The Last Satyr: The Company is Formed Part 1
A New Girl

The king prepared a savory feast of sizzling meats mixed with an aroma of spices. It was not served to their company but for all his men as well. Yet only the boy’s company sat at Grendel’s table, not even the king’s son, which the boy took to be a bad sign.

King Grendel fed them well, for he said this could be their last decent meal, and asked questions all around the table. At first, he asked questions of a friendly nature. He directed very few of his questions at the boys, even though he was most curious as to why they formed most of the company. He tried his mind instead first on the old keeper and Amien, until finding Amien knew little more than he. After a while, he changed the subject to the matter of their reaching and entering the mines, educating Amien on how to do it as much as possible.

After a while, his blue-eyed son rose from the next table, his face flushed with drink, rose unsteadily from his seat, and raised his cup.

“A toast to our young friends,” he slurred, swaying unsteadily, his cup of ale sloshing dangerously, “for whom we are expected to go out and die for in a useless cause for which there is no benefit. A toast to their company,” he burped, “and to all of us who do not come back on their account!”

King Grendel adamantly stood up immediately and raised his goblet.

“And I shall add to that!” he said, his voice commanding attention. “For in this company we have a chance to right a wrong we did thirteen years ago. We made no sacrifices for the satyrs and they were marched off to their doom because of us. Today, though, we have a second chance to redeem that mistake! This time, we shall sacrifice some of our numbers for them. Hopefully, the number is small but we cannot tell. But whatever debt we owe the satyrs for their horses will be paid in six days. And we shall also have the opportunity to test the enemy’s defenses before they can test ours. Now is the best time for us to do so, while the drow fight the dwarves! For if we are to learn bad things, it is better for us to learn them now rather than later. And so let us toast this young company, not for their cause, which is the same as our own, but for their bravery, which is exceeded by none. For I think we should all prefer to ride into the Deep Hai for an hour rather than to follow them in their footsteps for even a day, let alone a month, on the journey they must go. Ours will be but a short, brief battle on the finest horses, but theirs shall be long and hard when on foot underground with their horses left behind. Their courage and sacrifice are far greater than our own. So drink to them, men! Raise your mugs and drink to them!”

“Here! Here!” cried all the men in a rousing cheer. They raised their own goblets in salute, the clinking of cups ringing through the hall as they drank to the courage of their comrades. A sense of unity and purpose filled the hall.

The king’s son fell back in his chair in drunken disgust. A few minutes he fell, face first, into his own plate. His plot to undermine the company having dissolved into a tipsy blur, he passed out from too much ale. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The boys, too, were served ale. There was a young girl with braided blonde hair of gold that stood by their table with a pitcher of it ready to refill any mug any time it was empty. He hadn’t noticed her at all before but after his third mug the boy soon discovered that the girl seemed to be getting uncommonly good looking, the same as the innkeeper’s daughter who had somehow deceived him in the dark. He had thought it was some sort of human magic related to the sun. But it was not dark here now. The hall fire burned brightly. Further, the boy had his standards in selecting a proper-looking girl to exploit. They were really quite high. She had to be alive and breathing for one thing and, for another, look like a girl or at least something close to one. She seemed to pass on all counts.

Yet there was something magical this time about the ale, for every time she refilled his mug, she was better looking and prettier than the last mug. Now, this was some brew that, when you drank it, magically changed the appearance of the women around you.

But it didn’t change anyone else around you. All the males at the table—Graybeard, Marroh, Amien, young Joe, and Ronthiel—looked no different. No! It was only the women who were changing and all of them for the better. Why, it was the most uncommon, wondrous thing imaginable!

That pretty blue-eyed golden-haired girl was just getting better and better looking all the time, and pretty soon he told her so. Why, he even told her how he thought that Leradien was the most beautiful woman there ever was or ever would be, but, in her, Leradien had certainly met her match.

Why he told her he could drown in her deep, sea-blue eyes and there was no use lying to her on account of her eyes could see everything in him and would know right away if he was lying to her so he just didn’t dare do it.

But he could just tell by looking at her that she wasn’t just beautiful on the outside but just as sweet as the purest honey on the inside on account of that’s why she had such lovely golden hair due to the honey underneath and he was sure her lips, like summer strawberries or raspberries, tasted the same as they looked, and that surely she was the king’s own daughter and that was why she was waiting on their table because there couldn’t possibly be any other explanation for such high standing beauty but royalty to be serving someone as lowly as himself.

And he hoped she got her prince and nothing less because it would be a dirty, black-hearted shame if she got married to someone who didn’t appreciate her. Why, if it were up to him, he’d put her to work tomorrow building his house fit for a queen.

Oh! The words just flowed off his tongue. And to show he meant it, he got out his flute and played her the loveliest, sweetest song he could muster and told her he would name it after her if she gave him her name and he promised never to forget it. And she gave it. It was Mary Gold or Marijuana or Mumblety-peg or something like that. He was pretty sure it started with an “M’. Or maybe it was a “J”? Oh! Well! No matter! Whatever it was, he’d never forget it—No! Not ever!

And that was another thing he learned about ale and that was while it turned all the women beautiful around you, you sure didn’t remember very much of it afterward.

And then, the next morning, when he got up and saw her again, he was shocked, if not horrified. He tried to think of something nice to say to her but all that came out was:

“That sure is a mighty fine, long black hair you got growing out of the end of your nose.”

And by the way her eyes widened in response, he could not have been more proud of his compliment. Obviously, he had mastered the art of female seduction.

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