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The Story Continues
Grimhelm clapped Meek on the shoulder and smiled back. "Off to the wars, or to do battle with forest outlaws? No, my lad. Nothing so grand. We're off to keep a promise made by our good king. Only a small promise, I'm told, but our duty none the less.?
Together they walked through the noisy courtyard, amid the farewells of the squires and milkmaids, urging chickens and dogs out of their way. Soon they were mounted and riding into the quiet countryside. Meek grew peaceful; the tall knight's quiet confidence gave him comfort. He needed assurance, especially from Grimhelm, and he always felt a sense of hope when Grimhelm spoke of solemn things like duties and promises and responsibilities.
"What kind of promise is it, my lord? And who made it?"
"The King made a promise to the mighty sorcerer Lifwin. I was not told what it was, or what we are to do. Kings enjoy secrets, you know."
They rode in silence for a while, Grimhelm enjoying the bright morning and Meek indulging in his favorite activity, daydreaming.
"Lifwin the Mighty! Perhaps his great magic can make you a knight."
"No." Meek sighed, disagreeing with himself. "Knights are made not by magic but by deeds." He scolded himself turned to the matter at hand. He did not share with Grimhelm his most comforting thought, that if this task were either important or dangerous, the king would have sent someone else riding with Grimhelm. But sorcerers and secret promises and a lingering doubt about the doings of kings haunted him, even as they rode through the sunshine to the edge of a great forest.
A path lay wide and open and inviting. And Grimhelm led the way into the pleasant shadows. Birds sang, a brook bubbled nearby, and rabbits hopped on the lush, green grass. Through a cleaning they saw a cozy cottage, shaded by tall trees. It was very small and painted lemon- yellow. Meek noticed the chimney leaned a little and the doorsill wasn't quite straight. Grimhelm dismounted and knocked at the little door as Meek sat on his small horse and thought to himself this was a strange place to meet a wizard.
"Of course," he said to himself, "anyplace is a strange place to meet a wizard if you've never met one."
He slid clumsily off his horse and stood beside his knight, feeling very small and wishing he were back at the castle making cat's cradles for the village children. Suddenly the door opened, and they saw Lifwin, wondrous wizard and most magical magician.
He was tall and as thin as an arrow; he had a grey beard and wore robes of blue and black. The hat on his head was a proper sorcerer's hat, tall and peaked and covered with strange, curved writings. What did surprise Meek were Lifwin's twinkling brown eyes and merry smile.
"Come in, my friends. Come and rest and take some lunch with me. We will talk of your journey to the west after you have supped."
They sat at a rough table set with cold lark pie, fruit, bread, and milk. Meek decided that breakfast was much too far away to sustain him through the journey, and lunch would do the job nicely. So he sat and filled his plate and was soon munching happily.
But Grimhelm did not turn his focus. "What is the promise that was made, my lord?"
Lifwin brushed crumbs from his robe as he replied quietly, "That you will kill Grenfendel." He seemed unaware of the silence that followed his words.
Meek stopped munching and sat, an apple in his hand and juice on his chin.
"Grenfendel? The beast in the Baelwood who devours men and their armor and even their bones?" Even the mighty Grimhelm grew pale as he recalled the tales of horror and fire and darkness.
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