Having brushed himself off, Ehomba had bent to recover as many of the spilled mushrooms and oranges as he could. Like the envoy, many had been squashed beneath the weight of the broken branch. Whatever he scavenged would have to do. He was not going back into the forest in search of replacements. One nearly fatal fruit-gathering expedition a night was enough.
“As a matter of fact, Simna, I did not. Grateful as I am, it was as much of a surprise to me as to the rest of you.”
“Hoy, right, sure.” The swordsman wore a peevish expression. “That’s what you always say, bruther. You just happened to be standing under that branch, and it just happened to break and fall right on that homicidal stack of bones. No magic, no sorcery. Just coincidence, and nothing more.”
Having picked up those oranges and mushrooms that were unbruised, Ehomba glanced over at his companion. “I cannot explain it, Simna. But I know that there are times in a man’s life when it is best not to question things too closely.” Tilting his head back slightly, he sniffed of the night air. “Something is burning.”
“Our supper!” Whirling, Simna broke into a run, but not before looking back over his shoulder as he darted past his friend. “By Gnomost’s gneels, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear I’d seen that tree before. Funny thing, that.”
“Yes.” Ehomba too spared a last, lingering glance for the immense old oak as he followed his frantic companion back into camp at a more leisurely pace.
The incident was not discussed as they ate, but everyone watched the surrounding woods a little more closely, paid a bit more attention to the distant rustlings and rattlings of the nocturnal forest creatures. The fish was delicious, not badly burned as Simna had feared, but only thoroughly cooked. As Ehomba had surmised, the addition of broiled mushrooms to the meal and wild oranges for dessert was an excellent complement to the main course. Even Ahlitah tried a little of everything, much to the surprise of both his human companions.