, remembers York’s face. He ordered those Icelanders to capture York! If York goes where Casimodo is, York will be found immediately!”
“He’ll torment York’s soul! Send York to hell!”
Old York’s teeth chattered as his fingers dug into the stone table.
Anyone could see the gnome’s terror—facing Casimodo seemed worse than death to him.
“Weren’t you exchanging letters with that necromancer for three years?” Lucas said coldly. “Those Icelanders clearly wanted to take you alive. Seems to me the necromancer just wants to be friends, recruit you as an assistant.”
“That’s different!” Old York protested.
“You distrust the necromancer who wrote to you? Even though you both study necromancy?” Lucas pressed. “Why should we risk our lives going to Alvado for your Mist Stone, you cowardly gnome? You won’t even come with us!”
“Porter, you’re right. York is a cowardly gnome.” Old York hung his head. “York fears Casimodo. York cannot trust that evil man who killed his own mentor and slaughtered all of Alvado.”
“But Porter, York is willing to trust you.” Old York looked up. “York has met many people. Among them all, Porter, you’re one of the few Old York is willing to believe in.”
“Precisely because it’s you, Porter, that York dared share these secrets.”
Lucas gazed at the dejected gnome and sighed deeply.
He glanced at the wandering knight beside him, then at Uncle Bardel.
This time he didn’t seek the knight’s opinion, simply saying, “Let’s think it over, Old York. I can’t decide yet.”
“Understand—if you won’t go, only Sir Wade and I could handle the Icelanders.”
“Though I remember where your alchemy workshop is, this is madness. I’m just an unknown Iron-rank warrior. Sir Wade is far mightier and braver, but with just the two of us… frankly, we’d be walking to our deaths.”
“We’ve no right to ask Sir Wade to die with us.”
York produced a key: “York understands, Porter. Whatever you choose, York won’t complain. York will stay with you till the end.”
“The provisions are in the second room to the right past the study—wheat, flour, seasonings, honey, butter, cheese, and sugar.”
“There’s an oven there too. York baked some bread last night. Take what you need. If anyone’s willing, you could cook something to lift spirits.”
Lucas sighed again, seemingly at a loss for how to face the gnome.
Yet he took the keys, murmuring, “Anyway… thank you for sheltering us in your warehouse. And for the food.”
York said, “We’re all born in Tania. Should help each other.”
Lucas stood and reached the door. Back turned to the gnome, he suddenly asked, “York… can I trust you?”
“That’s your choice, Porter,” the gnome said. “But York has hidden nothing more.”
Lucas left without reply, presumably to inspect the provisions.
On the bright side—at least they could last a little longer.
Only the gnome, Wade, and Bardel remained in the study.
After Lucas left, Bardel bowed slightly to Wade and exited.
The gnome sat alone with bowed head as Wade took the seat beside him.
“Not leaving?” the gnome asked.
Wade shook his head, writing on paper:
“Please tell me about Casimodo Vic, about that necromancer.”
“And the Mist Stone—please sketch its appearance.”
The gnome stared stunned at the writing before looking up dazedly.
Wade performed another greeting gesture—this time moving his hand from left shoulder to chest, standing with a slight bow.
In Nidran, only old friends of many years exchanged such greetings.
For some reason, the aged gnome looked up at the knight, a tear tracing down his cheek.