Anger's flared, then smoldered. They were strangers and couldn't afford to
provoke anyone. Rift accepted a room while Tarin accepted the
responsibility of guarding their two "partners." Fred and Astra made their
beds of blankets and straw and all the while a torrent of thoughts, of
hopes and anxieties, roiled within the heart and mind of the warrior
maiden.
There was little talk that evening as the dwarf smoked his pipe and Fred tied knots on a counting rope. The strong odor of roast and ale reminded them of Rift's whereabouts. Outside, the night advanced in quiet. Fred knew not how to console his friend. There she was, dark as coal, her skin looking almost burnt. The innkeeper had mentioned the word 'demoness' and Fred could see why. As the stars shined in the late hour and only crickets played their fiddles, Astra and Fred lay their heads down to sleep. Before their eyes closed, however, a new sound was heard drifting in the night air. "My woman stands at her window, Astra lifted herself and remembered. She remembered days frolicking in the woods and nights dancing round the pole; she remembered her many sisters and the fun they all enjoyed. She thought of her sisters --would she ever regain their company?-- and she felt a keen loss. Hearing the song of the lover outside, she turned her face from the knight and the dwarf, and in the starlight only the crickets witnessed the tear upon her cheek.
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9/6/1999 9:39:06 PM
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