As promised, the second chapter of my NaNoWriMo project, Fires of Fortune. Part of this is actually from last year... so it is pretty long! Been meeting my daily word counts and it feels soooo good! ^-^ Especially as I am mostly doing it in 7pm-midnight sprints, lol. Not counting the notebook head starts I'm doing before I go in to work. It has been taking me awhile to get into my groove. Poor Lucas has been worried about me, mostly because he keeps catching me lying on my side staring into space vacantly.... but I am just formulating, really!
Anyways, now on to the feature presentation. (critiques and feedback are VERY welcome)
Head northwest, the Waykeeper had said, and then leave the road after a few miles. The man had even had the gall to grin and say it looked like it would be sunny, which should make for a fun walk! Sunny, ha! More like drizzle all morning long... which of course had made the path slippery. He had fallen twice already. Sprinting most of the time probably was not helping with that. And leaving the road? Did not help much. Drippy leaves, and there were bugs. Fat, buzzy, biting bugs in little swarms that danced around his head and flew into his nose, or his mouth. Blech!
Fun? No, Marquis was definitely not having fun. What was he doing out here anyways? Mucking around and crashing through the underbrush... Already his clothes had been repeatedly snagged and he had tripped over at least three different tree roots. The third time he actually fell, smacking into a low tree branch. Or maybe the blasted thing had been a bush; he was not too sure. All he knew was that he could still taste leaves. He ran his tongue over his teeth contemplatively, wondering if perhaps some bits had gotten stuck there.
And for what was he going to all of this trouble? Just to find some crazy girl who would just as soon turn him into a smoldering ash pile as look at him? Did he really need some Minions that badly? Marquis sighed and kicked out at a random bush, sending drops of water flying in every direction. The truthful answer was yes. Yes, he did need Minions, lots of them, quite desperately in fact. It was either that, or somehow come up with some crazy offensive magic that would blow the judges away… literally would work best. Otherwise he could never go home.
Maybe he should just give up entirely, go and live a quiet life in Luatha Capital. Perhaps as a scholar or something? At least a circle of scholars would appreciate his gift, unlike them. He pushed another low hanging branch out of his way contemptuously, only to have it swing back and smack him in the side of the head a few seconds later. It caught him off balance and nearly knocked him over. And it hurt! Ye’gads, had the thing cracked his skull?
Marquis sank to the damp, twig and burr infested ground for a moment, rubbing the back of his poor head and cursing all trees as he did so. Giving up was starting to look pretty good actually. The only problem was, well, he was no longer sure which way led back to the road. Nor had he thought to leave any trail markers, being so sure that he would catch up to Fae fairly quickly.
Wait a minute; perhaps he had marked his way after all! He was definitely no woodsman, but all that crashing and thrashing had to have left a glaringly obvious trail, had it not? Pausing in his ministrations, Marquis took a quick, expectant look around. Yet it seemed as if every injured limb or crushed clump of grass had sprung right back up in the wake of his passing. He had heard that living in the north made one tough, but this was just ridiculous!
So then, it seemed his choices came down to blundering about without any sense of direction in hopes of finding the road, or blundering about without any sense of direction in hopes of finding Fae. Not exactly promising.
With a small sigh, Marquis pushed himself to his feet once more. Nothing for it, he would just have to keep pushing forward. At least the drizzling had stopped. And you never knew, Fae could be just a few yards beyond the tall bushes to his left!
On such an uplifting mental note, the irrepressible young wayfarer squared his shoulders, aimed himself to the left, and set out to continue his path finding struggle with the forest. He had taken no more that three steps however, before his foot lodged against a fourth tree root. Completely unprepared, although in retrospect he realized that he ought to have seen it coming, Marquis quickly found himself tumbling through the willowy screen of bushes he had appraised with such optimism a few moments before.
It took an unexpectedly long time for him to hit the ground. The reason for this became apparent when landing did not automatically stop his forward momentum. It seemed the contours of the land formed a sudden slope just this side of the bushes. Marquis had just enough time to think, but of course… before his slide turned into a rolling, out of control descent down the hill’s rain slicked surface.
In the end, the poor man rather resembled the big dogwood that finally sapped the inertia from him: soaked, covered in twigs and leaves, and somewhat green-brown in coloration, although in Marquis’ case it came of being plastered with mud rather than bark He would have preferred bark. It would have been much better protection than his torn clothing.
Ugh, if only the world would stop spinning a moment! He could swear he heard giggling, or was that humming? Oh no, perhaps he had hit his head somewhere on the way down. He did not feel nauseous… Well, okay a little nauseous, but was that from a head injury or all the spinning?
The dogwood bush rustled chaotically as Marquis struggled out of its center. Once upright, he spat out an assortment of leaves and groaned in mild agony, hands clapped to the side of his head to keep it in place. This was so not his day.
“Oh THERE you are!”
