[Ransom]

In part because of the difficulties caused by her inability to talk, Mara had always preferred the company of Barak. He was the only person in Middle Earth that understood her various moods, and probably the only person in Gondor who understood her history well enough to comfort her. The knight knew well enough to buy her exactly what she wanted for her birthday. No small feat, considering she had never dropped him any hints in writing. This relationship didn’t only benefit Mara, though. Because he was certain of her loyalty, Barak had shared many of his fears and dreams with her. She had watched as he had sat awake long after midnight, a glass of wine in hand, reminiscing over the times he had spent with a slain comrade. It had been the first time she had ever seen him cry.

While the thick gray clouds still obscured the sun, a gradual change of shading seemed to indicate that it was nearly noon. The white expanse of the Pelennor fields had given way to thin forests on the right side of the road. Mara could see number of small farms on the left side of the road. Without doubt, the murders could not have occurred here. No errand rider rode at night, and the farmers would probably have raised the alarm in case of an attack. Pulling next to the silent Barak, she began to search the woods for any signs of life. Unlike Barak, who often had to engage in the bothersome activity of talking, she could focus solely on watching for any hidden ambusher. As if on cue, she caught sight of a figure wrapped in an old, brown cloak to the right. Quickly bringing her mount to a halt, she leapt off into the four inches of snow that had collected on the road. Pluffy, her cat, was surprised at the sudden changes in its mistress’s directions and jumped out of Mara’s hood with an angry yowl.

Barak quickly drew his axe before turning back to the other. “Halt and weapons out.”

Whatever the identity of the cloaked figure, Mara was fairly sure it was incredibly stupid or incredibility smart. She crouched low and silently drew her Schlaeger before creeping toward the stump. In a sudden burst of speed, she jumped to the side of the stump and extended the weapon in front of her. The figure yelped in fright as it suddenly realized that it was trapped between a sharp blade and the tree trunk.

“Don’t ‘urt me, please! I ain’t got no money.”

Barak peered over the stump from the back of his warhorse. “It’s alright, Mara. You’re the innkeeper’s son, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir. ‘twas just enjoying the snow, sir. Pap had to go ‘cross town and ma said ol’ Thom could play in the forest, sir”

In his years of service, Barak had learned that the numbers of sirs in a sentence increased with the amount of unease experienced. The knight nodded at Mara before loudly sheathing his axe. “You can put your blade away now. No need to skewer the boy. Why was your father traveling across town in the snow?”

“One o’ the farmers sent ‘is boy over to da inn. Said he’d found one of pap’s horses wanderin’ through the field without da rider.”

Mara glanced at Barak curiously as she returned her blade to its sheath. Could the errand rider’s mount have returned to its home stable after its rider was killed?

Chuckling in feigned amusement, the knight tossed a small gold coin to the boy. “Run ahead and tell your mother that there will be ten guests for the noon meal. A private room if one’s open.”

Waiting until the boy was out of earshot, Barak turned to the rest of the group. “Well, that changes things quite a bit. We’ll eat the midday meal at the inn before riding to the next town. If no one saw the riders there, we know that they were killed around here. Now let’s move. The quicker, the sooner we’re out of the snow.”

[ May 18, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]