Haldryn offered no further explanation.
Peter's temper only rose at the silence. "Always the same foolish self-importance! I thought falling out of that tree might have taught you something!"
He slammed his palm on the table. "Go, then. One less rice-bucket at the table is no loss!"
He rose and left. Elle followed at once. Moments later raised voices carried from outside; Aunt hurried out to mediate, and the argument became a three-way storm that set the whole household on edge.
Haldryn sighed, lost all appetite, and returned to his room.
Once he had settled his thoughts he climbed out the window with the diluted tonics and went looking for customers.
His decision was firm. Earn the gold for Verigan's Fist as quickly as possible, then enlist as a field medic.
On the street he approached a man whose hairline was beginning to recede.
"Sir, would you be interested in a hair-growth tonic? Only two Rune coins."
"Two Rune coins?" The man looked startled. "You're certain it works?"
"Absolutely. I swear it on Cul's beard."
The All-Father's power was rooted in Asgard itself. An oath sworn in his name was something Cul could sense. For an Asgardian such a vow carried the weight of a written contract.
Haldryn had never dared make it to Taylor before he knew the tonic's effect; an unfulfilled oath would have been disastrous.
The man's remaining doubt largely vanished. "It will restore all of my hair?"
Haldryn glanced again at the mild thinning. "I believe so. Two bottles at most."
"All right. I'll take two." After a moment's thought the man paid four Rune coins.
At two Rune coins per bottle the price remained highly attractive even if some customers needed several doses. Men who normally paid no attention to their hair were at least willing to consider it.
By midday all twelve bottles were gone and twenty-four Rune coins sat in Haldryn's pouch.
Twenty-four Rune coins was no small sum. It was a clear step toward the hammer. The earlier unpleasantness at breakfast evaporated completely.
He went to the Brave Hunter Tavern, ordered meat, converted two of the Rune coins into gold, and found an unnoticed corner in which to donate everything to the Tome.
There was no real need for secrecy. Asgard was full of strange powers; anyone watching him push gold into a blank book would simply assume it was some sort of spatial container. Only he could see the writing.
Two hundred large gold coins brought his Piety balance to a comfortable [202.74]. Instant wealth.
He immediately bought a large number of Gifts of Fate.
[Obtained: Thank You for Your Patronage]
[Obtained: 0.37 Piety]
[Obtained: Judgment (Fragment)]
[Obtained: Thank You for Your Patronage]
[Obtained: Blacksmithing Plans: Training Sword]
[Obtained: Thank You for Your Patronage]
[Obtained: Sword of Justice (Fragment)]
[Obtained: Book of Trials: Stone-Tusk Boar]
Most of the results barely registered. Only the Book of Trials drew real interest.
[Book of Trials: Stone-Tusk Boar]
Trial Rank: 1
Victory Reward: Small amount of Piety, chance of merchandise
Description: Enter the Trial Space and battle the Stone-Tusk Boar. Victory yields rewards; defeat carries no penalty (except loss of any spell fragments used). Upon victory this Book of Trials disappears…]
Rank 1?
Worth a look.
He entered.
The Trial Space was an open field that looked like an abandoned farm. The boar stood only a short distance away.
It snorted and charged the moment he appeared.
Haldryn braced both hands and simply stopped it. A rank-1 creature had neither strength nor technique. He threw it down, drove a kick into the back of its neck, and it burst into smoke.
A single page floated to the ground.
Obtained: [1.01 Piety]
Disappointing.
He left the Trial Space and continued buying Gifts of Fate.
[Obtained: Thank You for Your Patronage]
[Obtained: Thank You for Your Patronage]
.
.
.
[Obtained: Standard Spatial Slot]
A spatial slot!
[Standard Spatial Slot: One cubic decimeter of storage space. Cannot hold special items…]
Practical. Extremely practical.
Like every other purchase from the Tome, the slot existed as a page. Haldryn dropped a gold coin onto it; the coin flashed and imprinted itself on the surface. When he reached in, his hand passed through the page as though through water and retrieved the coin again.
Convenient—though one cubic decimeter was tiny. It could hold small objects and nothing larger. A weapon would never fit.
"Tjalfe! I feel it—next time you'll finally catch a four-horned goat!"
Noise rose across the tavern. As Landveti's most famous unlucky hunter, Tjalfe never arrived without drawing a few shouts.
Haldryn closed the Tome and walked over. "Any Greenchou today?"
"None." Tjalfe shook his head.
Expected. Haldryn simply nodded.
After eating he returned home. Elle found him almost at once.
"Elle?"
She took his hand. "Haldryn, I know you don't get along with my father and would rather not stay near him… but becoming a field medic isn't something you should decide on impulse. I've never been to a battlefield, yet I know there is nothing entertaining about one."
"Sister." He shook his head. "I don't want to become a field medic simply to leave Uncle. That may be a small part of it, but it's secondary at best."
"Then why?" she asked. "Do you truly think war is interesting?"
"Of course not. If I thought war was interesting I would enlist as a warrior, or at least join the youth auxiliaries—not take a post that has no combat duties at all.
"I'm cautious. Perhaps… I simply want to know how far I still am from being a hero."
^^^
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