On The Right Track

Writers: Devin, Kaysea
Date Posted: 12th February 2008

Characters: Klegen, Boesyn
Description: The two kidnappers are still on the trail of Royani and Marod, and closing the gap
Location: Elsewhere on Pern
Date: month 8, day 20 of Turn 4

"Well, that was interesting." Klegen said, as they made their way up the track, and away from the Tavern. "If it had just been men's clothes or even food, I wouldn't have thought much, but women's clothing too." he shook his head. "I knew we were on the right track, they must be near here somewhere."

It had been almost two sevenday since they had last had positive proof the two runaways were still heading in this roundabout way back to Amber Hills Hold. What surprised him was the fact neither had come out openly and declared they needed help, and _that_ was what made him cautious.
"Come on." he grabbed Boesyn by the arm, "we need to pack. If they've gotten supplies, it must mean they're on the move again."

Boesyn groaned. All this running from place to place was exhausting.
"It's been _months_ now. Can't we just let them go?" The inn was warm, and it was sharding _cold_ outside.

"No! I want the marks I was promised." I also want to live free, he thought to himself. And there was no guarantee that the person who had hired them originally would allow them to maintain their freedom, or even their lives, if they didn't follow through on their job. "I'm not letting that skinny little lout get the best of me. Or that wench." his words ground out, as once again he felt the anger build within him at Marod's duplicity.

"We could've made a lot _more_ marks if we found another job and didn't spend our time chasing them all over Pern," Boesyn grumbled as he followed Klegen along the track.

"Look you." Klegen turned on the larger man, "They won't get away with making a fool of me, and neither will you. If you value your life, you'll do as I say." he grabbed Boesyn by the collar, "Do I make myself clear?" he asked, through gritted teeth. There was gleam in his eye that hadn't been there before, it was like a madness had come over him, consuming him completely and the madness had a name - Royani.

Boesyn's eyes widened. No one grabbed him like that. _No one_. The look in his boss's eyes made him think better of questioning their search any more. At least for today. "Alright, we'll go pack. But we ain't got hardly no marks left. How we gonna pay for the next place?"
They couldn't steal a room they had to pay up front for.

"Leave that to me..." Klegen said, making his way a little further down the track, but he glanced over his shoulder occasionally at the men leaving the Tavern behind. "I have a plan, and it might net us more than a mark or two."

~*~

"Shh!" Klegen hissed, "I can see him now." the other patrons had passed by, but the man with the gold chain and watch had been the last to leave, luckily for them. He wasn't even riding his runner, probably too inebriated to climb aboard the beast, anyway, Klegen surmised; the sound of the runners hooves on the cold, hard track were unmistakable.

Boesyn watched Klegen silently, waiting for his command.

Just as the shadowy figure drew even with them, Klegen gave the order, and both men sprang out, Klegen reached for the runner, as Boesyn took the man out. "Search him, I know he had a pouch on him full of marks, he was jingling it loudly enough in the Tavern." Klegen barked harshly, trying to control the runner who had become skittish in the skirmish.

The large man pawed through the unconscious patron's clothing and came up with a pouch of marks. "Got it." He handed the pouch to Klegen. He might be overly obsessed with Marod and that girl, but Boesyn had to admit that Klegen had never failed to keep them in food and lodging.
And even the occasional woman.

"Is he dead?" he asked of Boesyn, as he roughly estimated how many marks were in the pouch. Enough to buy them food and lodging for the next sevenday, and more from the weight of the pouch alone. "I'd love to keep his runner, but it'd be too easily identified." he mused, taking in the broad band of white running through the roans face.

"Still breathin'," Boesyn grunted.

Four white socks and what looked like a white star on the rump would make it obvious if descriptions were sent around the area. Besides, they would look a right pair, if people saw them both riding the runner.
"Drag him off into the bush, we'll leave his runner loose."

"Kay." Boesyn grabbed the man's arms and pulled him off the track.

The runner followed them more sedately as his rider let out a pained groan as Boesyn unceremoniously dumped him amongst the weeds at the side of the track. Klegen gave him a shove with his foot, to make sure the man wasn't about to come around again.

When he was satisfied their victim wouldn't recover his senses any time soon, he walked back out to the track. "Okay, we'll sleep for a couple of candlemarks and then we'll make our way further south-east, I can almost smell them, we're that close, I just know it!"

"I hope so," Boesyn muttered. Then they could finally stop chasing those sharding kids.

Last updated on the February 14th 2008

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On The Right Track