Dari walked without complaint or further talk until they veered off the well trod path, and the forest eventually gave way to a clearing where a horse grazed. His gaze locked onto a log, and he sighed, already dreaming of how good it would feel to finally sit down and stretch his aching legs and feet after the longest day of walking he'd ever had. His old master liked to ride hard sometimes, especially when they really had to make a town in time for a market, but then they rode in a cart. Still, the witcher's silent company had been a rather pleasant change from his usual travelling associates, and he'd had plenty of water.
Aside from the horse, unburdened by its tack and luggage, as those were set neatly to one side at the foot of a nearby tree, there was no sign of the other witcher they were meeting. Dari could hardly believe his luck, to get to meet two witchers in one day. His new master hadn't said for how long they would be travelling with the other witcher or where they would go. He trailed along behind his master, even slower than before, now that they were so close to rest, and lingered uncertainly nearby as the witcher dismounted his horse and led him to where the other horse grazed, stopping near the log and waiting.
Aiden was nearby. The area smelled so strongly of him that Lambert knew Aiden had been there a few hours at least and had only recently left, and he could hear his lover's heartbeat, even if he couldn't quite pinpoint exactly where he was, the moment they'd entered the clearing. He was up in some tree, no doubt, waiting to pounce. He gently guided Horse to a stop and swung his leg over and down to the ground. Aiden's heartbeat was getting closer, and his own was picking up in anticipation.
From the treetops, Aiden watched Lambert and some boy arrive at their camp, and, with a sly grin, he admired Lambert's backside as the man dismounted his horse. Silently, he crept closer, keeping his breathing as shallow as possible and trying to sync his heartbeats with the others in the forest. It was a game they played, each trying to sneak up on the other when they met up. Neither had won yet, but Aiden was determined.
At Lambert and the boy's backs, Aiden fell to the ground in a crouch and gracefully straightened, leaning casually against the tree's trunk with his arms crossed loosely across his chest. "I thought you'd bring me dinner, but this doesn't look edible," he said gesturing to the boy who'd jumped quite pleasingly and whose heartbeat was now so fast Aiden would have been concerned if it wasn't also rapidly returning to baseline. Lambert, unfortunately, was unruffled. His approach had been noticed.
"Everything's edible if you try hard enough," Lambert replied automatically as if it was a line he said often, and he turned with a grin towards Aiden. "An' fuck you, you lazy ass. I've been on the road all day, you've been lounging around here for hours. You go get me dinner."
Aiden chuckled with an answering grin, then moved closer, staring directly and unblinkingly at the boy. "Who's this, then? He's not a bard, is he?" Wolves liked bards. Or was it that bards liked Wolves? Perhaps an experiment was in order at the next town they reached.
Despite knowing another witcher was around, Dari had thought himself and his master alone in the clearing. He jumped and whirled towards the newcomer, his hand pressed to his racing chest, fingers bunched around the fabric. But the adrenaline faded quickly, and he watched intently as the two bantered. Then the other witcher's keen gaze turned towards him. He immediately straightened and clasped his hands behind his back, angling his own gaze down towards the witcher's feet and only taking the occasional millisecond to glance at the man's face and those unnerving eyes pinned on him. He resisted the urge to fidget, but he felt like a mouse backed into a corner before a bored cat.
The silence between the witcher's question and an answer grew a little too long, so Dari softly cleared his throat and looked up, towards the witcher's chest - right at a medallion bearing the image of a cat peeking out from the witcher's unlaced tunic - fitting, he thought - then bowed deeply. "My name is Dariush. I am my master's new slave. I was given to him by my previous master as payment for his assistance slaying the beast that beset us on our travels through the pass."
Aiden's eyebrows shot up, and his wide-eyed gaze whipped to Lambert. "They paid you in kid? You accepted payment of kid?"
Lambert shrugged casually, but his tone turned defensive. "The dick was insistent. What was I supposed to do? Couldn't kill 'em all and couldn't just leave him alone on the mountain, could I? Besides, I got actual payment later from Belhaven." He waved his hand dismissively at the kid. "We'll figure out what to do with him."