Quite startled by this cheery voice out of nowhere, Marquis nearly fell back into dogwood. No, it could not be. Yet when he was able to sight around he almost immediately spotted a blurry black and tan blob with smaller black blobs waving on the end. This, as his vision cleared, turned into a familiar tan figure in a short black dress, and little black boots. Fae indeed.
As he looked, she waved him over to the fallen tree on which she sat, apparently enjoying her lunch. Marquis stumbled a bit as he made his way over. His head was clearing a little more with each step, directly proportional to the heat rising in his face and the depth of his frown.
That girl! The jangle of gold bracelets as she waved grated on his frazzled nerves. And the way she was just… just lounging there, nibbling on cheese, of all things! Insufferable woman!
“You do look rather like a drowned dormouse, or some kind of moss monster,” she remarked cheerfully, as if they had been having a discussion about it all along. “I hope you have finished your lunch break already, because we can’t waste time you know. Got to get a move on soon.”
Had she not seen him come rolling down the blasted hill just a moment ago? He had heard giggling! What part of that looked like a break? The kind of break that did not involve skulls or limbs anyhow…
“You.” Marquis voice shook a little as he tried to keep it within an acceptable tone. However irritated he was, the little wisps of steam curling up around her reminded him that this little minx could boil him in his own skin if she so chose. Well, perhaps that was a bit dramatic. She had done a few conjuring tricks and could apparently keep herself warm and dry without textile aid, but that did not necessarily mean she was all that powerful. That would be Noble class magic, and what would a noble be doing way out here?
She could still give him some very painful burns, in any case. So Marquis continued to resist the urge to shout at her. Perhaps she could be made to feel ashamed of herself.
“You abandoned me,” he said, with the most severe expression he could summon. “You left me to wander around directionless, until I was hopelessly lost!”
To his great chagrin, the deserting female in question simply tilted her head, to the left, without giving the slightest hint of being either contrite or ashamed. If anything, she looked slightly bewildered.
“But, you are here, are you not?”
This was so far removed from the reaction he had been expecting that Marquis found himself stumbling out his reply.
“Uh, well… yes.” Some of the anger he had been feeling so keenly drained away, despite all his resolve to be firm. “But, uh, you told me that we would be leaving at dawn, did you not?” He did manage to keep his frown severely in place.
“Oh, yes!” Fae said brightly. “But I could not sleep. So I decided to leave early!” So saying, as if that brief explanation absolved her of any possible guilt or responsibility, she proceeded to lean back and flash him a smile.
He had to admit it was a very nice smile. She had such pearly little teeth, set perfectly in the heart shaped frame formed by the swoop of her hair. Shorter hair, like a huntress, and it was dark enough to match those snappy eyes. All in all, she was quite the most adorable creature Marquis had ever seen. And, the thought struck him suddenly as he gazed into those too innocent eyes, more than a little deranged.
To put it shortly, he was not entirely sure how to respond.
“That fat old Waykeep told you I had gone on ahead, right?” Fae continued, startling him so much that he had to do some rapid blinking in order to remember what she was talking about.
“Uh, yes. Yes he told me.” Marquis remembered the Waykeeper wording it a little differently however. Something along the lines of, “Flown off without you I’m afraid.” If he remembered correctly… The older man had followed it up with, “Best watch yourself with that particular bird, boy. Her shell cracked oddly, I do believe.”
“Well then!” Fae bounced up from her log couch and began shoveling her cheese and other assorted foodstuffs into a pack; which she had retrieved from behind the afore mentioned log. It was a fairly small pack, Marquis noted, he would guess it could hold no more than a water skin or two and a couple of day’s worth of rations. Well, maybe some rope also, or a cloak? Clearly she was very confident of not getting lost on the way to the Minion’s village… and of getting a refill on supplies while she was there.
Come to think of it, where was his pack? Not on his back anymore, that was for certain. Marquis ran back to the dogwood bush and began a frantic search. He found out how many uncomfortable places one could be jabbed by twigs, but his pack was nowhere to be found. Had he lost it on the hill? He turned his gaze up the slope; yet still saw no sign of it. If the pack had tumbled or been snagged from his back during his less than moderate descent, would there not be little food packages, maybe a few apples, scattered around or even down by the dogwood as well? He could not see anything of the kind. And, if he was being quite honest with himself, Marquis had to admit that he was not actually sure he had not lost the pack during some other segment of his lamentable journey through this nasty, tree-infested forest.
“Alright, let’s move out!” Fae, her pack settled neatly behind her, waved him over to the fallen tree once again. Marquis glanced at her, and then back up the hill. Who knew how long it would take to find Fae again if he went back looking for his things. But, he had to have that pack back! Without it he would be at the mercy of a half-crazed girl he barely knew, for food and water. And besides that…
“Hey, Marky!” Fae called. “You’re going the wrong way!”
Marquis rolled his eyes. Make that at the mercy of a half-crazed girl who could not even get his name right.
