The Dragon Speaker of Slithe

Chapter One

Part One

The wind blew softly, rustling leaves and softly whispering in a young man’s ears, musing over his odd metal garb. He straightened his helmet, annoyed, almost as though he knew he were the source of someone’s entertainment. His white stallion snorted, Tristen could feel him tense up. It appeared that he too felt something like magic in the air. Uncertainly, he urged his horse forward, perhaps believing he could flee from the feeling of being watched.

“Him? A mere boy?” the voice sounded incredulous. Emma stared into her crystal for a few more seconds. She had sent her wind out to search for the Speaker and this is who it came back with? A scrawny fellow scarcely more than a boy? Sure, he was pleasant to look at, but what did that matter? “He’s nothing special.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” responded her elder sister, Corinne, “as you well know. Besides, he’s older than you.” Emma shrugged. Not by much. Her sister was correct, however. By merely glancing at the young woman, it was impossible to tell that she, a petite girl with an aura of innocence, was a renowned witch. “Look, he senses something.” Emma peered closer. He couldn’t sense anything, it simply wasn’t possible. No one could- not when the spell caster was someone as powerful as herself. But there he was, looking around suspiciously, quite aware that someone was surveying him.
“That can’t be,” she protested softly.
“I told you,” Corinne sounded smug. “He knows you can see him.” Sourly, Emma glowered into the crystal, ready to break off the spell. But, suddenly, the knight’s head turned upwards. He stared directly into her eyes, his expression full of alarm and wonder. Hastily, she waved a hand over the crystal and the image disappeared.
“Did you see that?” she exclaimed. “He looked at me! He actually saw me! That’s impossible!”
Corinne made a face. “Obviously not.” Scowling fiercely, Emma called back her wind. It took only a matter of seconds before a breeze entered the cottage in which the two sisters sat. It circled the young woman twice before settling down into the locket she wore around her neck.
Excuse me, the proud voice sounded in Emma’s mind. Her head turned toward the doorway where she met eyes with a small Siamese cat. If you two are finished, you might want to get back to work.
“Of course,” she said, standing. Glancing at her older sister she spoke, “I have work to tend to. You can stay if you’d like, but I’ll be away for most of the afternoon.”
“I should get going, actually. You’re not the only busy one,” she said, smirking. “I’ll speak to you later, Em.”
“Goodbye,” Emma said, straightening out her skirt.
“And I’ll see you later too, Fiddious,” Corinne announced, kneeling down to stroke the cat. His eyes widened, but he didn’t protest.
“Do we have any new customers?” inquired Emma as soon as her sister had departed.
No, responded Fiddious, It’s been rather slow lately. You still have three animals awaiting you, though.
“And how are they fairing?”
Well, the cat answered, Quite well, but the horse still has a bit of a limp.
“That’s not good,” she murmured. “I’ll have to see to that immediately.” Walking briskly to a shelf full of potions, she plucked out a single jar full of a thick silver colored liquid. Smiling to herself, she followed Fiddious outside into the cool, crisp air. She breathed in deeply, enjoying the forest smells. Frost sparkled over the ground and the many fir trees surrounding them. The cold didn’t bother Emma in the least, however, as he had long since learned to warm herself with her magical abilities.
She strode evenly to a large barn not far from her cottage. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, she entered. Inside, the horse stood in one corner, nibbling on hay while two dogs lay on the ground, heads up and ears perked. The dogs had been brought over two days before after having been mauled by a small but ferocious dragon. Although they’d been in terrible condition when brought over by their master, all that was left to show of their fearsome fight were small scars.
Without hesitating, she came to the horse, crouching next to his right front leg. Producing the salve from the small purse at her waist, she popped the top off. The thick liquid poured smoothly out onto her hand. “Now I’m warning you,” she said to the horse, “this might feel a little strange.” Emma felt him shudder as she rubbed the goop over his entire leg. “It’s all right,” she cooed, softly patting the large animal.

