8It took an additional day after Titus awoke for him to escape his bed, and then another day of resting at the inn for Freya to regain her own strength after healing him. In that time, he was pleased to find that Mother Mathers and her grandchildren were alive and well, and that it was thanks to them that Titus and Freya had survived at all.
"Saw you take down those horrid mutants I did. Beastly things. Know a woman who had a twisted thing like that as a babe. Born with reptilian skin, it was. Told her to drown it and bury it I did. Fool woman tried to hide it in her basement. Witchhunters found out they did. No, I didn't tell them, not a crazed loon myself. Anyway, she died at the same stake her child did. Nasty business, mutants. Don't do no one any good."
Mother Mather told Titus all this while serving both him and Freya a plate of fried biscuits, made in the same pan she'd used so effectively as a weapon. It really was fine Rieklander craftsmanship.
"Unfortunately not the first encounter with mutants I've had," Titus said, taking a biscuit and dipping it in the sausage gravy Mathers had also made. It was the sort of quick and simple camp fair he was used to, though far tastier than anything a camp cook had ever managed. "Have you encountered many mutants before, Freya?"
The elf paused in examining the biscuit with some degree of interest, apparently not having tried the peasant fair before. "Hmm? Oh, no. The Isle of Ulthuan is protected from the corrupting influence of Chaos by various wards that prevent such things. Some human scholars claim the elder races are immune to the corrupting influence of Chaos, but this is false. Mutations are well known to take place amongst the druchii and dwai zharr, though more often among the dwai zharr as they more frequently dedicate themselves to Chaos. "
"Weird magic and foreign gods will always lead to trouble, you mark my words," Mathers said sternly. "Worship Sigmar and Shallya, or Mors if you must, and leave the others."
"What about Ulric?" Titus teased, which earned him a swat from the old woman's wooden spatula.
Freya looked pensive, shaking her head. "There are a great many gods, both human, elven, and dwarven that are good. While some elves consider the Sigmarite religion to be close to barbarism, I personally find that it is quite a compelling argument that he did indeed ascend to godhood, and should be considered as much of a deity as Grimnir of the dwarfs, he is…"
Freya trailed off, as Mathers was looking disapproving, and Titus was trying very hard not to grow bored with the lecture.
"Yes, well, I suppose it's good for the elves to have elven gods, and the dwarves to have dwarven gods, but I'll stick to worshiping human ones. I prefer Ulric, but I pay tribute to Sigmar and the others of course," Titus said.
"Brutish god, Ulric. Suited for rough men. But I suppose you're one of those aren't you?" Mathers sighed. She shook her head. "I might have wasted my time saving your carcass from those mutants. You're set to run off and get yourselves killed doing some fool thing or other, aren't you?"
"Yes, though there is the question of how we should go about it," Titus said, wiping his mouth and mustaches with a napkin. He was fairly certain if he got crumbs or gravy on his tunic, Mother Mather's would have smacked him, and besides, he didn't want to appear a lout in front of Freya.
"Do you…do you truly think someone is after me?" Freya asked, looking a bit green. "There were a few who knew I was at the College, but they didn't seem to mind so long as I kept away from them…"
"Hmm, trouble with a man, girl? Well, this one seems good enough to send the lot packing. I'd bed him and be quick about it if I was you. Why, if I were just twenty years younger myself…" Mathers gave a cackle, then left, while Freya was flushing in embarrassment, and Titus was trying to hide how flustered he was himself.
"Well, ah, we could continue on to Marienburg, but that's likely where we'd encounter more elves, if that's what you're concerned about," Titus pointed out.
"Yes, there are two others here in Barenfahre. I have…avoided them," Freya admitted.
"Probably wise. River merchants?" Titus asked.
Freya nodded, looking miserable. He had to wonder just why her people would be after her. She seemed a decent person to him. She was ancient by human standards, but by her own admission she was young by elven ones. She had mentioned that her family wasn't fond of her, though he had no idea why that could be. She didn't seem to be one of those Dark Elves he'd heard of, and the College of Magic wouldn't have employed a servant of Chaos.
"Mayhaps we'd be better served taking the overland route. It's longer and more dangerous, but we'd likely avoid your people if we took the route over the Skaag Hills and then through the Grey Mountains," Titus mused, stroking his mustaches thoughtfully.
"That would be a perilous quest," Freya agreed, but the gleam in her eyes told Titus she was more excited at the thought than anything else. "Would you really brave such dangers for me, Sir Titus?"