“I told you, it’s Mar-KEE. And actually- hey!” Fae’s hand clamped down on his wrist, and Marquis found himself being hauled back towards the fallen tree trunk. He had certainly not expected such strength from such a petite girl. Her fingers were also very warm. Fae was full of surprises, it seemed.
“Fae! What are you doing? I need-”
“Look, the Minion’s village is to the north and west, and that is this way!” Fae gave an insistent tug and hopped up onto the trunk she had been perched on earlier. Marquis hung back, resisting her attempts to pull him up beside her. He found himself eye level with the orange and red bands on the hem of her dress; yet he managed to peel his eyes away from that and direct them up at her disapproving face.
“But…”
“Ohhh!” Fae released her grip on his wrist, by flinging it down. “Come on! You have to trust me, okay? I am very good with directions.” Marquis had not yet seen anything from her that contradicted that statement; but then he probably would have agreed with anything said by an angry creature of fire looming over him with baleful gray eyes that flashed like lightning way out at sea. Well, at least he would let his staring silence be taken as agreement.
Fae reached over her shoulder suddenly and pulled out an oddly shaped small object.
“Here.” She tossed the hunk of crusty bread rather carelessly; Marquis had to lean to the side in order to catch it. “You can eat on the way,” she continued, hopping down on the opposite side of the log and tromping very solidly in what Marquis assumed was a Northwesterly direction. After a few feet she paused and turned to look back over her shoulder, one eyebrow arched in query.
“Well? Are you coming or are you not?”
Marquis looked down at the bread, then back up at Fae.
“Uh, alright.”
So Fae led the way back into the lush, ill-intentioned forest. From the very first Marquis decided that she clearly knew what she was about. She never missed a step, and it was nigh on fascinating to watch her weave effortlessly around thorny plants of all kinds, or pick a path through the mazes of underbrush.
When not watching such amazing feats of woodcraft with longing and, if he was being completely honest with himself, a little bit of jealousy also, Marquis found that if he followed very carefully in Fae’s footsteps his way was much eased. There were still masses of buzzy insects out for his blood of course. Plenty of roots and stumps to catch his toes on occasionally too; but still they progressed much faster than he had thought possible.
Marquis' trips and stumbles not withstanding, they also traveled in relative silence for quite awhile. This did not bother him much, as he was a quiet sort himself. Although, from what he had so far witness Fae was not... and that did worry him a little.
“So, Marker,” Fae gave no warning of her return to speech, she simply began. “I am guessing you must be one of those stuffy scholars from Luatha Capitol who never leave the city.”
Marquis looked up from carefully eyeballing his path, startled, and put his foot squarely in a bush almost immediately after. It took what seemed like entire minutes to extricate himself from the scrub's twiggy grip. Irrationally, he thought it might have taken less time with the vigor afforded by a few nasty plowman's curses; but there was certainly no way his strict upbringing could allow him to utter such things in the presence of a young woman he had known for somewhere less than five hours all together. On top of that, he was certain that she was some form of noble, although ordering people about was the only ladylike trait she seemed willing to display.
Indeed this young 'lady' had turned around and stood, simply watching, with unveiled amusement until Marquis was free and upright once more. At least this time there had been no giggling.
“Soooo,” she prompted, with a meaningful look in his direction. “Like I said, you were probably one of those dusty guys with a spare little room in the library dormitories, whose never kissed a girl, am I right?”
Marquis blinked rapidly and sputtered a bit, in a desperate attempt not to blush.
“I, you, um, w-what?”
“You are a scholar, are you not?” She raised an inquiring eyebrow.
“Huh? Well, actually no. I am not a scholar. In fact, dust gives me a rash.” He could almost sneeze, just thinking about it.
Fae snorted her disbelief and turned to continue walking. Perhaps she too wondered if he had hit his head during that oh so graceful tumble down the slope earlier? Marquis had only followed her a few paces when she whirled on him, scowling in a puzzled fashion.
“Okay that cannot be true! What else could explain your complete lack of trail skills?” She flung her arms out dramatically and performed a little twirl. She had such a free way of expressing herself, this Fae creature, and with such confidence. If only what she expressed was not so, pointed.
Thinking back to his parents' descriptions of the intrigues and intricate, subtle, games of the Luathan court, Marquis had to seriously wonder how Fae could ever have survived there, with such a tongue. Of course, would a noble necessarily bother with such games when addressing a man of obviously lower status?
“Um, where I come from there simply are not that many trees. And since I normally travel by road, learning woodscraft just never seemed very necessary.”
“What are you talking about!? That is impossible!” Fae put a hand on her hip and pointed at him with the other, like a tutor in lecture mode. “As a scholar you ought to know, Marksy, Erium is an island,”
Marquis held up a hand, like a shield in front of his face, before he interrupted with, “Um, actually it is an peninsula...”
