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#11 |
Spirited Weaver of Fates
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Toby Longholes
“T…T…Toby L…Longholes" he managed to stammered, his throat dry and hoarse from fear, he could feel himself shaking under the gaze of her sharp cold eyes, eyes that clearly marked the danger he was in. 'Well done Toby! Out of the frying pan into the fire!' he thought coldly. This was the person Barrold had been cursing just before he met with Kaldir and obviously the one The rangers where searching for, it all suddenly fell into place, making him feel more miserable than he thought possible. He knew nothing of folk outside Breeland, a choice he now consciously regretted, oh! Yes, he had dealings with men other than those of Bree but he never much cared for the news of other folk unless it of course affected him directly. However, of elves he knew nothing only what fireside stories told, a wise and wondrous fair folk he recalled and until today, he had never met any. Now he had met two and within hours of one another, ‘not good’ he thought bitterly. Although this one was fairer than the other was and had more of a regal air, she terrified him. The one with the rangers had not spoken to him and when she did look his way, it had been with a kind and sympathetic eye. Which at the time he had bitterly resented, but now he half wished he were back at the inn under her soft gaze, Rather than under the murderous look of the elf before him. He felt trapped like a rabbit in its burrow and a sleek fox that would take pleasure playing with him if he tried to make for the opening blocked the only exit. He could feel her taking measure of him and he shuddered slightly, He thought hard, he had to think of something before she decided that he had seen too much for her to keep him alive. "Y…y…you..." he began weakly, but then coughed hard to harden his resolve "You are Master Ferney's guest are you not?" He gulped and flinched involuntary as her hand pulled taunt the silk tread in her hands, "And what makes you think that Mr Longholes!" Her soft melodic voice still carried a hint of threat. "Err, I… I..." he stammered again, then he remembered the pouch in his hands, "I just passed Ferney's place, crawling with rangers it was," he exaggerated, "I figured he had a new guest if they were snooping about," he continued making sure the disdain was apparent when he spoke of the rangers. "you are acquainted with Barrolds business!" she asked her eyes narrowing, making him again shiver, "I am aquatinted with his trade, I... err come across things that he might sell for a profit and on occasion I... eh watch things for him and tell him of things that he might be interested in," he explained. "Thief and spy then!" she hissed mockingly, This made the hairs on the back of his neck raise and his boldness returned, "I'll have you know I proved an excellent spy for Barrolds cousin Bill during old Shark’s hold of the Shire and if it wasn't for the return of that... that.... Master Baggins and his busybody companions...” he spat heatedly, and then remembering his situation, he restrained his anger, and went on casually. "Anyway you have not asked how I reasoned that you were their intent” he grinned proudly, but dropping it at her sharp impatient look. “W...well there was more than Rangers snooping about, there was one of your kind! A woman well armed and searching just as intently if not more so than the rangers. When I passed they stopped me and asked if I had seen any foreigners in town, but when I informed them that I had not they went back to their meddling. But I caught a few of their words, your name not the least.” The last was of course a complete fabrication but he was confident that he had pulled it off convincingly. "This elf what did she look like?" Naiore commanded a little surprised by the question, he had to think for a moment while he recalled how see looked, "She was tall and slender, with a noble bearing about her, her hair unlike yours was long and dark, but sunlight showed that it was flecked with gold. She did not speak but her grey eyes felt like they looked right into my heart.” He shivered as he recalled the woman’s unnerving gaze back at the prancing pony. "Oh! and she had an exquisite silver brooch clasped at her pale neck, expensive it looked, the detail extensive, a tree of the likes I've never seen before flanked by a silvery crescent moon" he added as if just remembering its beauty and value. The elf seemed to be deep in thought but as he shifted his footing uncomfortably, she shot him a look as if daring him to move that she could pounce. So instead, he sighed miserably and slumped to sit on the cold floor, waiting for her to decide what to do with him. The thought that Barrold himself might be joining them did not escape his mind, he could only hope that he was not seen at the house or that Barrold came straight to his guest without returning home. Last edited by Nerindel; 03-12-2004 at 06:43 PM. |
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