Traveller's tales

Lies, damn lies ... 

Cardolan: A Barren Hilltop

This barren hilltop provides a fine vantage of the land all about it: the Greenway away east, winding into the north and south, and in the northwest the glimmer of Baranduin as she wanders down to the Sea. Even far to the west, perhaps the Great Sea itself makes the grey horizon it is difficult to say.

The crumbling ruins that etch their groping fingers toward the sky dominate the scorched, dead face of the hilltop. What a pitiful monument to the hubris of Men. Only shadows live here now only the bravest hearts dare these crumbled stones at night. A dark wind howls, it whistles through gaps in the stones....

Obvious exits:
 Ruins leads to Cardolan: Inside the Ruined Tower.
 Northeast Downhill leads to Cardolan: Defile near the Road.
 West Downhill leads to Cardolan: Girithlin Highlands.

===============================================================================
                      Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
===============================================================================

Real Time is:       Sun Dec 20 14:22:19 2009
IC weather is:      Wind: fresh - Clouds: sparse - Rain: moderate
IC Moon is:         New
IC time is:         Nighttime
IC date is:         Sunday, Day 25 of September in the year 3048.

===============================================================================

[Saraid(#16811)]
Brev has been watched every day that he's been here, night and day, but after a while, the weapons weren't necessarily in hand at all times. Once, at twilight, Saraid went off on her own only to be brought back and be watched nearly as carefully as Brev.

Tonight it's raining. Brev isn't being particularly watched for the first time, wherever he is. Saraid sits beneath a stone that curves over her somewhat, her spear over her knees and her eyes glaring into the wet. Her boots are damp.

Brev has pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head, but otherwise is ignoring the rain as best he can, whistling a fragment of something jaunty. He is also, rather pointedly, ignoring Saraid. Currently his hands are busy with a loop of broken snare-cord, twisting the frayed strands back together. Likely he'll slip out later to set it, alone if Varens allows or else with whichever of his fellows sees fit to endure an ankle-wrenching walk across the rain-spattered hillside.

[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid flicks a glance at Brev, then around. It seems as if no one else were near. She then stands and walks quickly over to him and sits nearby, just out of reach. "Hsst!" she hisses at him, quick and low. "Are you planning on staying then?"

Brev flicks a level glance in Saraid's direction. "Reckon that's the Boss's decision," he says slowly, at last, giving the loop of cord a final tug. It holds. "Put it this way, if someone's surplus to requirements I plan on it not being me." His mouth twists in a fleeting half-smirk.

[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid folds her arms over her knees and tilts her head in a keen way to watch Brev with narrowed eyes. "So you mean that while I was trying to protect you and find a way to help Gidon and his father, you've been trying to stab me in the back and forget about the others? Now I think I understand what's happening here."

At the mention of that name, Brev's eyes narrow to match Saraid's. "If you bring Gidon into this," he says tightly, "if you even /hint/ to the rest that he's out there, you'll regret it. Unless you want to spend the next week or so dying slowly? Kiern, he's trusting as a babe, he wouldn't stand a chance. Some things he doesn't have to suffer." And his jaw sets.

[Saraid(#16811)]
"Then why am I the only one thinking of his fate?" Saraid demands in a tight whisper, her hand gesturing toward the road. "Why am I the only one who is trying to get them out of here? And why have you suddenly turned so nasty to me when I tried to get you out?"

"Out of here?" Brev's hostility is now open - he shoots forward a hand as though he would grasp Saraid's wrist, though the motion is not completed. Instead he pushes himself abruptly to his feet. "They've been taken? Where are they?" The demand is swift and harsh, and he loops the cord in his left hand. "And you tried to get me killed," he hisses back. "Your little plaything, remember? You might just find I play harder than you like."

[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid scrambles backwards, taking her spear with her. "They aren't taken but they would be if they were found," she says hotly. "I don't know where they are. And I only made out like you were my plaything so it would be easier, so that I could be near you and help you get out and get back to them." Her eyes are unblinking on Brev, like a snake. "I was trying to keep you from getting killed, you idiot. I was trying to -help.-"

The hand holding the loop of cord stays at Brev's side, and some of the hostility in his stance fades. "Thank Kiern," he mutters under his breath.

At Saraid's last words, though, he snorts. "Somehow I very much doubt that. I know men. I am one, after all. Amusing playthings have a habit of being broken and discarded. /Useful/ tools, on the other hand ..." He pauses. "Perhaps it's yourself you should be trying to help. Are you useful enough?" The words are mocking, and the soft, youthful image he'd previously cultivated so assiduously is somewhat lessened by the beard growth that shadows his chin and hardens his features.

