Spirits of the Earth

"Trillium?"

Trillium Delancy sneered. What did the woman want now? Already she was working the poor girl to the bone, training day and ngiht and night and day! Making her meditate and attend mass regularly - every day! - and memorize useless creeds and facts and histories and other boring, idiotic facts. In the utterly wretched situation that was now her life, Trillium laid the blame squarely on the shoulders of Lydia Rosenthal, the Knight of the White Lily tasked with training the insolent young noblelady. So Trillium glared up at the older woman as she entered the workshop where she was made to slave away sharpening swords and axes, polishing armour, and other tasks that were completely beneath her. And her glare intensified when she saw that Lydia looked happy. That never meant anything good for Trillium.

"What?" came the girl's surly response. "Are you going to make me toil even more like a slave, rather than the noble - "

But Lydia held up a hand which, miraculously, turned Trillium's words into a glower. Even that was progress over where they had been when Trillium first joined. Then there had been nearly nothing the Adhara could do to silence the endless complaints of her young apprentice. "These tasks are necessary, Trillium," Lydia answered lightly, "and until you're willing to work hard on mastering the proper skills of a Knight, we'll keep you busy doing some hard work."

In response, Trillium rolled her eyes.

"Hm. Well, I'm glad you feel that way, because I have a new assignment for you." Great. What would the slave master set her to now? "There's a small village outside of the city that's asked for our protection. It's a small village, and a poor one, and they have limited resources. Fear has spread among the people of a malicious wood witch that has been poisoning their fields and sneaking into their homes and cursing their food." Lydia talked over the growing look of shock and indignation on Trillium's face. "It's been a hard year for agriculture, and we don't think their fears have any basis in reality, but having a Knight in the village for awhile will boost the people's spirits. Which is invaluable these days."

"Awhile? How long is 'awhile?!' You want me to trudge around some muddy farming shanty town full of peasants and act like -"

Lydia cleared her throat, and again Trillium closed her mouth, glaring dourly. "We wouldn't normally send a Knight on a task like this, but when I heard of it, I requested that you especially be assigned to it. I thought you would be glad for some time away from training and, more importantly, I thought some time spent actually serving the people of the country might do you some good. It's a chance for you to gain a sense of perspective." In reality, of course, Lydia had snapped up an opportunity that might take Trillium down a peg or two. "Instill some humility in you. That's an important part of our work, Trillium."

"I certainly will not! I'm a lady! You can't send me out there to...! To...! With those... dirt people!"

"There is one man in particular who has been concerned about the wood witch," Lydia continued, ignoring Trillium's outburst. "He's an older man: feeble and worried about the safety of his self and his home. He hasn't any children, so the village has requested that you pay special attention to him."

"But... but... what if there really is a witch?" Trillium demanded. She could not believe Lydia was doing this to her! "What do I do then?"

Now Lydia's smile widened. "Just what we've done in training. Your Adharaism is unusually strong, Trillium. I am confident that you will be able to handle whatever you encounter there. And if you find you have difficulties, perhaps it will inspire you to dedicate more time to your training."

And that was that. Before she knew it, Trillium found herself trudging through the muddy fields beets and cabbages on her way to this godforsaken little village. Dressed in smart leather armor (she'd flatly refused to wear mail!) with her dark, long hair braided and a black-pommeled longsword slung over her back, Trillium looked every part a Knight of the White Lily. Her youth, rather than detracting from this, only reminded the villages of the original Adhara. The relief and happiness at her arrival was palpable. Trillium could not have hated it more!

Some things were just easier said than done.  And as could be expected Tenran was not happy about any of it.  The bounty should have been easy, should have been a piece of autumn pumpkin pie!  But instead it was just quickly becoming a pain in the ass.  The bounty was a lucrative one on some old fart that went by the name of Josef Bonacher, a thief, conman, and a dirty lech.  That alone was reason enough to off the 60 year old bastard.  However, it seemed the primary quandary was that people had a hard time singling him out from the usual rabble of garbage that ended up on the local bounty list.

Tenran was dogged, frustrated, but dogged and wouldn't let the bastard get out of his grasp so easily.  Where he may have evaded the clutches of other bounty hunters after him, Tenran had enough of a good description, and committed it to memory enough to be capable of finding and identifying him.  Tenran had the luck to have Liana sketch him out three possible portraits from the description he had; and her hand proved well and true. 

Most if not all people he questioned about the man, seemed to settle on one in particular.  An older man with small beady eyes beneath white caterpillar-like brows.  Hair grew patchily on his head, coming up in wild tufts about his ears and sideburns.  A thick, ugly beard grew from his stubby chin, billowing out from underneath his crooked nose like overgrown weeds, gnarled and nasty.

The most recent lead told him Bonacher was hold up somewhere in the vicinity of a small farming community deep in the hills of the Valley, no doubt feeling comfortable enough to come up with his latest scheme.  Rumours of a witch were pouring out of the woodwork and there wasn't a doubt in the bounty hunter's mind that Bonacher would find some way to cash in on the locals' fear.

The sky was uncooperative and muggy clouds proved to want to dampen his progress when he finally trudged through the mud between huts and mud-brick houses.  A hood was draped over his head and dabbled here and there with heavy raindrops.  He was a little cold, but his leather armor provided enough comfort and insulation to at least keep him dry.  There were worse things than a little a little rain.

"Bonacher, I wonder what name you're hiding under now?" Tenran grumbled to himself. 

He supposed the best place to start would be with asking the locals.  So when he  knocked on the door of a young couple, Tenran braved the cold welcome and presented the portrait sketch to them.  "I'm sorry to bother you on such a lovely day, my good man," Tenran said cleverly, with a flashing grin.  "But I was just wondering if you would happen to know where I can find my old uncle!  You see, him and my father haven't been speaking for years, some old feud that's been going on since before I was born, and I've been trying to find him, to give him a letter he wrote just before he died.  He hadn't the courage to give it to him the few chances he had before he died.  As his son, it was the least I could do for him, and for my uncle."

The husband in the doorway, seemingly fresh on army leave, was moved by his words – and Tenran was inwardly amused at the thought that he actually fell for it – and took a good look at the picture.  "Well, I'm sure that must be old Albrecht Darroway, lives in a li'l old shack down at the base of the hill due west of the village.  My wife told me he's a-gonna find a way to break the witch's curse.  But we ought to watch out just in case she tries to take revenge or stop him.  Your uncle, he's a right smart man, Mr. ..er."

