[Aylwen Dreamsong]

The second the prey was a safe distance away from their camp, Whisper leapt over to the makeshift grave they had given Joal. Whisper dug her dagger into the ground at what she assumed was the head of the grave plot, though could’ve been where Joal’s feet had been placed, or for all Whisper knew, the cruel killers could’ve just dumped his crumpled body into the hole. Despite, Whisper dug the dagger in, and found the rope Joal had always carried around and grabbed it from its discarded spot near a tree. Whisper wound it around the knife and left it there.

The reality had only just begun to set in for Whisper…that her partner in crime (literally) Joal was dead and gone. Gone to wherever Eru sent the spirits of humans, and in Joal’s case, very young humans. Joal had only been thirteen! He did not really know what he was getting into when he went to kill the man, their prey. Still, the axe man had given Joal a cruel, but swift death as reward for his attempt at murder. Whisper did not fully realize how much Joal’s death affected her until a sneaky sob escaped the girl. Whisper couldn’t help it. The companion she had known for four years was gone, never to return. Joal taught her all she knew, and he had only been nine. Whisper couldn’t see how anyone could blame him; it was a hard life easterlings had to live, full of death and loneliness. Joal could not help what fate had given him.

Whisper had never let herself cry, but this was the exception. After long minutes by Joal’s dirt grave, Whisper convinced herself that Joal’s death could not hurt her unless she let it. She also convinced herself that it was only right that she take revenge on Joal’s killer. It would not be hard either, as long as both Joal’s killer and the man Whisper had been hired to assassinate were traveling together. She admitted to herself that it would be tough, and she knew she’d need help. Whisper resolved to head a bit north to an Inn she knew of, and get help from acquaintances. She’d have to pay though…

~*~

“Hallo there! Welcome to the Second Chances Inn! What can I get ya, deary?” A short, plump woman with hair the color of mud waddled up to Whisper as she crept into the inn. The woman put one hand on her hip as the other held a tray full of beer mugs, and both empty and full, as well as half-full and spilled.

“Nothing for me, thanks, only here to take a rest.” Whisper replied, throwing a friendly glance back at the jolly owner of the inn. Whisper glanced about the bar, and after realizing the people she’d hoped to meet were not there she searched for the innkeeper. When Whisper found the woman, she asked her where she might find a group of about five or six men who had come from a village just north of Minas Tirith.

“They may have signed in under the name of ‘Ormand’,” Whisper added hurriedly, hoping not to lose too much time.

“Ah yes! I ‘member them folks. Came in ‘ere just fore yesterday evening. If you wan’ ter know which room they sleeping in, it’s upstairs, first on the left. You sure you don’t wan’ ter have a drink o’ something there, child?” The woman smiled, and Whisper noticed that the woman had few teeth. Whisper thanked the woman, politely refused further service, and made her way up the stairwell. Coming to the first door on the left, Whisper leaned against the door, listening. She heard laughing, joking, yelling, and everything else associated with drunken men. Stifling a laugh, Whisper hardly bothered to listen any longer. Before she knew it, the door was pulled open, and Whisper was on the floor. She looked up to the stares of six men, one of which was standing right above her.

“Tavari? Is that you? Where’ve you been?” The man above her asked in a booming, gruff voice. Whisper jumped up, and if she realized that her head came to about the man’s shoulder, she didn’t show it. “Where’s Joal? Don’t he still follow you everywhere?”

“Joal um, you see, Joal…erm, Joal just hasn’t been around lately,” Whisper stuttered out the words, and all the men in the room made the shape of an ‘o’ with their lips.

“Then to what do we owe this…pleasant surprise?” A man in the corner spoke. His deep, baritone voice was louder than the first man’s.

“Well, I need a little help. See, I’m tracking these two men and since Joal isn’t with me, it might be a little easier if I had help,” Whisper walked further into the room as she spoke, and took a seat next to someone of the Ormand group she had not met before.

