[Nevtalathiel]

*****DALE-Girion*****

Girion trailed behind his companions as they sorted out their gear into places on the boat. Across the small crapped room which hey were sharing Rubin gave him a quizical look, as if to ask whether his leg was troubling him, but he shook his head. His leg was not hurting at the moment, it was his pride which was causing him grief.

He felt humilated. He had been made to look like a fool in front of his peers. If he had had time to ask one of his father's advisers he would have done, but he had been given such short notice he could not have been expected to do everything. He clenched his fist and hoped Bram, if he had spoken the name, he would have spat it, would keep out of his way during the trip down the river and would not attempt to prove himself better than a prince. Girion had previously taken it upon himself to show several people that he was indeed fit to be a prince, and Rubin would testify that both he and Girion had been elsewhere at the time.

Slowly and what he hoped was calmly, Girion unclenched his fist and let out a long breath. His father had never been pleased by his outbursts, and he did wish to show that one day he would be a suitable ruler. He bit his lip with determination and turned to help stow his things, aware once more of the sunshine outside the small window and the ever present babble and rush of the river.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Nevtalathiel ]