"Thank you so much, good sir.  Here for your troubles.  Sorry to cut our talk so short, but thank you for your time.  I must be going now," Tenran quickly took his sketch back and in doing so, slipped the man a coin in his hand before pocketing it and stepping away, heading toward the western edge of town.  The man had told him interesting bits of information, that Bonacher planned somehow to break a witch's curse, no doubt the apparent 'cause' of the poor crop produced in the village.  He wondered what sort of complexities the old fart was trying to pull to steal what gold he could from these poor superstitious folk.

The house wasn't difficult to spot, and he did the only thing he felt was right to do, and he knocked on the thin shack door.  "Mr. Darroway!  Mr. Darroway, I've seen her!  I've seen the witch!"

Josef Bonacher was no fool. The 'harmless old man' spent as little time alone as possible. None if he could help it! And the big-hearted villagers were only too happy to pay visits and help care for the kindly old man who'd proven such a boon to their community! So when the knocking and cries about a witch came at 'Mr. Darroway's' door, it was a terror-stricken middle-aged woman who opened the door to find Tenran.

"The witch?! You seen her?" she asked, mouth agape. "Oh lord and mercy me! Someone call the Knight!"

Another woman, younger and by the looks of it the woman's daughter, ran to join the first at the door.  "You've seen the witch?" she aske Tenran directly, a bit more collected than the older woman. "Where was she? Was she attacking anyone? Is everyone okay."

Her questions were intercut by the older woman's loud cries for, "Lady Delancy! Adhara! Lady Delancy!" Only then, after both women had seen this new man and were standing between Tenran and the house, did 'Mr. Darroway' appear behind them, the loud 'knock knock knock' of his walking stick on the hardwood floors announcing his approach. He might be, by first appearance, old and feeble, but his eyes were still sharp and clear and registered immediately that Tenran was not one of the villagers or even one of the seasonal farmhands. A young boy, presumably the son of the younger woman, accompanied him, helping him along.

"Yes," he agreed in his grizzled old voice, then nodded to the  "fetch the Knight of the White Lily."

Trillium, meanwhile, had been hanging idly about Darroway's farm, feeding acorns to the pigs. Or, rather, throwing acorns in the direction of the pigs. She'd already heard some of the commotion when little Eoin Connor came running wildly in her direction, the fear of god blazing in his eyes. Trillium had, as much as she'd tried very not to like any of the filthy peasants here, developed some sort of friendship with the young boy. Not the kind where they were actually 'friends' in the traditional sense, but the sort where she tolerated his presence and he was in awe of her. "Trillium, Trillium!" he cried as he approached. "The witch! A man has come and said he saw the witch! He's at Mr. Darroway's! Oh, save us, Trillium!"

Great. There wasn't even supposed to be a witch! Just a bunch of superstitious townsfolk and a sadistic trainer who wanted her mentee to suffer in this mudhole. And what would she do if there was a witch? She had no idea! Tackle it, maybe, to force the creature into the influence of her Adharaism and then get one of the villagers to hog tie the village? Well, it seemed like as good a plan as any. If utterly undignified. Maybe the witch would just see her with the crest of the white lily on her armor and... take off on her own. That'd be fine. Trillium liked that plan much better.

It wasn't long after Eoin had flown from 'Mr. Darroway's' shack before Trillium marched towards the little assembly (her marching, it might be noted, looked suspiciously like an unhappy child who was stomping) with her perpetually surly expression. She pulled up just short of the gathering, then straightened herself as an afterthought, and regarded Tenran, chin raised, with an air of haughtiness. This was, perhaps, the only trait of an Adhara that was genuine on her. "Where, um, is the witch?" she demanded, not trying half as hard to sound tough and authoritative as she ought.

The least of his expectations would be to find two others in his midst.  But the last thing he needed to do was to allow himself to underestimate the intelligence and foresight of one such as Josef Bonacher.  He didn't get to be his ripe old age by being an idiot, as most young idealistic warriors tended to be.  They rushed headlong into the fray with no care for the consequences, and end up the dead fools they wanted to be all along.  But those that utilized what brains they had could more or less see through to the next day.  Well, most of them.

And Josef Bonacher was certainly among them.

Despite the initial surprise and watching the little boy scurrying out from the two women that blocked the door, Tenran nodded to the both of them and moved to allow them exit from the doorway, just as Bonacher was behind them, using them as human shields , as it were.  "Yes!  I saw her on my way through the hills.  I didn't think the rumors were true," Tenran played along, perfectly molding his face into a look of despair and grief.  He turned and saw the Knight approaching them and immediately ran to her side, holding arm.

"You've got to do something!   I saw her!  Oh, Heaven's Fire!  I saw her and she was dreadful to behold.  You're a knight of the While Lily?  You must do something.  She is East of here, in the hills.  I was just passing through, when I heard the story from Alterstad Inn, you know the one up the road from here.  And he told me to beware the witch's curse.  I thought it all folly until I saw her with my own eyes!"  Tenran was livid and the both girls shrieked and held their hands to their mouths, trying to quell their fear.

Bonacher regarded him with small eyes and pulled out a piece of twig that got entangled in his thick gnarled beard somehow.  But at the growing anxiety between the women and the small boy, he held his tongue for the moment.

"And she's coming this way!  She's coming!  By Ansgar's wrath.  She had the most horrid beady eyes I've ever seen, like black diamonds and she gazed not just at me, but through me, as if she could yank my very soul from my body without warning at all.  But she must have known I was coming this way.  She wanted me to tell you Mr. Darroway!  The innkeeper, he told me you were helping here, that you had a plan to drive her away!  But oh...god...I don't know if I could ever sleep again.  Just the thought of darkness makes me quake with fear."

The older woman quickly turned to Bonacher and grabbed at his shoulders, then looked at Trillium pleadingly.  "Please!  You've got to do something!  We haven't had a proper crop in so long, we'll soon starve to death if she doesn't get us first!  Lady Delancy please!"