Part Two

The young knight stumbled off of his stallion, rubbing his eyes. Blinking, he looked around fiercely. He could’ve sworn that he’d seen someone. A girl, he was certain. But where? Her face had suddenly appeared in his mind, and then she’d stared at him, looking as shocked as he felt. Shaking his head, he fell against a thick tree trunk and slid to the ground.
Perhaps he was going insane? A short cry interrupted his thoughts. Painfully getting to his feet, he hurried to his horse’s side. He hastily untied the small bundle from the saddle and cradled it in his arms. “Hush,” he tried unsuccessfully. “Are you hungry?” The small teary-eyed babe within the blankets cried louder. The befuddled knight reached for his knapsack. He took out a bottle of milk, and fumblingly stuck it in his young sister’s mouth. Her cries soon diminished into soft unhappy noises.
“I can’t do this,” he muttered to himself. He was a knight, nineteen years of age; he should be battling beasts, not caring for an infant. Irritably, he noticed that it was quickly becoming dark. Looking around, he decided that it was as good a place as any to set up camp. The mossy ground would be soft to sleep on, and the trees shaded them well. It was quite cold, however.
“Where are you heading, lad?” Tristen’s sword was out in an instant. He turned to face the intruder, looking defensive. “Whoa, put that weapon away.” It was a tall man, dressed in humble clothing. “You should be more careful, you could’ve seriously wounded that poor child in your arms.” The knight knew he spoke the truth; he easily could’ve cut off one of his sister’s limbs. But his first instinct had been to arm himself.
“You shouldn’t have startled me.”
“That wasn’t my purpose. I apologize,” the man responded, he looked to be in his mid twenties. “What are you doing out here, though?”
“That isn’t any of your business,” he snapped. “Who are you?”
“My name is Gared,” he responded helpfully. “I come from the village just west of here.” Feeling guilty, he sheathed his sword. “I thought I heard something so I came to investigate.” Tristen looked down at his sister; she really wasn’t fit to be his traveling companion, especially if she was going to give away his locations.
“I’m Tristen,” he said simply. “And this here is my young sister, Aurora.” He offered no more information.
“Do you… need a place to stay?” Gared asked hesitantly, reluctant to allow a strange knight into his home. He probably only did so out of sympathy for the baby. Tristan didn’t reply for a moment, reluctant to accept the offer.
“Yes,” he said at last.
“Come and stay with me, I insist.”
“Thank you. Your help is greatly appreciated.” By now he felt even worse for snapping. Gared only smiled in reply. “I’m a knight from Diandor, though I was born in Terrigan,” he said, deciding to open up a bit. “I was residing with Lord Charles when his manor was set afire.”
“Ah, yes. I had heard about that. He was killed, wasn’t he?”
“Yes,” Tristen responded bitterly. “He was fast asleep when it occurred. Nearly everyone was. His wife and his two children- all killed.”
“You were close?” Gared asked, frowning.
“Very. He took my sister and me in after our parents were killed by the storm a few months back.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said after a few moments, at loss for words it appeared. “Come, come. You must stay for as long as you want.” Gared snatched up the knapsack resting on the ground. “Is this all of your belongings?”
“That’s it.” A look of pity passed over Gared’s face.
“Come on, my house isn’t far.”