[Saraid(#16811)]
"You said you weren't going to use me the way other people had," Saraid says accusingly. "You said you wanted to change things. You said you were going soft. I started to believe the things you said. You are the liar."

Brev's mouth twists. "I'm not the one using you," he responds, shrugging in apparent unconcern. "These men," his head jerks in the direction where the others presumably are, "use others whenever and however they can. Took me all of about half a dozen heartbeats to work that out. I simply tried to make sure I was interesting enough to use, rather than being killed out of hand. And of course I'm a liar, how else do you think I lived this long?"

[Saraid(#16811)]
"And I. was trying. to keep you from being used, too." Saraid moves as if to stand. "I'll watch for sign of the others even if you don't. Maybe point them toward their home again."

Brev's cheek twitches at that, and he hisses angrily, "You know damn well I'm followed. Maybe - just maybe - I value Gidon's life enough /not/ to hunt him out." There is a pause, during which Saraid may stand as she wishes - Brev certainly makes no move to stop her. "And there's other places they could go. Saffron's settlement near Harthunn should be safe enough. Away from the intrigues of the clans, and too poor for brigands to bother with."

[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid does stand, her feet apart, and looks away, sticking her hand into her hair and making the wet curls pop up. "I wish you would help me," she grumbles. "I don't want to go out on my own."

One of Brev's brows lifts. "And having me there would help you how? I'm not safe to be around, remember?" He smirks. "It'd just give the rest twice as much reason to track your movements. Kiern, I've seen them - they watch you almost as much as me. For 'family', they seem a bit halfhearted in their welcome."

[Saraid(#16811)]
"You're right," Saraid sighs. "You're as likely to slip a blade between my ribs as anything. And they act like this due to how oddly I acted while I was trying to protect you." She glares at him again. "You're welcome. You made me go soft. Never again, lying on your behalf."

Brev snorts. "Lie all you want - as long as it's not with me. I'm noone's plaything. Don't foist your own choices on others with more wit than to mimic them."

[Saraid(#16811)]
"You still--?" Saraid begins indignantly. "I was -lying- about that plaything business! Obviously you knew it wasn't true!" She makes a small sound of rage and turns to stalk away.

Brev watches Saraid turn her back, and his mouth twitches. "Temper, temper," he says reprovingly, then adds in a hiss, "/I/ knew. Others didn't. What in Kiern's name were you trying to make me. Just lucky Varens didn't fall for it. Hah, like as not he's glad to have one fewer to share you with."

[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid shakes her head, spraying rain outwards. "You're SUCH an idiot," she calls over her shoulder, quickly walking away.

Brev shrugs, ignoring the part of the shower that comes his way. "I'm alive, still," is all he murmurs as Saraid leaves. He watches until he can be sure she's not going to be return, then looks at the cord still in his hand. "Now, wonder if there's enough light left to get this set ..."

A warning ...

Cardolan: Defile near the Road

This shallow, gentle dale between the raised surface of the Greenway and the Cardolan highlands to the west resembles nothing so much as a bowl filled with short, scrublike grass. Like much of Enedhwaith, trees are rare here a small stand of birches near the base of the hill is all the foliage present.

What seems to be a faint path or track winds upwards, along the slope of the hill westward a high mount, at its peak there appear to be skeletal formations of stone. Ruins, reaching toward the sky?

Obvious exits:
 East leads to Greenway - North.
 Southwest up the Hill leads to Cardolan: A Barren Hilltop.

[Nob(#16122)] Night has fallen and though the sky is still stained with orange in the west, the shadows are thick and deep. A small fire is burning in a low hollow, carefully banked so that it can't be seen from a distance, and beside it, a young boy crouches. He is looking out at the darkness, one hand lightly resting on the haft of a spear.

The darkness is looking back. Such is always the way, of course, with wild beasts and birds oft most active at night, but tonight there is something else. A faint rustling, first, the sound of something large trying to move quietly and succeeding for the most part, if not always. And then a faint two-note whistle, followed by a hiss. "Gidon." It comes from upslope to the west, that direction in which the Cardolan highlands stretch out.

[Nob(#16122)] The boy starts, whirling westward, while still crouched. The spear comes up - not as if it will be thrown, but rather to thrust out at anything that attacks. "Who is it?" he calls softly.

