Gods, I swear the waiting has gotten the best of me. I still see the sense behind Kesla's choice to delay setting off until two mornings after our initial meeting with Arrhetel because, as they both reasoned, we still had business to take care of if we were going to be jumping right back in without any real rest. We'd been on the road for a long time and we were worn, and I'll admit that two nights in a real, soft, warm bed has done wonders for me, especially with the company, even if Tulen did keep me up half that first night just talking. Not that I minded, it was just like being back in the dorms. And it certainly helped keep my mind off it. And she let me sleep in yesterday, it was early afternoon before I woke up again. I really needed that.
The afternoon was spent shopping for the various wares and supplies we needed to replenish and acquire for our new job, and despite the worrying reason for it all I'll admit I enjoyed myself. There was definite charm in returning to places I once frequented as a student and seeing familiar faces again, most of whom recognised me easily enough. Tulen returned to work for the day, but Kesla was guide enough for the group, having been to Bavat before, so they'd already made impressive progress before I caught up with them again.
Finally I escorted them into the Academy's Armoury once more, and Art was like a little kid again once he got an eyeful of the racks upon racks of weaponry and armour. Krakka was more subdued, but I could tell he was still impressed as he looked around, slowly opening up to the possibilities on offer. Even Yeslee, who was initially very standoffish, became unusually curious as we wandered about, and more than once I caught her covetously eyeing the odd particularly well-made and ingenious piece in the collection.
Hurrig, on the other hand, only had eyes for our golem. He was very polite and understated about it, but it was clear as day to me that he was absolutely fascinated by Driver 8, who was perfectly happy to submit to a close inspection. Hurrig refrained from any unnecessary poking and prodding, but he was thorough all the same, and by the end I swear he was positively giddy about the experience. He must have asked a hundred questions while they were at it, and each was furnished with clear and concise answers, but even so I can tell Hurrig would've preferred it if Driver 8 could have stayed for a whole month for a proper evaluation.
And yet, at odd moments, I still felt time breathing down the back of my neck, the subtle gnaw of the urgency of my father's situation, whatever it might actually be, weighing hard on me. I put on the bravest face I could, but even so I could tell Kesla picked up on it well enough, staying close by my side the whole time, giving me smiles and friendly little shoulder nudges and the odd hug to keep my spirits up when needed. Mostly it worked.
When we called it a night after a big dinner in the private-hire back room of the hotel's restaurant, I could tell Art was a little frustrated we weren't cutting loose again to make up for coming up short the night before. He wore it well, though, putting on a brave face for me and promising that at least this meant he'd be on fine form in the morning when we make the jump. Then Tulen took me home again and tucked me in, but while she didn't talk my ear off this time it still took me a long time to get to sleep, and my sleep turned out more fitful. Bad dreams. In the end I gave up once it started to get light again and just camped out on Tulen's balcony with a blanket and my bearskin wrapped tight around me, watching the sunrise and hoping for a better day than the night I'd just had.
She found me there a few hours after dawn, dozing somewhat but still not really sleeping, and one of her half dozen cats, a big dumb ginger tom rather fittingly called Mr Idiot, had clambered into my lap sometime without me even noticing. She gave me strong coffee and fixed me a big breakfast that I found waiting for me once I had enough renewed energy to go back inside cradling the docile furry lump in my arms. He seems to have thoroughly claimed me, because he wouldn't leave me alone the whole time I've spent in Tulen's apartment.
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NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: Adventures of the Creeping Bam (BOOK 2: One Cold Trail)
काल्पनिकAfter their fateful misadventure in the mountainous Norther Reaches of RUNDAO, a dark new threat to all of RUNDAO has been revealed to the mercenary band of THE CREEPING BAM and their newest member, half-orc bandit SHAYLINE SWIFT-KILL. Returning th...