Titus stood and bowed, flourishing his cloak. "For you, my lady, I would brave any danger."
He meant it as a joke, giving Freya an ironic smile and wink as he did so, but was a bit surprised to see her immediately fall to blushing and stammering, to the point that she excused herself for a bit.
With their plans set, they bid farewell to Mother Mathers and her grandchildren, who were taking the ship to Marienburg still. They were forced to acquire new horses, and both Titus and Freya had a moment of silence for their own beasts. Titus could only pray that Reisander and Lady had died quickly, rather than be subjected to various horrors by the mutants.
Their new mounts were not so fine as before, though it turned out Freya had a considerable purse of gold that they used to purchase the horses. Titus got a sturdy bay stallion that was no warhorse, but had the build of a solid riding horse. He named the horse Trager, and found him to be a well tempered horse around five summers.
Freya purchased a more expensive dappled lady's mare, a beautiful horse with fine contores she named Heidi. Titus wondered a bit about that, as Freya had looked rather smug when she told Titus he, "Couldn't ride Heidi anymore."
Not that he hadn't given it a halfhearted attempt in the past, but he hadn't expected an elf to hold a grudge that odd. He was starting to wonder if perhaps Freya didn't have an interest in him, a thought so baffling he quickly dismissed it as nothing but a boyish fancy.
They first took a ferry across the River Reik, then rode along its bank to the east, backtracking slightly. For the first two days, they rode along the riverbank or through the Reikwald Forest. Both nights they were able to find modest inns at small towns, who were happy enough for their custom. Freya maintained her disguise as a human lady, though she did insist they continue to share a room.
"We have no idea how long the road ahead of us is, Sir Titus, and I have lost all but this one purse," Freya said, which sounded like good sense, and besides, Titus was somewhat more comfortable having her nearby.
Even in the inns, he found himself sleeping lightly, and worrying of sudden assault by more foes. Freya assured him she was now setting wards to alert them if someone attempted to break into their room at night, but even so, his dreams were troubled.
At the second inn, Titus found a merchant with several wagons who was heading into the hills to the town of Felsenstadt, one of the few remaining active mining towns.
"You're welcome to travel along with us. No charge if you're willing to use that sword to help guard my wagons, two silvers each if you're not," the merchant, Gram Handler told them. He had several tough looking guards already, including one that Titus recognized as a dwarf slayer of all things. What one of those was doing in this part of the empire, Titus had no idea. He'd met a few of them in his time in the regiments, and they were one and all suicidally mad for battle. Serving as a poor merchant's guard was hardly what he expected of one.
"I'm fair with a blade," Titus allowed, giving the merchant an ironic smile.
"Oh, Titus is too modest," Freya interrupted, putting a hand on his arm and smiling. "He is quite adept with his sword. Why, he fought a dozen horrid mutant pirates not a week ago."
Upon hearing that, the slayer spat, looking unimpressed and turning a baleful one-eyed gaze on Titus. "Think killing a few twisted cast offs makes you a mighty warrior, manling?"
One of the other guards, a tall blond man with an oddly fine sword at his side stepped forward. "Forgive my companion. He is likely disappointed he was not there for the fight."
The man was fairspoken, surprising Titus, who bowed slightly. "I take no offense, and would have appreciated the help. That axe of yours would have been welcome, Master Dwarf. I am afraid that those vile mutants nearly got the best of me."
The dwarf grunted and turned away from Titus. "Not had a decent fight in weeks. We'd better find something worth fighting on this trip."
The other guard gave a wan smile at that. "Well, at least we'll get paid. And there's the free ale."
"Weak piss is more like it," the dwarf grumbled, but he shouldered his axe and walked alongside the wagons as they set off into the hill country.
Titus watched the dwarf go, then glanced at Freya, whose lips were pursed. He rode his horse alongside her, and dropped his voice. "We could find another wagon train in a day or two if you'd rather not travel alongside a dwarf. I know there is…friction between his people and yours."
"Hmm? Oh, no, I don't mind. I don't intend to let him know I'm an asur regardless. No, I was just thinking, how terribly romantic it is to have a dwarf slayer in our party."
Titus jerked back in astonishment, then blurted. "You find a dwarf slayer romantic?"