Gared had not lied. It took only about ten minutes to reach the small village. People watched as they walked by. Not in suspicion or mistrust, but welcomingly with friendly smiles. Tristen tried to smile back, but found that he wasn’t able to do so just yet. Too much tragedy had occurred for him to do anything but nod and try his best to look gracious.
“Hello, Gared,” a voice purred. “Who have you brought over this time?” Tristen spun around, frowning. A thin woman with silky blonde hair had come up behind them; she shot him a seductive smile. Furrowing his brows, he shot a sidelong glance at Gared who had suddenly turned surly. He decided that the woman was not a friend.
“Come along, Tristen,” Gared said, setting a rough hand on his shoulder and attempting to guide him away.
“I suppose I’ll see you later then,” the woman called after them.
“Just ignore her, please.”
“Who was she, Gared?”
“Gary. Just call me Gary,” he said. “Her name’s Lianne and it’s best to steer clear of her. Trust me.” Gared led the knight passed a few shops and small houses; he didn’t stop until they were at the gates of a large tower.
“This is it?” he asked in surprise as the man pushed passed them.
“Here we are. I suppose you were expecting something different?” Tristen nodded, looking at the tall building in bewilderment. “Well, I didn’t think it would look right if a sorcerer lived in anything but a nice tower.”
“A sorcerer?” he repeated. Gared did not at all look the part of a man who dealt in magic. He would’ve expected very fine clothing and perhaps a cape, anything but the dusty breaches and cotton shirt he presently wore.
“Well, I can’t say I’m an expert-”
“Or any good at all,” spoke an abrupt voice. At the doorstep sat a large black cat with dark narrowed eyes.
“Hello there, Olive,” Gared said, giving the cat a sheepish smile. “How have you been?”
“I’m still a cat,” she retorted. “You promised the spell would wear off!”
“At least you can speak,” he offered. “You’re not meowing any longer.” The cat glared at him. “I truly am sorry.” He turned to Tristen, looking embarrassed. “I’d been working on a spell to give one the ability to fly for a short amount of time and Olive, my… uh… good friend, offered to sample it. It didn’t quite work out the way I intended.”
“Olive?”
“Yes, Princess Olive,” Gared said, nodding.
“You turned one of the Slithen princesses into a cat?”
“There are four more, aren’t there?” he asked, chuckling nervously. Tristen shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve been trying to reverse it, but so far I’ve had no such luck.”
“Wait a moment- you know the Slithen princesses?”
“I’ve met them all before,” he responded slowly. “Olive is the only one I know very well.” He motioned to a man standing beside the tower doors. “Take his horse to the stables, will you?”
“And do you happen to be acquainted with the King of Slithe?” Tristen asked hopefully. “I must meet with him.”
“For what reason?” Olive piped up.
“For permission to start an investigation about the fire that was deliberately set to Lord Charles’s manor.”
“It was deliberate?” she asked in surprise. “How do you know?”
Tristen smiled grimly. “It was really quite obvious, actually. For some strange reason the house itself was unharmed, only the people inside it were touched.”
“Sorcery,” Gary whispered.
“Exactly,” Tristen agreed. He glanced down at Aurora who had started to make cooing noises.
“Come on in,” Olive said. “I’m sure you’re exhausted from wearing all that armor. And your daughter is probably sleepy.”
“Aurora is my sister,” Tristen corrected her, and then quickly added, “your highness.”
“You really don’t have to call me by that title,” Olive assured him as Gary ushered them inside. “Especially when I’m feline.”
“Whether you’re feline or not, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a princess,” he responded with a shrug.

