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Old 01-13-2004, 04:59 PM   #47
Ealasaide
Shadow of Tyrn Gorthad
 
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Sting

Airefalas watched as Mithadan headed off in the direction of the marketplace, accompanied by two of their three guards, on business of his own. He considered telling the third guard that he, too, had business elsewhere, anything to avoid returning to the palace, but the throbbing headache that had started in his temples as they were leaving the docks had worsened to a degree that he was beginning to get shooting pains behind his right eye. He figured that the day's oppressive heat was beginning to get to him, and, suddenly, the cool and shadow of the palace rooms didn't seem like such a bad idea after all. Even so, he felt no tremendous hurry to return there. He was just a bit dehydrated. That was all. There were none of the telltale chills of heat stroke. If he could just get out of the sun and have something to drink, he would be fine.

Turning slowly, he looked around the closed and shuttered buildings that lined the streets for a pub, or a wine shop, an inn, anything where he might seize a moment's respite from the sun. Behind him, the guard chuckled softly.

Echoing the words of another guard a short while earlier, Airefalas turned toward him. "You find something funny?"

"You northerners. You can't take the sun," answered the guard, slyly mimicking the squint Airefalas had acquired in his right eye from the pain of his headache.

Airefalas laughed despite his discomfort. "Come with me sometime to the north and we'll see how you do in the snow," he answered dryly. He nodded in the direction of a squat, but hospitable-looking building that stood by itself on a corner just ahead of them. A badly sun-beaten sign hung out front that looked terribly much like an inn's sign would look back in Gondor. "The Crescent Moon. What's that?"

"An inn for travelers." The guard looked nervously at the shuttered windows of the inn, then back up the hill toward the palace. Airefalas could tell he was anxious to get back there, but whether for reasons of his own or just to get Airefalas off of his hands, he wasn't sure. "You won't be needing a room," continued the guard. "You have rooms at the palace."

"It's not a room I'm after," quipped Airefalas, turning and beginning to walk in the direction of the inn. "They have a common room, don't they?"

The guard caught his arm. "We won't be stopping there."

Airefalas gave the guard's hand a sideways glance, then pulled his arm away. "Why not? Is it dangerous?"

"It could be for a Gondorian such as yourself. All manner of folk can be found in such a place. Some carry deep resentments."

Airefalas looked at the sign of the Crescent Moon, then back up the hill toward the palace. It looked like a very long way to go, uphill all the way. He decided that he would rather not do it without getting something to drink first. If he didn't, the headache might yet develop into a heat stroke. Besides, there still remained a lot of time to kill before the banquet in the evening. He looked back at the guard.

"Raal, is it?" he asked. When the guard nodded, he continued. "Am I under arrest?"

"No." Raal shook his head. "You know very well that I am only here to protect you."

"Excellent!" Airefalas grinned. "Then protect me. We're going to the inn." A few short steps took him to the door of the inn, which he opened and entered cautiously, followed by the reluctant guard. In the cool semi-darkness of the inn's common room, his headache instantly began to abate. It took a moment for Airefalas' eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight, but when they did, he saw that the common room was completely deserted aside from the sleepy-looking innkeeper who sat polishing glasses beside the bar. The innkeeper looked up at the entrance of the two visitors, but, upon seeing them, showed no sign of interest or curiosity at all, returning at once to his chore of polishing the glasses.

Airefalas approached him and ordered a pint of beer, offering one to the guard, as well, who declined. Once the innkeeper had handed it over and been paid, Airefalas took his beer to a table near the door. It was an Umbarian brew, pale and rather watery in Airefalas' opinion, but superb under the circumstances. With the guard, Raal, standing impatiently at his elbow, Airefalas half-drained the glass on the first gulp. Then, he sighed and held the coolness of the glass against his face. Just a few minutes more and he would be ready for the trek back to the palace. He knew he should be there when Mithadan returned.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:27 PM January 20, 2004: Message edited by: Ealasaide ]
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