Part 8
Taala led the way into the brooding Chetwood, moving with careful confidence, following game trails and skirting clearings. Once or twice she held up her hand, calling for a pause whenever footsteps or low voices were heard. Skirting around dells from which firelight and course laughter seeped, it is almost midnight when the pair find themselves nestled flat amid a thick clump of tangled alder bushes, watching the abandoned stedding that Scar-Arm surrendered as their hideout.
They were back on better terms after another business discussion that took place not long after he'd pinned her up against the door of the shack they'd interrogated Scar-Arm in.
“I reckon this is going to cost me more than a sword, could be a lot of blood on your hands, you still with me?” Taala's eye's met his.
Eroforth 's mouth pursed in thought. "P'raps. But from what I hear 'bout you and your associates 'round Bree, you're good for it. We can decide afterwards what's owing. Right now, we need t' move, not dicker like traders in th' Auction House."
Taala felt a little uncomfortable at the thought of an unfinished deal, pondering briefly she nodded "I reckon, we need to at least agree a minimum...a job like this, who knows what might be asked of you, but I at least need to know you'll see it through whatever comes at us?"
Eroforth shrugged. "Depends on what we find." He grinned slightly. "Though seems I'm in a position t' name the price, bein' the only one out here." He pondered for a second, "500 silver, plus 200 a head if we fight. And first choice on my half of the loot - excepting the locket, of course, or anything else of yours they've still got... All things considered, the price is more than reasonable, sure to come out to less than a gold”. He held up one hand. " Oh and any bottle of my choice from b'hind Barliman's counter!"
Taala 's grin broadened as his list grew and grew. "Sure you don't want the clothes off my damned back in the bargain?" she chuckles, knowing she'd have paid more, but at the same time she would not be hoodwinked, "you drive a hard bargain, you should be a damned sellsword" she stretched out her hand, "you got yourself a deal"
Eroforth pauses, looking her up and down. "Nah," he said after a moment. "They'd not fit me. And I'd not look half as good in 'em." He hesitated taking her offered hand. "I do got one more condition. An' it's not open to debate." He fixed his eyes upon her, dark, intense, and very serious now. "I gave my word t' that fellow that I'd see his woman safe. You did too. 'nless there's no other way, we leave her unbloodied." “Gave my word, and you ain't got th' gold t' buy that”.
Taala gave a stout nod, her trust in him growing, seemed the man had a sense of honour after all, after watching him torture Scar-Arm, she wasn't sure he was capable of empathy...she eyed him and then shook his hand firmly... “We made a deal didn't we?”
Lain flat on their bellies and peering out through the darkness at the stead the bandits were said to be using, the smell of mold rose about them, and the earth beneath them was cold and damp, the only warmth felt was where they press together, side by side. Eroforth put his hand on her shoulder and leaned in to whisper a plan. "Three on watch, doubtless more inside. At least one of those three with a bow... What do you think?"
Taala studied the men outside carefully, and whispered in reply, "I see no more than three either, I am not sure of your methods, but the bowman I would usually take down first...but we risk them raising the alarm, if they do not all fall more or less together"
Eroforth took his dagger and made a crude drawing of the layout upon the ground, and soon a plan of attack was formed, that would require discipline, teamwork, a contingency, improvisation if something went wrong...and perhaps a little luck in the bargain...