"Now, wait, wait!" Bonacher suddenly cried out, throwing his hands up, seemingly in an attempt to keep order of the situation, but even Tenran could see the annoyance in his eyes.  "He said he saw the witch!  But he didn't say how far she was from here.  Can you tell us then, traveler, just where you saw her?"

Tenran trembled and moved closer to the old man, making his eyes wider and crazed in their appearance.  Bonacher visibly leaned back as Tenran lightly pressed a hand on his shoulder.  It took everything he had not to puke at the wretched smell of the old man for even barnyard animals smelled better than he did.  "I was but a day's out when I saw her.  Can't you tell from the redness of my eyes? I couldn't sleep, I rushed here as fast as I could.  It was horrible..."  And before Bonacher could say anything, Tenran took his hand from his shoulder and clamped his hands together like a hammer, shortly before slamming them into Bonacher's gut and making him double over in pain, and stumbling backwards.

The women shrieked and little Eoin clung to Trillium's leg, crying out, "Mr. Darroway!"

"Trick's up, Mr. Bonacher.  Time to say goodbye to these lovely people," Tenran grumbled as he reached down and plucked the old man by his shirt, giving him a good shake.

"He's in league with the witch! Help, oh help!"

The older woman cried this out while the younger stood frozen between her and the two men, as if uncertain if she should act or not, or what she might do.

"We have to do something! Come on!" This time it was little Eoin. Trillium had just shaken the boy from her leg when he decided he could also be brave like a knight (not that Trillium was being particularly brave herself) and flew from the girl's side and forced his little body between the bounty hunter and the old man. "You stop it! Don't hurt Mr. Darroway! He's going to save us from the witch!"

Through this whole thing, Trillium hadn't managed to get a word in edgewise with all the clucking from this 'traveler' and the two village women. She'd thought at first that Tenran was being rather an old hen about the whole thing. Maybe he was disturbed. But then the action had started faster than Trillium could process it, and Eoin threw himself into the fray before she could grab him.

Great. Just great.

Lydia had said nothing was going to happen on this assignment. It was just meant for Trillium to have to drag herself through the mud and hang about with these boring, dirty peasants for a few weeks. There wasn't even meant to be a witch! Much less a witch's sidekick or whatever this guy was. Now he was attacking an old man and maybe even a child if she didn't do something. She didn't want to do something, but for Angsar's sake, even she knew you couldn't just stand idly by while some loon threw about geriatrics and children. Now she would have to get involved... maybe physically!... everyone was looking to her now, she knew. But she was a lady! She wasn't meant to fight or put herself in danger or... any of this distasteful business. Curse witches and all their little henchmen! Everyone, it seemed, had it out for her.

So resignedly, Trillium drew her blade and held it out unconvincingly in front of her, taking a step or two towards Tenran. His back was to her, she supposed she could just hit him while his attention was on Eoin and Darroway. But she didn't want to hit anyone, not with a sword, and with blood everywhere! She hated the lot of it. Despite how much she might hate it, though, and how unenthused she looked with the blade now, swordsmanship had been one thing in training that she had managed to do okay at, despite her best efforts not to. Still, that doesn't mean she wanted to have to use the blade for real. On a real person. With other real people actually, really depending on her for her safety!

"Okay, alright, look here, you," she said  as she approached Tenran, reticently trying to sound authoritative, "step back from the old man and, uh, don't touch the boy. Or I'll, I'll... your sorcery won't work here, wizard, you just... stand back. Don't make me, you know, slice you up, or... I'll do it, too!"

Tenran would not be bothered by the little boy, whose futile attempts to save "Albrecht Darroway" proved to be more annoying than effective.  What was more, when the Knight pulled out her sword and lamely held it against him, Tenran gave her a wide-eyed glare from over his shoulder.  "You better put that knife down before you get hurt, little girl!" he growled at her, pay her little mind.  But still, he knew a blade in unskilled hands were just as dangerous, if not more, than adept ones and he wasn't about to take any chances.

If she was really a Knight of the White Lily, maybe there was a chance she would listen to reason.  and the little punches and shoves the boy was striking against him were really starting to piss him off.  he nudged him away like an excitable dog and grit his teeth at the young Knight.  "I'm not witch's fool or lackey!  This man here is a wanted criminal in at least three provinces, for theft, conspiracy, and many other crimes rather too heinous to name!  Isn't that right, Mr. Josef Bonacher?"  Tenran shook his collar a little and Bonacher howled and tried feebly to break his grip.

"I know no one by that ridiculous name!  Now unhand me, you heathen!" Darroway huffed and chuffed.

"Bonacher, if you don't come quickly, I'll have to take you by force!"

"The Witch!  By Ansgar, he's in league with the her!" the woman cried.

"That's just a farce, I'm sure Bonacher has sold you to con you out of everything you own!" Tenran growled.  "There is no witch!"

"HA!  A proper lie!  The greatest feat of all evil is convincing you it does not exist!" 'Darroway' cried.

"Oh, shut up!" Tenran frankly was getting quickly fed up with all the runaround.  "I'm Tenran Cyneran," he said addressing Trillium.  "I'm a bounty hunter.  This is Josef Bonacher!  And he's coming with me!"

Eoin would have none of it and promptly struck Tenran n the groin, hard enough to make him jump and flinch inwardly.  But the blow had been light and Tenran gave the small boy a proper kick to the hind quarters when he grabbed him by the shirt to spin him around.

Glaring back at Trillium, eyes clearly exasperated, he huffed, "Well!?  Will, you let me take him or I do I have to drag him by the beard!?"

If Trillium had been more-or-less indifferent to Tenran, other than what duty obliged, she hardened when he called her 'little girl' and told her to 'put her knife away.' She was a Knight of the White Lily! (Well, in training.) Who was he talk to her like that? Sure, she didn't want to be a Knight, but she was one anyway, and at least that demanded some modicum of respect! She set her jaw, standing straighter and more confident now, her expression harder and more determined.

She listened to his arguments with old 'Mr. Darroway' with narrowed eyes, not entirely sure what to make of it. He was right, of course, there wasn't meant to be an actual witch. Lydia had told her the rumors probably just stemmed for the bad crops the town had been suffering; easier to have a scapegoat. Trillium, frankly, didn't know if the start rumors corresponded to Darroway's arrival in the town. They might, who knew, and more importantly she didn't want this to get out of hand. Trillium didn't want to have to actually do anything.

