《The Rícewelig Crown》Chapter Eighteen

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Tadhgán lurched into Éaggemeare at mid-day, covered in blood, most of it his own, then passed out. Weard, Hrolf, and Hoff carriedTadhgán to Hoff’s hut.

It was night by the time Tadhgán could talk. The three men huddled around the meagre fire.

“Our first evening, me and Arnwald sat, chatting by the fire,” Tadhgán coughed. “We didn’t see the monster until it was too late.”

“Here” said Hrolf, passing Tadhgán a cup of watered brandy.

“Thanks.” Tadhgán took a large gulp.

“Thank Hoff, it’s his secret stash,” said Hrolf.

“Never mind that, lad,” said Hoff, “finish your story while you can. It’s bad to let these things hang over you.”

Tadhgán nodded and spoke about his encounter.

Weard considered Arnwald’s death – is it bad I’m happy he’s dead?

“I stayed up all night, clinging to a branch. I was really woozy by then, I half-fell, half-climbed down my tree. Our camp was trashed. Everything was crushed: food, water, even my pan. I left it all behind and walked back here. Kept my bow though.”

“Damn, you're lucky,” said Weard.

“Doesn’t feel that way.” Tadhgán drew his blanket around himself, twitching.

“I’m glad you made it back,” said Hrolf.

“Almost wish I hadn’t,” said Tadhgán. “Arnwald was a good friend, even if he was a nutter. Every time I close my eyes, I see big teeth. After that, I feel glad it wasn’t me, then I feel guilty.”

“If you're scared, you should wash more,” said Weard. “Soap burns and tastes rancid, nothing will want to eat you.”

“I don’t want to know how you found that out,” said Tadhgán. He drank more brandy.

“I went through my dad’s things when he died, thinking he’d been hoarding fancy cheese. I discovered it was lavender soap far, far too late.”

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“You’re a terrible liar,” said Tadhgán, “but thanks for trying to cheer me up.”

“Don’t dismiss my revelation so quickly,” said Weard. “Through great personal sacrifice, I furthered humanity’s development with my insight: no matter how good it looks and smells, soap, is not food.”

Tadhgán finally smiled.

Hrolf faced Hoff, “What do you think of the monster?”

“I think I should move house,” said Hoff.

“This whole kingdom is riddled with the weird and wonderful,” said Weard. “I don’t think it matters where you live, weird will always find you.”

“If it comes here we can’t do anything against a creature like that,” said Hoff. “I’m bloody terrified.”

Hrolf scratched his red beard, “Your village has patrols and barricades. It’ll do.”

“Rather have a couple hundred soldiers,” said Tadhgán, “but even if we were in one piece, there’s no getting to Éabrycg right now.”

Hoff grunted, “We need help.”

“Once we are healed, we’ll help,” said Weard.

“Monsters near our homes, our buildings burn, and every time I stir an iron pot I’m as likely to burn the food as the pot is to explode,” said Hoff. “An army won’t solve anything.”

“You could hide,” said Tadhgán.

“Or run,” said Hrolf.

“Depends how fat you are,” said Weard.

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