"Brev." The response is terse, a thread of a whisper, and then the voice's owner comes into view, a dark lump at the edge of the firelight. He has wormed his way across the crest of the rise that backs Gidon's hollow, and is still crouched low to the ground. His own spear is absent. "Keep the spear handy. And you need to put that fire out /now/. I smelled the smoke." There is an odd tension in the familiar voice.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon hesitates just a moment, squinting as he tries to see into the darkness. Then he lets go the spear and scoops dirt over the fire. He picks it up again before moving as silently as he knows how towards Brev's voice. "Thought it were small enough," he says apologetically. "Where've you been? I seen you with them folks.."

"Watched." Brev's answer is curt. "Still am. Managed to talk my way out of an early death, but they don't trust me. Gidon," there is an urgency to his speech, "You've got to go. Kiern, lad, if they get hold of the likes of you-" For a moment his voice cracks.

[Nob(#16122)] "Go where?" Gidon asks. But there is a stubborn set to his chin. "Come here with you, I ain' leaving without." He looks around cautiously, listening to the night. "Why can't we just go now?" he asks. "I c'n hide our tracks.."

Brev snorts - quietly, but still the derision is clear. "They'd follow. They've got skilled archers, we'd not make it. Besides," he hesitates, then sighs, "I need them." No more is said on that, instead, after a pause while he, like Gidon, listens and watches, he hisses, "You've got to stay away from them. Saraid thought you should go north - which means I'd suggest south. Trust her less than half as far as I can spit in the wind."

[Nob(#16122)] "But..." Gidon says, then sighs silently. "You - stayin' with them then?" he asks, not looking at the man.

Brev's features twist in a grimace. "Told you, they'd come after me. Got to stay till they trust me, then," there is a pause during which the motion of his half-seen figure suggests a shrug, "I can come and go. Can't protect you from them now, not yet." Again that odd note in his voice - almost, one might think it fear. "Gidon, you've got to stay away!"

"And keep away from Saraid," he adds, the tension replaced by disgust. "She's a brigand's whore."

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon looks confused. "All right," he says slowly. "I'll go, but..." He darts a sideways glance at the man. "But where'll we go? There a place t'wait for you?" He looks around at the black night, the faint shadows of dips and hollows in the grass.

As Gidon glances round, Brev tenses. "Need to go before they catch up with me." He pauses, sighs softly. "The settlement just south of Herthunn should be safe. Remember Saffron? It's her folk. They'd treat you well." The words fade, and there is silence for a moment. Then Brev reaches out the hand not holding the sling-cord to grasp Gidon's shoulder briefly, if the youth allows. "Stay safe, Gidon." Then he is gone, working his way back into the dark of the hills.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon feels the brief clasp of fingers on his shoulder and then Brev is gone. He squats silently in the darkness, watching where the man has gone. Until finally, he turns around and catfoots back to where the fire was... when Owain returns, they will go south, night or not night.


Food for thought ...

Cardolan: Defile near the Road

This shallow, gentle dale between the raised surface of the Greenway and the Cardolan highlands to the west resembles nothing so much as a bowl filled with short, scrublike grass. Like much of Enedhwaith, trees are rare here a small stand of birches near the base of the hill is all the foliage present.

What seems to be a faint path or track winds upwards, along the slope of the hill westward a high mount, at its peak there appear to be skeletal formations of stone. Ruins, reaching toward the sky?

Obvious exits:
 East leads to Greenway - North.
 Southwest up the Hill leads to Cardolan: A Barren Hilltop.

===============================================================================
                      Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
===============================================================================

Real Time is:       Tue Dec 22 23:40:02 2009
IC weather is:      Wind: fresh - Clouds: moderate - Snow: powdery
IC Moon is:         First quarter
IC time is:         Late Night
IC date is:         Sunday, Day 2 of October in the year 3048.

===============================================================================

Dawn is here, and Brev has been up before it, judging by the rabbit he's currently got spitted on a stick over a small fire. The fire is needed, for the wind has swept round to the north and with it come small, soft flakes of snow - a reminder of what is to come as winter sets in. He is currently occupied in cleaning his dagger his spear is nowhere to be seen.

The figure of the watchman is outlined against an outcrop of rock - grey on grey, he can be seen only when he moves. The rest of the camp is stirring, and would seem to be gathering up scattered belongings. In one place a low-voiced argument, reinforced by glares and fists but not yet knives, has broken out over the ownership of some small item that glints in the pale half-light.