Aiden's mouth clicked shut, and he stared at Lambert and the boy until the silence grew long and heavy. Then, he let his body relax and smirked. "So, not a bard, then. Shame. Could've used some songs." His arms uncrossed as he moved away, towards the trees. "I'll go hunt up some food. You're right. A task like that is best left to a Cat, the master hunters, not the puppies - fuck knows what you'd come back with next. Probably a large stick or something. Some poisonous mushrooms." He grinned and ducked the rock Lambert threw his way.
"That was once," Lambert muttered to himself, though it was loud enough for Aiden's witcher hearing to pick up. "And they weren't that poisonous, just a little spicy."
Aiden chuckled, and his smirk deepened. "Bring a bard next time. Why should your brother have all the fun?" He ducked another rock and laughed as he disappeared into the trees in search of their meal.
Dari stared after Aiden even when he could no longer see him, then turned his confused, though entertained, face to his master. Even the rocks his master had thrown hadn't seemed truly aimed, nor had Aiden seemed even remotely concerned, and there was no feeling of ill will - only an echoed, gruff amusement and a warm feeling Dari couldn't place. He'd never seen adults interacting quite like that with each other before, although some of the servants could be friendly with one another as they worked. Aiden and his master's easy manner almost reminded him of the one long-married couple he'd known who had been servants on his master's estate. He turned to watch his master and clasped his hands behind his back, tilting his head as he considered the thought while awaiting further orders.
With Aiden off, Lambert turned back to his horse and felt the kid's eyes on him. "You know how to set up a camp?"
Dari's head tilted to the other side as he pondered his skills and the usual tasks involved, and he glanced around the space. There was an oilcloth already hung across some branches with a rolled bedroll set beneath, but there was no fire pit dug out or wood for it. "I am able to set out bedrolls and gather wood for a fire, sir," he said. "I will do whatever you ask me to do, of course, master, but the guards set up our camps so that is all I have been shown how to do."
"That's fine, kid," Lambert shrugged. "I don't actually need your help, but I want you staring at my back even less. Go gather as much wood as you can. Bring it back, and put it there." He pointed to a spot near the log Dari desperately desired to sit upon. "Dry wood, if you can find it. Got it?"
Dari nodded. "Yes, sir." He nodded sharply and headed off into the woods, in the opposite direction Aiden had gone, in search of suitable wood.
With the kid occupied and out of his hair for two seconds, Lambert set about efficiently stripping his horse of its burden. He tossed his bedroll to join Aiden's and brushed down Horse before leaving the animal to graze in peace. By the time the kid returned, he had almost finished digging out a temporary fire pit, and he nodded at the pile of sticks the kid had collected. "Good," he said. "Drop 'em here."
The kid's obedience apparently had a limit, because Dariush did not drop them, but rather piled them carefully though inexpertly. Lambert rolled his eyes impatiently behind the kid's back but waited all the same. "Bedrolls are there." He jerked his head in the direction as he focussed on re-stacking the wood correctly.
Dari nodded and wandered off to lay out the bedrolls where his master had indicated. He put them side by side - they must sleep close, he thought, since they seemed to be such close friends - and took great care to ensure there were no rocks or sticks underneath, so that his master and his master's friend's sleep would be as pleasant as it could be outside on the hard ground.
With that task done, he looked to his master for guidance, but the witcher didn't look like he cared what Dari was doing. Dari shrugged internally and cautiously moved to the log, sinking down onto it with a quiet, grateful sigh. He carefully pulled off his cloth shoes and set them aside, then stretched out his legs, lightly massaging the aching muscles. Sitting down might be his favourite activity.
His eyes lazily wandered around their campsite, his breathing deep and his mind peaceful as he listened to the birds flitting about overhead, and he smiled softly at the beauty of the setting sun's rays peeking through the branches. Always vigilant, he absently turned towards his master to ensure his master didn't disapprove of his rest or need him for anything.
The master wasn't even looking at him.
He watched as the witcher built up a makeshift spit made from large sticks and hung a pot on it, then his master moved further away to take off his outer layers of armour before rummaging around in his pack for an empty, larger, waterskin, and muttered something about filling it up before disappearing. Aiden returned shortly carrying a brace of rabbits slung over his shoulder and an armful of greens, Lambert and the now full waterskin in tow.
