Day 42
[Somewhere above Whiteriver]

	The skies were blue, and filled with herds of fluffy white clouds
like flocks of aerial sheep.  Birds floated through the air, the occasional
dragon among them shining like a jewel in the sunlight.  Far below, the
farmlands and forests lay like a rumpled tapestry stiched with rivers,
pushed up against the towering mountain walls of the Dragonlands.
	Of course, Terau saw none of it, only heard the song of birds and
felt the cool fingers of wind ruffle his hair as his draconic conveyance
glided towards Whiteriver Warren.

-----
[Merissa's Office]

	"You handled it well, my dear,"  Terau said, leaning against the
doorframe.  "You shouldn't fret."
	Merissa gasped in shock.  "Terau!?  What?  When...?"
	He laughed and moved into the room, feeling for a chair.  "One
question at a time, my dear.  Which would you like me to answer first?"
	She shuffled some papers around on her desk.  "How long have you
been standing there?"
	"Long enough to hear you talking to yourself," he said
off-handedly, feeling for a chair and sliding into it.  "It's an awful
habit to have, you know -- gives people all sorts of odd impressions about
one.  You really should look into breaking it."
	"I'm sure," she replied dryly.  "So how was your trip?"
	He shrugged.  "Better than the last one, I suppose.  Certainly not
as, hmm, interesting as that one.  The usual dragonflight -- chill, fast,
and dry, o course."  He licked his lips suggestively, and rolled his eyes
in her general direction.
	"Of course.  What would you like to drink?"
	"Brandy would be nice."
	She made a soft, strangled noise.  "I have water."
	"You have a hangover."
	"That too."
	"That's my girl," he said proudly, face following her movements as
she fetched a pitcher and poured him a glass of water, pressing it into his
hand.  He sipped; it was cool and fresh and tasted faintly of lemons.
"This will do, I suppose," he said, leaning back in the chair.
	Merissa's own chair creaked as she leaned backwards, tapping her
fingers idly on the arm.  "So . . . what brings you here, Terau?"
	He smiled disarmingly, and sipped his water.  "I wanted to express
my congratulations in person on your recent achievements."
	"Thank you.  Is that all?"
	"Are you implying that I have an ulterior motive?"
	"You always have an ulterior motive."
	"It isn't enough to want to see you again, my dear?"
	She snorted.  "First of all, you can't see.  Secondly, you're a
devious and tricky old man by nature, and I don't think matching wits with
Cyrano on a daily basis has made you anything but sharper.  Out with it."
	He smiled and shook his head, tsking lightly.  "Since you insist .
. . it's true, I'm not entirely here on my own behalf."
	"How strange," she mused.  "Leonidas is already here, as a Bardic
representative.  Odd that there's two of you, unless one is supposed to
keep the proverbial eye on the other?"
	"Bardic?  Did I mentioned Bardic?  I didn't come from Bardic."
	"You didn't?  I thought Cyrano--"
	"We haven't been getting along too well lately, my dear.  Actually
had a bit of a falling out with him the other day.  Most regrettable, you
know."
	"Oh.  I'm sorry to hear that, Terau."
	"Eh, things happen."
	"So . . . if you're not here as Bardic's representative, whose are
you?"
	"Someone else's."
	"Obviously," Merissa snorted.  "Does Mother know you're here?"
	Terau held a hand to his head, a pained look upon hise face.
"Please.  And if you could somehow arrange it not to be brought to her
notice, I'd be very grateful to you, my dear."
	"I see.  Well, I might as well fill you in on what you missed this
morning . . . "

