[Continuted from here]
While
Quinton was busy examining the bark of a paper birch, and trying to peel of a
long strip of bark, Beranwen cast her eyes around the forest and thought.
Nereus had described some trophies from other people's quests. He had mentioned
the pebble collected by Duke Tarrabon, of course - everyone knew about the
Duke's pebble - but he had mentioned a couple that she hadn't heard of. A pine
cone, a broken knife, even a live rabbit. No one was quite sure how a Mad Man
had managed to catch a live rabbit - not even his advisor - but the creature
had lived in splendour in a large filigreed cage for four months, until the
lord had taken it out to cuddle and it had run away. Generally, advisors kept a
look out for something eye catching and portable. Occasionally, their lord
would fix their own eyes on something less practical, like a tree, or someone
else's house. However much they argued that there was plenty of room for the
house to be moved into the study, or the tree put up in the hall, the advisor
was there to gentle suggest a memento instead - a leaf, say, or a trimming of
thatch - before turning for home.
"That
looks like a hand."
Beranwen
spun in her saddle. Quinton was staring off into the trees, away from the road.
He pointed when he saw her looking.
"It
was right there, but it moved when I spoke."
"A
hand?"
"It
was a hand. Let's go look."
"There
are no hands here!" A voice cried suddenly. Quinton stopped, halfway down
from his horse.
"Did
you say that?" He asked.
"No,
m'lord. Hold on..." Beranwen dismounted, and cautiously walked to the edge
of the path.
"We
didn't mean to disturb you, sir," She called back. "But my lord is on
a quest. Could we speak to you? Do you know this forest well?"
"I
don't know it at all." The voice replied, curt and cross. "Go
away."
"Very
well. We're sorry to have..." All of a sudden, Quinton was rushing into
the forest with a grin spread over his face. "My lord!" Beranwen
cried. "Stop, you mustn't..."
"I
want to see the man." He called back. Swearing, Beranwen had no choice but
to follow.
"I
said go away!" The voice called out again. "Don't you have any manners? Go a.... well,
bugger."
Quinton
reached the side of a fallen tree and had pulled up short. For once, he seemed
speechless. As quick as she could, Beranwen caught up with him.
"Sir,
I'm terribly sor... oh."
"Sorry,
was that? You came running over here anyway, didn't you? After I asked you not
to? You can keep your sorrys. What are you staring at?"
"Your
legs..." Quinton pointed. The man they had found, propped up against the
fallen tree, chuckled.
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