Laura chose her words carefully. Steven was a great friend, a staunch alley, but a baker by trade, and more apt with flour and sugar than with a sword or a dagger. She needed him because of his gifts; his inborn ability to see the real nature of a person. He also seemed to have a sixth sense about danger, almost like Laura's cat, Stormy.
"The men were talking about what, Steven?" she asked.
"A creature taller than the tallest tulip tree, one only the oldest crone in the village has ever seen. They were talking real quiet, and I couldn't hear very well," said Steven. His lower lip was quivering. "I got a feeling it is not a nice giant creature."
Laura kicked a clump of rocks in front of her. "Ouch, crap, that hurt. What else did they say about the creature?"
Steven mumbled something under his breath.
"What are you saying, Stevie?"
"The old crone told the elders of the village the creature only has one eye. The story goes a great knight from long ago wounded it when it was passed out in the poppy fields after eating three hives worth of honey. The knight crept up to it and poked it in the toes to see if it was still alive," Steven said more clearly.
He was starting to enjoy his role of story teller. Usually Laura was too busy with her duties as the village wise woman and healer to pay attention to him although he always combed his thick blonde hair in an attractive manner across his brow. Or at least his little sister Diana told him he was cute.
Laura drummed her fingers on a tree trunk. "And.."
Steven scrunched his eyebrows, thinking hard. What did the elder men say?
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