Fae shot him a quick glare, quelling any thought of adding further correction, this time to her continued mispronunciation of his name.
“It is an island when you take into account the northern mist wall!” she said, in a tone not to be argued with. Not that there was much point in arguing on that count, technically it was true. The northern mist wall was just as impenetrable as its three compass rose cousins, for all that it was on land. For all intents and purposes, their interdicted homeland might as well be an island.
“Anyway, as I was saying,” and instantly Fae was back in tutor mode,” Erium is an island completely covered by forest. Completely! That is basic fact. So, how could you come from somewhere with no trees? You are not really my idea of someone from beyond the mist wall.”
Marquis could not help raising his eyebrows at that comment.
“Are you not a noble?” he asked, figuring it was better than asking if she was utterly dense. “What about the Druid Plains? To the east of Mount Toil?”
Fae rested her pointing hand on her hip as well and stood, thoughtful, very still for a moment or two. She squinted her eyes, one just a little bit more than the other, and scrunched up her little nose, and appeared to be racking her brain, searching every corner of her memory and imagination for his words.
“Hmm, Druid Plains, huh?” She tilted her head forward, and then back, bangs swinging around her face. “I am not sure... hmm.”
Marquis really wanted to be mad at her, he really really did; but he just could not muster up the energy for much more than an eyeroll.
“Look, Fae, what reason would I have to lie to you about where I live?” Without waiting for an answer, Marquis heaved a sigh and turned away. Taking a moment to try and gauge his direction, he walked away into the bushes without looking back. He wasn't sure whether he expected her to come charging after him, fingers blazing, or not.
Still, he found himself rather surprised when she did not. In fact, he did not hear evidence of a pursuit of any kind. Not that he wanted her to come after him, insufferable woman, no of course not. However, if he was being entirely honest, Marquis had to admit that he really had no idea where he was going in this, this forest. And of course he had lost his pack, so he also had no food and no idea about how one went about acquiring it out here. Perhaps he could find some tasty mushrooms...
Come to think of it, why had she not come after him yet? He had been walking now for a couple of minutes. Without tripping on or crashing through anything either, miracle of miracles. Well, he supposed, he would just have to go find his way back to her. Dying alone in a bug ridden wilderness because of pride did not sound like a good end; especially as that would mean that the bugs had won at last. Not if he could help it!
In turning to go back then, Marquis was quite shocked to find Fae standing right behind him. Almost directly behind him, to be exact, which caused him a little jump of fear. The jump of fear was accompanied by a yelp, which soon gave way to various noises of distress as his jump had carried him a little too near the eagerly reaching branches of a rather prickly rosebush.
Once again Fae stood by silently until he had managed to extricate himself. This time however, she seemed completely unmoved by the sight, or at least she was not amused. Marquis would have found that quite ominous, if he had not been so distracted by pulling thorns out of his tunic sleeves. His trousers were worse, but he considered them a hopeless case at this point. Perhaps when before he laid down to get some sleep he would bother about them, but it was sort of pointless at the moment.
“I am not a noble,” Fae said, very distinctly, once Marquis was on his feet once more before her.
“Beg pardon?”
“You asked me before if I was a noble. I am not, nor do I like being associated with their kind.”
“Ah,” Marquis stared at her quizzically for a moment, brushing at his sleeves in an absent minded fashion as he tried to decide what might be the best response. Clearly she was very serious about this. What was so wrong with being thought to be a noble? Her expression and general demeanor did not exactly invite him to ask.
“My apologies,” he inclined his head towards her graciously. “It was not my intention to insult you. I had merely made an assumption, based on your earlier display back at the Wayhouse. I see now that I was in error.”
She stared at him, without blinking, for several seconds. He felt as if her dark eyes were weighing him. Was it just his imagination, or was there something in her look akin to a deer which has just heard an ominous rustling noise?
“Well then,” she said at last, breaking the exaggerated silence between them with a shake of her short dark hair. It had to have been imagination, that wary glance. He saw nothing of it about her now, although he did notice that her hair had faint streaks of... mauve? Yes, mauve indeed. That could not be natural. Even the Morrs did not have such odd two toned coloration. Not that he had seen many.
“I am certainly aware that it is... not very nice to go around practically calling someone a liar, even when you have only known them for less than a day, and most especially when they are, in fact, not a liar.”
That was not quite an apology. Then again, having been unsuccessful in gleaning one earlier, it seemed unlikely that he would get one at this point. Then again, Fae was constantly doing the opposite of what he thought she would do... but since she had declared herself to not be of noble rank, it was probably just that she was somewhat unpredictable, not actually reading his mind and doing it on purpose. He had better get better at either predicting or being chill, and as soon as possible. All these little shocks could not be good for the heart.
And of course, just as he was thinking that, she leaned in rather close and smiled at him.
“I remembered the Druid Plains!” She said brightly, leaning back again, with both hands on her hips. “It was the site of one of the conclusive battles of the Demon War, was it not? That's why it has so few trees. The magic forces changed the landscape.”
