"I'm sorry?" Arnfinn said.
"I said I wanted to join the Hearth Guard." His friend shot him a quizzical look. "Why, is that surprising? Do you think I'm too young?"
"Well, uh, no," Arnfinn floundered. "I suppose there's probably some wardens who are your age or younger. It's just..." he trailed off, searching fruitlessly for some tactful way to explain his reaction. "I don't think you're quite what Lord Snorri had in mind when he formed the guard?"
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
There was a moment of pained indecision, after which Arnfinn finally gave up on expressing himself diplomatically and settled for the blunt truth. "I think recruitment is probably only open to dwarfs, all right?"
Nightfeather clacked his beak at him. "I have perused the
articles of association, and nowhere do they say membership is restricted to any particular species. On the contrary, aspirants of all lineages are explicitly permitted to apply. The only requirements are personal combat prowess and the desire to aid those in danger, both of which I possess, as well as useful noncombat skills. In that respect I believe I have much to offer: I am an experienced scout, for example, and could track down lost travellers from a high vantage point in the sky, or quickly ferry supplies to beleaguered prospectors stuck on a mountainside. I could carry messages great distances. If the group should ever encounter any of the sea folk, I could act as translator, regardless of what dialect those sea folk spoke. Furthermore, I can shoot lightning bolts out of my eyes."
Arnfinn pinched the bridge of his nose. He had found himself in a situation with which he had by now become familiar, knowing with bone-deep certainty Nightfeather was wrong but struggling to articulate exactly why. "Right, I'm sure you'd be very helpful, but that's not what I mean. The wardens are all longbeards, and you're not a longbeard, even if you're of an age with one."
"I do not believe having a beard is mandatory. The warden we met did not have one."
"She was a woman,
of course she didn't have a beard!"
"So we agree," Nightfeather said shrewdly, "that 'longbeard' is merely a respectful term denoting age and experience, and that one can be a longbeard without in fact having a beard that is long?"
"Look, beard, plaits, you need one or the other and you haven't got either, so give it up."
"It is true I could not grow a facsimile of those things, either on my head or my throat, but if long hair on some part of the body is required, I have fur on my hindquarters and I believe with the right inducement it could grow quite long-"
"Please don't tell Lord Snorri you're planning to grow a beard on your ass," Arnfinn interjected. "He, uh, he would not take it in the spirit you intend. Look, just- forget about the hair thing, all right? It's all beside the point. A place in a runelord's personal retinue is one of the highest honours a citizen of Krakka Drakk can aspire to. Nobody's ever heard of someone who isn't even a dwarf holding a title like that."
Arnfinn and Nightfeather stared at each other for a long, awkward moment. Then: "I begin to understand. The author of the articles did not specify a member had to be a dwarf because, to him, it was so obvious it did not require mentioning. You object to my joining the retinue not because it would offend against some explicit rule, but rather because it would be unconventional. There is no precedent to draw on; I may protest my suitability for the position, but in the end, those are only words, and words without precedent carry little weight."
"Yeah, it'd be unprecedented, that's the word exactly," Arnfinn said gratefully. "It's nothing to do with you personally, a griffon retainer is just such a huge step from what we know. Maybe in a thousand years things will be different, but not now. I'm sorry."
"You need not be sorry, friend Arnfinn. The patron of the hearth wardens is known to depart from convention, from time to time, given sufficient cause. I merely need to persuade him that, although accepting a member of the sky folk as a retainer would be a new thing, in this instance it would also be a good thing."
"How are you gonna do that?" Arnfinn asked, interested despite himself.
"It is very simple. In the coming years and decades, I shall dedicate myself to assisting those in need of help, by co-ordinating with your rangers, accompanying the expedition to the place of isolation and by whatever other avenues I may think of. I shall come to the aid of many people, and once I have accrued much merit, I shall go before He Who Quietens the Wind. To my own petition, I shall add the testimonies of those I have assisted, thereby proving that even without precedent my words can still have weight. Once I have demonstrated my sincerity and the strength of my convictions, I believe he will be willing to set a new precedent."
"That's great, but you can't know Lord Snorri will take you on just because you've done some good work. Besides, he might already be full up on retainers by the time you're done preparing, for all you know. What then?"
Then I shall have acted with honour," Nightfeather said firmly, "and have earned the goodwill of many mountain folk in the process. My efforts will not have been wasted."
Arnfinn grasped for his next objection, and couldn't think of any. It was a damned odd thing, what Nightfeather was trying to do, but also honourable, in its own strange way. In fact, if he was going to go out of his way to help travellers in need then it'd be positively dishonourable to try to talk him out of it. "Well, I think you'll have a hard time convincing Lord Snorri, but I can see you're determined. So I guess all I can do is wish you luck."
"Your well wishes are much appreciated, friend Arnfinn. Now if you will excuse me; I have much planning to do."
