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Old 11-02-2003, 05:08 PM   #135
Ealasaide
Shadow of Tyrn Gorthad
 
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Join Date: Sep 2003
Location: The Fencing Lyst
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Sting

Benia

As Benia and Kaldir returned to where Gilly waited with the horses, just inside the cover of underbrush, Benia's mind churned. She had spent most of the afternoon deep in her own thoughts, riding when the bounty hunter said to ride, dismounting when he said to dismount. For the most part, since leaving the empty wine shop, she had been almost grateful for the veil. It had afforded her the privacy and isolation she needed to think. There were so many things she needed to think about, not the least of which was the bounty hunter himself.

He must be mad, she decided, dragging her and Gilly on this fool's errand of pursuing Sauron's own Ravenner. And for what purpose? What could Naiore Dannan have possibly taken from him that would justify suicide? Or murder, if one included herself and Gilly into the equation. It was madness.

She was still turning this thought over as she and the bounty hunter scrambled back down the steep path to where they had left Gilly. She had seen the bloody ropes on the floor of the cave, and remembering the shackles that had bound her own wrists not twelve hours earlier, felt a flush of empathy for the individual who had worn them. The bounty hunter said that the blood likely belonged to Vanwe, the elven assistant to the stable master of the Forsaken Inn, but Benia found that hard to believe. What would a creature like Naiore want with little Vanwe? Vanwe, in the brief moments that Benia had interacted with her, had seemed so kind and vulnerable, so touchingly eager to please. The very idea that the slender elf might be the daughter of Naiore Dannan, she decided, must be further manifestation of the bounty hunter's delusions.

She wondered what Gilly thought of it all.

Remembering the dagger in her hand, Benia glanced down at it and tightened her grip around the hilt. Could she be quick enough to strike out at the bounty hunter? All her life she had been taught that madness was more to be pitied than censured, but if she could at least disable him, then perhaps she could not only save herself and Gilly, but save him from himself, as well. As though reading her thoughts, the bounty hunter closed his hand around hers that held the knife.

Holding her hand in an iron grip, he bent and laid his bow and arrow down on the ground beside him. Straightening, he raised Benia's hand with the knife in it up between them. With his free hand, he unsheathed the blade.

"What were you thinking, my lady?" he asked almost kindly, looking past the wickedly sharp blade at her face. "Would you strike at me?"

Gilly, who had been waiting anxiously by the horses, stirred to the side of them. She took a timid step forward and began to speak, but was shushed sharply by Kaldir. The hobbit closed her mouth again.

Benia studied the bounty hunter's ravaged face. The eyes seemed cold and determined, but clear. Sane. She hesitated and cast an anxious glance at Gilly.

"Well?" asked the bounty hunter. "I asked you a question."

When Benia still did not respond, the bounty hunter placed the point of her blade against the base of his throat, in the hollow just above the clasp of his cloak.

"Do it," he ordered her. His hand still held her hand and his gaze never wavered from her face. She saw a small bead of his blood appear, dark and glistening, at the tip of the dagger. Staring at it, she shook her head.

"No."

"Miss Benia..." whispered Gilly somewhere to the side of her, but Benia found herself unable to look away from the scarred face of the bounty hunter. It was clearly a test of some kind, but she couldn't tell what answer he was looking for. The one thing she knew was that she could not look into a man's eyes, mad or sane, and kill him in cold blood. She shook her head and tried to withdraw her hand from his grip.

Finally, he let it go. Without another glance at her, he stooped and picked up the bow and arrow from where he had laid them on the ground.

"Come, ladies," he said, taking up the reins of the gray horse. "We mustn't tarry any longer. They've gotten a good start on us." He slung the bow over his shoulder and cast a glance into the west where the sun hovered low on the horizon, like a fat spider, head down in her web. "We need to be well clear of Bree by night fall."

Benia, still speechless, stared first at the naked dagger in her hand, then at Gilly, who stared back, wide-eyed, her own knife ready in her hand. For a long moment, neither of them moved. Then, Benia startled as the sheath to her dagger landed on the ground at her feet.

"Move!" barked Kaldir.

Immediately, Benia bent and picked up the sheath, sliding the blade into it in a single motion. She and Gilly both hurried to mount their horses and follow as the bounty hunter led the way back down the path toward the more populated part of town. In her haste, Benia forgot to put on her veil, but the bounty hunter seemed absorbed in his own thoughts and made no comment. His eyes studied the ground as he walked, leading his horse by the reins.

They made directly for the Northern gate and, by the time dusk settled over them, they had left Bree and re-entered Chetwood. The tracks of five individuals - two elves, two men, and a hobbit - laid their course before them. Benia worried where those tracks would lead before it was all over.

[ November 03, 2003: Message edited by: Ealasaide ]
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