'Tired' didn't begin to describe Merrin's state of beleaguered exhaustion. Reluctantly she turned at Garthag's statement, agreeing against her will that none of them would make it much further without rest. Not here, though - the main merchants' road was no place to camp in any situation.

"Aye, we should stop," she managed to agree, rubbing her eyes with the heels of both hands. A sense of loss made her stomach feel hollow - she was so accustomed to camping with a reassuringly solid Wyvern by her side. The knowledge that she was too drained to feel anything but empty loss was another indicator of how tired Merrin really was.

Even in her haze of fatigue Merrin couldn't help but notice what looked like quite a bit more than a scratch on Garthag's part. She hesitated before offering help - he seemed to have a rather low opinion of her and if the feeling was not entirely mutual, it came close. "Tomorrow we'll go," she mumbled, venturing a little ways into the comfortingly close-set trees and nearly stumbling in her exhaustion. 'Tomorrow' was perhaps not the most accurate term - the pale rays of sun creeping over the mountains, nearly obscured by smoke, indicated that it was early morning rather than night now.

_________________

Kendath couldn't object to rest, though neither could he object to simply leaving Garthag behind. Vengeance was not a trustworthy motivation, even if the wizard could cast no spells higher than apprentice level. This very reason was, without a doubt, the only reason Garthag was still with them.

They stumbled to the side of the road, into the shelter of the trees. He volunteered for first shift, and although he meant to stay awake his entire turn, he found his resolve slipping away. His head throbbed, as though something had set it on fire... strange he'd felt cold only a moment ago... The bed of pine needles beckoned him. His last coherent thought was reflecting that he'd forgotten to say good-night to Gyre...

-----

It was only after noon the next day, upon reaching a small town called Ashdale, that Kendath came to terms with a certain problem. The town was a quiet place stationed at the bottom of a secluded valley. It looked a likely stop for trader caravans and Renegade dragonriders. They had were just nearing a copse of trees on the valley floor, when he had the presence of mind to check his coin pouch.

His fingers groped around the leather pouch for a bit and contacted one hard surface. A single copper. Enough to buy them an egg from the farmer's wife, but a few silvers lacking of their needed supplies. Just a few.

He glanced at his companions and opined dryly, "We need three horses, provisions, and a night at an inn. I'm not feeling very wealthy at the moment."

_________________

Merrin had lost her rapier, but her stay in the Meiltha camp had been brief enough that she retained the small store of coins in her own pouch that hung beside its empty sheath. Without a return to Vryngard they had not been replenished, but she extracted a rather more helpful five silver coins and a few more coppers besides.

“I don’t think it’s enough for horses and food and an inn all together,” she opined tentatively, looking at the mix of coins in her palm, but evinced a rather wan, tired smile anyway. It felt alien, strange, as though she shouldn’t be smiling considering the sobering events of late. Without thinking Merrin reached for Wyvern’s consciousness and felt again the empty hollow in her stomach when it wasn’t there. The smile didn’t stay very long. “I don’t mind sleeping outside,” she said, emptying the coins into his palms. “Horses and food are more important in any case.”

Truth be told, she’d been so tired the night before that pine needles had felt like a feather mattress – exhausted enough to drop almost instantly into sleep without dreams. Fortunate, for her. Merrin’s dreams could not have promised to be pleasant.

_________________

(sorry, the comp broke)

As they entered the village Evlyn ermged coming the other way. She'd done her fair share in the battle always at Kendath's back; some might say in a suicidal way; and they might have been corrrect.

She'd then proceeded to watch over Kendath from a distance while he slept, and had then fled when he'd found Merrin once more. Now she'd been wandering through the wilderness for two days now, debateing with herself on two courses of action. One; to simply fall on her blade or two; to carry on in her new position on Kendath's serf.

As soon as she saw them she drew her sword and layed it down in front of her, kneeling, her head touching the earth, she waited for them.

_________________

Made by Lembas

"Food and drink...."

Garthag murmured with his eyes closed and chuckled afterwards at the thought, he had used to live in hunger as a young boy sometimes being forced to beg for food from the `nice` townsfolk. How pointless things those seemed to him right now, he needed a healer more than anything at the moment and time, neither of which were available.

"Such basic and annoying needs of us, weakling humans..."

Garthag commented with a grin on his face due to the slight pain he was experiencing as he moved his leg into a better position..

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

Kendath counted the coins in his palm, then recounted them on some shred of desperation. One horse, perhaps not even that. On the bright side, five silvers could always guarantee them an irate mule.

"Have you ever been a mercenary before?" he asked, dumping the coins back into her hand. He eyed the town of Ashdale below them, took in the curling smoke from the cooking fires and the sounds of playing children. The place didn't look promising. The best paid jobs were usually found in large cities, where a single sitting in a disreputable tavern could find a resourceful assassin all the employers he may or may not need.

With a grimace, he recalled a perilous job he'd snagged in a village not unlike this one. The rooster in the old woman's front yard had nearly taken his head off.

Halfway down the valley's lush slope, he stopped dead. Was that Evlyn? What was she...? "You followed us," he deadpanned, nearing her position.

_________________

"No I didn't, if i'd followed you i would be behind you and i wouldn't have shown myself" she countered "I left and then came to find you. I'v done that, and now I am greeting my master in the correct attitude of a serf." she added humbely, eyes returning to the ground.

_________________

Made by Lembas

A number of reactions popped to mind. Firstly, a profuse bout of swearing. Secondly, a reach for his falchion. And thirdly, simply walking away.