Marquis nodded. “Yeah, that is pretty much it.”
Fae crossed her arms and looked up at the bits of sky visible through the swaying tree tops swaying above them. “I have read all about that battle and everything, dozens of times at least,” she said thoughtfully, Almost to herself. “I guess I just never thought of people actually living there.”
“Well, it was a little over a hundred years ago. Don't you think it would be rather silly to just let all that farmland go to waste?” Marquis ran a hand absently through his hair, and then grinned as he continued.
“My family have been farmers and merchants of the Druid Plains for at least four generations.” It was something of a boast, and Marquis certainly had no compunctions whatsoever about letting all the pride show through in his voice. The Tarinoth's were one of the oldest families on the plain. They had yet to be elevated to the status of nobles by any great magical talent, but they were a prestigious house all the same.
“Wow,” Fae seemed genuinely impressed, which made Marquis feel both surprised and gratified at the same time. “That is just about as long as my family has been... well, about as long as they've lived in Luatha.”
Marquis studied her expression during that rather conspicuous pause and found it to be suspicious. It was pretty obvious that she had been right on the verge of saying something else.
“What business does your family do in Luatha, Fae? Are they merchants as well?” He tried to make his query sound as innocent as possible, as if he had not actually noticed her change of phrase and was simply curious. It really was not much dissembling either. He was curious. There was so little he knew about this young woman he had followed into the wilderness, and so little of the little he knew was heartening. He just did not want her to think he was trying to pry.
Still, all of his care came to naught, as Fae simply spun on her heel and began striding through the bushes once again.
“You know,” she said, over her shoulder. “We really do not have time for all of this lolly gagging. We still have thirty odd miles to make before we camp out for the night!”
Marquis stared for a moment, and then shuddered. Surely she could not be serious, could she? Just thinking about walking thirty miles through this hellish wood made his arms and legs twitch.
“Come on Marksy! Speed it up!” she called, in a friendly fashion.
“It is Mar-KEE!” he called back.
Her only response was to wave him forward. At least that is what he assumed she was doing. She was already little more than a human shape between the trees. Marquis scuttled to catch up. Damn, she could really move!
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Whether or not they really had gone thirty miles by the time the fading light caught up to Fae, all Marquis wanted to do when they finally stopped was to collapse onto the ground and sleep. Of course Fae had other ideas. Gathering firewood, for instance, and stacking it neatly in the small circle of moss and stones she had arranged in the meantime.
“You should probably go get some fluffy branches too, and make yourself a little nest,” she added, gesturing to her own 'nest' which was basically a bunch of bracken piled up a safe distance from the fire circle. There was a cloak draped over it, but no sign of a bedroll. Not that there had been room in that little pack of hers for a bedroll, but he was still a little surprised. Perhaps Fae simply had a slight natural immunity to the growing chill in the air. She would have to, to go running around in such a short dress, and with no leggings to speak of. His mother would probably have had an attack of her 'nervous complaints' if she could have seen her.
Thinking about his mother, and the chilly night air, reminded him of something of importance.
“I lost my pack,” he said, half talking to himself.
“I would pick up some extra ferns then. You know, so you do not end up freezing to death.” Fae grinned up at him and pointed across the fire makings. “There was a good patch over there; should be plenty left.”
Marquis glanced in the direction she had indicated; but all he saw were thorny bushes and looming shadows which grew longer, deeper, and more uninviting almost by the second.
“Umm,” he began, uncertainly.
“They are just past that bunch of wild roses there.” Fae said, and turned to attend to the twiggy beginnings of their as yet unsparked fire. “Best hurry it up though, once night starts its fall, it picks up speed real fast.”
“Uh, what constitutes a 'fluffy' branch, might I ask?” Marquis edged towards the bushes in question as he spoke. They did indeed have flowers on them, delicate light pink things that looked nothing at all like the fat country roses in his family's gardens. Pretty though, in their own way. Somehow he had completely missed them, too focused on the thorns no doubt.
“I would go with pine branches,” Fae declared, as Marquis was busy looking for the safest path around the deadly sweet looking roses. They had probably just parted for Fae, let her slip right through their ranks. After all, they had a lot in common with her.
“They smell nice, and there is much less of a chance that you will mistake them for poison oak... unless of course you take so long looking for 'em that you can no longer see what you are grabbing at.”
Brilliant, because that was exactly what he wanted to hear as he was striding into the shadows, trying not to get tangled in anything as he went.
“Although,” and Marquis tried steadfastly to ignore her this time, as he was beginning to doubt this new found helpful streak she had acquired. Unfortunately, she had a very persistent sort of voice.
“I would probably not be worrying so much about poison oak in the dark as I would about, say, creatures. All kinds of weird stuff comes out at night.”
“Fae...”