"If you're who you say you are and not the servant of the witch," she said firmly, "and he," she nodded to the old man, "is who you say he is, a criminal and not an innocent old man as we know him to be, then surely you won't object to my accompanying you to deliver him to the authorities you claim want him. I can't let you drag an old man out of town without any proof that he's a criminal. Not when you  might be taking him to the witch." She kept her sword raised and was still tense, but hoped very much the man would agree to this and everything would calm down. And anyway, she'd get to leave this awful village! "What do you say? If you are lying I, I shall have to kill you, obviously."

Though Trillium hoped the situation was about to wrap up, Eoin's mother wasn't about to stand idly by waiting for this mad man to agree to her terms - especially after the man had kicked her little son! She darted quickly to the small fireplace and, grabbing one of the iron pokers, swung it at Tenran's head.

After Eoin had been kicked, the little boy had yelped and ran back to his mother, shortly before she went in to reach for a hot poker.  If it wasn't for the little boy's cry of "Mama!" Tenran might have been struck by that piece of iron!  Instead he ducked and the metal struck Bonacher in the face.  The force of the blow was enough to break Tenran's grip and knock the old man out with a single blow, collapsing him to the ground.  The woman stood back, stunned, but Tenran shrugged.  "Well, at least he's quiet," he replied with a sigh.

He looked back at Trillium, he gave her a sigh and gestured to the old man. "Fine!  Just don't get in the way!  And tell these people to calm down!  Because if they assault me, I will defend myself!  Yeah!  That means you Lady Firepoker!"

The woman shrieked and tried to hit Tenran again, and he stepped around her, causing her to fall in the mud!  "Don't let him take Mr. Darroway!  He's the only protection we have against the witch!"   Tenran just rolled his eyes grabbed the limp body of Josef Bonacher and dragged him to his limp, unconscious feet. 

Trillium winced as the poker struck Mr. Darroway full in the face. Ouch. She'd honestly never liked Darroway. But, then again, she didn't really like any of the people here. Still, she frowned a sour frown at Tenran's threats.

"Oh yeah, you're a real big tough guy, aren't you?" she asked loudly when he threatened to defend himself against the villagers. "Kicking little kids and then threatening their defenseless," well, sort of defenseless, "mothers and throwing them into the mud. You ought to be really proud of yourself, you know that?" Kind of getting into the flow of her new act, Trillium pointed her sword anew at Tenran and added sternly, "You touch one more person here and I'll slice your arm off, got it?"

Yeah. Maybe she would, too. It'd be so super gross, but it'd serve him right! Coming here and knocking around her villagers and threatening them and kicking little Eoin! Wait, was she starting to think of them as her villagers? Oh boy. She needed to get out of here. The sooner the better. Good thing she'd already demanded that she accompany this 'bounty hunter' out of the village. Lydia couldn't get mad at her for leaving under these circumstances, right? What else was there to do?

"Don't worry, Misses Collins," Trillium said, helping the woman up from the ground and glaring daggers at Tenran. "I'll get to the bottom of this whole business. You here don't need to worry while we're gone and we'll be back before you know it. Hopefully with the witch's head."

She threw that last bit in for the woman's benefit. Trillium Delancy was cutting off no heads!

Then she let go of Misses Collins and dashed in front of Tenran's path, squaring up in front of him. "And just how are you going to carry him, then? I'm not letting you drag him the whole way."

Tenran could tell just by her attitude, this was going to be a LONG journey back to the magistrate's office.  He gave her an audible sigh before altering his grip on Bonacher and setting the man down for a moment.  It was all he needed to bound his arms behind his back as a safety precaution.  One never could be too prepared when it came to slippery sons of bitches like Bonacher.  And the Tenran tossed him over his shoulder.

"I'd drag him in the mud," he said plainly, "but apparently you think he's far too dignified for that!  So for now, over my should he goes.  Now less chattering and more walking.  Come along, 'Knight'"

He walked around her and without waiting for her as the day had already been long and he'd like to get some distance between himself and the villagers before the old codger woke up.  "You coming!?" he called out behind him.  "I don't have all day!"

"I think every person is too dignified to drag in the mud," Trillium shot back at Tenran as she jogged to catch up with him after he'd sidestepped her and gone right on his way. This wasn't entirely true; Trillium typically didn't give much thought to what other people were too dignified her. But it was the sort of thing Lydia would say, she was sure, and she should probably keep up looking like a proper Knight.

When she finally drew up level to him, she suddenly realized she was still holding her sword. Oops. That, she knew, had been a mistake. It was foolish to run with a sword for no reason. But she sheathed it purposefully, as though she'd meant to keep it out until that moment.

To detract attention from this mistake, she glared at him again and said pointedly, "And I don't like that tone. I am a Knight. Or, at least, more than you are." She held the glare for a few moments as if to make a point, then asked, "So what kind of criminal is he meant to be, anyway?" Now that they were past the ears of the two women, her tone didn't sound quite as sympathetic to Old Mr. Darroway.

Tenran would tolerate her as long as she didn't do anything stupid.  Like untie his prisoner or get in the way!  She seemed young and hopefully not as naive as she made herself out to be.  Tenran lugged the heavy form of Bonacher along the trail and peered at the small girl in her leather armor with a raised brow. 

"I told you the truth, Knight of the Lily.  Bonacher is a special kind of criminal, he's too smart for his own good, using his  old age and wit to his advantage.  Most people aren't too unkind as to refuse an old man.  So he takes whatever he can get.  Money, free housing and food.  Free women if he can.  But his conning days are over.  And what is it to you?  Are you even really a knight?  What are you ten?  Twelve?"

Trillium pulled a disgusted face at Tenran's comment about the old man taking 'free women, if he can.' Gross. Implying that anyone that old would still... could still!... gross. Clearly this 'bounty hunter' was some sort of pervert to even think something like that. Some sort of 'thinking about old people' pervert. Darroway was ancient!