In a generous act of compromising, Kendath decided to do all three. "Damnation. What in hell made you think I need a bodyguard?" He entertained the thought of gutting her then and there, before thinking better of it and simply walking away. His thoughts reeled. Who was Evlyn? What had she become?

What had he made her become?

His strides lengthened, taking him down the valley slope and towards the town at an accelerated pace. His jaw remained tightly clenched the entire time. At last he simply relegated those thoughts to the back of his mind. Evlyn as his serf. Lord Kendath. Just what he needed.

"We'll make a stop at the town square," he shot over his shoulder, at Merrin and Garthag. If their nonexistent luck held, they might find an old lady who lost her cat. On second thought, perhaps he preferred a simple elimination of persona.

_________________

Merrin watched this interaction in utter bewilderment, and stared after Kendath with a decidedly bemused expresson before hesitating with one look at the prone Evlyn and running to catch up.

"Kendath - what - ?" she said helplessly, managing to catch his arm and halt him enough to look anxiously up. Meeting his rather set expresson did nothing for her confusion. "What's Evlyn doing here? And why - ?" Why is she acting so - strangely? Merrin had never liked Evlyn - quite the opposite - but this was such a conundrum that she quite forgot her animosity.

_________________

Evlyn raised her head and watched him stalk off down the valley, before permitting herself a small smile. She knew he wouldn't like it.

She stood up, brushing the dirt from her and sheathed her sword before following them down the valley.

At a safe distance.

_________________

Made by Lembas

"She must be bored," Kendath replied laconically, his expression still determinedly closed. His stare was firmly locked on the road into Ashdale that stretched before them - a not quite subtle indication that this exchange was over.

A few townsfolk glanced up from their chores as they walked past. Some - small children mostly - noticed Merrin's silver dragonrider cloak and waved. It wasn't market day today, and the town square was dotted with empty stalls. They passed the tavern, and one of the posters on the door instantly caught Kendath's attention.

An official looking notice, issued by a Lord Feldwar. Archery competition... noble feast... some lady-in-waiting looking for her pet hamster... Ah, there we are.

Bounty hunt! Calling all able warriors! Reward: 300 gold. See His Royal Highness, Prince Feldwar of Amarinth.

Three hundred gold. Enough to guarantee ten horses, plus an irate mule. He glanced at Merrin and Garthag. "I hope no one here shies from a head rolling across the ground."

_________________

Evlyn came up and stood with them. Haveing had decided that Kendath would not kill her. She debated with herself wheather to start calling him 'my lord' now or later in any possible confrontations, and decided to stick with 'master' for the moment.

For the new Evlyn, to think was to do. She'd tricked him into her surfdom on a wime and now "Will you be entering master?" she asked innocently.

_________________

Made by Lembas

"No," said Merrin sharply. By the time she had finished scanning the notice she looked unfortunately quite opposed to a head rolling, money or no. "There has to be another way," she objected. "I mean - we're not - " she broke off, biting her lip. The truth was, she was most likely the only one of the three - four? - who was unwilling to compromise honor in order to obtain funds, needed or no. "We can't," she finally ended up with, giving Kendath a beseeching look.

It was true that three hundred gold could buy them more horses than they would ever need, by Merrin couldn't come to terms with that over the fact that to obtain said gold, someone would likely end up dead. One more glance at the notice and she stepped away, shaking her head. "No. We'll have to find money some other way."

_________________

The appearance of Evlyn was most unexpected and yet somewhat amusing as Garthag could remember leaving behind Semri, that worthless wench sister of Evlyn`s. Garthag listened to them quietly and gazed at the official notice, then at Kendath quietly.

"Ah yes the great Merrin with her unquestionable morals, I cannot kill for money, it would be so wrong eh?" Garthag mocked her and he had to admit that in a while it felt darn good to use his words as his weapons "Why not sell Evlyn?" Garthag inquired all of the sudden with a clever smirk on his face. "She`d make a fine money, she is a wench like her sister after all and some dirty idiot in this pesky village would just pay enough to have her as his own personal play thing. You Kendath are indeed as she quite conveniently put it, her master and you wouldn`t want to hurt Merrin`s feelings now would you?"

Garthag said with an amused face as Merrin had opposed the idea of bounty hunting.

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

Dislike of Evlyn or no, Merrin found Garthag's suggestion possibly more unappetizing than Kendaths. "It would be wrong," she found herself saying defensively, shrinking a little from their combined - and rather nonplussed - gazes. "There are other ways to get what we need without someone having to - without - without this."

What other ways?

Merrin couldn't think of a single one - but that didn't mean this was the only course of action. She folded her arms. She could be just as stubborn as they, albeit that the word could seldom be used to describe her. And what was Evlyn doing? Merrin couldn't fathom what on earth she could be trying to do - what was all this about 'master' and 'serfdom'?

_________________

"My master is perfectly entiteled to sell me if he wishes" answered Evlyn evenly "However he would still be my master, i made a vow witch he accepted. Anyone who stopped me from fufilling that vow would die" she stated coldly.

Inwardly she was fumeing. How dare he compare her to Semri. Semri was a blood traitor and a backstabbing bicth. She conveinetly chose to ignore the number of people she had betrayed and the fact she was now a traitor to the Meiltha. She was Nothing like Semri, and she was not some 'sex toy' to be used and disgarded like some old cooking pot.

No, she was Evlyn.

_________________

Made by Lembas