The Cursed Blood, стр. 57
“No matter, no matter,” he giggled and waved in an almost girlish way, a huge ruby ring flashing from his pinky in the candlelight as he afforded us a beaming smile over the rim of a shiny pair of golden crescent moon shaped spectacles. “Why, my stars, I’ve never HEARD you so nostalgic, Artur, you old butcher you. It’s an absolute delight. This dismal Council thingy is already going off far better than I had ever hoped. I’m all giddy and a-tingle with the excitement of it!”
He paused then seemed to catch sight of me for the first time. “And who is this?” He pointed at me with his little walking stick topped with a carved ivory grasshopper and gave me the most welcoming look I’ve yet to get from Fey or mundane, man or woman. Though an ancient dragon once matched it but I can’t say that it was meant to be welcoming. When HE smiled at me, he was quite hungry at the time after all.
“This is young Benjamin Bright, my Grandson,” Gramps introduced me proudly and the tiny Witch sparkled with interest as he giggled and slipped through the curtain, Parting it with his walking stick and stepping up and onto his tip toes to give me a tiny, well-manicured but impossibly strong hand to shake.
“A pleasure, Master Benjamin. I must say I’ve heard simply wonderful things about you, and some incredibly sad things. I’m sorry for your loss.” He looked so sad and sincere that I honestly didn’t know what to say but a mumbled thank you as I shook his hand.
“Oh, Fazool darling, you’re here!” Aunt Milly rushed franticly in and through the dining area, all but shoving diners and serving girls aside and swooped down to kiss the delighted salt and pepper wavy haired halfling on each of his rosy cheeks. “Oh, please tell me you’ve come early to swoop in rescue me from this dismal company and off to more cultured and refined things, pretty, pretty please?”
“Delighted darling, simply charmed and delighted.” Fazool blushingly giggled as he kissed her gloved hand and the two shared a laugh like old clucking hens. “I don’t know though, Milly, your brother-in-law was just regaling us all with the most delightful, exciting, and wonderfully engaging stories. I’ve never heard the likes. I’m simply mesmerized and enthralled!”
“Was he now?” Aunt Milly asked sternly as she eyed us both. “Not regaling my nephew about your bawdy adventures here at the Rovers Rest before it was a reputable and honest establishment, are you?” At this Gramps gave her a mockingly innocent look that she pointedly ignored.
The animated little Witch giggled happily. “Oh, I used to know a delightfully explorative lady of the evening who had a room hear ages ago who for just a few copper gibbons and a stiff drink, preferably rum, would show you this simply amazingly life affirming trick where she would-” Fazool trailed off as my aunt leveled a long suffering and pained look at him, then glanced at me meaningfully.
“Oh dear, please excuse my enthusiasm. Suddenly I’m all a flutter with old memories and feelings I’ve not had since I was just a little Halfling…” He flushed scarlet and shook his head bashfully and giggled. “The eccentricity of a mind younger than the body, I’m afraid.”
“Well, a good bottle of wine, the 1286 Moonberry if they have it, will definitely cure you of that, you poor thing. If not, they are sure to have a 1312,” Aunt Milly fawned, and all but dragged the giddy Halfling to the bar where Mac, ever on point when it came to service and coin, was already deftly uncorking a bottle from the vast collection behind the bar. Though this one came from well beneath it and looked outrageously expensive, which was probably why he was beaming with joy at the approaching Witches.
“Oh, yes, Moonberry, my favorite. You naughty thing, you remembered! And, while we drink we can discuss the incredible new piece of art I procured from Istanbul as we nibble at a good cheese tray then a nice smoke. I’ve got with me the most life changing leaf, you know.” Aunt Milly beamed and the two again started giggling like schoolgirls as they scurried off to appease their refined tastes, leaving Gramps shaking his head and smiling in amusement.
“Two of the most powerful Witches ever to live and the both of them care more for pipe leaf, fine cigars, kindness, poetry, fine dining, obscure art, and designer shoes.” He watched them wistfully. “Though the world would be a better place if more thought like them.”
“How?” I asked curiously.
“Imagine if all of the most powerful beings on the planet cared more about making it more beautiful and happier instead of garnering power, buying oil fields, religious dogma, and squirreling away heaps of gold?” Gramps sighed. “The two of them could turn half the town to cinders in the blink of an eye with a thought and all they want after is a conversation, a shared meal, and kind words.”
I didn’t understand it then, but now I’m deeply grateful to have met the odd, flighty, charming little Halfling Witch. Over the years he became a good friend, advisor, and powerful ally. Though he never could get me to like Moonberry, regardless of the vintage, much to his deep frustration. I did, however, procure him a obscenely valuable bottle of the 765 that quite publicly and embarrassingly brought him to tears.
Unfortunately, he insisted we share it.
We gathered outside at dusk to await our carriage to the council meeting; I had wanted to bring Manx as I had a horrible uneasy feeling, but Gramps insisted it wasn’t protocol. So, the big Witchound was snuggled on my bed with a porterhouse and bowl of water while