“You have been awfully inaccurate of late.” Faladel says, drinking some of our precious chamomile tea supply as he leans against one of the trees at our evening campsite. The stress on the word inaccurate immediately alerts me to his actual meaning. Being on the road for a few weeks together has really clued me in to some of his doublespeak.
“Oh, you don’t really mean that.” I say waving my hand dismissively. The fire is beginning to die down, and it’s nearly time for bed. I know I’m more than ready for it. We traveled pretty far today, Faladel had seemed to want to get as far away from the last town as possible. Was he trying to outpace the orbs? Clearly, he’s not sure if it worked or not. “You can talk normally.” I say, making a snap decision to clue him in. It’s been a few weeks. The game was getting boring anyway. “I got rid of all those annoying orb things earlier.”
“What?!” Faladel exclaims, instantly sitting upright. “Wait, when?” His brow is furrowed. “You did it while scouting?” He guesses, but it sounds more like an accusation. I shrug at him.
“There were only a few left, not many people rich enough in these parts to own one. It was easy.” I neither confirm or deny his suspicions, but that doesn’t really matter at this point.
“You can’t just destroy the watchers Briareth, they’re expensive pieces of equipment! They belong to someone! That’s vandalism!”
I shrug, and start setting up my pallet for bed. “If they didn’t send them to spy on us, I would totally agree with you Faladel. But…” I shoot him a grin “as any good intelligencer knows, spying missions can be dangerous. Any sort of accident could happen to them. Them all getting shot in the lens by arrows shouldn’t be too unexpected. And between you and me, I think my shots are actually getting better! Practice makes perfect after all!” I shoot him a cheeky wink, before laying down.
Faladel only sighs, but I can hear his smile in the sigh, and he puts out the fire.
After our next town visit, and my subsequent scouting operation, Faladel brings up the topic again. We’re sitting around another evening’s fire. This time, I’ve got the chamomile tea, but I’m nearly finished with it. He’s sharpening his sword, not like he’s had anything to use it on, but I suppose it’s always better to be prepared in Faladel’s book. When he opens his mouth to start, I’m expecting the protests this time, and I have my replies ready.
“It really isn’t right Briareth.” He says, running his whetstone over the blade in a smooth, practiced motion. “They have full legality to follow me around and record what I’m doing.”
“Yeah. I never granted them that right though.” I say, taking one last gulp of my tea. “And by following you around, they’re also following me around. Besides, the accident excuse is foolproof!”
“How many have you destroyed now?” Faladel asks, raising an eyebrow
“Twenty-four” I reply promptly. I definitely have been counting. “And not one got away! It’s honestly surprising that there were that many in the six towns we’ve been to. There have been less in the last two, but I suppose that’s only to be expected for more rural towns. Not a lot happens here to be documented.”
“Or, they are just getting better at hiding.” Faladel says, sheathing his sword. “And what happens to your ‘accident’ logic when you miss a few on your scouting trips and they record you saying things like that? There goes your alibi!” He throws his hands in the air in exasperation, and I watch in barely concealed delight. This is the Faladel I know and can get riled up so easily. He’s letting his guard down again, becoming normal Faladel.
“Actually.” I say, pleased to prove him wrong. “They are getting worse at hiding. I bet there handlers have never had to do true stealth missions before. Again, not much need to here I suppose.”
“Exactly.” Faladel snaps his fingers at me as if he’s won a point. “The people who own these watchers aren’t even the reporters really, just private citizens who are curious about my life. You’re destroying something they possibly spent months of savings on to procure.”
I snort at this logic. “And trained themselves how to use? Not likely.”
“Well, it would explain the drop in proficiency perfectly.” Faladel says, which is a surprisingly good point. “And,” He continues, as we both start setting up our pallets. “I’d assume they come with user manuals. The Erhorns are usually good about that sort of public communication. Or perhaps, some people are more talented with it, like how Adamar could use that little device of his to spy on people. In fact, I wonder if that technology was the prototype for the watchers.” He stops, staring off into the endless trees that surround us, but then dismisses whatever he thought he saw.
I think the idea that soon everyone will be able to do what Adamar does is a very disturbing thought, but as soon as I open my mouth to question him further on that topic, he moves on. “Anyways, my point still stands. You can’t keep destroying these willy-nilly Briareth, these are now months worth of savings that you waste with every arrow.” He stretches out into his now familiar watch position. We’re getting closer to the place where we were attacked by bandits last time, and we certainly aren’t keen to repeat the experience. So he takes the first watch, and I’ll take the second.
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“Oh, I think I can.” I reply without hesitation “ And I will, Faladel. It’s not like the King can’t afford to replace them. He’s done it before without hesitation.” I shrug, remembering an incident that happened a few days after my secret meeting with their Majesties. The former owner of some of the orbs had been ready to pick a fight and had come with all the paperwork in hand. The King had just handed him the money and shooed him away without even looking at anything besides his reporter's license. The memory of the befuddled look on the guy's face still brings a smile to mine. Faladel’s shocked look only broadens it.