“No, seriously! People are always telling me, there is no way to be too careful in the North!”
Marquis glanced about nervously, and then sighed. Insufferable-
A loud hoot came from somewhere entirely to close to his current position; followed shortly by some unintelligible yelps and a rustling crash. As he was disentangling himself from the roses, Marquis heard the undeniable sounds of giggles and swore accordingly, albeit under his breath.
Eventually he reemerged from the dusky jungle, arms full of as much bedding fodder as he could possibly carry. There was no way in the Book that he was going back out there for more. No. His arms were protesting mightily and he had to move with such ponderously slow steps that it was almost full dark by the time he returned to their campsite, so he figured that meant he had quite enough for a decent replacement bed roll. Fae agreed.
“Hey, that is quite a good haul there, Marksy,” she exclaimed as he stepped into the steady flicker of the campfire and plunked his plunder down at what seemed a safe distance from its flames.
“I keep telling you, call me Mar-KEE,” he replied, dusting bits of bracken off of his clothing. Fae scrunched up her face, but he pressed on before she could say anything. “Seriously, Fae, if we're going to travel together I would appreciate it if you could say my name right.”
“Weeeeell,” Fae crossed her arms and scowled for a moment. Then her face unscrunched and her lips slid into a crooked sort of half smile. “I suppose I could give it a try, although I cannot make any promises. I just like Marksy so much better.”
Marquis was sure that he was making some bizarre expression as he tilted his head slightly to the side and said simply, “Why?” in his most bewildered voice.
Fae shrugged, brushing her hair over her shoulder and looking off into the chill darkness that had crept in to enclose their warm, shifting ring of light.
“Dunno.”
Silence descended even more quickly that night had. Fae continued to stare into the night, although it did not seem as if she was actually looking at something. Marquis busied himself with putting his bed in order. He was a bit taller than Fae, so his 'nest' was that much longer, and it looked a good deal skinnier than hers did after he had placed his aromatic materials to what he thought was the best advantage. It was mostly just branches though, so that could be why.
He had placed all the ferns in a pile to one side, so that he could spread them over his body after he lay down. Perhaps he should put some on top of the branches to pad them out a bit. The fire was warming up their little space a little, he might not need so much covering. Although, by the time morning came would probably have a terrible chill in his bones. Oh what he would give to get his pack and bedroll back again!
“Sooo,” Fae began, a little less startlingly than usual. Marquis looked up and met her eyes. “You. Are you hungry at all?” She had two thick chunks of bread, one in each hand, with cheese and what appeared to be dried meat stacked on top on them. She held the left hand out towards him and moved it up and down slowly, as if trying to waft the aroma towards him. There wasn't really any scent to it that, from across the fire, could really compete with the smells of smoke and ferny pine; but he was certainly hungry.
“Yes I am, thank you.” He moved closer and accepted the offering, noticing that it was the hunk of bread with less cheese that she had given him, then shifting back to his original place almost immediately. He nibbled in silence, while Fae took large bites and made happy noises as she chewed them.
The bread was crusty, but not really too hard or stale. The dried meat was alright as well, though a bit salty, and the cheese was rather good. Much simpler than the food he had at home, but pretty good for journey fare. It reminded him of the meal they had shared at the Wayhouse the night before; especially the cheese. She must have bought more provisions there. How very far away that seemed, after just one day! This northern forest was like a whole other world.
“I am sorry,” he said after he had thoroughly chewed and swallowed his first mouthful. “To be eating up all of your food, I mean.” She made a dismissive gesture and tossed him the water skin out of her pack.
“And for drinking up all of your water as well. I cannot even begin to think how I could have lost my pack...”
“No worries,” Fae replied cheerily, a twinkle in her eye. “Tomorrow I will just make you catch your own squirrel for dinner.”
Marquis sputtered and nearly choked on the piece of meat he had just swallowed.
“I am kidding! Oh my goodness, Marksy, try not to be so tightly wound and jumpy. It was a joke, really!”
The bit of meat finally dislodged itself and slid into its rightful place, down in his belly, and Marquis managed a short laugh that was mostly out of relief. Squirrel, very funny, yes. He had known it was a joke all along... yes.
“Heh, sorry about that. Overreacted I guess.”
“No worries.” She smiled at him. “So tell me. You said yesterday that you were looking for Minions as well. Why is that exactly.” She took the second to last large bite of her dinner and watched him expectantly while she masticated it.
“Now, wait just a minute here. I've already told you more about me than you have told me about you.”
“Nuh-uh!” she exclaimed around her mouthful. She chewed a little quicker, till she could speak clearly enough to follow up on that stellar arguement. “You know my name, what I'm doing, where I'm going. How is that less than I know about you? We just met yesterday!”
“You know my surname too, and part of my family history as well.” Emboldened by a mix of his stomach actually being content at last, and exhaustion, he even added, “Besides which I have been supplying you with endless forms of amusement all day long. So, I think you should tell me where you got those fans hanging around your waste, and why you carry them around.”