"Are you really even a bounty-hunter?" Trillium countered with a meaningful, sidelong look at his limp and the odd brace on his leg. "What are you, sixty? Sixty-five?" She huffed and held her chin up in the air as if this whole thing were just completely beneath her. And what an insult, to be called twelve! "I'm sixteen, thank-you-very-much," she said with the sort of haughty indignation that was the trademark to teenage girls (and which held in it the obvious assumption that sixteen was unimaginably older than twleve!). "And I am a Knight of the White Lily. At least, I'm in training. I'm pretty sure my sadistic mentor sent me here as punishment."

Tenran have her a glare at her huff, which she seemed to be so conveniently in abundance of.  He looked her over once more, at her delicate boiled leather armor, and the sword she had hesitantly held, and the look of suspended intelligence and dutiful entitlement.  Her question annoyed him and she was lucky he didn't stop and make her lug around the smelly body of Josef Bonacher.

"Yes! I am a bounty hunter!  And I'm not sixty-five!"  He growled a little as he readjusted the weight of the old man and trudged on a little faster.  "I'm thirty-six, if you must know.  Are all Knights like you?  Or are you some kind of one of a kind?"  He rolled his eyes and gave a sigh.  At the mention of her mentor sending her to this hell hole of a village, he actually laughed.

"Can you really blame her?  I mean, a little good old fashion labor would do you some good.  Put some hair on your chest."

"I know you aren't sixty-five, just like I know you know that I'm not twelve!" Despite her words, her voice had lost just a little bit of its acidity and she even grinned a little when she asked, "A bit sensitive about your age, though?"

"And yes, I am one of a kind," she answered loftily, without any hint of the remark being even remotely tongue-in-cheek. "I certainly wasn't born to trudge around in the mud with armor and sword with some smelly old bounty hunter. Which doesn't mean I won't still hack you into pieces if you step out of line," she added hastily to remind him who was 'in charge' in this situation. "But you're lucky you found me instead of one of the fully-trained Adhara. They're much, much worse. I think it's the chastity business," she pulled a face, "it's just unnatural!" Probably Trillium should stick to the script a bit better, but she never could pass up an opportunity to complain about her unfortunate lot being thrown in with the Adhara!

"Well, all knights are stuffy and self-righteous.  Are you really sure that's a path you want to head down?  My advice is get out now while you're young.  Go lose your virginity while you still have the chance.  Don't wanna be old and saggy.  It's a lot harder to find someone willing to cut off your maidenhead that way.  I mean...unless you just happen to have the luck to have an old soldier fall into your lap, not having had a woman in years and he'll take the first fish he can get!"

Tenran laughed at his crude dialogue and gave a passing glance to the tiny girl that had the gumption to make herself out to be the leader of this expedition.  "Besides!  What makes you think  you can cut me to pieces anyway?  I'm sure if someone didn't tell you, you'd hold that sword of yours the wrong way.  Or trip and gut yourself on it!"

At first, Trillium looked revolted and overly offended at Tenran's comments. He really was a pervert, after all! And she'd thought it was bad talking about old Mr. Darroway 'taking women.' Of course, what had offended her most of all was the suggestion that she wouldn't always be beautiful or desirable. Of course... Trillium had somehow never quite thought of it this way. She'd been forced to train to be a Knight, and she knew being a Knight meant being chaste. She'd spent countless hours lamenting the life she'd have to lead, or tirading against how love and romance had been ripped away from her. Because she had to be a Knight, and Knights had to be chaste. Somehow Trillium had never stopped to think about whether not being chaste would have to mean one wasn't a Knight. What a fool she'd been! Suddenly, she looked at Tenran anew. Hmm.

"Oh, was I?" she asked after he told her she'd been holding the sword wrong, her tone perhaps too demure for comfort, and she began to finger her thick braid of black-hair distractedly, only throwing Tenran a quick, furtive glance. She was sure this was how it was done. "I'm afraid I'm a bit inexperienced when it comes to swords. But I bet a mature, experienced man like could teach me how to handle one properly."

Tenran peered at her from the corner of his eye. "I don't think I'd have the patience for teaching  anybody.  I'm sure your While Lily mentors are more than qualified for teaching you the finer points of swordplay and being a Knight," he replied.  "So tell me, er, whatever your name is, what were you really doing in that stinkhole village?  You don't really be believe there's a witch do you?  That would be quite amusing.  The Adhara, cunning and deadly, pulled into the scheme of an old man and his words of dispelling a witch's curse."

Trillium glared at Tenran's unceremonious dismissal of her clumsy attempts at seduction. And here she was, young and beautiful and in her prime! And he was just a stupid old cripple. Hmph. Well, Trillium wouldn't be put off if she decided not to be and she wasn't going to give up on possible avenues to Not Be a Knight, but she 'decided' to put it on the backburner for now.

"Whatever-my-name-is is Lady Trillium Delancy," she answered haughtily. "And I told you, I was sent here as punishment. And no, we didn't think there was a witch there. But my mentor said that 'it would be good to give the people peace of mind in these troubled times.' But I'm sure she really just wanted to humiliate me."

She didn't comment on whether or not she'd suspected any wrong-doing on Bonacher's part. The truth was she hadn't, but also that she just had not been paying any attention to it. Trillium had spent the better part of her time in the village sulking, and only marching about on patrols - simply trying to look impressive - as little as possible to keep up her 'presence' in the village.

At this moment a moan issued from Josef Bonacher, who was gradually waking up. Trillium just looked curiously at Tenran as if to ask 'what are you going to do now?' Then, remembering that it might be in her benefit to be at least a little in Tenran's favor, asked, "Do you want me to knock him across the head again?" This was, of course, a horrible offer to come from someone who wasn't yet convinced of the old man's guilt, but thinking of other people wasn't Trillium's strong point.

He didn't know how much longer he could take this.  Not that she was necessarily doing him anything more than passing the time, but he just wasn't used to having another person suddenly decide they wanted to tag along!  Especially some young twit that had gumption but little no brains to properly utilize it.  Though, he couldn't say he was any smarter than she was at her age.  He had signed up for the army then, and thought his future locked and promised.

Little did he know how much fate had in store for him.  That, however, was another thought for another time, and Tenran gave a grumpy scowl at the road up ahead.  He found it hard to believe that everything really was set against this girl.  Then again she was twe - no, sixteen.  She hadn't had time to develop common sense yet.

