Lindsay
Schopfer

By Lindsay Schopfer

Keltin watched the last star in the sky fade into the hazy light of false dawn. Paulsen snored nearby on Keltin’s sleeping mat, but Keltin hesitated to wake him. The banker had tossed and turned most of the night, though the lawns of Duke Gregson’s estate felt like a down-filled mattress compared to the forest floors that Keltin usually made camp on.

Other hunters were beginning to stir themselves in the small village of tents. The Loopi were all already up and packing their equipment. Keltin watched them curiously. There were four of them altogether. Grel’zi’tael, the Sky Talker, was obviously the group’s eldest member as the other three Loopi respectfully assisted him in gathering up the dried rushes that he had slept upon. Keltin had never known much about the Loopi people or their Sky Talkers. He’d heard stories as a child that they had the power to speak with the wind and choose when and where the rains would fall. Looking at the silver-haired Loopi in the half-light of morning, he could easily believe it.

Keltin turned at the sound of footsteps. One of Evik’s gypsies in a button-festooned vest and pale yellow shirt gave him a friendly smile.

“Ah, you’re up already. Good. Baron Rumsfeld asked us to make sure each of you knew that he had arrived a few minutes ago.”

“Thank you, I’ll be along shortly.”

The gypsy nodded and moved on as Paulsen groaned and rolled over.

“What time is it?” he muttered.

“Not yet dawn. They’re waking up the hunters who will be going with the Baron.”

Paulsen sighed and sat up. “I suppose I’d better get up too. You’ll be needing this sleeping mat.”

The banker stood up and stretched, trying uselessly to smooth out the wrinkles in his suit as Keltin rolled the sleeping mat and tied it to his pack.

“Do you think the duke would be gracious enough to offer us any breakfast?” asked Paulsen.

Keltin shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt to ask, but I wouldn’t expect it.”

Keltin was pleasantly surprised as they went around to the gardens in back and found several gypsies handing out bowls of steaming porridge. The gypsy in the button vest brought two bowls to Keltin and Paulsen.

“It’s not elegant, but it’s hot and filling,” he said with a smile.

Keltin couldn’t help smiling back. The man had a shock of golden hair and twinkling blue eyes that seemed to contain some mirth only he knew of. Keltin thanked the gypsy for the porridge as the man retrieved more bowls to distribute. Keltin ate and watched the gypsy curiously as he approached the hunter in furs who had spoken so much the night before.