"Dariush," Aiden called as he grabbed his pack and set it near the fire pit, taking out a large cloth and laying it down, weighting the edges with rocks, and dumped the greens on it. The boy seemed a little isolated where he was. "Come help us get the food ready." He added potatoes and dried mushrooms from his pack to the pile and set a small knife to the side, taking another for himself, and then he moved to a nearby tree and hung the rabbits by their back feet from a low branch.
Dari's gaze darted quickly to his master for approval before he nodded. "Yes, sir." He hesitated when he reached Aiden's side, until the witcher gave him a small reassuring smile and pointed to the cloth. Dari sat next to it, crossing his legs, and looked expectantly at the man. "How may I assist?"
"Cut the potatoes into fours," Aiden said. "Doesn't have to look pretty or anything, but get them about the same size if you can. Set them aside when you're done. Then," he pointed to the spring onions and goosegrass he'd brought back, "chop those up. If you don't know how, I'll show you one first. If there's a lot of dirt on them, rinse it off, but only if there's a lot. A little dirt won't kill you," he grinned, "but Lambert's mushrooms might, so don't eat any he offers you." This time, he wasn't quick enough to escape the pebble that hit the back of his head. "The garlic you can leave as it is."
Dari nodded seriously - for effect - his eyes sparkled with the laughter he held back. "I have seen someone become deathly ill after eating mushrooms they had thought were safe. It was unpleasant." He glanced over the ingredients of their soon-to-be prepared meal. "If I taste anything spicy, I shall spit it out and tell you at once, sir."
Lambert groaned as he lowered himself to sit on the other side of the cloth. He added a few carrots and parsnips that had formed part of his payment for the gryphon to the pile and started chopping them into smaller pieces. "If I'd known the two of you would gang up on me, I'd've left you on that mountain. Who needs this shit after a long day?"
The raised eyebrow and feeling of contented, good-natured grousing coming from Lambert, as his master was apparently called, made Dari's lips twitch with the effort of holding back a smile. "Oh, no, sir. I would never disrespect you like that. You are my master." He dipped his head in a quick bow. No master had ever been so indulgent as to allow him to engage like this. Was the invitation a trick? If his master was the type, he wanted to know now. He waited with his breath held.
Lambert snorted. "You hear this kid? Unbelievable." His eyes caught Aiden's and for a brief moment his face softened further and he smiled. "I guess I didn't make you walk enough, not if you've still got enough energy to hassle your elders." The kid's bare feet caught his attention, and he frowned slightly, suddenly remembering the state of the kid's footwear. "Where are your boots?"
Dari felt the change in mood, and he tensed a little. To keep his hands busy, he picked up the knife and the first potato to start the task Aiden had set him. "They are there," he said carefully, uncertain of the purpose of the question, pointing to where they lay at by the log. "Should I have them closer to me?"
"Those aren't boots," Lambert replied without even needing to look. "Are those your only shoes? You must have travelling boots. You were walking through a fuckin' mountain pass fuckin' leagues away from wherever you lived in Nilfgaard."
Dari paused and titled his head as he stared, puzzled, at Master Lambert. "Slaves are not permitted shoes. My master was kind enough to allow me those when we travelled. I do not have any others and never have." Lambert and Aiden both stared at him, and Dari pulled back at two sets of intense stares aimed at him.
"Those aren't suitable shoes. You need boots." Lambert put down his knife and leaned towards the kid. "Wait. Do you mean you've never worn proper shoes?"
Dari's eyes were wide, and he shrugged and spread his hands. "I— Slaves are not permitted shoes," he repeated. "But I have worn those since we left on our travels."
Lambert and Aiden looked at each other. "Boots might be worse, if he's not used to them," Aiden said.
"He wouldn't have to wear them all day," said Lambert. "We could switch them out until he's used to it. Don't think we've got much of a choice. If he's gonna be walking with us, he'll need boots. It's probably a miracle he hasn't already lost his feet to infected blisters — we'll check 'em later." Lambert grimaced slightly. "But I guess it also depends how long he's gonna be with us…" Their stares once more synchronised and intensely focussed returned to Dariush. "Where did you say you're from?"
Dari blinked owlishly. "I… I have not." He frowned down at his lap, the knife and the potato both now forgotten in his lap, and sorted through his memories as he considered the question. He swallowed thickly and pursed his lips. "I do not know where I am from," he murmured softly, not looking up again.
