The White Horse

[Nurumaiel]

Culoth found her mind drifting away from the noises of the inn and going back to her little home with her parents and younger brothers. She could see the boys playing in front of the house, her mother sitting on the doorstep, watching them as she patched up the clothes from their latest adventure, and her father saddling up his horse to go riding. Firramer and Permacar were standing there, holding the reins of their horses, waiting for her father.

She came back to the inn and saw that Firramer had rejoined her, mug of ale in his hand. He seemed to be somewhere else, as well.

"Can you tell the story now, Firramer?" she asked, and he turned to her with a start.

"Not now, lass," he said. "I told you I couldn't until someone asked me. Someone other than yourself. But I can tell you a different tale, if you like."

"Oh yes, please," Culoth begged.

"After I finish my ale." And he set to work on doing that. Culoth could see the eager light in his eyes that meant one thing... he was ready to tell a tale.