The Minstrel

When Norn emerged from the tailor's shop, he was now dressed in a blue tunic and woolen trousers, topped off with a little round cap. He looked just like any other townsfolk.

"Come on, come on! I just made you all that money. Time to treat me to something good," Norn grabbed Jinn, who was still dazed and counting his coins and pulled him back to reality.

"Sure thing!" Jinn happily stuffed the 10 silver dinars into his pocket. Thanks to Norn, today's haul was almost three times his usual amount. Of course, he was more than happy to agree.

Leading Norn to a tavern, Jinn once again benefited from Norn's sharp bargaining skills, selling his wild boar for the high price of 5 silver dinars.

Watching Jinn, who was practically bubbling over with excitement, Norn just shook his head. This country boy had never seen so much money before. If Norn showed him his entire treasury, Jinn would probably have a heart attack on the spot.

Ignoring Jinn's slightly pained expression, Norn ordered a lavish lunch. "Try the most famous dish here—bean-roasted chicken," he said as a deliciously roasted chicken was placed in front of him, along with a large slice of fine wheat bread, a bowl of apple-stewed pork soup, and a cup of cider.

Norn carefully tore off a chicken leg and a big piece of bread and wrapped them in a cloth for Anna to enjoy later. He tossed the other chicken leg to Jinn and dug into his meal. Although it wasn't as good as his cooking, his body needed the nourishment, so he didn't mind.

After a satisfying meal and a few drinks, Norn contentedly picked his teeth. It was around two in the afternoon, and many passing merchants and farmers had stopped by the tavern to rest. They usually ordered a cheap beer and enjoyed their rare moments of leisure.

"Ah, good people, lend me your ears!" A minstrel, dressed in tattered tight-fitting doublets and hose, with a lute in hand, walked into the center of the hall.

"Save your breath, Rupert. We know your old stories by heart," a farmer who seemed to recognize the minstrel shouted mockingly.

"You won't even earn a cup of weak beer with those tales."

Undeterred by the farmer's taunts, the minstrel bowed gracefully and said in a strange, sing-song voice, "Since the audience demands it, today I shall tell a new story."

"The tale of a knight whose fame echoes across the East—a knight known for his kindness, generosity, humility, bravery, and honor—Knight Norn Adler!"

Norn nearly choked on his drink when he heard his name.

The minstrel's fingers lightly plucked the lute strings, and he began his story in a deep, resonant voice:

"Ah, this knight hails from the distant North, a land known for its fiercest snow and mightiest warriors."

"Norn was born with the Lord's blessing. At three, he could ride a horse; at four, he hunted wolves; at five, he strangled a bear with his bare hands. By six, the pious young knight journeyed alone to the legendary Holy Land—Jerusalem."

"There, he prayed to the Lord to command the unending desert winds. Windmills sprouted from the earth, and countless sheep bowed before him, begging Norn to shear their excess wool. The suffering people sought his protection, and the kind-hearted Norn welcomed them all."

Norn wanted to interrupt several times but couldn't. His brows furrowed so much they almost tied in a knot. But seeing the captivated audience, especially Jinn, who was hanging on every word with wide eyes, he swallowed his frustration.

The minstrel's tone suddenly darkened:

"As Norn's name of mercy spread through the Holy City, the most terrifying assassin of the dark—Hashashin's Old Man of the Mountain—set his sights on him."

"The Old Man of the Mountain is a 300-year-old monster, with a face so hideous it would make a demon weep. His dagger strikes bring smoke, lava, and swarms of venomous bees."

Norn rolled his eyes. Thank goodness Sassan wasn't here; otherwise, she'd make this lousy poet regret it.

"The two battled on the peak of a mountain, at the Horn of the Sea. Norn, unafraid of the Old Man's attacks, stood ten feet tall with muscles forged from steel, blocking all harm."

"After three hundred rounds of fierce combat, Norn, with his blessed physique, finally defeated the Old Man. From that day on, the Old Man, awed by Norn's bravery, became his most loyal blade."

As the minstrel's voice rose to a climax, the small audience was on the edge of their seats. But he quickly shifted gears and began a new tale.

"While the two were locked in combat, the Saracen demon sultan—Saladin—quietly rose to power."

"This heathen sultan devours ten children's hearts raw at every meal and bathes in the blood of maidens daily. His army is a horde of bloodthirsty demons."

Norn wanted to say that Saladin was quite a gentleman, but he figured no one would believe him right now.

"As the Lord's knights were besieged in a tiny castle, Norn rode the storm winds, hurling lightning at the demon horde. The massive thunderbolts shattered the enemy, saving the knights."

"But Saladin had crept close to the Holy Land, ready to ravage it. Norn saw through his plot."

"Norn summoned a whirlwind and instantly led the kingdom's army back to the Holy City, engaging Saladin in a fierce battle."

"Saladin sneered at Norn, opening his maw as apocalyptic black light gathered within. Norn raised his hand to the sky, summoning a colossal bolt of lightning. With a shout from both, the lightning clashed with the dark light, blinding everyone with a brilliant white flash."

The minstrel paused dramatically, savoring the audience's anticipation before continuing.

"After a long while, when the onlookers regained their sight, they saw Norn unscathed, while Saladin was flying into the sky, shouting, 'Norn, I'll be back!'"

"'Oh, my brave warrior, how shall I reward you?' the King of Jerusalem asked. To which Norn calmly replied, 'Protecting the people is my duty. I seek nothing more.'"

"'Knight! You are a legendary knight!' the king of Jerusalem proclaimed, bestowing upon him endless wealth and three hundred maidens."

"From that day on, Norn lived happily in the East with the king's gifts and three hundred beautiful maidens."

The minstrel bowed again to the audience, who clapped and cheered. Many merchants tossed a few copper pennies his way.

"Thank you! Thank you!" The minstrel collected the coins, surprised by the enthusiastic reaction to his new story.

"Do it again!" Some people who hadn't had enough begged for another round. Jinn clapped his hands vigorously, hoping to hear the tale once more.

"Sigh," Norn let out a long, melancholic breath, drawing Jinn's attention.

"Enno, what's wrong?" Jinn asked, concerned by Norn's wistful expression.

"Nothing. I just need a moment of peace."