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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4645140" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 74She knew as soon as she heard the sounds of the wagon axle, protesting against a path never designed to accommodate wheeled vehicles.  Mara had been chopping wood.  She reached back and grabbed the hilt of the sword that was never far from her reach, now.  She kept the axe in her other hand, and walked over to the spot facing the path.  It was almost the exact same spot where Torvan had stood to face the four riders, six months before. But there were no riders this time.  Only a narrow-beam cart, pulled by a big draft horse.  The riding board of the cart was barely big enough to accommodate the single man who handled the animal’s reins.  The look on his face turned sympathetic as he spotted Mara, but she didn’t have to look in the back of the cart, or see the long wooden box there, to know why he was here. “How did he die?” she asked him.  “In battle,” the man said.  He did not have the look of a warrior, himself, but his bright eyes sparkled with intelligence.  “Protecting others from harm.  He was a good man.”Mara nodded, as if that response were a given.  “There’s tea and food in the cabin,” she said. The stranger nodded gratefully.  “Let me just tend to my horse, first; he had a hard time getting up here.”Mara nodded again, watching him.  She made no move to help, but she did put the axe away, wiping the blade free of wood sap before wrapping it in its leather sheath.  She kept the sword, hooking the scabbard onto her belt.  The stranger, looking up as he filled a feedbag full of oats from a sack in the cart, saw her but said nothing.  After a few minutes, Mara brought out her bucket, full of water, and offered it to him; he accepted it gratefully and watered the horse. “It’s quiet up here,” he finally said. “Not always,” she replied. “I’m sorry, my name is Douven Staul.”“Mara.  Mara Lendoran.”“Have you thought about what you’re going to do now, Mara?  I mean, this house is yours now, I suppose, but it’s very isolated up here.” “I hadn’t thought much about it.”“Well.  I was a friend to your uncle, and I’d like to be the same to you.  Perhaps we can talk.”Mara felt the memories wash over her and let them go as she returned to the present.  She turned to look at the walls of Winterhaven, a dark line on the horizon behind her.  To the east lay another long road, to… where?  She knew the names of the towns, the rivers, the mountain ranges.  The halflings had invited her to come with them to whatever flyspeck village had spawned them, but an urgency had tugged at her, and she had politely refused.  That pull had gotten stronger the closer they’d gotten to Winterhaven, and she’d spent barely a day in the town, and had avoided the local notable—she’d forgotten his name.  Elevaren would have remembered…  Most of the locals had no idea what had transpired under that ruined keep, and the halflings had shared her desire to avoid talking about it.  She shifted, adjusting the straps of her backpack.  It was heavy; Beetle had found a cache of gold in the deep chamber of the portal, and her share left her with a good deal of wealth, more hard currency than she’d ever had in her hands before.  The road ahead of her was full of options.  Yet somehow, she felt as though none of it mattered. She glanced back once more.  Her gaze shifted to the south road, where she almost imagined that she could see the halflings, walking home.  That was unlikely, of course; they’d left almost an hour before her, and were likely miles away by now.  Then she turned back to the road ahead, and started walking.</blockquote>

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