He wondered if she had expected him to demand to know something about her family as well, because she looked kind of surprised at his mention of fans. It was something he had been curious about ever since he had first seen her, and he was not stupid, or even tired, enough to return so soon to a subject that she had taken great pains, mostly his, to avoid.
“If it comes to that,” she replied, after no more than a few moments. “I have been supplying you with food, water, and free lessons in woodscraft all day.”
He bowed his head towards her.
“True indeed, I must concede that point.”
“Good,” she grinned, cheeky girl that she was. “Answer my question then... and if what you say is interesting enough, I will answer yours.”
Marquis nodded his agreement. That seemed fair enough. Alright then, where and how to start?
“It is sort of complicated, but the basic reason that I need some Minions is that I'm hoping that they might have enough magic about them to help me secure my inheritance.”
“Okay... I am not following.” Fae told him, a small frown beginning to blossom on her face. “So, if you want to hear about my fans, you are going to have to do better than that.”
There really was not any reason why he could not elaborate. It was a bit of a long story though... but if Fae wanted the interesting details. Marquis took a deep breath and prepared to elaborate.
“Alright, I will start at the beginning then, shall I?”
“If that will help.” Fae leaned back on hers hands with a wry expression. Marquis cleared his throat once and ran his fingers through his hair.
“I believe I told you before that my family have been merchants and farmers in the Druid Plains for several generations. My father and his father have made ours the most prosperous of the Tarinoth's merchant houses. However, neither is content to simply be affluent and prestigious citizens. They wish our family to be elevated to the status of Nobles.”
Fae snorted her contempt of that particular idea, did not otherwise attempt to interrupt him. So, after a moment, Marquis continued his tale.
“Although we had some magical talents crop up in the family here and there, they were far between and somewhat rare. My father was one of these rare mages and he made a vow that he would be the one to change everything and put the Tarinoth's on the path to Nobility.”
“His first step was to seek training for his own small talent, so that it could grow and stretch as far as possible. There was no way that his magic would ever be of noble class, so his second step was to take a wife from a family known for its good, strong magic. My mother's family came from the North of the plains, near the forest edge, and they were very poor. However, they were reputed to have had ancestors who had fought in the very battle which created the Druid Plains in the first place.”
“So,” and this time Fae clearly had full interruption on her mind. “Let me see if I have got this straight; your father married your mother for her magic?” She rolled her eyes and her voice took on a sarcastic edge. “How very romantic, just like a Gleeman's tale.”
This time it was Marquis' face with gain the slightest of frowns.
“Since when have Gleemen ever portrayed merchants as romantic? I have listened to perhaps a bit more than my fair share of tales, and I cannot recall them ever being cast in that role,” he said. Marriage was quite often for reasons beyond the romantic, and it was no shameful thing to consider ones family and the future of your house before the often misguided leanings of the heart. This was his father's firm belief, and something that had been drilled into each of his sons since the beginning of their education. And besides any of that, what went on behind the scenes in his parents lives was none of his concern. How in love they might be with each other was none of his business, nor Fae's for that matter.
“I will give you that,” Fae replied after thinking for a little while. “As I cannot seem to recall any romantic merchant tales either, now that you mention it.”
She laughed, and then that teasing twinkle was back in her eye.
“Although,” she drawled. “Foolish young men can come from any rank or profession, and they are quite often the heroes of romantic tales.”
Marquis had to grin at that as well, such funny mental pictures did it usher into his mind.
“Well, my father was certainly young once; but I very greatly doubt that he was ever 'foolish', even as a child. If you were to ever meet him, you would feel the same I am sure.”
“I will keep that in mind then. But go on, explain to me how your father's quest for nobility has anything to do with YOUR quest for minions.” Fae resettled herself and looked at him expectantly.
Marquis was really beginning to get the idea that even if Fae was not a noble, as she claimed, she had at least had some sort of contact with some. There was such vehemence in her voice when she said the word nobility, it was almost a curse. But, there she was still staring at him, and it probably would not be a good idea to make her wait too long.
“Alrighty then, well, uh, I guess it has to do with resources really. I am the youngest of three sons,” Fae's eye lit up at that, but Marquis hurried on before she could say anything. “From the time my brothers and I first began showing signs of magical talent, we have been trained and tutored, so that our talents could be properly 'cultivated', as my father calls it.”
“All three with talents? Those are some good genes,” Fae muttered. “Papa Tarinoth apparently knows how to pick a good brood mare.”
Marquis ignored her.
“Both of my older brothers have fairly respectable powers. The one closest to me, Ruiri, can control plants to a limited extent. Tanist, our eldest brother can put magic into objects, usually with the effect of making it lighter or heavier, or him being able to summon it to hand.”
“Oooh, that is a good one!”