After a hearty meal and a long hot bath, Tristen was shown to the guestroom where his sister lay sound asleep in a large crib. He pulled a fur blanket over her fragile body before going to his bed and promptly falling asleep.
“Are you well rested?” Gary asked the next morning. “You’ve been sleeping for over ten hours.” Tristen looked sleepily up from his breakfast of eggs and bacon.
“Have I?”
“Yes, indeed.” It certainly didn’t seem like it had been that long. As a matter of fact, he was still tired.
“I’ve decided to take you back to the Slithe castle if you’d like,” Olive announced. The cat princess sat primly on a stool next to the table, trying her best not to get dirty as she ate her eggs. “I must go there anyhow. My sister, Emma, would be able to return me to my human form. She’s a very powerful witch and she knows how to control her magic.” She shot a glare in Gary’s direction.
“Well, thank you,” Tristen began, uncertainly. “That would be… great.” His voice, however, suggested otherwise. Olive didn’t seem to notice his very unenthused tone, however.
“Wonderful. I’d like to go as soon as possible. How’s tomorrow? You’ll be well rested then, won’t you?” she asked anxiously. Without waiting for a reply, she continued, “You’ll keep Aurora here, of course. The maids will take care of her. It would be a very dangerous trip for a baby, you know.”
“Sure…”
“Wait half a moment,” Gary protested. “No one consulted me about this.”
“I don’t need your permission, Gary.”
“No, I didn’t say that, but-”
“I can go if I want to.”
“I never said you couldn’t, but-”
“Shall I wait outside?” Tristen asked, standing. “I’ll let you two discuss this matter alone.” He began to edge toward the door.
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Olive said, eyes flashing.
“Oh really? It sounds as though you’ve some unresolved issues to speak of…” He pushed the door open. “I’m just going to go into town. I’ll come back in an hour or so.”
“Watch out for Lianne,” Gary warned. “I saw the way she was looking at you before.”
“Lianne, ugh!” Olive blurted, sounding disgusted. “Do stay away from her and certainly don’t drink anything she offers you.”
“Why not?” he asked intrigued.
“She has some unusual hobbies.”
“Such as…?” He waited for a response. “Why doesn’t someone just give me a clear answer?”
“It’s awful what she does,” Gary said, shuddering. “She turns men, mainly knights, into statues. First she seduces them, and then brings them over to her house out in the woods. Once there, she gives them a potion to turn them into statues.”
“She’s got a whole collection,” Olive added.
“Why doesn’t someone stop her?”
“Why don’t you?” Gary retorted.
“Sorry. Gary’s just defensive because he was almost turned into a statue himself,” Olive explained, grinning. Tristen watched her curiously- a cat grin was an unusual sight.
“Just be wary of her,” Gary muttered.
Once outside, Tristen wrapped the coat Gary had lent him, tighter about himself. It was yet another chilly day. His eyes browsed over the many stands set out by villagers to sell their wares. One stand in particular caught his eye. A tanned boy with dark hair and eyes was selling expensive looking swords and daggers. He had begun to make his way over to it when the blonde haired woman stepped in front of him.
“Hello,” she greeted. “I never got your name.”
“No, you didn’t,” he responded curtly. She smiled, flashing white teeth. “Is there something you wanted?”
“Why, yes, actually,” she responded. “You look like a strong young man. Would you mind coming over to chop some firewood for me? I’m nearly out and it’s ever so cold.”
“Sure, why not?” If no one else was willing to stop the evil witch, then he’d do it. Her “collection” needed rescuing.
“What a kindhearted fellow you are,” she said, eagerly taking his arm. The villagers around them shot him worried glances. They knew exactly what was going on, but were too afraid to put a stop to it. Thanks for your help, he thought sourly.
Once again, the tan boy caught his eye. He was staring wide-eyed in distress, slowly inching towards them. Tristen winked, hoping he’d understand. The boy became visibly less tense and gave him the slightest nod.
“Taris!” a middle-aged man shouted. He looked like an older version of the boy. “Get back to the stand! Don’t you turn your back for a second, understand?” Sulkily, the boy bowed his head.
“It’s only about a fifteen minute walk from the village,” the witch was saying. “You have no idea how grateful I am, dear. You’ve certainly eased my mind. I was so worried I wouldn’t have enough wood to last me till the end of winter.”
“I’m happy to be of service, miss,” he said, unable to think of anything else to say.
As they traveled on, the witch babbled continuously. Tristen didn’t catch much of what she said because he was too preoccupied listening to what sounded like footsteps behind them. He looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever it was that was following them. But, the creature was very good at keeping hidden and as a result, remained unseen.
“What’s the matter?” Lianne questioned. “What are you looking for?”
“Hmm?” he asked. “Oh, uh, your house. Shouldn’t we be there by now?”
“It’s right up ahead,” she responded sweetly. “Would you like to come in? For a drink perhaps?”
“Oh, no thanks. Where’s the wood?”
“Please join me? I’d love some company.”
“Is it in there? What is that place?” he asked, referring to the building beside her rather large house.
“No, that’s just for storage,” she answered, forcing a smile.
“I don’t see an ax anywhere. Is that where you keep it?” Without waiting for her to reply, he sprinted towards it. He tried to jerk the door open, but it wouldn’t budge. “It’s locked,” he announced.
“Of course it is,” the witch sounded slightly annoyed. “And, no, that’s not where I store my ax. Now please, come inside with me.”
“But the wood-”
“It can wait.” She set a hand on his shoulder. “Come inside.”
“I really think-” he began. Her eyes flashed dangerously.
“He told you,” she hissed. “I thought I’d frightened all of them badly enough to keep quiet. Obviously, my scare tactics didn’t work on some people.” She stuck her chin up. “So now what?”