[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid awakens and packs a few things away from within the warm confines of her cloak. It's a fine cloak, a cloak meant for a lady, lined in dappled fur and incongruent to the rest of her. She stands and makes her way toward the fire, snow catching in her hair.

On the way she passes the arguing pair and her hand darts out, dusky with caught sunshine, to touch one of the tense men on the shoulder. They ignore her. She approaches the fire now without really looking at Brev, just the rabbit.

Brev glances up at her. "Not quite done yet," he warns. "I can tear off a leg if you want, but I won't vouch for your innards." Then, nonchalantly as though he and Saraid hadn't quarrelled, "Seen Varens? Or Dineg?"

The rabbit, large as it might have seemed when caught, will not go far between eight. Or nine.

[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid glances at Brev and seems startled for a moment. She twitches up the hood, her face framed in fur now. "I slept near to Dineg but he was up before me. I meant to make porridge for everyone...." she hesitates, pulls back her hood to look at the rest of the men. The argument has gone to blows and two of them scuffle on the ground. "I should share your fire but either you'll give me a hard time or the rest will," she says in a glum and sleepy way.

Brev grunts at those first words, a faint trace of disgust on his features as he interprets them in his own fashion. This is swiftly wiped away again. "Then I doubt we'll be moving for a while, plenty of time to wait for that rabbit." He glances up at the sky and comments lightly, "Group'd best be gone before the snows come and the river rises. Out here there's nothing. Elsewhere..." One side of his mouth pulls back briefly.

The final words are met with a shrug. "Do as you will. Though can't say you're the main prize of interest right now." His gaze, too, rests on the fighters.

[Saraid(#16811)]
"Mmm." Saraid looks back at them for a moment longer, then gives a very long look down at Brev. She stalks away and comes back with a kettle that she has filled with oats and water. She crouches down to set it into the coals.

Saraid starts adding more twigs to Brev's fire. "I didn't have sex with Dineg, you filthy filthy snake," she says in a low and irritated tone. She then amends in a sing-song, half teasing, half spiteful way of an outrageous lie. "No wait. Yes I did. I did sleep with every one of them last night except you, yes. Because you are the least pleasant of the lot of them."

By the time Saraid's back, one of the two squabblers has claimed his prize, by dint of the knife that gleams in his hand, its tip red-stained. The loser, currently nursing his arm, would seem to have been no more than scratched - at least, he's still standing.

Brev still has half an eye on the combatants as he glances up at Saraid, shifting slightly to allow her easier access to the fire. Oddly enough, the spiteful teasing tone seems to amuse him. "I'm honoured. And there I thought it was because I didn't pay." The smirk accompanying those words fades, and he asks quietly and levelly, "What do you want? What do you really want? Aside from me gone, which I'm sure will be arranged in time ..."

[Saraid(#16811)]
The fire licks at Saraid's sticks around her kettle. She frowns at Brev's question, her brows drawn hard together. A long spoon she takes to stir the cold beginnings of porridge.

"Why do you ask me this?" she says in a pained way at last. "I listened to you and told you a little of my past before, and you did not hear me. I tried to help you and you insulted me. I tried to help your friends and you think I will hurt them. What would you do to me if you knew what I wanted?"

As the flames leap, Brev quickly reaches out to turn the rabbit. "Don't know," he says quietly. "Help, or hinder. It would depend on what you did want. And I asked because," he stops, frowning slightly, "I can't figure you out. You said you wanted to be back with your 'family' - well, here it is, eh? Thought you'd be happier about it." His gaze flicks toward the loser in the squabble, still clutching his arm and now bent over his bed roll, and the frown deepens.

[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid's head bows. She sits back on her heels, her cloak warm about her, as snow falls into their breakfast. She flicks odd little glances at Brev, uncertain. "I also told you that I was taken away from my family when I was a girl and used. I asked if you meant to use me the same way. I said these things." She doesn't watch the fight, but does watch Brev's face.

Brev turns his face so that he can view Saraid but still watch the camp from the corner of his eye. "Told you I didn't. 'Course, that was before I met your friends. Them I can understand - figure we've got a common interest, if we differ somewhat in .. methods. But you ..." The frown is still there. "Do you /want/ to be used?"

And then the loser of the squabble rises to his feet and in a single, fluid motion hurls a knife toward the back of the victor, who has by this time turned away.

