Chapter 22 - The Council of Seven
Hal woke up alone.
Nothing new there.
He was wrapped heavily in animal skins and furs, providing an extremely comfortable warmth that had been lacking in recent days. The room he was in was quite small but high ceilinged. The small fireplace in one corner still flickered lightly though it had not been stoked in hours.
There was a second bunk to his right, it too was piled high with furs. Just barely poking out from the coverings was the chapped, frost-bitten face of Ceorn. For one absolutely frightful moment, Hal would have sworn the kelt was dead. But then he saw the subtle rising and falling of the coverings and breathed a small sigh of relief.
"I gotta stop doin' this," the big man croaked out. He tried to sit up in bed, but as the blankets began to slide away some very chilly air touched the bare flesh of his torso. Hal dropped back into the blankets and reveled in their warmth, in no way ready to re-enter the cold.
Something about that last moment's actions stuck out in Hal's mind as being rather odd. For a brief second, he wasn't sure what it was. Then, after a quick but thorough inspection, Hal noticed that he was stark naked beneath the covers.
Great. Naked.
Unnecessarily, he became embarrassed. Even with no one around to notice - and even if there was they wouldn't be able to tell seeing as how he was under the blankets. He realized how foolish the feeling was in the back of his mind.
Just … someone had to undress me.
Swiftly, Hal's eyes scanned the room, searching for his clothes or at the very least his gear pack. But then he gazed thankfully down on the small bureau between his bunk and the kelt's. Laying upon it beside Ceorn's kilt and heavy sweater, were a large pair of heavy woolen slacks and shirt from Hal's pack. He sighed in relief.
Cautiously, Hal snaked one hand out from beneath his blankets and snatched his clothes, bringing them under the covers. They were cool to the touch at first but quickly warmed up. Once they were ready, Hal clumsily managed to slip them on without tearing them to shreds. Once done, Hal braced himself and slid out from beneath the blankets and into the cool air.
It was a bit of a shock at first, his flesh became all tingly with gooseflesh and his hair wanted to stand on end. But after a few moments he got used to it and got over it.
Over near the fireplace was Hal's pack. He took a long look at the distance between himself and the pack and decided to risk it. Taking a deep breath, Hal scampered across the freezing wooden floor in his bare feet and snatched up his pack. He all but dove for the safety of his bunk, anything to get his feet warm again. Sitting cross-legged on his bunk, he frantically rummaged around in his pack. With a slight smile, Hal triumphantly pulled out a thick pair of woolen socks and yanked them on. He sighed with relief at the warmth that trailed up his legs from the fire-warmed socks.
Within moments, Hal had donned a pair of black denim pants, strapped on his surprisingly dry hiking boots and was walking comfortably about the room. Tension in his muscles rang along his nervous system like a hammer on an anvil with every step. But he ignored the pain. He was awake now and there were things that probably needed to be done.
There was a large washbasin filled with water atop a nearby dresser as well as a large, fluffy towel and mirror. Hal broke a thin layer of ice and set about scrubbing at his face with the very chilly water. After a few shocking moments, he scooped up the towel and frantically began to pat himself dry.
Peering at his reflection in the slightly warped mirror, Hal noted with no surprise that his hair was back in it's familiar haystack position with strands and tufts pointing out in every direction. He sighed and ran his fingers over his slightly stubbly face. He frowned then, knowing that he hadn't shaved since leaving Southmoor and that he had been sporting a rather ugly beard for the last few days. Needless to say, he was surprised that someone would actually take the time to shave him. Then he was rather jealous, for the person who'd done the shaving did a remarkably better job of it than Hal was capable of doing for himself.
He was about to turn away from the mirror when he noted the hairbrush that was laying down on the table. He looked at his regular morning style and, for the first time, saw that it could have something better done with it. And so, clumsily, Hal picked up the brush, dipped it into the water and began to comb out his shoulder length hair.
