[Ransom]

Mara loved cats. This love was not born of childish affection or a passing whim. The thin and wry redhead had obtained the black tabby she was now showering with affection shortly after her emancipation from slavery in Umbar. Even as she moved through the crowded inn, she blended into her surroundings like a passing wraith. The Gondorian woman’s skin was still deeply tanned, a testament to her earlier life. She paused for a moment to straighten her simple brown dress. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in her wardrobe, but it did have the most hidden pockets. She choose a unused table in the middle of the room and sat, waiting for her companion while making a great show of fussing over her appearance and fidgeting. Hopefully, any watching eyes would simply gloss over her as a local girl who was waiting for a friend.

It was only a few moments before her friend arrived. In the two years Mara had shared the hardship of the road with him, she had learned to notice Sir Barak Mindalel’s lean six foot five inch frame under any circumstance. In the interests of secrecy, the knight had left his partial plate mail and Lochaber axe in their room. The only thing that separated from the merchants and travelers that frequented the establishment was an ornate Haradrim saber. He made a show of ambling around the tavern before seating himself across from Mara. The knight bent looked around disapprovingly before leaning forward and whispering, “Do we have to dine here? There are too many people.”

However, Mara had other ideas. Her eyes grew wide while her upper lip quivered as if she would cry. She’d practiced this look for quite some time, and more than one man found himself too enraptured with her face to notice the sudden disappearance of certain personal objects. To the best of their combined knowledge, Mara hadn’t said a single word since her birth. It took only one glance before a sinking feeling began to grow in Barak’s stomach. He simply couldn’t bring himself to argue with her. “Oh, fine. Just this once.”

Ignoring Mara’s gloating grin, Barak rose to procure a meal. Completely ignoring the various alcoholic beverages, the knight procured two cups of strong tea before returning. “Dinner will be here in a moment, dear.”

The food in the inn was far better than average. The waiter arrived a few minutes with two bowls of stew and a loaf of bread. Barak took a tentative sip as his companion watched and waited a few moments. By virtue of the lack of uncomfortable feelings, the stew was probably poison free. Umbar had been a wonderful academy in survival, a place where failure was punished with death. Mara quickly ate her portion before settling back and scrutinizing the other patrons. As long as they were here, they might as well keep their senses alert for information.

[ February 24, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]