The Memory of Darkness (on hold until October)

19 - Hidden Things

The tavern door swung open and the man stumbled outside, tripped down the steps and collapsed onto the muddy roadway with a grunt. He lay on the ground, singing and giggling, but stopped at the realisation that someone was stood next to him.

He looked up at the tall, cloaked figure that loomed over him. "Whatcha looking it?" he slurred.

"Do you need some help, friend?" asked the figure, extending his hand.

"Yesss," said the drunk. "I only had three mugs, I swear. Or was it seven? I forgets. Can't count that far anyways..." He giggled, as the stranger helped to pull him upright.

"Do you live far?" asked the man.

"No," said the drunk. "S'over that way," he pointed vaguely down the street, setting off in that direction, his arm still outstretched. He mumbled a song to himself as he walked on unsteady feet, unaware that the stranger followed a short distance behind.

He turned left into a narrow street, bouncing off a wall as he did so. Cursing cheerfully, he steadied himself, before sliding down the wall into a heap on the ground. Despite the darkness, he saw a cat wander past him, ignoring him completely. It stopped, staring at something the drunk couldn't see, arching its back and hissing, before running away into the gloom of the street.

Dazed, he looked around, seeing nothing, before his head slumped forwards and he began to snore loudly. The cloaked man crouched down next to him, removed a glove, and wrapped skeletal fingers around the drunk's throat.

"My apologies, friend," whispered the stranger. "She likes me better when I'm pretty. Needs must, I'm afraid."

XXXXX

Felix watched unimpressed, as Gretchen loaded another large bag onto the cart. "What's in that?" he asked.

"Clothes and shoes," she said.

"You've already loaded a bag of clothes and shoes," he said. "They do have laundries in Estenfold, you know. It's quite civilized."

Gretchen shrugged. "One more bag won't hurt," she said. "I don't know what the weather will be like."

"It's the mountains in the autumn," said Felix. "It'll be gloomy. Dress for gloom."

"I'm prepared for everything," said Gretchen. "Including gloom."

Felix shook his head, muttering under his breath, and caught sight of a strangely shaped bag that Gretchen was attempting to hide under other pieces of luggage. "What's that one? Are you planning on bringing everything you own?"

"Not everything," said Gretchen. "And that's Bad Molly."

"Bad who?"

"Molly," repeated Gretchen. "It's my crossbow."

Felix's jaw dropped. "You've named it?"

Gretchen nodded. "People name weapons all of the time. I bet you've named inanimate objects before."

"I have not!" he insisted, before reviewing the heap of baggage that his niece had stored in the cart. "Are you done?"

"Yes," pouted Gretchen.

"Gods be praised!" said Felix. "In that case, you can go to the stables and fetch Cirrus."

Gretchen nodded, before pausing. "Uncle," she began. "I like the idea of journeys and adventures as much as anyone, but why has this fallen to us? She's a Princess, and from what Captain Coren says, all Prince Anton is doing is sending some men to stand about and look menacing."