When Josef groaned, Tenran dropped the old man and let him land hard on the ground, knocking him awake from the pain that surged through the back of his skull.  "No, I don't think that will be necessary.  In fact, I think it might be better to have my smelly guest walk for a change.  He's a lot heavier than he looks," Tenran replied and watched as the old man moaned and groaned about on the ground.

"How you feeling, Mr. Bonacher?  Feeling well enough to walk?  You feel great, you say!?  Well, that's wonderful!"  Tenran snatched him up by the shoulder and shoved him along the road.  "Get stepping, or I'll shoot a bolt in your ass.  And you won't be faking that pain."

"You...you monster!" Bonacher howled and peered from the side to see Trillium following them.  "You, Adhara!  Please!  Save me from this horrible man!  He'll kill me surely!"

"Quiet!"

"You!  You foolish girl!  Don't fall for his tricks!  You're supposed to protect me!  What will the people think of you!?  The villagers!  Your mentors!"  Bonacher turned to Trillium and set his bound hands on her shoulder, trying to plead with her.

It was true. Trillium was supposed to be protecting this old man. But now he was old and pathetic-looking and smelly. Tenran was... well, still old, but at least tolerable. Her loyalties were perhaps not the firmest. If she put more thought into it, she could have excused her current role in the man's predicament by insisting that she was actually meant to protect the town and that it was her responsibility to determine whether or not he was a threat to them.

Instead, when he touched her with his bound hands, she just recoiled, giving him the sort of look of disgust that only the very young can give the very old.

"You just keep calling me a 'foolish girl' and see how much it makes me want to protect you," she sneered at him. "I'm here to find out if he has tricks," she gestured with her head to Tenran, "or if you have. And I'm pretty sure that's what my mentor would want me to do, so you be quiet before I knock you back out with the but of my sword."

"Why... you...!" Bonacher seethed at her and, sensing that he wasn't going to win her back to his side - he hadn't liked her anyway, the sulky, selfish creature! - raised his bound hands to strike her in his frustration.

But while Trillium insisted that she hated fighting and swordplay and battle, she proved surprisingly ready to strike once the man made a move at her. Moving swiftly to the side, she caused Bonacher to lose his balance and, while he stumbled, she kicked him sharply in the groin. Then she snorted, like a stag that had just won a duel, as she glared hard down at the old man. Perhaps she wasn't quite the pretty girly girl she thought herself to be.

A moment later, she looked a bit sheepishly at Tenran. "Sorry, I suppose that won't make him much quicker on his feet," she said as the man cursed and groaned on the ground. Now that her disdain was focused on Bonacher, it seemed to pass over Tenran for the moment.

Tenran stepped back and gave Trillium and astonished expression, stepping back and even offering a chuckle at manner which Bonacher tried to exact retaliation and failed.  "No, no, a good kick to the groin is just what he needed.  And he'll walk just as fast as we need him too, or he'll get a bolt right in the ass," he laughed and gave Trillium a genuine smile.  Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.  Well, Tenran wasn't about to jump to any conclusions right off the bat, especially since it was just one instance of Bonacher getting what was coming to him.

He helped the old man to his feet and held him along, though he still whimpered from the pain.  "I'll try to be more careful about what I say around you then, Delancy," Tenran addressed casually.  "Don't need a kick to the family jewels with boots like those.  Seems you've got a good leg on you.  If you're going to tag along, then you might as well help out.  Who knows...if you make yourself worthwhile, I might even consider splitting the bounty with you as well."

He gave a mocking laugh, as if that would only happen when hell froze over, but he suppose it didn't hurt to dangle some cheese in front of the little mouse and see how fast she would run to catch it anyway. 

"You ever done bounty hunting before?"

"I certainly have not!" Trillium answered haughtily. Or, at any rate, with affected haughtiness. For even while she turned her nose up to signify that the whole business of bounty hunting and groin-kicking was far beneath her, she couldn't suppress a faint smile from her face. The Knight-to-be was certainly not immune to praise, even in the teasing form it took on Tenran's lips. "And it's Lady Delancy."

"You just wait," Bonacher threatened darkly while he was prodded on, "you just wait, girl, until I tell the Order how you're conspiring with this filthy witch's servant. They'll hang you for treason! But I won't tell them if you..."

"Oh, put a sock in it," Trillium interrupted loudly, giving a great roll of her eyes. "I'll get commending for seeing through your scam if he's right. And if he's wrong," she gave a shrug, "I guess I'll just have to kill you to keep you quiet."

Bonacher returned to mutteringly darkly to himself; not wanting another kick. The interruption over, Trillium looked up at Tenran with an open smile now, casually brushing aside a piece of dark hair that'd come loose in a very girlish gesture. "But it'd be lucky for you if I did!" she said brightly, and a bit smugly. "Think of how valuable an Adhara would be to you. What with bigger and bigger bounties on more and more renegade mages. There will only be more as the war goes on." She said this with a disregard that betrayed how far away her youthful life was from the reality of war.

Tenran clearly ignored Bonacher's protests and exclamations.  He was glad to see as well that Trillium was no longer willing to listen to the bullshit that spewed out of his mouth.  The old man was a spry and sly little turd, but even the grizzled bounty hunter had to respect his persistence at trying to maintain his ruse.  it was just a shame that nobody was buying into it anymore.

"All right then, Lady Delancy," Tenran replied mockingly.  He rolled his eyes at her and gave her a speculative glare at her pompous pride.  "You do make an interesting point.  But I don't just take any ol' kid from some mud hutt and ask them to tag along.  You say you're an Adhara, and you're quite fond of yourself.  So why don't you just go back to your mentor and tell her that your mission was a smashing success, and you protected the village with flying colors.  And the old man had an unfortunate accident in a ditch somewhere.  And then she can move you onto another punishment I'm sure you'll abhor."

He laughed at her.  "Besides, life on the road isn't easy, darling.  And it's even less glamorous than that mud village you were in, or you're training, I'm sure.  You ought to go back while there's still less space between you and civilization."

"Who said I was offering to help you?" Trillium asked loftily. But the sidelong look she cast up at him betrayed, if he was paying attention, that she might not be as wholly indifferent as she let on. "I only said that it would be useful for a bounty-hunter, having an Adhara on hand to aid them. I never actually said that I wanted to tag along after you on the road or anything as vulgar as that."