*****
[Evening in the Dining Hall]

	"Analise, she's the one you have to watch out for," Telaran said
guilelessly to his taller companion.  "Da says that if you open up a
bestiary and look under the entry for harpy, there's a picture of her
there."
	"Oh.  Well, how does he know that?  He can't see the pictures anyway."
	Telaran shrugged, and looked around.  "I dunno.  But it's true."
	"How do you know if it's true or not?  Have you ever seen her in
the bestiary?"
	"No.  But if Da says so, then it must be true."
	Horatio sighed and steered the boy over towards the long,
food-laden side tables.  "Are you hungry yet?  You've been talking non-stop
all day, you must be hungry.  Kids your age are always hungry."
	"Are not," Telaran retorted, seizing a plate and piling it high
with all sorts of foods from the groaning board.  "You know," he said
between mouthfuls, after they had found space at one of the tables.  "You
really don't need to babysit me.  I'm not a little kid anymore."
	"I'm not babysitting you," Horatio replied evenly as he spooned
gravy over his potatoes.  "I'm watching out for you, like I'm supposed to
be doing."
	"Not me.  You're supposed to be looking out for my Da.  I'm
fourteen, I can take care of myself."
	"Well, he's not here, is he?"
	Telaran stuck his tongue out at the older youth, and grinned
impishly.  "It's not /my/ fault you lost him."
	"I didn't lose him, I left him at the meetings that he was supposed
to be at."
	"And he didn't wait for you to come back and fetch him, right," the
boy said, shoveling the last of his food into his mouth.  "He's probably
off somewhere flirting with Merissa or some other girl, and in that case,
he wouldn't want you hanging around anyway.  You could sit here and wait
for him to show up, but would that be any fun?  I don't think so, but suit
yourself.  See ya!"
	"/I/ think so," Horatio said, leaning quickly across the table to
grab the boy's wrist.  "And I don't think you should go running off by
yourself.  Sit down.
	Telaran sat.  "We're in the Warren, Horatio.  What could happen in
the Warren?"
	What could happen, indeed?  Horatio sighed, and began ticking off
counts on his fingers.  "You could trip and get hurt.  Fall in the river
and get washed downstream.  You could run afoul of the soldiers across the
river.  A dragon could mistake you for dinner."
	"I always look where I'm going, I can swim better than any of the
kids back in Ralengarde could, I'm faster than any ol' soldier, and if a
dragon was stupid enough to eat me, he'd get horrible indigestion and then
he'd deserve it anyway."  With a cheerful nod, Telaran grabbed his empty
plate and started to rise.
	"No.  Sit.  We'll finish dinner, and then we'll go look for your
father."
	Obediently, Telaran sat again.  "Don't have to go looking.  He'll
get hungry eventually, and when he does, he'll come here."
	"And how's he supposed to get here?"
	"Someone will bring him.  All he has to do is smile at people, and
they'll help him do whatever he wants.  People like him.  If you won't let
me go by myself, then you should come with me. He's not going to show up
any time soon, and since he takes his time eating there's plenty enough to
go have some fun.  Come on."
	"I'm not even done with my dinner," Horatio said grumpily.  "Where
would we be going, anyway?"
	Telaran shrugged.  "I dunno.  Somewhere else.  Outside.  Maybe down
to the bazaar, it stays open late."
	"No."
	"So . . . I can't go by myself."
	"Right."
	"And you won't go with me."
	"Right."
	"So . . . . I guess I just have to sit here and be bored until my
Da shows up."
	"Right again.  You're such a smart kid."
	"Thank you."  After a few silent moments of watching Horatio eat,
Telaran spoke up again.  "You want some dessert?  I want some dessert.
There's cakes on that table over there," he said, pointing.  "You mind if I
go get a cake?"
	Horatio looked at the nearby cake table, and nodded.  "Sure, go get
a cake.  I don't want one, thanks."  Out of the corner of his eye, he
watched as the boy scrutinized the cakes, finally picking one up for
himself.  Turning, Telaran paused, looking towards the entrance, and
suddenly waved furiously with his free hand at someone coming through the
door.  Terau?  Horatio turned and peered at the people near the door, but
the blind Bard was not among them.  And when he looked back towards the
cake table, the boy was gone.

	With a sigh, Horatio propped his head on one hand and poked his
fork wearily at his gravy-soaked potatoes with the other.  A fine end to a
day that, truthfully, hadn't started out terribly well to begin with.  The
bard was late waking, which gave his fussy housekeeper ample time to
double-check every one of Horatio's preparations herself, right down to
going over the riding harness for faults real or imagined.  They'd returned
to the house three times to retrieve forgotten things, causing the
housekeeper to find yet another absolutely necessary item to add to the
already bulging luggage in addition to whatever they'd had to go back for
in the first place.  His orders, written out and carefully kept in his
breast pocket so as not to be lost, were explicit in the fact that he was
to allow nothing untoward to happen to the blind bard or his son, and yet
before lunch the three of them had managed to take multiple wrong turns
through the streets of several little towns, eaten two bad apples bought
from an old woman covered in more dirt than clothes, and spilled half a
skin of ale all over Horatio's second-best tunic.  He gritted his teeth,
and inwardly cursed whomever had told him that escort duty was easy.
	"Horn," he bespoke the stocky brown dragon with a mental sigh.
"Wake up, please.  Do you see that kid?"
	<<What kid?>> the dragon asked lazily.
	"Excuse me," someone said by the errant boy's vacated seat.  "Is
someone sitting here?"
	Horatio shook his head absently, and waved his potato-smeared fork.
"Not anymore, go ahead.  You know which kid."
	<<Relax, don't worry,>> Horn replied lazily.  <<What could happen
to him in the Warren?>>
	It's not what the Warren might do to Telaran that I'm worried
about, Horatio told himself.  It's what Telaran might do to the Warren.

*****
NRPG:  Ok, folks, here we is.  Terau'll be a mostly silent listener during
the meetings, don't worry.  :)

	So, who wants to sit next to a rider having a very very bad day?  :)

-Mia
Terau & Telaran, Bard and company.
Horatio & Horn, WR

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"Some days even wearing my lucky rocketship underwear doesn't help."
        - Calvin (from Calvin & Hobbes)

Mia Karen Sherman <shatavari@flashcom.net>
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