"Oh yes, I've never met one before, you know. I simply must ask him what his story is. Perhaps what his secret shame is that caused him to take a slayer's Oath, and if he did so on the Altar of Grimnir at the Shrine of the Slayers. That's how it always is in the books I've read, and I'd like to get the details right for mine," Freya said, taking out a pen and some of the paper she'd purchased when they'd left Barenfahre.
"I would not suggest doing so, my lady."
Titus looked over Freya's horse to find the tall blonde guard walking beside her horse. The man flashed her an all to perfect smile, which to Titus screamed "noble," despite the man's currently humble station.
"My companion is somewhat touchy about his origins, and I would not suggest you bring up his shame unless you wish to arouse his ire," the guard said.
"Oh, that is too bad. Do you think he'd be willing to tell me a bit of Slayer culture? It's sadly a lacking field. Everyone talks about their mighty deeds, but I've not been able to find many sources on, say, the meaning of the tattoos, or why exactly they all dye their hair and put it up in a crest," Freya said, smiling at the man and smoothing back her wimple.
That other fellow was all together too good looking for his own good, Titus decided. Despite his travel stained clothes, he bore himself like one of high birth, styling his long hair loosely about his shoulders, and there was that odd sword with the dragon hilt at his side.
"Felix Jaeger, by the by. My surly companion is Gotrek Gurnisson. I am afraid we are both currently rather humbly employed as mere caravan guards."
Freya glanced at Titus, and her eyes narrowed for a moment. Then a broad grin spread across her face, and her eyes twinkled. She turned back to Jaeger, managing to somehow curtsy in her saddle. "I am Freya of the Imperial College, while my companion and body guard is Titus Rann."
Jaeger's eyebrows rose in surprise, and he bowed to Freya. "Truly? Perhaps we share some acquaintances. I was at the University myself for some time as a student. Perchance we took classes together?"
That got Freya to look abashed. "Ah, well, you see…I, um, was mostly at the Imperial College of Mages, and, well, I'm sure I would recall such a handsome man such as yourself, Master Jaeger. You, ah, seem not to have heard of me, though I…were you the man who published those interesting lines of verse for the Mock Beggars? When you ceased publication so suddenly, I confess I worried you had been hanged."
"Ah, then you have read some of my poor lines." Jaeger bowed, and Titus decided he didn't like the man at all. "Indeed, I am that Felix Jaeger. Though as you seem to have suspected, my poetry did get me in some trouble with the law. That was how I met Gotrek, actually. He saved me from some rather unpleasant circumstances, and well, we've been adventuring together ever since."
"Really? Well, you simply must tell me more of your adventures, Master Jaeger! To travel alongside a dwarf slayer must be a truly fascinating tale."
"Nearly as interesting as traveling with an elf wizardess," Titus muttered half under his breath. Not softly enough, it seemed, as Freya's booted toe lashed out and kicked him in the shin.
"Something wrong, Master Rann?" Jaeger asked, his face a look of pure concern as Titus' grimaced in pain.
"Old wounds from my time in the Imperial Regiments. They ache, from time to time," Titus said, giving the other man a wolfish grin. "I'm afraid I received my education on the battlefield, rather than in halls of learning."
"Ah, yes. An instructor I have become all too familiar with, myself," Jaeger said, giving Titus a self depreciating grin. "I've found myself in situations I never would have dreamt of back in my university days. Tell me, have the two of you been on the road together long?"
"Merely a fortnight," Freya answered. It had been an eventful two weeks, but it had actually been slightly less than that by Titus' reckoning.
"An unfortunate encounter, then. Let us hope that nothing else wicked befalls you. Especially during our time together. But if it does…" Jaeger rested his hand on the hilt of his sword meaningfully.
"I will protect my lady," Titus said, doing his best not to sound like a sullen child. This Jaeger looked to be no more than a few years his senior, somewhere in his mid twenties. He was scruffy looking, but well mannered and spoken, and gave off an air of mystery.
"Oh, I shall feel ever so safe with two such strong gentlemen to safeguard me," Freya said, batting her eyes at Jaeger. "Tell me, Sir Jaeger, what deeds have you and the slayer performed yet? I couldn't help but notice the hilt of your sword: it seems most mysterious and powerful."
Jaeger's chest swelled slightly, and he drew his blade. It was indeed a fine weapon, with a dragon hilt, and mysterious runes along the blade. Titus very nearly whipped out his own sword to show how much more impressive a runefang was, but he felt that was a little too close to the sort of childish displays of bravado a boy would engage in to woo a girl who had caught his fancy.