At the thought of skipping back to the citadel in Reajh to report to Lydia on her task thus far - she wasn't looking forward to what her mentor would think about her letting a bounty hunter take one of the villagers, and leaving the village without so much as a few parting words to just two women! - Trillium puffed her cheeks in exhale, her eyes big at the thought. "I think you underestimate how unpleasant the mentors of the Knights can be. I'm pretty sure they vet them for sadism," she said. The loft pretenses were gone from her voice now, and she sounded much more like a girl speaking in earnest than a Knight or lofty noble. "To make sure they have it in abundance, I mean! I don't want to be a Knight, anyway, not that anyone cares. 'It's so rare a gift'; 'I should be so honored'; 'Think of the prestige it will bring to our family,'" she rattled off the list of reasons told to her, in an imitated voice that was likely her mother.

But Trillium hadn't entirely given up on her thought from earlier, and she was perhaps walking closer now to Tenran than she had been before her answer.

Tenran wasn't ignorant of the sarcastic, high-n-mighty tone she offered him by way of response.  He had to hold back a laugh, not only at her choice of words, but that he might actually consider them on part of the look she offered as well.  An Adhara to aid him?  In all the years he had been working as a bounty hunter, he'd never needed help from an Adhara or a Mordecai.

"I'm sure any Adhara, would have better things to do than go bounty hunting,"  He gave her a speculative glare and walked a little faster and a little more away from her when she came closer to him.  It was a poor attempt to invade his personal space bubble.  Her tone betrayed enough, and he wasn't immune to it for it was a stark change from how she spoke only moments before.

"Welcome to the club," Tenran grumbled, shrugging it off.  Of course he'd already been there and done that, doing what was best for the family, than what you wanted to do.  His father wanted him to be as great a general as all the others in his family, to carry the name into the annals of history.  But what for...death and glory?  Those years seemed so far behind him.

"How many young boys do you think want to spend years trudging through mud and fire and blood on the battle field?  You're not the only one who isn't doing what they want to do.  Some have more choice in it than others.  Boys watching their friends blown to bits, burn to ash, screaming for their mothers, trying to put their guts back in their bellies..."  He sighed and looked at her with mild exhaustion.  Of course she didn't want to be a knight.  She didn't even look like one.  "Best to just run away while you can.  Before your years run away from you."

Trillium stopped in her tracks at Tenran's words, looking at him open-mouthed. She stared at him with a mix of indignation and anger. "Yes, I know, and don't look at me like I'm the one who sends them there!" she countered. "All the boys I know have been sent to war. Every one of them over fifteen. And who knows which ones will come back! You think I don't know that? And it's not like it probably was whenever you were young, old man," she continued hotly, "when there was mostly peace and the army was a way to go off for a few years and get bathed in glory and manly.... whatever! There's a war now! A real one! Even my brother, who I love more than anyone, and don't look at me like there's anything I can do. Women aren't the ones sending all their boys away to the army!"

Trillium was vaguely conscious of the fact that her tirade was wobbling a bit and she shut her jaw in an angry clench. In fact, she was a little embarrassed by her response. She'd never really thought about it much before, but she knew she was supposed to think that every man - unlike her father - should join the army and take great pride in it. So she found herself frustrated, and a little confused, and then she realized that Tenran and the old fart were several meters ahead of her now. Giving a huff, she sprinted to keep up with them, looking surly up at Tenran once she'd caught up to him.

"And I suppose you know all about running away, bounty hunter."

Her tirade splashed on him like water on glass and leaving nothing more than little more than water beads.  He would have scowled if she wasn't just a kid really.  She was sixteen!  What did she know?  Oh, that's right, that's what she was busy telling him.  Everything she knew, but it was very different from what you knew versus what you had seen, what you heard, what you felt in your own experiences. 

But the look hadn't meant to cloak her in a cloth of guilt or contempt as if she would never understand.  Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn't.  That wasn't for him to say.  He just couldn't help it from the way his own service had ended up.  Besides, Tenran liked to think he was above arguing with a twelve year old - whoops, sixteen year old.

"That depends on who you ask," he said, forcing a laugh.  "My commanding officer said I was disgraced enough that I may have been better off if I'd run away, go AWOL.  Now that I think about it, maybe I should have.  It would have saved me a lot of trouble in the long run.  No...apparently I was insubordinate, let my men die, and was dishonorably discharged from the army of our great and glorious nation.  But Ansgar be damned, I'm damned happy I'm through with all that mess.  I prefer hunting scumbags like this right here, than taking orders from some horse's ass.  But I guess you get those no matter wherever you go!"

[goddammit Klemens!]

Keeping pace alongside Tenran now, Trillium looked sidelong up at him after his surprisingly candid description of his own service. The girl was curious; it seemed as though Tenran might be more than just a grumpy old bounty hunter after all. But Trillium was gradually deciding that she liked him - despite, or perhaps because of, his dismissive gruffness - and she decided not to press the issue. Instead she carried on next to Tenran in silence, mostly looking at the ground and thinking her own thoughts..And those thoughts, at the moment, were mostly concerned with what a sad old man Tenran was, and how good it would be of her to stick around and help him out and make him a bit less pathetic. After all, the more she thought about it, the more romantic the idea of being a bounty hunter became. (This was greatly aided by her general ignorance of the reality of life on the road, or general combat, etc.) Knights had to follow rules, rules, rules. Rules about honor, rules about behavior, rules of combat, rules about sex. But a bounty hunter surely made their own rules! Lived dangerously! (Living dangerously, in her young mind, was of course immediately equated with ‘sexy.’) It wasn’t what she’d dreamed of, obviously: being swept away by a knight or an earl or a duke. But all things considered, surely it would be better than life as a Knight.

She kicked a stone that jumped up off the ground and hit Bonacher squarely in the buttocks.

“Watch it, girl!” the old man growled, looking back and baring his teeth at Trillium. “Don’t make me hurt you!”

Trillium shook her head, then said to Tenran, “He really is a scumbag, isn’t he?” In response, she gave Bonacher another sharp kick, this time mercifully just his ankle, not his groin. “And I hope that comment about ‘horses asses’ wasn’t directed at me!” The way she said this was so devoid of her prior sassy pride that it would be hard for Tenran not to think that the girl was, perhaps, taking a bit of pity on him. Trying to manufacture harmless banter to ‘lighten the mood.’ “Obviously I’d have to slice your head off with my Very Dangerous and Impressive swordsmanship skills for the insult if it were!”