“Excuse me?”
“What? Are you going to kill me?” she asked. “What’s your plan?”
“Give me the key.”
“You think I’ll just hand it over? Like that?” she giggled. Tristen unsheathed his sword. “Go ahead,” she taunted. “Stick it in my heart. Chop off my head.”
“I’d rather you just hand me the key.”
“Do you think that I’m not ready for this? That you’re the first person to try and stop my wicked ways?”
“So I assume that you aren’t going to give it over?” Smirking, she flicked some sort of dust at him. Tristen watched in astonishment as his sword began to deteriorate at an alarming speed. “You wrecked my sword.”
“Oh dear, I’m sorry.”
Tristen dropped the now useless sword. Perhaps he should’ve come up with a better plan- or any plan at all. This was not at all the way it had played out in his head. Feeling utterly stupid and useless, he looked up at her with resignation.
“This won’t hurt, I promise,” she said. “It’ll all be over very quickly. I’ll even allow you to decide in what position you’d like to be in.”
A flicker at the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was the boy- Taris. He sat up in a tree branch, watching him. Apparently, he had been the one following them. “Thanks for your… thoughtfulness, but I’d really rather not be turned into a statue today.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” the witch said, grinning. “I do rather like you.” Tristen snuck another glance at Taris and saw that in his hands was a large rock. It was a distraction, Tristen realized. He glanced down to the backup dagger at his ankle. Relief flooded through him. He was definitely ready. Looking back up, he gave the boy the tiniest of nods. On command, Taris hurled the stone as far as he could. Startled, the witch spun around. Quick as a flash, Tristen pulled out the dagger and slid it up to her neck.
The witch let out a gasp of astonishment. Her eyes widened in fear. “Please,” she began.
“No!” Taris shouted. “Kill her- before she can cast a spell!” Tristen paused indecisively. “Now!” Murdering a helpless woman, even if she was a wicked witch, didn’t seem right. Then again, Taris was correct. Just because she had no visible weapons, didn’t make her helpless. She did have her spells and potions. Perhaps she was working one on him this very moment. He thrust the dagger forward, into her neck. The cut was quick and clean.
The witch made no sound- she hadn’t enough time. Wincing, Tristen watched her fall to the ground, blood oozing everywhere. In disgust, he turned away from the gruesome sight. He saw that Taris had leaped down from the branch and come to stand a few feet away.
“Thank you,” he said to the boy. “You did a very brave thing.”
“All I did was throw a rock,” the boy replied. “You killed her. I owe you thanks.”
“You do?”
“My older brother is in there,” he responded, motioning to the locked building. “The witch captured him last year. Do you have the key?” Tristen shook his head. Both turned toward the witch. “She’s got a purse.” Tristen averted his eyes as he knelt down to seize Lianne’s purse. Opening it, he found a variety of colored potions, a handful of coins, and a single silver key. He dropped the bloody purse after retracting the key.
“Would you like to?” Tristen inquired, offering it to Taris. The boy took the key and turned toward the door. He took a deep breath before sticking it into the lock and turning. Taris looked fleetingly over at Tristen; trying to hide a smile as he pushed open the door.
Inside the dim room were at least forty statues of mostly young men. “They didn’t-” Taris began in confusion. “They’re still statues.” He turned to the witch. “The witch is dead, her spells are supposed to disappear along with her.” For a moment, both merely stared at one another in confusion. Tristen had always heard the same thing. He’d even witnessed it once before. But why wasn’t it working this time?
Looking back down at the witch, Tristen thought he saw her chest move the tiniest bit. “Perhaps she’s not completely dead yet.” Bending down, he plunged the dagger deeper into her throat. She let out a shudder then lay still. Tristen gulped, he’d meant for the kill to be swift, he hadn’t wanted any suffering- even if she did deserve it.
Standing back up and peered in through the building door, he saw that the statues were no longer statues. Instead, standing in their place was a group of lively looking men. Looking perplexed, they began moving- some yawning or stretching, others merely blinking.
“Adonis!” Taris cried out, breaking the silence. He darted over to a young dark-haired fellow.
“Are you all… alright?” Tristen asked hesitantly.
“Did you save us?” the voice belonged to that of a sandy haired man dressed in armor.
“Yes, he slew the witch!” Taris said, pointing to where her corpse lay. A cheer went up and the crowd emerged from the structure. Tristen smiled weakly as many came forward to pat his back.
Disliking all the attention, Tristen resolved to escape as soon as he could. “He doesn’t look like much, but don’t let that fool you!” he heard someone shout. In embarrassment, he ducked his head.
“Are you a knight?” someone else inquired.
“Yes.”
“Do you need a squire?” He was about to refuse, when he realized it was Taris speaking. The lad looked up at him pleadingly, his dark eyes round. Still, he was unsure he wanted another young traveling companion. Yet, he had showed he contained many good qualities about him; he was able to sneak around, climb trees, and seemed to be rather bright, also most likely knew how to wield a sword as he must’ve been around them quite a bit.
“I suppose I could use one,” he decided.
“May I-?” he began, shyly but stopped.
“Yes, of course.”
“Thank you, sir!” he said fervently, a broad grin covering face.
“I’m leaving this village tomorrow,” he told the boy. “If you’d still like to be my squire by then, I’ll meet you by your sword stand at dawn.” The boy nodded eagerly. Tristen couldn’t help but smile a little at his enthusiasm. “In the meantime, I’ve got to get out of here, so I suppose I’ll see you then.”

