Ludo backed away from the old women “my future is my own, maybe Feldard would like his future told – but it includes drinking large amounts of ale, then we know that already”.
The dwarf snorted at Ludo’s comment. “At least I can hold my ale – Ludo. How’s the headache this afternoon?” Feldard spoke overly loud on purpose then turned to regard the old woman. “I ain’t much on mystic stuffs myself… try Stephen, he’s the one that saved ya”
Stephan darted a look at Feldard. He suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands but he wished they were hidden in his gloves–which he’d removed not long ago. He looked at the woman’s face. Her visage was unsightly yet she flashed a welcoming, maternal smile.
Stephan gave a short nervous laugh.
“Come, my hero,” Mafka gently lifted the woodman’s hand. She moved with gentle purpose, leading Stephan and the others off the street. “No need to be nervous. Bish thauru dow,” her Traladarin tongue was music to the warrior’s ears. The slight woman had a disarming quality about her! Stephan’s defenses started to rise. She might have a poisoned needle!, he thought.
Mafka’s watery eyes looked into Stephan’s. Her kind brows arched with concern at his obvious discomfort. The eyes and her gentle grip–with a hand that oozed wisdom–were calming. She quickly scribed something with her forefinger on Stephan’s palm and, breathing out, Stephan felt all concern wash away.
“There, there, son. Your hands are certainly large enough for Mafka’s old eyes! I see I’ll have to read ’round a few scars…” She settled onto a nearby stool and began a strange process of scrutiny over the fighter’s palm…
Ludo looked on in wonder – Stephen he could see was putty in the old woman’s hand. He whispered to Hasan, “No way I want my fortune told. What would you do if you were told something awful?!”
He looked around nervously, carts were valuable items yet no owner had come forward to inspect the wreck at the end of the street, lots of people were milling around, yet no one was claiming the cart as their own. He felt the hand of Golthar was involved. Thankfully no one had been injured, including any of his
mates. Still, he felt anger that Golthar had placed innocent people at risk, including this charming old fortune teller.
Mafka closed her eyes tightly. “I see a tall man in yellow robes… He is here, in Threshold and he searches for something… I see him quite clearly. He stands outside a building near the river… a sign bearing two crossed swords swings over his head… he… ah, but the picture dims.”