What care had he if Freya wanted to flirt with this lummox? She was free too. He could well imagine the look on Jaeger's face when he found out the impressive bosom that Freya was showing was false, and that she was possessed of a set of extra pointy ears. Actually, that thought made Titus feel slightly guilty, but only slightly. He and Freya were simply traveling companions, and nothing more.
He made a sour face, and hunched in his saddle as they plodded along the dusty road. What a miserable day. He almost hoped they would be attacked, so he could work off some of his frustration.
"They're turning into the hills. That dwarf you were so concerned about is still with them," Heidi said, looking through the spyglass Vicini had given her. She was currently clinging to one of the upper branches of a tall fir tree, watching the merchant's caravan. She lowered the spy glass, and glanced down at Vicini. "Anything else you want to know before they get out of my sight?"
"No. That's enough for now," Vicini growled, and Heidi put the glass into her pouch, then slid expertly down the tree trunk, landing beside Vicini. It had taken them three days to catch up to Titus and the elf bitch, and by then they were in a position that made Vicini reluctant to do anything. The other dwarf was a Slayer, and while he wasn't one that Vicini seemed to be familiar with, he had a healthy respect for the battle prowess of his people, and seemed reluctant to directly attack the party.
"There's six guards, not counting Titus. One of them, the blond, has a fancy sword. Heard a rumor they slew a troll in the mountains," Heidi said, repeating information she'd already told Vicini.
He merely grunted, then stomped off towards the hills. "Not many contacts in this area. But I have some ideas."
"Oh? We going to try sneaking into their camp and just filching the sword?" Heidi asked. She's mostly given up on using her knowledge of Titus' identity as leverage, and Vicini seemed to be growing an appreciation of her usefulness as a partner. He did insist on calling her his "slave" still, but he hadn't tried anything funny with her, so she just corrected him once in a while.
"No. Not with a slayer and a wizard there. Swords won't do me any good if I die getting them. That axe though…" Vicini ran his thick fingers through his beard, looking pensive. "It is a mighty weapon. I don't recognize it, but…we shall not act directly."
"Right, makes sense. So what do we do? Find some more mutants to sick on them? Nearly worked last time," Heidi pointed out.
"With a slayer there? No. We need a mightier tool this time. And fortunately, there are those who are always easily duped for gold," Vicini said as the two of them approached their trio of mules. Heidi got up onto one, while Vicini stayed on the ground. The other two were burdened with plunder and loot, as well as various weapons.
Heidi nodded, and checked the pistols at her belt. Vicini had never asked for them back, and she'd never offered. "So what's the plan then?"
For a moment, she thought Vicini wouldn't answer her. He definitely considered her to be more of a tool than a partner, but after half a minute or so of walking along in silence, the dwarf replied with a single word: "Greenskins."
The trek through the Skaag Hills was rather dull for the first three days, broken up mostly by Titus' growing irritation at how much of a braggart Jaeger was. When he wasn't drinking with the dwarf slayer, he was regaling Freya with surely exaggerated tales of his exploits as the "Rememberer" of the Gotrek. Titus was half certain the fop had made that title up on the spot.
They were sitting around the evening campfire, where Jaeger and Gotrek had joined Freya and Titus for a pot of stew on Freya's invitation. Titus was currently sulking by the fire with Gotrek, who was more interested in the small keg of ale he'd brought from one of Handler's wagons, that apparently being his pay for the day.
Jaeger and Freya were talking about some sort of poetry they had both studied in Altdorf, while Titus mixed the stew. While Freya wasn't a horrible cook, Titus took pride in the fact that his father had taught him from a young age how to properly prepare a good meal. He'd often done the cooking when he'd been on campaign, if for no other reason than what the cooks made was completely unpalatable in his opinion.
"That woman smells funny," Gotrek grumbled, glaring at Freya with his one good eye.
"It's called bathing, Master Gurnisson," Freya called, apparently having heard the remark. "And a bit of perfume."
"I wasn't talking about that. You don't smell right," Gotrek growled, lowering his mug of ale and wiping at the foam in his beer, before letting out a loud beltch.
"Perhaps it has simply been too long since we have enjoyed a lady's company, Gotrek," Jaeger said, making a placating gesture.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say she smells like an elf," Gotrek said, then spat into the fire, earning him a glare from Titus.
