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Old 05-07-2004, 07:26 AM   #186
mark12_30
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Ravion's troop in Anorien, Dec. 18: Mellonin

Mellonin sheathed her dagger, fighting with self-disgust, her neck and cheeks crimson. Not only had she been of no use, but she had clearly failed to fool either of these men as to her identity; they both dismissed her as a woman. What good was she?

Nearby, the cold and dripping Gwyllion had begun to whimper. Mellonin turned on her, but her eyes were fixed on Ravion, and at a sign from him, she bit her lip and the whimpering turned into sniffles. The moment gave Mellonin hope. Somehow in only two days, Ravion had begun to change the girl. Mellonin watched as silent tears rolled down Gwillion's quivering cheeks, but her eyes were fixed on Ravion and she did not make another noise.

The girl may be moonstruck, but she is no fool.

The two strangers waited while Ravion glared at them. Raefindan fetched the two cooking pots, refilled them in the river, and set them on the fire. Mellonin, rooted to the ground, felt her blush deepen. She had expected the merchant to die spitted on one of Raefindan's arrows, and the other to die at Ravion's sword. Yet no blood had been shed. Raefindan was shivering, wet to the ribs, and hospitable.

What a puzzling man.

She roused herself, and went forward to unpack more tea, beckoning Gwillion toward the fire as she did so. December! What a time to go for a swim, she thought. Gwillion stood by the fire, but soon she was shivering, as was Raefindan.

All but Ravion started as the brush moved on the hill. Jorje trotted toward them with a dead rabbit dangling from his mouth.

"Some watchdog you were, " chided Raefindan through chattering teeth, and Mellonin had to smile. Jorje eyed the strangers with suspicion, withdrew to a safe distance, and ate the rabbit.

Soon the tea was hot, and Raefindan brought a steaming cup to each of the strangers.

Then he turned to the merchant. "Let the lad sit by the fire, " said Raefindan.

"You jest," spat the merchant.

Ravion's eyes narrowed. "He will do as I bid. As for you: sicken one of my company at your own peril." Stepping forward, Ravion set the point of his blade within the circle of the neglected necklace, caught it up glittering, and slipped it back into his pocket. He was now face to face with the merchant.

"What--" said the merchant.

"This I will have as weregild for my servant til he is returned to me, " replied Ravion. "Take him to the fire."

"How dare you!" The merchant gave Aeron's arm another yank. Mellonin stood, indignant, and Raefindan groaned inwardly. The man-at-arms raised his blade again, but Ravion's blade was now at the merchant's throat. Everyone froze.

Last edited by mark12_30; 05-07-2004 at 08:10 AM.
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