I put the final nail in my argument with my next words as I climb into my pallet.
“Besides Faladel. Your parents and I said we’d send you on vacation from Prince-ing. It’d wouldn’t really count as a vacation if you’re being watched constantly, now would it?”
Faladel doesn’t respond for a second. I grin and close my eyes, knowing somewhere inside he agrees with me. Shooting them down might not be completely in the right, but it’s the best defense we have against the– watchers was his name for them I think.
It’s a fitting name.
“If you’re not here to watch me constantly, then what are you here for?” Faladel asks suddenly, breaking into the near silence of the chirping crickets.
I groan and turn over. I can’t ever have the last word with him can I?
The next town we visit is one of the towns I was having trouble with in my letters. It is the last of the towns on our path, and really, more a group of houses in an empty glade in the forest than a real town. They only have one street, one tavern, and one general store.
Although strangers riding in should surely ring peoples mental alarms, nobody comes out to greet us. I’m sure it’s not because we look too frightening. We’re just two people! I’m nearly out of arrows and Faladel is skinny as a twig. Other options slowly occur to me. Something caused them to flee? But there’s no way these rural people would just give up and leave town without at least damaging some of their houses in a fight. Perhaps, if they were one of the ones with agreements with the bandits, someone broke the treaty? Still, there should be signs of a fight. At least one broken window or an arrow stuck in a door. Faladel slows his horse down, a mare named Ethiel, and Myrddin follows suit, sniffing at the air cautiously.
“An illusion town?” he asks.
I snort softly, crushing my own sense of foreboding. “Illusion towns are bedtime stories. Nobody’s skilled enough to make a whole illusion of a town anymore. And besides, this isn’t nearly big enough to get lost in for eternity. Here, I’ll go knock on a door to prove it’s real if you want.”
Faladel seems content to leave it at that. But Myrddin won’t leave well enough alone. He tilts his head back at me, meeting me eye to eye, and there is a challenge in his brown ones. “What?” I ask him. “Don’t think I’d do it?” Myrddin doesn’t say anything, but I can read him well enough.
“I accept your challenge!” I tell him, and hop off, heading towards the tavern that we’d been planning on spending the night at.
“Briareth?” Faladel calls after me in confusion. “What are you doing?!”
In between small cracks in the boarded up windows, I see something I hadn’t been able to from horseback. Light. Muffled voices drift out to me. There are people here, they’ve just been ignoring us. But why?
I rap soundly on the door, miffed that even for a second they had made Faladel and I wonder if this was an illusionary town. Nobody comes to the door, but I notice a sudden silence from inside the building. Waiting a few more seconds, I rap on the door again, conscious that both Faladel and Myrddin have halted and are watching me.
Slowly, the door creaks open, and a weathered, dirty looking Elf peers out at us. He surveys Faladel and I, practically glaring. “No rooms.” he spits, and makes to shut the door. I jam my boot in the gap, wincing slightly as the heavy oak collides with my foot. That will definitely bruise.
“You don’t look that busy to me.” I say peering around him and inside at the mostly drunken crowd that stares back. “No travelers at any rate, and surely none of the locals need rooms for the night.”
“No rooms.” The man only repeats.
I sigh. “Look, if it’s a matter of money–” I begin, ready to defend my reluctance to send coin ahead of us.
“Yer coin’s no good here.” The man shakes his head. “There’s just no rooms to be had.” I stare at him, more ready and willing to debate this as long as I need to. He’s obviously lying, which pisses me off, and he’s not even trying to make it a good lie, which is even more annoying, but what really infuriates me ist that I don’t know why!
Instead of meeting my gaze though, the man is staring past me, back towards the horses. Back towards Faladel. I feel my brows slant downwards, and my gaze turn to a glare.
“So you’re saying that even if I pay double for a single night, there’s not a room to be spared?” I ask, hefting my money bag. “Ahh well, I guess I’ll have to ask the other townsfolk if they have any spare beds.”
The dirty man’s eyes flick back to me immediately at the jingle of coins from the bag, and he shifts his feet, opening the door slightly wider. Faladel, finally seeing him, dismounts and comes over as I continue, “However, I am loath to sleep in a bed I don’t trust to be cleaned properly by a real establishment. Perhaps, would triple do?” I look at him, the greed is now clearly visible in his eyes, but I feign not to see it and sigh helplessly. “But I suppose, if there’s truly no beds to be had here…” I trail off invitingly, and the man doesn’t disappoint. “We might be able to fit yeh in here, but not your friend. His type ain’t welcome.”
Only now does it hit me, and my eyes narrow. This is a political statement. I glance over at Faladel, trying to gauge his reaction. A little ‘o’ of surprise rings his mouth. He clearly wasn’t expecting the man to be so blunt.
“We kinda come as a pair.” I retort, trying to stare the man down, but he stares back, unwavering. His desire for money can only be tempted so much. I curse all the eyes in the tavern that are watching us. Without them, I’m sure he would give in to his greed. But for now, we are at a standstill.