Young Writers Society

A/N: I really hope the little joke this ends on works :P I think the rest of the travel will have to be summarised at the start of the next chapter. I could stick it on the end here, but I think I like the ending and this chapter is already 4000 words.

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Carefully watching Hilene and Victane allowed Buck to get back into the swing of horse-riding within an hour or so. They chatted a little any time they had to slow down, which was necessary whenever a group passed in the opposite direction. This seemed to happen a lot, like everyone but Buck was flocking to Resador City to see what Erson had been up to. For the most part, however, Buck didn't have to dwell on this, and could canter along in the summer sun.

"I'd head this way for the evening," Victane said eventually, bringing his horse to a stop. There was a track just wide enough for the three of them to go abreast. It headed into the treeline, and Buck couldn't see far along it.

"Is there somewhere to sleep?" he asked.

"An inn, aye," Victane said. "We can get some drinks and a proper bed."

Buck glanced up at the sun, which was just beginning to set. That meant it was late evening, which explained why his stomach wanted food. He nodded. "Alright, let's go."

The tavern turned out not to be too far from the road, but had been entirely obscured. Even at the edge of the forest, the trees were so thick that their branches knitted together, and the light was quickly fading. Soon though, the flickering lights were clearly visible through the steamed up windows. Victane was leading Buck to a small hut to the left, which served as a stables, then headed inside.

They were met with a rumble of chatter as the patrons of the busy tavern tucked into meals and drinks before them on the tables. There was less of a pattern to the tavern Buck used to perform in, which was almost like rows of seating in a theatre. However, there was a space cleared at one end, in the corner of which a woman was crouched down tightening the skin of a drum. Buck grinned.

Hilene seemed to notice. "You thinking there might be singing tonight?"

Buck led them towards a table just to the side of the bar, which was on the opposite side of the room from the woman with the drum. As they sat down, Buck said, "Definitely at some point. But I want to get a feel for the room first. No point launching into the call and response if they're expecting a narrative ballad. You two gotta listen carefully with me and analyse what you hear, yeah?"

"Of course!" Victane beamed. "I promised you some strategy and you're getting some strategy."

Hilene just nodded and got up to get drinks.

"Is he okay?" Buck asked. "He's been going quiet now and then, just like that. Like, when we were going to sleep last night. Normally that wouldn't be weird for Hilene, but after he got all chatty that night on the way out from the city..."

Victane glanced over his shoulder. Buck could see past him that Hilene was stuck in a bustling, disorderly queue.

Victane turned back around. "I should probably tell you that Hilene's not as big a fan of strategy as the two of us. It's actually one of the reasons he's excited about a change of scene. There's a lot of scheming and secrets in the city. I think he's just excited that he no longer has to be careful what he says."

Buck rocked backwards slightly. "Oh... So that's why he got so chatty. He'd kept himself all pent up. I thought maybe he'd suddenly been hit by a wave of curiosity. And then he went quiet again..."

"When the plotting started again," Victane said, "Exactly."

"But you enjoy plotting, scheming, strategy, and such?" Buck asked, his voice going slightly high pitched.

Victane smiled with one side of his mouth. "I enjoy seeing your spirits raised, young man."

Buck sighed slightly, satisfied with four questions successfully answered in a day. He'd tick them off on his parchment before bed, but for the moment he reached up to accept a flagon from Hilene.

Hilene shook his head rapidly as he sat down. "Gods, I miss my uniform. Usually takes me five seconds to get served."

Buck tilted his head to the side. "Do you think that'd get you drinks quicker out here?"

Hilene was quiet for a moment, and Buck worried he'd strayed too close to strategic discussion of power struggles. But a moment later, Hilene said, "Huh. I guess I never came to a place like this. I spent all my time in the palace music hall and the bar there."

No wonder you couldn't get away from the scheming, Buck thought. That room has gossip for cobwebs.

Buck observed the trends in the music silently as the performances began. First was the woman with her drum, beating it slowly at first, then faster and faster until her hands were a blur. Next was a man who just stood up and told jokes, the delivery of which also seemed to get faster as the performance went on. Then there was a young boy doing magic tricks, who at one point seemed to make fire come out of his eyes and shoot up into the ceiling, causing no damage whatsoever. All in all, still pretty Resadorian.

"Alright," Buck said, standing up and clapping his hands together. "I'm going to do a drinking song!"

He made his way to the empty space where the performances had been going on and spoke to a woman with short red hair who seemed to be handling the schedule.

"Ah, you're just in time, my friend. That was our last pre-scheduled performance." She smiled, showing well-kept white teeth. "And what name shall I announce you by?"

With minimal hesitation, Buck said, "Buttane, please."

"Wonderful, wonderful," she said. Buck noticed she was elongating some of her vowels in a rather sing-song voice. Very Resadorian indeed... the day's travel really hadn't brought them that far at all.

The woman announced him a moment later. He hurriedly got his possessions his bucket - Simone hidden in the dark fabric - then turned it upside down to make himself a drum. The song was easy enough for the crowd to pick it up, though he noticed with interest that they didn't already know it. In Resador, it was a widely known opening to a night of drinking.

After he finished the last cry of "and hurrah for all the trees!" there was widespread clapping and laughing, and he was waved over to the nearest table. He grinned as a drink was immediately pushed towards him and settled in for a long, merry evening of intelligence gathering.

That evening, he dragged himself sleepily upstairs to the room he'd rented for the night. He'd got a twin room for the two guards and a single for himself, figuring that they could maybe use a bit of time to chat. They seemed to know each other well, and would know what each other needed. Besides, they both went to bed much earlier than him.

He kicked off his shoes and plonked himself down onto the bed, curling his legs up in a basket. Then he grabbed the parchment and quill out of the bucket, taking Simone out too to give her a little air, and ticked off the four questions.

Question one: why was Hilene suddenly so curious? Answer: he'd been holding in all his chatter for fear of saying something wrong in a city where words built traps, where possible, marriages. Question two: why was Hilene upset before bed? Answer: he didn't like the return of the scheming. Question three: why had Victane been quiet outside? That one had been answered what felt like a long time ago, early in the morning. Answer: he was leaving the city where his daughter grew up. Question four: did Victane want to help with planning? Answer: it was more about seeing Buck happy, because Buck reminded him of his daughter.

"Wowee, Simone, busy day today, eh?" Buck whistled through his teeth. "And that's before I even note down the bar room chat I picked up through the night. Most of it was curiosity about what Erson's spending so long doing in the city. There were also rumours about a disagreement between the prince and a servant. Did you hear that, Simone? A servant! That's what I've been reduced to."

He tutted a little more as he took down his notes, leaving plenty of space for notes from the rest of the nights on the road. He also wrote himself a reminder to limit his alcohol intake going forward. He didn't lose his ability to take information on board as he drank, but he certainly couldn't operate with multiple hangovers day after day.

"Well, Simone, what do you think?" he said, as he stripped to his undergarments and pulled the covers over himself. He put the bucket on the ground and, tapping it three times, said, "Seem like a decent... rhythm?"

Simone looked up at him, then turned around and went back in the folds of the dark fabric. Buck chuckled at her continued disdain of puns, then blew out the candle by his bedside and went to sleep.