Private Tales Deep Cuts & Brighter Wounds

It had been awfully pleasant, somehow. Perhaps it was the silence that had often reigned betwixt them on their way, the sort he minded none. If neither of them had anything to say, why speak merely for some sense of unity or feigned interest. Camaraderie, he felt, was a given and sometimes wholly wordless.

But there was no such peace here, serenity of a homecoming left to the last twist in the road before the town. Though it took restraint, he had managed to keep pleasant appearances even as they’d been promptly bothered throughout what was supposed to be a passing-through, an all too optimistic thought.

At least he wasn’t alone in his notions, for once, if Syr Cathmore’s barely veiled dismay was anything to go by. They made a rather grim pair, her with an amount of world-weariness writ to every sigh and expression, himself with his general unaffected air and unrelenting frown. The last of the crates were hauled over, but there wasn’t relief nor triumph in it.

Just a — sinking feeling. He straightened in a huff, meeting eyes with Monroe in the wake of her inquiry. In approval of her tone, for he shared in the implied impatience, he nodded firmly and shift his look to regard the local guard Captain in turn.

” Yeah. Out with it at once, if you will. ” Squinting in the warm glare of the day, he hooked an index into the collar of his gambeson, loosening it in a forcible yank.

Monroe

He listened expressionlessly as the situation was explained, stare bouncing betwixt the brandished root vegetable and the man himself.

A sorcerer. A usual accusation, one he was rather familiar with himself for having been at the receiving end of it. He spared no effort keeping a residual amusement from his face, eyes scanning the distant treeline like in search of the fabled magician. Kind Syrs, indeed.

” Suppose we are qualified — Being a brand of sorcerers ourselves. ” You want one caught, send another. Or several. ” And as we’ve just the day, eluded to by Syr Cathmore here, we’d best get busy. I imagine we’ll manage from here, so — ”

Shrugging, he gave both old farmer and captain a final look.

” Thank you for your help and goodbye. ”

With that he turned on heel swiftly, beginning down to the bakery that’d been suggested as their first stop. And towards which he would, for the time being, pretend to go. He would speak no sooner than whence they were out of earshot of whom he’d aimed to leave in their dust. And even then, it was in a low mutter and a discreet sidelong glance to his fellow knight.

” I will admit I find it curious that we’ve yet to hear more accounts of whatever ill has befallen the folk. More of the same— ” He huffed out, resisting the urge to glare past his shoulder.

” They seem awfully sure of his guilt and I don’t much fancy the feeling I might be manipulated to an opinion. Why shouldn’t we seek the hunter out at once, be it to banish or question? ” Or just warn him of the faults being assigned to him.

By the sound of it the folk didn’t even know his name. Or if they did, it had gone unmentioned for whatever reason. It was all too easy to point fingers, then.

” If we can find him, that is. ”

Monroe

Basic and universal was definitely a way to put it. And what even was the function of a shadow in a mirror, when opposed to failing crops and a difficult delivery. It felt so— disconnected and haphazard.

If half of those omens aren’t but figments of imagination to one degree or another.

He remained at Monroe’s shoulder, grim and silent as a glorified gargoyle, gladly forfeiting lead and initiative as she seized both in that chilly efficiency of hers. It wasn’t really a questioning, as this Terrence could appear to rave on all by himself rather adequately, but he hadn’t to feel thankful for it.

Now, Syr Cathmore’s quick tongue, however— His eye strayed at his feet and then back to the road, a tilt of the head barely hiding the little smirk Monroe’s nore brutal quip managed to inspire. Couldn’t have said anything better himself had he the intention to speak out of turn, which wasn’t anything beyond him.

But, let us not rock the boat overmuch. We’ve the whole day yet.

The suggested direction and ’perhaps’ therein had him further turn on heel, attention rife with disbelief already drifting to the woodland. Scaring the fishermen with what? More omens? He’d not dare look at Terrence for an answer, not when the man appeared terribly content to send them away in what felt like none too soon. To the wished luck, he gave a nod that was almost genuine in its appreciation.

” Careful yourself, mister. See if we don’t come back this way again later. ” For the time being, northward it is.

He fell to step beside Syr Cathmore, eyeing the rabbit’s foot with not so much interest as amusement. It was true and darkcast, reaching the eyes as he jerked his chin at it.

” What a precious gift. Wonder if it’ll actually work or— ” He shrugged one shoulder. ” If it’s just cursed like the rest of this town. Either way, it’ll be a great means of indentifying your precious corpse once the hunter kills us with magic. So hold on tight — "

He flicked her arm with the back of his hand.