“Oh, don’t mind Jorgen, he’s new. We found him a few weeks ago. Says he can read and write,” bragged the leader of the group, Akir. Whisper rolled her eyes. Anyone with half a brain can learn how to read and write, she thought. “Tavari, you know we’re always there to help a friend. Of course, you know we’ve got to eat somehow. People don’t give away food and rooms for free. We’d be willing to help, if perhaps there were something in it for us…”

Whisper sighed. She knew that would come sooner or later. Grabbing her little money purse from the folds of her pocket, she turned away from the group and considered how much she had. Just enough, or just not enough, to get these guys to help. Whisper cursed her inability to use her payments wisely, and turned back towards the group.

“What if I got three of you to help? How much?” Whisper asked, and the men immediately gathered in a circle to discuss. When they were done with their frenzied whispers, they faced the assassin.

“We’ll let you take Jorgen, and Seshan. You’ve got to let us have that bag of jewels you got there, though,” was the final decision. Whisper was inwardly outraged. Whisper could pay for the help of all of the men for the money she had, and two wouldn’t be worth what they were asking for.

“I’ll give you three gems and a necklace,” Whisper returned cautiously. The men debated again, and turned back to her. They raised the sum to five gems, a necklace, and a ring if she had one. Whisper frowned. She only had four gems.

“Take my first offer, or leave it,” she replied firmly.

“Unless I am mistaken, is it not you who need our help? Why should you decide the price? Correct me if I’m in the wrong but, we are in control of the payment.” Akir retorted, and two of the men drew daggers.

“There’s no need to get physical here, boys,” came a small voice, from the new man called Jorgen. “Let’s go, Seshan and Jair. Girl, give em’ that sack of money you got there and let’s be off. Or you can just leave. Whichever you prefer.”

Whisper rolled her eyes again, and threw the sack of money to the ground. Turning on her heals se left the room, Seshan and Jorgen following her. Jair sprang from the group, saluted the leader of the gang mockingly, and ran after the other three. With a hearty farewell from the innkeeper, the four left the Second Chances Inn. Returning to the road, Whisper was bombarded with questions.

“How long ago did you see them?” Jorgen asked, for he was the one who would be helping with the tracking. Whisper could follow directions, but following tracks was a different story entirely. Looking into the night sky and judging it to be just before midnight, Whisper remembered the last time she saw the group.

“I saw them this morning, but I haven’t seen them all day,” Whisper replied as they traveled down the side of the pathway, in case they needed to hide easily. Whisper’s only fear while traveling with the men was the higher risk of getting caught, since doubtless the men were not as agile as the assassin. Jair was practically a walking band with all his clanking weapons.

“If you’re only tracking these two men, why do you need help from Jair and me?” Seshan asked next, and his gaze wandered towards his blade, and then to Whisper, who was weaponless, save for perhaps her short staff, since she had left her dagger at Joal’s grave.

“I fight with my hands and a dagger, I’m not much good with swords,” Whisper answered grimly. “Besides…I don’t track people just for the hell of it.” The men knew what Whisper did for a living, and nodded. They’d be doing some fighting along this journey, they thought.

“Do you know which way they’re headed?” Jair spoke up.

“They’re following someone, kind of like we’re following them. They were going to Cambere to find someone called Deriath. Any of that ring a bell?”

“I know where they’re going,” Jorgen admitted, and silence fell over the company after that.

They traveled through the hours of the early morning, and continued on at a fast pace during the day. Few times did they run into anyone going down the road, and even then, no questions were asked. Through the day they went on, following the directions of Jorgen. They rested enough times to get Whisper edgy about losing the trail, but every time Whisper went to complain about going on the men would get up, stretch, and wonder why Whisper wasn’t in such a hurry. That night they took a longer rest, and stopped traveling altogether for almost four hours. At almost daybreak the group started their journey again, making for Cambere, and hoping to get there by a little while after midnight.