By the time Tristen returned to Gared’s tower, it was dusk. As he neared the doors, he noticed the black cat sitting outside it, casually licking a paw. “Hello, Olive,” he greeted. She glanced up at him with an unusual expression on her cat face.
“Hello, Tristen,” she said. “You had a big day today, didn’t you? Slaying that witch Lianne.”
“So you heard?”
“Of course. Everyone has by now,” she informed him. “Oh, and you told us you’d be back in an hour.”
“Sorry.”
“I’m only joking,” she assured him.
“How’s Aurora?”
“She’s perfectly fine, though has been a little fussy all day,” the voice belonged to Gary. Tristen hadn’t even heard him open the door. “So how is our hero, eh?”
“Tired. And hungry.”
“Well, get inside then!” he insisted. “Supper’s been ready for quite some time now.”

Part Three

The brunette-haired daughter of the Slithen King parried the squire’s lunge and then blocked his next attack. Ignoring the sweat dripping from his brow, the squire feinted to escape the princess’s dull practice sword as it came slicing straight for him. Her next attack resulted in his own practice sword being flung from his hands.
“Amazing,” he breathed. Raina beamed with delight.
“Raina!” She recognized the voice instantly- it belonged to her fencing master. “Raina, come quickly!” Following the voice, she found herself racing down the main stairs, skipping two at a time.
“Yes?” she asked as soon as she’d reached the bottom floor. Her fencing master gave her a disapproving look before saying anything.
“Your father has sent for you to return to the castle.”
“What? Why?” she asked in surprise. “I’m not finished with my lessons yet!”
“Yes, I’m well aware of that. But you should be aware that it is very dangerous for you here. Dragons now roam this land freely, killing people at will ever since the Agreement between humans and dragons was broken.” Raina nodded, she knew all about it.
One incredibly dim knight- Sir Alexander, she believed- had gotten the idea to cross over into dragon territory despite the fact that they’d established the Agreement with the dragons long before. The Agreement stated that as long as the humans didn’t enter dragon territory then the dragons wouldn’t cross over into the human territory. But, the knight had got it into his head to make a suit of armor from the scales of dragons and as a result, broke the Agreement.
“But it’s safe here!” she protested.
“Not half as safe as it is at the castle,” he reminded her. “Your father wants you to be packed and ready by tomorrow morning, is that understood?” The princess nodded resentfully.
“Yes,” she grumbled. “Although, I really do think I’m old enough to take care of myself.”
“Of course you do.”
“Is he sending Olive and Emma back home too?” she demanded. “They’re both younger than I. If neither of them is headed back to the castle, I shouldn’t have to go either.”
“Raina, I think you forget that your sister Emma is a very powerful witch,” the man said. “She is very capable of taking care of herself.” Raina made a face.
“And Olive?”
“Princess Olive has been missing for several weeks,” he responded. “I’m sure that the king has knights out searching for her, however.”
“What about Jana?”
“Princess Jana isn’t even in Slithe!” he snapped. “She’s in Githen. And don’t even ask about Princess Corinne or Prince Daniel.”
“I wasn’t going to. Corinne is married and Daniel is obviously already at the palace,” Raina retorted.
“Please go pack,” he sighed. Glowering, the princess stalked off.

Part Four

Tristen stroked his horse’s nose. “There’s a good boy, Bryony,” he whispered. He shot a glance at the basket tied to his saddle. Much to Olive’s displeasure, he had insisted upon bringing his young sister along with them. He couldn’t just leave her, despite the fact that he knew it would make things much easier.
“Where has your squire gone?” Olive demanded- she sat in a basket tied to Taris’s horse in the same manner.
“You’ve finally decided to wake up?” Tristen said, smirking.
“For some reason, I’ve been much sleepier ever since I became a cat,” she responded seriously.
“Taris went hunting,” he informed her. “But he should be back any minute.” They’d been on the road for two days now and so far had not run into any trouble- none they couldn’t handle, at least. A few wild animals had attacked, but nothing too serious.
“Is that him there? I’m starving.” Tristen stared hard at the figure she spoke of. It most certainly wasn’t Taris. Although he was too far off to see very clearly, Tristen could tell that he was much too tall to be his squire. Instinctively, his hand flew to the sword at his side- Taris and his father had kindly provided him with a new one, free of charge.
“Taris!” Tristen called when he saw the boy coming toward them, two rabbits in his hands. “Stay close.” A look of confusion passed over his face, and then he spotted the man steadily nearing them.
“Taris, you’re back?” Olive said. “Then who’s that?” Of course, it wasn’t unusual to see strangers while out traveling, but to see a single man roaming around by foot was quite strange.
“What should we do?” Taris questioned, his hand encircling the short sword hanging at his waist. Tristen hesitated; they could refuse his company, or allow him to join them.