Two Crows Watch from the Gallows Tree (part 3)

"Seems so," Pratik agreed. "She won't speak to me, really. Apparently, I'm not 'entitled' to know her story."

"A lot of the newer ones are snappy," Rickard mused. "And I can't imagine Lord Tarr was kind to her. I expect she wants to keep some things to herself to hold on to some individuality."

"That's true," Pratik answered, softening slightly. Remembering why it was that he wanted to help her in the first place. Despite how annoying she was being now. "I don't envy her."

"No." He sighed and shifted position, resting his back against the stone hearth. "I'm very glad I wasn't born a girl."

"Me too," Pratik agreed, cracking his neck. "The world is cruel, and it seems even worse for women. I'd much rather have a man's sword coming for me than his dick."

Rickard was silent as he closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose. "I hope she won't come to any more harm. I hope we get to Serpent's Keep and get these collars off. I hope for a lot of things."

"All reasonable things to hope for." Pratik cracked his back and rolled his shoulders, still trying to work some of the stiffness out. At least now, he wasn't frozen straight through. That was an improvement.

Rickard sat there for a moment longer, then eased himself back onto the blanket. "I'm going to get some sleep," he said. "Best to rest well before we wake; we're leaving early, aren't we?"

"We are," Pratik agreed. He walked to the window and peered out. The moon was high overhead -- the center of night. He pressed his palms against his eyes with a sigh. "I'll be up in four to five hours. We'll leave then."

"Wake me then; I'm a light sleeper." Rickard curled himself gingerly on the blanket on the floor, resting his head on his arms. "Goodnight, Aren."

"We can both fit in the bed," Pratik said, a prick of guilt running through his conscience at leaving an old man curled on the floor.

Rickard raised his head, hope dawning in his eyes. "Don't you want it to yourself?" he asked, trying not to sound too eager.

"Nah," Pratik said, gesturing at it with a smile, pleased that Rickard seemed open to the idea. "I'd prefer to take the side closest to the door, but I don't need a whole bed to myself."

Rickard got to his feet slowly, grimacing from the saddle sores before his face broke out into a wide smile. "You're very kind. Thank you." He approached the bed, running a hand over the quilt for a moment before sitting down carefully. He gasped softly, bouncing himself slightly on the mattress. "Oh!"

Pratik grinned. Rickard was like a small child, just discovering joy in the world. He sobered a moment later. That wasn't funny. A grown man -- probably more than twice his age -- didn't know what it felt like to sleep in a bed. Maybe he should just let him have it to himself.

Pratik considered it for a moment, then dismissed the idea. Rickard would probably feel guilty if Pratik offered to take the floor, and he didn't want Rickard to feel like Pratik was trying to avoid being in the bed with him. They could both fit. Pratik never moved much when he was sleeping as it was.

He unbuckled the sword and propped it up next to the bed, setting the dagger on the nightstand by the bed, then he pulled back the quilt on his side and sat down, giving a contented sigh as he pulled his boots off and set them on the floor next to the bed, deciding it was an acceptable level of risk here to warrant being shoeless. He'd not be removing them again after this.