[Envinyatar]

Nuranar's post

The landlord evidently provided his more distinguished guests with better fare than the local folks rated. Even at this distance the untouched bread and cheese before the thin man at the bar did not look particularly appetizing. Tarondo decided he didn’t blame the man for attending more to them than to his meal. And yet . . .

Naturally the appearance of four Elves in Bree had not gone unnoticed, but this man was the only one who was still staring. Furthermore, it was not the vacant gaze of a slow-thinking rustic, but the observant watch of a very present intelligence. Tarondo could detect no hostility in his eyes, but neither did he have any intention of discussing their mission in front of all those open ears. And especially not before the character in the booth whose endeavors to hide had made him so conspicuous.

Thoronmir, the elder of the two Rangers who had been waiting for them, pushed back his plate with a sigh. “Very good,” he remarked approvingly. “A little slim on the mutton, but that is hardly surprising.” He looked meaningfully at Veryadan, then Tarondo, then back to the Ranger.

Tarondo nodded at him, then turned away slightly and called in a low, clear voice, “Mr. Butterbur.”

The heavy little man trotted hurriedly over from across the room. “Oh, sir, I hope, everything’s –”

“Everything is perfectly satisfactory,” Tarondo said firmly. He had no intention of allowing the flood to get underway. “Is there a room where we may speak in private?”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

A few minutes found the eight of them in a small room with a fire. There were a few chairs, but not enough, so Butterbur brought in a few more stools. “And if there’s anything more you need, just ring the bell on the table there, and I’ll come runnin’. Always a pleasure, anytime . . .”

Menecar shut the door on the burbling landlord and turned around with a grin. “Just like his father,” he said, shaking his head.

“I will close these,” Silrûth said, crossing to the window. Swiftly she swung the shutters to and barred out the night.

Luinien was looking quizzically, almost expectantly at Tarondo. Catching her eye, Tarondo glanced at the door and then back. “Would you be so kind?”

“Of course.” Luinien picked up a stool and set it down by the door. She eased it open, peered swiftly down the hall in both directions, and noiselessly re-closed it. Sitting on the stool, she leaned her head back against the doorjamb and winked at her brother. Her hand rested gently on the hilt of her dirk.

Nearly everyone else had found a seat, but Osric Falkur still stood in the middle of the floor, his brow furrowed. He glanced speculatively at Tarondo, then turned to Thoronmir. “Who is he? The twisted man hiding in the shadows?”

“Fen Shepherdspurse,” the Ranger replied. “One of the brigands who took cover under the Shadow in this area, and nearly the only one to have survived this long. We try to keep aware of him, but he is very sly and has no love for us.” He spoke quietly, a wry smile on his lips.

“And the other?” Aidwain leaned forward, his eyes glinting in the firelight. “The thin one, who watched us the entire evening?”

“That was only Andas Loudewater, a local farmer,” Menecar spoke up. “I expect he was taking refuge from that sharp-tongued termagant he is married to.” He paused, frowning. “Surely he could have nothing to do with any of this,” he said, a note of protest in his voice.

“That is not the issue, Menecar,” Veryadan interposed. “We have no reason to believe either Shepherdspurse or Loudewater of being involved in anything. At the same time, we are not going to assume they are not involved. Especially when both have showed particular interest in us.”

Tarondo nodded. “This is simply part of being aware.” He stood up and paced slowly across the floor. “The problem is, we don’t know what is going on, much less who is behind it. We are here to discover exactly what is happening and who the enemy is. Only then will we take action, if we can. The King gave us strict orders to keep as safe as possible. He would rather have a report on the trouble than our deaths proving that there is trouble.

“Thoronmir and Menecar, what can you tell us? We need specifics on these attacks, and the more recent the better. Right now, that is the place to start.”

Thoronmir nodded. “We have that. Four weeks ago, there was . . .” he paused. “If you have a map I can show you more clearly.”

“Here.” Veryadan rose and extracted his map case from the pile of their gear. He pulled out a roll of parchment and spread it out on the table where the lamp stood.

“This is marvelous!” Thoronmir said.

Veryadan smiled slightly. “It’s by way of being my vocation. Now, tell us when and where everything happened.”

The group gathered around the table as the Rangers recounted the incidents of theft, bloodshed and death that were terrorizing the country.