[Saraid(#16811)]
Thunk! comes the sound of the knife behind Saraid, but she doesn't look that way, just over at Brev. "No," she says quietly, and the calm way she says it is a contrast to the violence behind her. "No. I said no quite a lot at the first."

The thunk of the knife, however, was the sound of it sinking into the man's shoulder as he turns back. He shouts and the quarrel starts again, this time with three men on the knife-thrower. Varens appears through the snow, big as a mountain, approaching the tangle of four.

Brev ducks automatically at the glimpse of the knife's passage, for all it is nowhere near him. "Kiern!" he mutters, scowling in the direction of the brawl without making any move to get involved himself. "Then don't be used." The words are aimed in Saraid's direction, though his features are still turned toward the combatants. "Turn. Make your own decisions."

He reaches out, turning the spit again, then rises to his feet and shakes the snow from his shoulders with a sigh. "Getting my things - I'll have work to do on whoever's left. He can't afford to be down four."

[Saraid(#16811)]
"I would have done that already except for trying to save you and your friends," Saraid mutters resentfully. At last she looks curiously over her shoulder at the rest of the men, as Verens begins to bellow and pull them apart.

Brev pauses, his brow furrowing as he looks down at Saraid. "Done what? Lets leave me out of it, shall we?" He carefully does not mention Gidon. Then he gives a twistes smile. "These folk are your friends. You decide what to do with them."

The knife-thrower, uncurling as one of his assailants is pulled off, scowls and spits at the one he'd targeted. "Filthy thievin' scum. Some day I'll put a knife in your guts."

Brev, watching, murmurs drily to Saraid, "If, of course, there's any left to decide about."

[Saraid(#16811)]
"I won't tell you," Saraid mutters, then falls silent and goes back to her cooking, ignoring the shouts behind her.

Brev arches a brow at that response, and eyes the cooking pot warily before moving away.

Forward planning ...

The Greenway, Near Ruins of Tharbad

You stand on the Old South Road just north of the River Greyflood, which flows past running northeast-southwest. The road here comes to a sudden stop at the end of a washed-out causeway. There is no way across except by fording a treacherous shallows through which a swift current runs: it looks well-nigh impossible for a man on foot, and dicey even for a man on horseback.

Wide marshes are visible on the far side of the river, and the other side of the broken causeway. Low, flat plains spread out into the distance on the north and west sides. Far in the eastern distance, you see a hazy shadow that is probably the Misty Mountains. Westward lies the ruins of what must once have been a great city -- Tharbad.

Obvious exits:
 SouthEast leads to North-South Road - Approaching Tharbad.
 NorthWest leads to Greenway - Approaching Tharbad.
 West leads to Outside Tharbad.

===============================================================================
                      Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
===============================================================================

Real Time is:       Mon Dec 28 15:25:29 2009
IC weather is:      Wind: breeze - Clouds: moderate
IC Moon is:         Last quarter
IC time is:         Midnight
IC date is:         Hevensday, Day 19 of October in the year 3048.

===============================================================================

It is evening, and a chill wind whistles through the marshes, stirring the reeds and lifting wisps of mist from the hollows. Away in the west the sun is sinking to its rest amidst a bed of crimson and purple silhouetted against this backdrop are the noisy flocks of marsh-birds returning to their roost.

Brev is not watching the birds. Instead he gazes intently at the swirling, muddy river before him, as though gauging its fordability. He even goes so far as to lower in the butt of his spear to measure the Greyflood's depth. Behind him lie the ruins of Tharbad, the maze of buildings and streets that offer shelter and safety to those who know their secrets - wild men for the most part, forced into uneasy truce by the coming winter. Perhaps he does not wish to join them.

[Saraid(#16811)]
"Going to run?" There's a deep voice somewhere behind Brev. Dineg is leaning against a tumbled stone wall, running a stone along the edge of his knife. Old, wirey, scarred, he watches Brev. "Better do it now."

Brev withdraws the spear from the river, examines the shaft carefully. "Why? Because in a couple of weeks when the heavy storms come we'll be trapped on this side of it? I was thinking," he pauses, lets his lips curl into a half-smirk, "that the best food's over /there/." He jerks his head southwards. "Sitting all snug in the Fianni's barns. Someone really ought to do something about that."

[Saraid(#16811)]
Dineg chuckles, shaking his head, watching Brev without blinking. Snnnk snnnk goes the knife along the stone. "It's dangerous business going after towns. Even as close to winter as it is."