” Lest we get unnamed graves and have to turn to haunting. ”

Monroe

A ghastly thing — he’d not taken Syr Cathmore for one concerned with appearances, so one had to figure it a joke. He hummed as if in lamentation, though his smile remained.

” You never know what having it around your neck could grant us. Maybe the hunter is afraid of rabbits. ”

A shrug as he feigned seriousness, attention affixed to the path ahead that in time appeared to become— lined with something as they exited the immediate vicinity of the town. Signposts, of which Monroe was quick to point out one. He exhaled a half-hearted laugh at it.

” I dare say it’d look rather fetching outside the monastery library. ” Everyone will think it’s about the porn. The purity of nature — Unmanned urges. ” Should ask the Guard Captain to add that to the reward once we get back, prove whether that severed foot makes you as lucky as legend claims. ”

They snickered at a couple more on their way, tallying up the recurring ’pox upon you’ as well as the more curious adornments nailed to trees — a wreath of garlic, upside down horseshoe, colourful ribbons woven from red, blue and green. All the holy and unholy gestures for protection. It was getting harder to laugh at it, the longer they went.

A mask of seriousness hung upon him as they encountered another, his look measuring the young woman with not so much suspicion as concern. A huntsman, a sorcerer, a gorgon — what next, he’ll be an invisible spirit which every full moon turns into a woodpecker?

He managed to keep all reaction to himself, merely blinking impassively as Monroe was quick to just bid the woman good luck on her quest. But that lasted only for as long as they were in earshot, his eye straying past his shoulder at the bemirrored maid warily as he spoke to his companion.

” By now — if we find him and he is not some garden gnome gone rogue, I’ll be so disappointed. ”

Monroe

Suppose he was right there with her in the curiousity, in some way. It was easy to feel the desire to pursue it too, when the company one got to do so with wasn’t half shabby. When it came to small towns and their respective features, he hadn’t but to shrug.

“ Perhaps they are, being the perfect size to accommodate an amount of it. Any smaller and you’ve one village idiot, two if you’re lucky, and cities— “ He made a face like he’d tasted something sour in the air of a sudden. “Well, they are enough bonkers by default that any titillating ‘kookiness’ gets diluted out real fast. “

Not that he had the displeasure of venturing into one too often. Once a lad from a tiny farming village—

“ But aren’t you the expert on the matter. Wasn’t it some small town yourself was from? “

Monroe

The point about fresh air and smoking had him chuckling, but it was short-lived. An all too familiar past tense coloured what she told therein, doing away some of that easy air they’d had reign betwixt until now. His momentary silence that followed wasn’t exactly regretful, just—

Wary? Lest he stir up something further with his chronic lack of tact and ruin a day twice over.

” Plenty superstition where I’m from — ” He took a look about, scanning strange trees like he meant to find his home amidst them. ” The woods and the fields. Where the wild constantly comes to meet us and the winters are long. ”

A lot of staying indoors, cloistered in huts made dark by shuttered window holes and lack of candles. Watching the grain bags set about the rafters drain, the skitter of mice ever louder at night.

” There too people were fond of supposing enemies, an envious neighbour or some other, rather than admit chance coincidence. For that’d mean accepting a lack of control — and isn’t that the worst of all. ”

Fucking chaos.

Monroe

Naught new on the matter betwixt strangers and small towns, all the way to the admission of a rascal’s past. His head tilted as he eyed her askance, one brow arched in feigned disbelief. In truth, none of it was particularly hard to imagine. At all.

Plenty thing used to be trouble, hm?

“ And throw rocks, one should hope. I’ve been craving an impromptu batting practice. “ Both hands on the grip of an imaginary handle, he swung at the air mid-stride. “ Perhaps I will pluck one of them signs along on our way back. Lest I ruin a scabbard. “

It was threatening to sound like a plan. Save them both some miles on their feet, if luck will have it, and establish a healthy amount of mutual animosity with the townsfolk. I’ll sweat a little for the priviledge of never having to pass through here again.

“ We’ll see whether something doesn’t add up with our mark once we find him. “ A stranger unannounced. Unnamed too.

“ One has to suppose it is a matter of intuition, but did it ever become clear to you what was it about that– “ He shrugged. “ Traveling merchant that would’ve riled up the folk as you described? And if so sinister, why were they merely driven away? “

For things evil and awful, there were a whole host of more permanent solutions. Were they of flesh, that was.

Monroe