By the time it was reasonably straight he was almost in tears from all of the knots that he'd pulled through. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," he muttered.
Turning away from the mirror Hal was startled to see a monstrous creature step into the room.
Both he and the creature jumped back in surprise with a choked scream.
Ceorn muttered something unintelligible and shifted slightly on his bunk.
His hand clutched at his chest, Hal forced his eyes to come into focus . Upon closer inspection, he recognized it to be a dark-furred wemic dressed in a light colored cloak. And she appeared to be just as shocked to see him as he was of her (at least, Hal assumed it was female going by the longer mane and the more, er... feminine appearing torso).
"Good day," the wemic said in a lilting tenor. "I am Shonarr, Younger Cleric of the Clawra Pride. You are the one called Hal, are you not?" Hal nodded affirmatively. "I thought as much. How do you feel?"
Hal shrugged and felt the twinge of pain from more muscles. "Not too bad, a bit sore is all." The wemic came over to him then, poking and prodding and doing clerical sorts of things. He silently put up with it, knowing better from experience with Garn and Renora than to argue. He grinned wryly. "So, how long was I out this time?"
Shonarr glanced at him curiously. Hal repeated his question and she smiled. "I see now. Forgive me, I have only recently learned your tongue and am still having trouble with some of the terms."
Hal nodded with a smile. "Great. So how long?"
Shonarr laughed. "Of course. Surprisingly, just over twenty-four hours," Hal breathed a sigh of relief, fearing that it had been longer. "We had expected that you would be out at least for as long as your friend," she gestured over to Ceorn then. "Hypothermia is usually very difficult to fight off. Are you sure that you're all right?"
Hal took the question more seriously this time, almost slipping into a meditative trance as he inwardly felt at his extremities. Then he consciously flexed each of his muscles in turn to make certain that they all still worked. After doing that he shrugged again. "Aside from bein' a bit weary, I seem to be all right."
She looked at him a bit questioningly for a moment or two longer then let it drop. "Well, I'm going to keep my eye on you just in case." Shonarr turned away and went over to check on the kelt.
Finding a spare strap of leather in his pack, Hal tied back his hair into a loose ponytail to keep it out of his face. After that, he picked up both his axe and the sword Stormbringer, just to make sure that they were still useable and rust free. That done he turned to Shonarr and spoke. "Where are the others?"
She looked up from her work with a grim expression on her face. "Your friend, the mage?" Hal nodded. Shonarr sighed heavily. "He's in critical condition right now. The hypothermia hit him very hard and has left him nearly comatose. He just isn't physically healthy enough to be straining himself the way he has been on your travels." She cut off Hal's next question with a raised hand."I don't know if he'll be all right, but we are doing everything that we can."
Hal was silent for a long moment. The thought of Garn not getting better left him feeling hollow on the inside. He and the mage had their differences, but Garn was his friend!
"What about the others?" he asked frantically, suddenly needing to know.
She gestured faintly off in one direction. "They're with the Council of Seven, pleading their case and asking for permission to ascend the mountain."
Hal was immediately relieved. "How is it going? With the Council, I mean?"
Shonarr shrugged. " On one side, The Council understands their need but on the other they are re
luctant to trust anyone to get too near the Book. No one has been given permission in an Age."
The big man nodded. Then, he stood up and strapped on his weapons belt. The cleric gave him an odd look. Then she trotted over and stood between him and his cloak which he had been reaching for. "Where do you think you're going?" she asked.
"To help my friends," he said simply. "Which way to the Council Chamber?"
"You're not going... "
Hal cut her off with a frustrated look and a surprisingly sharp tone of voice. "Look! I've been little more than a burden on this trip. Now, I won't be able to partici... help out with the talk. But I can be there. Let them know that I'm all right if nothing else."
Shonarr had no return comment for that.
Gently, Hal moved her aside and retrieved his cloak, settling it over his shoulders. "Now, you can tell me where to find the Council of Seven or you can lead me there. It's your choice, just please make it quickly."