Freya paled slightly at that remark: She'd kept up her illusion the entire time, and had made sure that no-one had caught sight of her long ears. She laughed a bit, but looked distinctly nervous. Jaeger glared at the dwarf, who glared right back, nursing his beer.
Standing up, Titus picked up his sword. "Well, the stew will be ready after a bit. Fancy a bit of exercise, Jaeger? I've not had a good bout in some time."
Jaeger frowned slightly. "Well, I don't know that-"
"Oh, yes! You simply must!" Freya said excitedly, clapping her hands and springing to her feet. "To see two gentlemen engage in a duel over- I mean, yes. I would so like to see your swordsmanship, Master Jaeger!"
"Never mind, that girl's too silly to be an elf," Gotrek grunted, but the others ignored him.
"Well, if the lady insists," Jaeger said, and stood, pulling his own sword loose. He swung it a few times, stepping away from the fire to a small relatively flat area. Most of the land around them was full of rocks and scrub brush, along with rolling terrain that rose to hills large and small. There were a few stunted trees, but mostly the soil was too rocky for those to grow well.
Both men removed their coats and stretched, eyeing their opponent. In most fights, Titus was used to being taller than his opponents, save for when he had fought orcs or beastmen. Jaeger was about his height, and likely a finger or two taller, though Titus wouldn't admit it out loud.
"To first blood?" Titus offered, raising his runefang in salute.
"As you wish," Jaeger replied, returning the gesture.
"Now hold on," Gotrek said, getting unsteadily to his feet to stagger over to where the beaming and blushing Freya was standing and fanning herself with her hand. "That's an odd sword you have there."
Titus ignored the dwarf, and stepped in, swinging for Jaeger harder than was probably called for in a friendly bout. Jaeger's reflexes were well honed however, and he parried Titus' swing, then riposte with a trust towards his abdomen.
Almost without effort, Titus interposed his own blade, gritting his teeth as he did so. Sparks flew as the two swords struck again, and Titus attempted to attack again, only to find himself forced to parry again and again as Jaeger's lightning fast strikes drove him back.
Still, it felt as though Titus knew exactly where Jaeger's blade would be and how he would swing it, seeing through every feint and anticipating every attack. After a few moments, he relaxed and let his reflexes and instincts guide him, even though it half felt as though some unseen hand were guiding his blade.
Even with his suddenly improved reflexes, sweat began to pour down Titus' face and back, and his arms began to ache from the heavy blows as his lungs labored. He could go at it with Jaeger for several minutes like this, but both men were going all out, and both would soon tire. It would come down to who slipped up first, and Titus was determined that it would not be him.
He watched Jaeger's body as the man continued to press him, noting the man's form. It was very good, that of someone who had trained at the best fencing schools and under the best fencing masters. Titus had fought beside such men, and dueled them before. Beating them was hard: aside from an unblooded greenhorn who would fall for simply dirty tricks, a veteran like Jaeger who had seen real action simply had an excellent foundation to build off of, one that had trained them in body and mind to react and attack faster than the human brain could consciously direct.
Titus himself had only ever trained with his uncle, but he'd learned lessons on and off the battlefield for years, and considered himself the equal of any man in a sword fight. Jaeger was more than putting that to the test, but Titus refused to yield, managing to launch a few attacks of his own between parries, though Jaeger deflected or dodged Titus' own attacks.
At last, Titus thought he saw an opening as one of his parries sent Jaeger off balance. He stepped in, slicing at Jaeger's arm to end the fight. To his disgust, however, he had at last fallen for a feint. He did indeed manage to put a shallow gash on Jaeger's left arm, but he took a knick to his ribs that left a cut of their own.
"Well," Jaeger gasped, looking down at his cut arm as Titus winced and touched his side. "Shall we call it a draw?"
"Oh, wonderful, wonderful!" Freya gasped, and jumped in before Titus could respond. "You were both incredible! Why, I haven't seen such swordsmanship since the Feast of Vaul fifty years ago in Tor Finu!"
She put her hands to Titus' chest, muttering a spell, then shook her head when nothing happened a moment later. "Oh, set down your sword. I am afraid I forgot in the heat of the moment."
"I KNEW IT!" Gotrek thundered, suddenly sticking his stubby finger in Freya's face. "YOU'RE AN ELF!"