Marquis nodded solemnly. “I know. How all of this pertains to my quest however, is that my own magical power is much less than theirs. In fact, it is less than my father's. And before I left he made it very clear to me that he has no use for a younger son who has been nothing but a drain on his resources, without contributing anything to the family fortune, honor, or rank.”
“T-that,” Fae sputtered, smacking her hands down on her knees, eyes blazing and eyebrows knit together so tightly that there was almost no space between them. “That is just rediculous! What kind of magic do you do, anyways? It certainly cannot be as pathetic as you are making out.”
Marquis rubbed a hand through his hair, highly embarrassed. Sounding pathetic had not been his intention, nor had he been trying to gain Fae's sympathy or outrage with his story... Although he had been secretly hoping that she might take him more seriously once she knew that he was on a serious quest.
“Well?” Fae was very insistant.”
“It is sort of, preservation. “ He puzzlement creep into her expression and felt sure that he was probably turning red. Hopefully it was dark enough, or the light of the fire was warm enough that Fae would not notice.
“What I mean is that I can put a little magic, a very tiny amount, into something like food and it will not go bad for a long while. I can keep parchments and hides from fading, silver from tarnishing, that sort of thing.”
“Well that sounds really useful!”
Marquis shook his head ruefully. “It is domestic, at best,” he said. “And domestic is never something that is going elevated the Tarinoth line. Even the amount of magical power I can put into things is not enough to catch anyone's eye, or even be useful outside of keeping my travel bread from molding or giving our bondsmen less work to do. I would not even be useful to my father if I married a young woman with high magic potential, because of my own weak magic... besides which, he has Ruiri for that.”
He looked over and caught Fae watching him, thoughtfully? It was hard to gauge the expression in her eyes, and her face gave away no clues. Although, in the fires flickering shadows she looked almost, sad. Was she thinking that his situation was pathetic, was she pitying him? He did not want that, not from the Fae creature sitting across the fire, with those dark, dark eyes that reflected its light. He would almost prefer her to be tormenting him instead.
“My point is, that is why I am here, crashing around through this... forest, looking for Minions. Bringing their magic back with me will prove that I am useful. Or, their magic will enable me to find some other, more powerful magic. And with that, I will prove to my father that I am determined to bring honor to our family name, even with this weak magic of mine.”
“I see, that is a very good reason, I guess,” she said; her thoughtful expression still remained.
“Why are you seeking out Minions, Fae?” The query was a somewhat desperate attempt to change the subject.
Fae smiled brightly at him and replied, just as brightly, “Oh they just sounded like so much fun!”
Marquis found he was completely unable to find a response to that, and silence fell between them once more. In the absence of conversation, various odd noises, hoots and growls and things of that nature, began to make themselves more apparent. Marquis glanced about nervously.
“Um, Fae?” he said at last. “Ought we set a watch or something like that?” He had not had one when he was traveling alone, but then the few times he had slept outdoors on his journey north had been in the southern forests below Luatha, and they were much tamer than these northern jungles were reputed to be. Besides which, he had not really had much of a choice, traveling alone.
Fae glanced about.
“No,” she said, “We should be alright. No animal is going to venture near my fire.”
“What about, demonkin? Aren't they more prevalent here in the North?”
“Marksy, if there was a demonkin out there, setting a watch would not help us much.”
Well, that was comforting. He resumed his nervous perusal of the fire shadowed edges of their camp.
“Of course, if you do not believe me,” Fae rolled her shoulders back and stretched her arms out and up, an activity which instantly caught Marquis' attention. She smiled at him, with a very wicked twist to her lips. “You are welcome to stay up all night and keep watch.” She yawned again and scooted over towards her bedding area.
Marquis caught himself yawning too. All the aches in his limbs were suddenly very apparent as well. Probabyl because the chill air was working itself into the half of him not facing the fire.
“I do not think I will have much of a choice,” he muttered, putting a couple finishing touches on his needle bough bed and then rolling into it. There were some quiet rustles as both of them got comfortable, Marquis piling his extra ferns on top of himself as best he could manage. If he lay with his face towards the fire, it was almost comfortable.
“How long till we reach the Minion village?” he inquired, once he had settled in.
“The Waykeep said two or three days... so we might just make it there tomorrow, if we keep up a good pace,” Fae replied.
The words struck an unpleasant cord in his sleepy head, or at least he felt a portentous ache in his already aching legs and feet.
“Uh, is a good pace anything like today?”
“Oh yeah, maybe a little faster even!”
“That is what I was afraid of...”
Marquis thought he heard some soft giggling; but his eyes were already drooping and he was half way to exhausted slumber by that point, so he could have been wrong. The last thing he saw in his blurry vision was the fire leaping and dancing in its little circle. It reminded him of Fae, that carefree flashing and leaping. He wished he could be like that sometimes, at least he thought so.
“Goodnight Marquis,” Fae whispered. “Tomorrow I will tell you about my fans.”
