Rune sat on his saddlebag and poked dismally at the fire, secretly wishing Brand and Tarot would shut up and go to sleep already. They hadn't consumed any alchoholic beverages, but from the way they laughed and danced around, one would think they had. The three of them hand been traveling for a whole day, with only short rests every now and then. Rune had wanted to keep going, but when it got dark, his friends insisted they stop for the night. He kicked a blackened log, frustrated. There was no telling what those men might be doing to Solara. He didn't think he would be able to eat or sleep as long as she was in danger.
"Aw, come on, Rune," Brand said, slapping him on the back. "Lighten up! It's not like Solara's dead or anything."
Rune scowled.
"Of course, it's only a matter of time," Tarot teased. His dark face was hard to see on the starless night, but the gleam of his white teeth gave his smile away. "Better start looking for somebody else."
"There won't be anyone else," Rune mumbled, in no mood for talking. "Not like her."
"Awww," Brand crooned, ruffling Rune's long brown hair. "Who's got a little girlfriend? Huh? R-U-N-E--"
Without turning around, Rune thrust his arm to the side and clapped his hand right over Brand's big mouth. "Hey, man, look. I got better things to do than listen to you two sad clowns talk drunken gibberish all night. So why don't you just--just go jump off a cliff or something."
"Speaking of girlfriends," Tarot continued, completely ignoring him, "I got my eyes on that pretty little sister of yours, Rune. Mm-hmm. She's a catch, for sure."
Brand gave him a playful shove. "Hands off, pal. She's mine. She likes me better than you, anyway."
"She barely even talks to you!" Tarot said indignantly. "I'm the one who gave her those roses for her birthday, thank you very much. And she kept them on her dresser until they rotted, too."
"Flowers?" Brand snorted. "I made her a silver bracelet, with my own tools. And bracelets don't rot."
"Girls like simplicity," Tarot retorted. "They like flowers. They like romantic men."
"Mine was romantic enough!" Brand cried. "It was simple, too. It only took a half hour to make."
"Oh, even better. I'm sure she would be happy to know she was only worth thirty minutes' work to you."
"It's not like picking a few stupid flowers takes much longer. I bet you wouldn't--"
"Look here," Rune interrupted, restraining a smile. "You circus freaks had better stay away from Vesper, both of you. She's only fourteen, too young for all this nonsense. And if I hear about either of you bothering her, I'll--I'll pulverize you."
They roared with laughter.
"Oh no, I'm terrified." Brand struck a manly pose and spoke in a deep voice. "You two goons stay away from my sister. If you don't, I will challenge you to a duel. Even though I could not even beat an old woman with one hand tied behind her back."
Rune tossed a piece of charcoal at him. "You know I wouldn't fight an old woman."
"Oh yeah, I forgot. He's too chivalrous. After all, he is Sir Rune the Valiant, isn't he? Sworn to defend the small and helpless, uphold justice, and fight for king and country." He sighed dreamily. "What a guy."
Tarot grinned. "Yeah, when he walks by a group of girls, the squeals are loud enough to start an avalanche."
Rune rolled his eyes. "You guys aren't so dashing yourselves."
"Not?" Brand raised his eyebrows in mock offense. "I'll have you know, sir; I was voted Most Dashing in Frealla by--by--"
"By himself," Tarot finished. "That title rightfully belongs to me."
Rune shook his head and studied them out the corner of his eye. Truth to tell, neither of them were particularly bad-looking. (His pride was a little too great for him to admit that they were handsome.) Brand was all arms and legs, with fair skin, curly red hair, and mischeivous green eyes. Girls thought he was weird, but they seemed to like him nevertheless. Rune even suspected that Vesper had a little crush on him, but then, she flirted with Tarot too. Tarot was definitely a ladies' man. He was charming and always seemed to know exactly what to say. He had skin the color of milk chocolate and enigmatic black eyes. He was muscular, too, Rune noted with something akin to jealousy. Rune was not exactly a beanpole himself, but he was thin.
"You guys got it all wrong," he stated. "Solara likes me, not you two. And any girl as beautiful as her could pretty much take her pick. Not to mention she's a princess. Beat that."
"Is this a challenge?" Brand demanded, grinning from ear to ear. "I bet you I could--"
Rune gasped as an arrow flew by his ear and imbedded itself in a nearby tree.
"What was that?" he hissed.
"Probably the black-mask guys," Brand whispered excitedly. "Let's go obliterate them!"
Tarot grabbed his arm and Rune's and pulled them behind a large bush. "Wait." He crept to the tree and pulled out the dart, then slipped back into hiding as another volley of arrows whistled through the air.
Despite the darkness, the design of the arrow was unmistakable. It was barbed, made of steel, and fletched with black and gold feathers. Rune would know that design anywhere, for it was the same type of arrow he seen buried in his father's heart four years ago.
Lord Zorraxadar.
. Though it is quite funny.
