6
"So. Tell me this again, Targ."
Gailen's bunk expelled tufts of dry rot at his every shift of weight. Targ's watch-chair now sat near to the worn bed, relocated after Alena determined it too awkward to speak to each other from separate ends of the room.
"I was looking out the sage's room window, and I saw what looked like the entire village inside a hole in the ground."
Targ glanced over to judge Alena's reaction, but she had paid little mind to the entire conversation since she'd found the three books Targ had picked up.
"And that's when the old sage contacted you?"
"Gailen...we've been over this a dozen times," Targ sighed, "I don't know how he got in here. Maybe...he hid in his room."
Gailen shook his head. "The whole thing is just weird, Targ. I'm just confused how he snuck up on us."
"You two..." Alena sighed, lifting her eyes from her book. "What does it matter, if we're leaving this place?"
"We're not leaving until the sun is up, Alena, and that could still be some time." Gailen replied. "'Til then, we need to be ready for anything."
"We could go check on the villagers?" Targ suggested.
"No, I don't think so." Gailen stood and walked over to the window, deep in thought."If They were here, it might still be dangerous to go out. The villagers sounded like they were all killed, Targ." He shook his head and waved a hand. "No, our best bet is to get to the Council and warn everyone."
"Have either of you looked at these books?" Alena asked, "No? Well they're really interesting."
Gailen walked over to where Alena sat, casually brushing dust from his clothes as he went."I thought," Gailen said, "that our time would be better served preparing our defenses and escape."
Alena took a deep breath."Must I point out the obvious?" She said, "if they knew we were here, then we wouldn't be preparing our defenses, and if they attack we would just do as we did last time."
She tossed a stray lock of hair over her shoulder. "Besides, these books could be useful, and we could use any help we can get."
"What's in the books, Alena?" Targ asked, to forestall the argument he saw coming in Gailen's expression.
Alena's eyes twinkled as she answered him. "One of them appears to be a story of an old nurse, and how she helped people using her knowledge of herbs and such. The other is about Will the Tamer."
"Will the Tamer?" Gailen growled."That story is all played out. No one uses it anymore."
Alena closed the gray book she had been reading,"And why is that?" She asked, in a condescending voice.
Gailen paused for a second, as if considering her question. "I don't know why Alena. The last I heard, it was frowned upon."
"You sound like those silly, immature apprentices at the Councils, that pick on all the old stories simply because they aren't flashy enough for them." Her expression flickered briefly sour, before turning cold. "Well. I think we could use some help, so I am going to study it. I would suggest you do as well, unless you have some combat story we don't know of."
Gailen looked put off by her suggestion, as if he were scrambling for something to say in return.
However, Targ thought it was important to avoid conflict at this point. "What about the black book?"
Both the gray books sat open on Alena's lap, clearly in use. The black one, however, sat alone on the bed beside her. Alena's expression twisted to one of distaste as she glanced up at it. Gailen, too, seemed to frown at it.
"Is there something wrong with it?" Targ asked.
Alena picked the ebony book up gingerly, her expression unchanged. She flipped through a few pages, before shaking her head in disgust, and tossing it back down.
"People die in it," her words were carefully measured, as if she found it difficult to speak them."It's the most horrid thing I've ever read-or almost read." She swallowed, and grimaced. "It's a story about the most obscene things. No one should have to read of such things."
"'Evil' would be putting a lightly," Gailen chipped in.
"I don't understand," Targ responded.
"Targ...this story is about a man who kills people. Stories aren't like that," Alena said, "at least, I've never heard of one like it."
"Nor I," Gailen affirmed.
"So you're saying," Targ asked, "no one dies in your stories?"
"Well, sometimes great beasts needed to be put down, and occasionally men died in wars and sickness." Gailen answered.
"But murder?" Alena interjected, "never. Stories are meant to be cheerful, instructive, useful, and moral."
Silence filled the room after that. Targ slept on and off, while Gailen stood by the window, periodically disappearing out the door, and down the hall. Alena would pause whenever Gailen would leave, quietly tensing and then relaxing when he would return. Targ wasn't sure when dawn arrived; one moment it was dark, and the next he was woken from sleep, while Alena packed the few things they had scavenged from the inn.
Gailen and Alena argued over whether the black book was too dangerous to remain behind, or too dangerous to bring with. Eventually, Gailen won out, and Alena reluctantly packed it away.
"Only as long as it goes to the Council," she argued.
Gailen merely nodded, but flashed a concealed smile at Targ when he thought she wasn't paying attention.
Birds chirped in the trees around the three of them as they made their way through the woods just outside the village. Gailen and Alena spent several minutes arguing over his becoming feral. In the end Gailen lost, and Targ could see he wasn't happy about it, although he did not quite stoop to sulking. To make the situation more miserable, Gailen insisted that open roads would leave them too easily tracked, and rejected Alena's suggestion that they follow the road leaving the village. Instead, they now trekked through hard, untamed woods in a similar direction as the road. Undergrowth and trees seemed to obstruct their progress every agonizing mile.
Well, at least we're not running, Targ thought.
"Alena, this would be safer and faster if you'd just let me scout ahead in feral."
Targ made an exasperated sound. "Here we go again.".
"Gailen," Alena started, "I think we all have had enough of your whining. There's no need to endanger yourself, we are perfectly fine for the moment."
Gailen turned and headed deeper into the forest before she was even half finished with her answer.
The sun was all but gone when they came upon another road. Wheel ruts filled the dirt road as it stretched East and West, and the woods abruptly stopped at the road's edge. Small bushes and only a handful of pine seemed to litter the opposite side of the road. The road they were tracking appeared to be in the East some distance down the road.
"Look over there," Gailen pointed at the other road. "Seems we didn't wander too far from it."
"Please tell me we are done hiking through the woods," Targ said.
"Well, we do need to follow this road West," Alena interjected.
"Apparently you're the boss, Alena," Gailen said sharply.
Alena's eyes narrowed as she turned and considered Gailen.
"Well, if I'm the boss, then I say we camp here and head out in the morning."
"In that case, I'll get us some wood and growth." Gailen was gone before Alena could respond.
"Ooh that man makes me so..." she started, but then caught herself.
"Targ, lets find a nice clearing for ourselves tonight."
Targ watched her head off in the opposite direction that Gailen went. For a moment, he wondered who he should follow. He gave a wry smile and a shake of his head, as Alena marched onward without a single glance backward. Clearly, he had no choice in the matter. With a final glance in the direction Gailen vanished, he headed off after Alena.
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