by Cheryl Dyson
******
Toryn was tired. He was tired of traveling, he was tired of listening to the obnoxious ranting of Lavan, he was tired of Alyn being someone else, and he was tired of her clinging to Davin like he was her pet mongrel. She had only insulted Toryn four times since they had rescued her from the horse thieves and once she had even apologized.
It was all because of that stupid Falaran. Redwing had been so busy acting like their leader that he had barely even spoken to Toryn, except to tell him to feed the horses, or gather the wood, or cook their meals. Toryn had a good mind to take his rotten mare and ride straight back to Redol. The mare, as if sensing his thoughts, looked up from where she ate dried grass and ambled over to the tree he lay against. She nuzzled his face for a moment and then sneezed wet grass bits all over him.
He flailed his hands at her and wiped his face with his arms while glaring at her. "Thank you so very much," he snapped. She swished her tail at him and went back to her grazing. He sighed. Stupid horse.
And then there was Sellaris. That wench had an acute lust for Redwing. Toryn wondered if Redwing would give up the quest after all, and for a mere wench! How could he? Toryn had to admit, if only to himself, that the very idea of the quest was enticing, especially if Redwing sought the Gauntlet of Ven-Kerrick.
He stood up, deciding it was high time to find Redwing. He needed to talk some sense into the man. Near the fire Lavan had finally shut up, probably because Verana had given him a strong cup of tea that had a sprinkle of one of Reed’s powders in it. For a healer, she could be extremely mercenary. Lavan was unconscious, which was the only state in which anyone could tolerate him. Garyn performed odd exercises with his bound arms.
"What are you doing?" Toryn asked when he did not spy Redwing. Toryn hoped he was not out doing something stupid with the redheaded wench. Garyn looked at him.
"If my arms are ever untied, I would like to have some use of them," Garyn explained. Toryn remembered when his arms had been tied back when Redwing had first captured him. It was not a pleasant memory.
"What would you do if I cut you loose?" Toryn asked, mirroring a question once asked of him.
"I doubt I could even pick up a sword, much less use it, so I do not think I would do much of anything."
"Would you try to escape?"
Garyn snorted. "Of course not. Sellaris was right. We are heading for Kaneelis and I, for one, feel safer traveling through this bloody swamp with a group this size. Even though," he added, "I would feel even safer with a sword in my hand."
"You don’t seem like a bad sort," Toryn said. "What are you doing with these others?"
Garyn turned slightly red and glanced quickly at Sellaris, who had returned to camp and tried to rouse Lavan for some reason that Toryn could not pretend to know. He looked from her to Garyn and comprehension dawned. Garyn was in love with her.
"I should warn you. She’s after Redwing," Toryn said somewhat maliciously in a low voice. Garyn glanced at him with a startled expression. "I caught them myself a few days ago. I don’t think their embrace was one of dislike."
Garyn switched his gaze back to Sellaris and a look of melancholy passed over his face. "She has never really seen me," he admitted, half to himself. "I have loved her since we were children, but she has not once looked at me as a potential lover." Toryn nodded in satisfaction. He reached down with his dagger and cut the bonds. If Garyn had made a declaration of anger or vengeance, Toryn would have had no qualms leaving him tied up. Garyn looked at him in surprise.
"Just don’t do anything stupid," Toryn warned. Garyn nodded and moved his arms apart, wincing at the action. Toryn knew he would be lucky to pick up a sword, even if the others were careless enough to leave one lying around. He moved off to find Redwing or Davin and then stopped, thinking it a bad idea to leave Verana and Alyn alone with both Sellaris and Garyn freed. Garyn he trusted marginally, Sellaris never.
He waited impatiently until Davin returned with two dead, ugly swamp rabbits. How he hunted with only a dagger was beyond Toryn’s ken, but it did not really matter as long as he was successful.
"Alyn wants you," Toryn said somewhat roughly as he neared the silver-haired man. Davin’s gaze flashed to Alyn and the look of puzzlement on his face was not feigned. It was plain he did not understand Alyn any better than the rest of them. "Have you seen Redwing?"
The silver-haired man shook his head. "Not since he went off with that woman," Davin replied.
"I’m going to look for him. Keep an eye on our little prisoners, especially that one." He gestured to "that woman", who threw him a look of pure dislike before she returned to the fruitless task of trying to wake her brother.
Davin nodded and Toryn went into the jungle to locate the Falaran.