"Gotrek, why are you still on about…that…" Jaeger began, then trailed off. No sooner had Freya touched Titus' bear skin, than her illusion had worn off. Her face had become less rounded, taking on the more angular look that was her natural elven look, as well as her bust size shrinking down to near non-existence. In her excitement, her whimple had also gone eskew, and one of her ears was poking out.
"That, Master Gotrek, is none of your concern," Titus said, putting himself between the Slayer and Freya, who had jerked back from the dwarf's accusatory gesture.
"If there's one thing I hate worse than liars, it's magic, and if there's one thing worse than magic, it's elves!" Gotrek snarled, reaching for his massive axe. "There was some devilry here, mark my words! You looked different until you touched that manling, and then that sword of his broke whatever foul spell you put on yourself!"
"Gotrek, they are not our enemy," Jaeger said hastily, putting a restraining hand on the dwarf's shoulder. Not that it would do much: Despite the fact that he overtopped Gotrek by several feet, the massive shoulders of the dwarf were knotted with as much muscle as that of an ox, and the dwarf seemed just as strong as one.
"I refuse to travel with some mincing elfish witch!" Gotrek raged, though he didn't raise his axe, just putting a hand on it.
"I am…a bit baffled as to your disguise myself, Lady Freya," Jaeger said, his eyes narrowing. "What is the purpose of this deception?"
"What purpose!? What purpose!? It's that!" Freya spat, pointing at Gotrek's open hostility. Her finger shifted, to where Merchant Handler and the other guards were suddenly muttering from their own campfires, casting suspicious glances as the words "elf" and "witch" could be heard. "And them! I simply don't want to deal with their suspicion and hatred! I just-"
Freya broke into tears, covering her face with her hands, and stumbling off behind a boulder. Titus directed a look of rage and disgust at the dwarf and his companion, then hurried after her, picking up his sheath and sliding the runeblade home as he hurried after Freya.
He found her sitting atop a weathered boulder, still crying as she rocked back and forth slowly. Titus had taken a few lovers, but he'd never really known what to do when those women had wept, preferring to find other places to be, often because they were weeping because he was leaving. He did, however, remember how to comfort his younger sisters, and though he certainly didn't think of Freya that way, he did kneel down beside her and put his uninjured arm around her shoulders.
To his surprise, she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. It was a temptation to speak, but for one thing Titus didn't know what to say, and for another he never remembered his words having an ameliorating effect on his sister's woes when they were in a state like this.
After a minute or so, Freya took his injured arm and tried her spell again. This time, her magic came, and flowed into the wound, knitting it closed.
"Thank you," she said quietly. She looked up at Titus, her visage not that of an ageless immortal. There was snot and tears crusting her face, which he took out a bit of cloth he used as a handkerchief, and wiped away for her, then gave to her. She nodded her thanks.
"Do you hate me too?" Freya asked quietly. "For…" She swallowed, and couldn't finish.
"No. I don't hate elves, though I am developing a lack of fondness for dwarfs," Titus told her.
Freya snorted at that. "I've met a few dwarfs who could be pleasant, though it was clear they were forcing themselves too. Honestly. Most of them aren't any older than I am, and the War of the Beard was long enough ago that few even of my own race were alive then. It's stupid. But that one…"
Titus flexed his arm, and found it as good as new. Then he wrapped his other arm around Freya. She felt…nice. Like a woman. Not just an elf.
To his horror, he found Freya crying into his chest again, and he realized he'd voice that bit aloud.
"Thank you," Freya said quietly, pressing herself to him. "I think of you as a man, Titus."
He wasn't sure how to take that. Did she mean in the racial sense, or in the other, more interesting one?
Then he remembered something.
"The stew! That blasted dwarf and Jaeger will eat all of it!"
He and Freya hurried back to the campfire, but they found the pot of stew bubbling, with no one else sitting at their fire. Gotrek and Jaeger were sitting at another fire, and all around, others were shooting uncertain looks at both of them.
"Well, more for us then," Titus said, and dished up a bowl for each of them.
Freya accepted hers with a blush, then glanced over at Jaeger. "I wonder if I could heal his wound…I never did find out if it was you holding the blade that resisted my magics, or if it was the blade's injuries that did it."
"If you must," Titus said, his tone going wooden.
Freya glanced over at Jaeger, who was laughing with Gotrek and some of the other guards. Then she scooted closer on the stone they were sitting together on, so that their elbows touched. "The stew is good."
Titus smiled, and decided she was right. Looks like he'd beaten Jaeger in a duel after all.