Somewhere in Time

Chapter Five

"So, you see," Adam finished, addressing Nate, whom he gave a huge lump on the head to, earlier, "this is why us men are going to work together."

Nate was outraged, "and you think for ONE SECOND that we're going to trust you.. A thief and a brigand....."

"With help from the two of you, my rogue days will be behind me. Vengeance is the only thing that can permanently seal the wound to mine honour this nobleman has done."

"What about MY wound!?" the wizard shouted, pointing at his head.

Sir Paul spoke up for the first time during this meeting, "you know magic, right? Heal yourself!"

"Oh, yeah!" and with that, he withdrew his wands, and traced shapes in the air.

"You say, 'us men'," Juanita began.

"You can't go, darling," Adam interrupted, "it's too dangerous."

"Surely I can be of some use!"

"I am not going to risk your safety."

"Adam!-

He gazed upon his lover with a scolding look, "I will give you some things to trade until I return. You are to stay here, and that's that."

Tears welled in her eyes as she nodded, wiping at her face.

"Wait," said Nathaniel, "you two are together, so...."

The rogue nodded, "I'm afraid you two will have to sleep in the same room."

Nate and Bruce looked at each other, this time, in disgust.

"Now, we must sleep. You know what they say, 'early to bed, early to rise, the bird gets the worm, right between the eyes.'"

The wizard and knight prepared to leave what was now Adams room, and before the knight exited, he turned back to the rogue, "I'm pretty sure that's not how the saying goes, bloke."

Adam curled up next to his woman, still clad in his clothing and gear, exhausted from the fight, "I'm a thief, not a philosopher."

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Sun rays and scents brought Bruce back to life from his light sleep. He peered through the window of the room, behind a wooden nightstand. Everything was made out of wood, he kept thinking. He noted the position of the sun in the bright, blue sky, and quickly sat up.

He looked to his partner in front of him, whom sat on a wooden stool, breaking his fast, "It must be around eleven A.M! We need to get going!"