[Durelin]

The crunch of grass under a footstep made Snyd jump, and he immediately turned toward the sound, loosening his knife in its sheath. It had come from behind him, strangely enough. Could the residents of this cluster of houses, unworthy of the name 'village,' have seen them coming? That was near impossible, though the possibility of the group thieves plus an elf was unquestionably so. But what certainly wasn't impossible was the arrival of some of the elf's friends, finally, in Snyd's mind, catching up with them. It was unlikely any man could connect a band of outlaws with an elf, and a soldier, for that matter, but these were elves, people who lived forever. Snyd practically shook with both fear and anger, the anger directed entirely at Vlad. He would be sorry now. They'd all be dead, or worse yet, captured and hauled off to be judged by some high and might king somewhere. Knowing Snyd's luck, it would be a general rather than a king, the worst station of person to receive punishment from. And the elf would be able to take his revenge. That realization did cause him to shiver.

What emerged from the darkness made Snyd freeze, and he forced his body to calm. He snarled at Fidrohir, who raised an eyebrow at Snyd and his half-unsheathed belt knife. Finally the man went off silently around the farmhouse, staying close to the walls, and around it to where Vlad was; and the elf would be hiding somewhere, pretending the whole raid wasn't happening, along with Khalad, Snyd assumed. Only then did Snyd replace his belt knife firmly in its casing. He scowled into the darkness wondering how he could have forgotten about Fid. He remained motionless as Jaheira came up beside him noiselessly. There would be no more jumping at shadows tonight. A few moments passed, and Snyd began fingering his knife again, growing restless, staring straight ahead at the side of the house, but not seeing the wall before him.

"What are we waiting for?" he whispered, and it sounded loud in the deathly quiet of the night, especially to ears attuned to any sound, and bodies tense and ready to jump at that sound.

"An invitation, Snyd," Jaheira snapped back in an angry whisper that sounded a shout in comparison to Snyd's voice. "A polite greeting and warm welcome into these lovely villager's cozy little homes."

There was silence again for a moment, and then Jaheira sighed quietly; quietly, but she still managed to sound more than annoyed.

"Vlad's signal. We move in after they do, to pick up the slack."

"Well, yes," Snyd told her, doing his best to sound as exasperated as Jaheira. "But what is this signal going to be?"

"You'll know it when Vlad signals, Snyd, to be sure." She added the last as an afterthought, and Snyd didn't think he was meant to hear it. Suddenly a window glowed brightly in the darkness, a light lit inside.

"That's it." Jaheira made it sound like a harsh command.

"I'm still not sure if that could really be called a signal," he whispered to her back, as she was already moving toward the front door of the farmhouse. She answered him with a kick to his shin, and he limped quickly forward after her.

Standing by the front door of the house, one on each side, they stared at each other for a moment. Then Snyd leaned against the door to listen. He didn't quite put his ear up to it, and he found he would not have to. A loud thud came from inside, crashing through the silence of the night. Snyd almost jumped. The house was small and rickety, and a light footstep could have been heard from outside it. It seemed the thing would have creaked in a summer's breeze. "I expect we will have slack to pick up soon," Snyd said, drawing his belt knife. He and Jaheira stood there for another moment, this time staring at the door before them. All was silent inside the house, and out. Another moment passed, and Snyd glanced at Jaheira, who only shook her head slightly, showing that she was as confused as he.

Snyd tried the doorknob, hoping that perhaps luck was with him, but found the door locked. So he stepped back to let Jaheira in to do her work. The woman pulled out a series of tiny picks, some as small as needles. Perhaps they were needles, but Snyd could only wonder. With a loud click and an awful creak the door swung open, causing Snyd to wince. Jaheira glanced sourly back at him. She had looked quite pleased with herself, but it was obvious that she had caught his wince. "After you," Snyd murmured, which earned him another look, this one much more deadly than the first. As he followed Jaheira in, the floorboards groaning under his feet, he was almost immediately faced with a narrow hallway that might have led to some type of kitchen, and a small flight of stairs lay to his right. At the top of them were two doors. Light shone through the bottom of the door on the left, farther from the stairs.

This time Jaheira and Snyd didn't need to pass a look between them to know to begin cautiously to move up the stairs, Snyd in the lead. It felt wrong, Snyd knew, and he believed Jaheira did, too, but there was nothing else for it. If Vlad and Fid had run into trouble, they could catch whoever it was from behind, in an imperfect pincer movement. But if Vlad and Fid I found more than trouble, if they had failed to do any of their job... That was the oddest part of it all. Vlad, even with Fid, having problems overtaking a lone farmhouse; it was absurd, even Snyd know that. A louder creak of floorboards announced to Snyd that he had reached the top of the stairs. He looked at his knife before taking the few steps toward the second door. He stood against the wall just before it, and waited for Jaheira to go around to the other side of it, as she was quieter, with a lighter step. Still, the floorboards creaked only slightly less loud than they had under Snyd's seemingly heavy foot, and his heart pounded with every step. If Vlad and Fid had had trouble with this one, Jaheira and Snyd would have to surprise whoever was behind that door if they wanted any chance at all. Snyd shut his eyes for a moment, his heart beating like a drum at him in the darkness, disbelieving. This had all worked much better when there had been five of them with guts...before the 'capture' of the elf.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:06 PM January 26, 2004: Message edited by: Durelin ]