If Tenran could read minds - particularly Trillium's in all her considerations - at this particular moment, he would have knocked her sideways and frontways and any other -ways to knock some sense into her.  Of course she probably wasn't as feather brained or lightheaded as he assumed she was, but Tenran was never one to take much for granted.  And he didn't need a kid hanging around to make his job all the more difficult.

Though, he had to admit.  She was proving to be welcome company for now.  It was either her or talk to Bonacher and the bounty hunter wasn't about to give that old man any opportunity to try and talk his way out of this.  He was afraid if he did, Tenran would throttle him and bring him in more worse for wear.  He wasn't one to rough up his bounties like a lot of the other hunters and mercenaries that could care less.  It made for a bad reputation, no matter how reliable you were, especially if the old criminal was wanted alive and not dead.  Dead was always the easy part.

When she kicked Bonacher however, Tenran threw a glare her way and her smart comment.  But an amused grin danced on his lips and he scoffed at her, meanwhile the old man limped and danced on the road from her kick.  "So what if I did?  I doubt your skills could prove to be anymore dangerous than -"

But Bonacher had seized his momentary opportunity in Tenran's distraction to swing his own leg up as hard and as viciously as he could.  Tenran's expression suddenly blanched and a wheezing squeal escaped his mouth after the old man kicked him in the groin and began running like a wild chicken down toward the side of the road.  Tenran held his groin and feel to his knees, then glared up at the girl.  "Well!?  CATCH HIM!" he howled, and shoved her after the runaway with his free hand.

Trillium was off before Tenran had even finished 'well.' After all, this was an opportune time to prove her usefulness! And, plus, she didn't like Bonacher. He was old, ugly, smelly, and bossy. Bossy to her nonetheless. Really. The nerve. Didn't he know about the natural order between ugly-and-old-and-common and young-and-beautiful-and-rich?

Despite his headstart, Bonacher was an old man and Trillium was young and, despite her whining, fairly athletic and it didn't take her too long to catch up with the old man. But once she decided to actually do something, Trillium wasn't one to temper her actions. Coming up to Bonacher, she caught him in a full-on tackle, sending both of them tumbling off the slightly-elevated road and into the woodland below. A short scuffle ensued, ending with Trillium sitting 'triumphantly' on Bonacher's chest, pinning him to the leaf-littered forest floor.

"Who's a horse's ass now?" she called happily up to Tenran, beaming. After all, she was the one who caught the runaway! He was just the one who'd squealed. Really, what were men thinking, having such sensitive bits? "See you, need a - OW!" she suddenly yelped. "He bit me! Can I slice his head off for that?"

After a full minute of recovery, Tenran was able enough to climb to his feet whilst Trillium was happily yapping on the other side of the brush.  He couldn't exactly see them between the trees, but from the sound of her triumph he made the effort to hurry toward the scene.  Limping after them, he watched Bonacher struggle beneath her weight and cursing foul obscenities that would make even him blush.

"No!  You can't chop off his head.  He'll be worth half his bounty.  But he tries that again, I'll let you castrate him if you want," Tenran growled.  At that Bonacher shot him an 'are you serious?' look and ceased his struggles.  Nudging Trillium to get off him, he grabbed the old man up by the collar and did the only thing that seemed to bring any real results and struck him with the back of his hand.

The blow was enough to make Bonacher spin on his heel and drop to the ground, unconscious.  Tenran put a hand on his hip and gave Trillium a speculative glare, especially that goofy expression on her face.  "So what?  You caught one crook, you must think you're some sort of hot shot now right?  Well, I'm not one to pass up the opportunity to tell you off but...  You did pretty good.  You never let the bounty get away.  First rule of bounty hunting.  And what the hell are you smiling about!?"

"Gross! No thank you!" Trillium pulled a disgusted face at Tenran's suggestion that she could, if she wanted to, castrate Bonacher if he stepped out of line again. For her part, Trillium wanted nothing to do with that whole... region... of the old man! Even if it was to give him his comeuppance. She leapt nimbly up off the old man at Tenran's nudge and the disgusted look disintegrated from her features. In fact, despite her reaction to that suggestion, the girl still looked quite pleased with herself. Especially when Tenran himself said she'd done 'pretty good.' She, of course, already knew that, but now he'd said it! And his glare only made her grin brighter.

She peered down at the limp form of Bonacher, trying to hide her obvious pleasure and look serious. "Here," she said, and began undoing her braided hair. The purpose of this might not have been obvious at first, but when her long, dark hair tumbled down around her, she produced a long leather cord that had been holding it all together. Eager to show her usefulness, she hopped down to Bonacher and bound his hands together behind his back. She even used a proper knot. It seemed that, perhaps, she hadn't dismissed all of her training.

"Oh no," she answered earnestly while she finished the binding knot, "I certainly don't! I'm just starting off, after all. I suppose I won't become a very good bounty hunter unless someone with more skill and experience takes me on as his - or her! - apprentice. Maybe someone who could use some extra help, anyway, in things like running after escaping criminals." She didn't quite have the cheek to meet his eye as she said this, but she did give a meaningful look at the odd contraption around his lame leg. Then she undid the leather belt of her armor, looping it around Bonacher's binding to make something of a leash. She got back to her feet and, with her hair unbound and down around her, she looked more like a girl and less like a knight than ever. But nonetheless, she looked proudly at Tenran, explaining the obvious, "For when he wakes up again."

[I could have sworn Bonacher's hands were already tied up.  Maybe he undid them somehow?]

Tenran was giving Trillium the glare of glares.  If he had any magic in him surely it was a glare that could melt her skin off and make it dance around her like a separate person.  But even he wasn't that morbid.  He knew her game, he knew what she was getting at and he knew one thing was for sure -

"It's not gonna happen.  Not in a million years!  And certainly not just because you tackled one old man to the ground.  You'd get killed and the last thing I need is to be responsible for some...kid knight and her trusty sword, Rusty - or whatever you call that thing!  No thanks!  It's a lot tougher than this, trust me.  Not something you should get involved in," he said, brushing her off.  "Way too dangerous."