Brev snorts. "I was hardly envisaging attacking Forthunn. To get behind those walls you'd need someone on the inside. But there's villages plenty enough - from what I've seen of Stag lands, most will have grain to spare. You /know/ how well their Fianni eat?" The sound of the blade is seemingly ignored.

[Saraid(#16811)]
Dineg eyes Brev for a moment later, then suddenly begins to smile. The stone stops and he tests the edge of the blade with his thumb. "Aye, a bit more won't hurt, but we'll need to move quickly to do it."

The corners of Brev's mouth twitch. "Like the idea? I had a few more. Figure a couple of distractions might get us in and out more easily. No need for the Fianni to start looking north, now, is there? Not when there's someone nearer to blame." He seems completely calm as he discusses the matter, completely unconcerned with the loss of innocent life and property.

[Saraid(#16811)]
"And what is your plan there?" Dineg encourages, sheathing his knife at his belt. "I am sure you have one."

Brev shrugs. "Nothing fancy. A fire in one of the houses should draw the local's attention off, so we can slip in and out with the minimum of risk." Risk to whom, he does not say. "And afterwards ... lay a false trail, south and west. To the lands of the one they call Iron Jaw. They other Fianni fear him anyway, shouldn't take too much effort to convince them he's responsible." A pause, during which he fingers his spear. "I could do that, if you like," he offers casually. "Lay a trail, that is. Or not." He ends with another shrug, equally nonchalant.

[Saraid(#16811)]
Dineg's smile fades. One grizzled brow, split in half by an old scar, lifts. "Perhaps if two men went with you..."

Brev considers that. "One, certainly. I'd prefer a little backup. Though I'd have thought two would leave you a little short, if Stag don't fall for it. Who do you suggest?"

[Saraid(#16811)]
"If the Stag don't fall for it we might just call the whole thing off anyway." Dineg tucks his stone away, too. "Feas," he says, naming the man who threw a knife at someone a week ago. He briefly glances at Brev. "He's good with tracking. And Salud, too." Salud is a quiet, barely noticable man who keeps to himself.

Brev scowls at that first name. "I said backup, not a knife in the back," he protests. Then adds grudgingly, "But he is good at tracking. Fair enough. And Salud, what's his role?" One brow lifts, mirroring Dineg's earlier motion.

[Saraid(#16811)]
"To keep the two of you from being stupid," Dineg grunts. "Seeing as how I can't be sure you two would manage it on your own."

Brev apparently rises to the bait. "No, no, he's not Saraid. Long as she's not around, there shouldn't be a problem." He favours Dineg with a lopsided smile.

[Saraid(#16811)]
There seems to be a small pause as Brev mentions Saraid. Dineg folds his arms over his chest. "Salud is going anyway. But yes. What is the matter with you and Saraid?"

A shrug. "Kiern! Tried to claim she owned me, that's reason enough not to like her. And I don't trust her. Hardly going to let her get all up close and personal. 'Sides, she's a woman." He tosses this last in as if it alone were all the explanation needed.

[Saraid(#16811)]
"Well you need to undo what you've done to her or I'll be having you out," Dineg says, his voice gone hard, angry and annoyed. "She's gone all uppity about her duties since you brought her back. I don't know how you managed to bring her all the way down here if you hate each other anyway," he adds suspiciously.

"I've done nothing." Brev's retort is sharp. "I didn't touch her. And travelling on the Greenway she kept to herself. Suited me." He offers a half-smile, swiftly fled. "I'm /trying/ to keep my distance. Know she's got a place here that I don't fancy filling." This time the smile is twisted. "What more do you suggest?"

[Saraid(#16811)]
"I don't know," Dineg says, snappish. "Just try to fix it. Woman's headed for a beating as it is." He straightens, pushes away from the wall.

Brev winces at that. "That'd hardly improve her behaviour. Push someone, they push back harder." He pauses. "Fine, I'll try to fix it. You could give her a task or two, something to set her apart, maybe? Ach, I don't know. I'll think on it." He glances up at the darkening sky, then states prosaically, "Light's fading. Want me to stay out and hunt, or is someone else taking that duty tonight?"

[Saraid(#16811)]
"You don't know how she'd be. You don't know her." Dineg turns away, circling the crumbling wall, and grumbles over his shoulder, "You do it." He stalks away.

"And thank Kiern for that," Brev mutters under his breath as Dineg turns away. The command is answered by a nod, and the 'it' is apparently taken to be hunting, for he sets down his spear, frees the sling from his belt and settles down hunkered in the reeds, waiting for the wildfowl to settle.