Most witchers didn't know where they were from, but it was unusual to hear that from a human. "What do you mean, you don't know where you're from?" Aiden asked. The boy's scent had turned achingly sad and his posture was more rigid than it had been earlier, so he began again on the rabbit, angling himself so he could still see the boy out of the corner of his eye. A warm meal would comfort him. "Aren't you Nilfgaardian? Your Common's pretty good, by the way."
Lambert couldn't help but smirk when he saw Dariush's nose scrunch up in the same way it had when he'd said almost the exact same thing to the kid earlier in the day and, taking a chance, he parroted the line Dariush had said then.
"I am not Nilfgaardian, I have merely lived there many years."
The gamble paid off. Dariush replied exactly as he had before, and they spoke at the same time. The kid shot him a dirty look that Lambert was certain he hadn't been meant to see, and he turned his laughter into a cough as Aiden kicked him rudely and sharply in the ribs. "See? I pay attention sometimes," he said.
Aiden rolled his eyes skywards as if begging for patience, but he smiled. "Then how'd you become a Nilfgaardian slave? Start from the beginning, and tell us everything you can remember." He nudged Lambert with his foot again, urging him to start chopping again. Dariush followed their lead, he noted, and picked up the potatoes. "Maybe we can figure out where you're from." He shared a covert look with Lambert. If they couldn't, what would they do with the boy then? It hung in the air between them as they focussed on preparing the food.
Dari let the silence fall as he studiously quartered the potatoes, setting them onto the cloth as he finished them. He'd moved on to the greens before he spoke again. "I have been a slave for almost as long as I can remember." His voice was so quiet, he wasn't sure if the witchers could hear him, but he was afraid to speak louder. He had never spoken of this before.
"I was five years old when I was taken. There are raiders - men who travel from Nilfgaard into neighbouring lands and snatch anyone they can before taking them back to Nilfgaard and the slave markets there." He worried his lip. "I remember that I had a brother. An older brother. And a younger sister, I think. My brother and I… We would play together. My parents told us not to play by the great river when they were not there to watch over us, but…" He swallowed thickly and ducked his head to scrub away tears before they could fall. He took a deep, stuttering breath to gather himself. "But we did anyway. I remember that day was warm, and we had been playing outside a long time. We went to the river to splash in the shallows, and we were splashing each other when they came. The men with knives and swords on horses."
He didn't dare look at the witchers. "My brother… I think he tried to help me. He would, wouldn't he? If he was my older brother?" His voice was small and uncertain. "He was hurt - I do not know if he lived - and they took me. I screamed and screamed, and I tried to get away from them, but I couldn't. They took me back with them, and I was sold to my first master."
Neither witcher responded immediately when Dariush finished speaking, but the silence felt sad and sympathetic. Aiden had no memories of his own family, nor did he know where came from, and Lambert still keenly remembered the pain of being ripped away from his home - as shit as it was, the mother he'd loved, and the father he'd hated. They knew nothing they could say would make the losses easier to bear. Aiden let his fingertips brush gently against Lambert's shoulder. "How old are you now?" he asked. An easy, simple question before the interrogation continued.
Dari glanced at them and then dumped the greens he'd finished chopping back onto the pile. His hands felt shaky and nervous without anything to do. "I am twelve."
Aiden inhaled sharply. He'd thought the boy was young, but he hadn't been sure. It was hard to tell with humans, when you hadn't been one for so long you'd forgotten what it was like and how you'd aged as a child. "That's a long time to be away from your family."
Dari gave a small shrug. "I hardly know anything else."
Aiden nodded as he took the skinned and gutted rabbits and sat down beside Lambert, their knees just touching, and began to butcher them. "Yeah." He took a breath. "What else do you remember of your family and your home? Do you remember what work your parents did? Or anything about the town? How long did it take to reach Nilfgaard? Any details you can remember, Lamb and I might be able to put it all together and figure out where you're from. If so, we'll take you back, help you find your family - if they're still around to be found - or maybe someone who used to know you."
Dari sighed softly and hung his head. While sometimes, in his weakest moments, he'd thought of running away and doing the same as his masters were now offering to him, mostly the memories were too painful. What hadn't been lost to time and growing up, he'd tried to bury and never revisit.
"I do not know how long it was to Nilfgaard," he murmured. "I don't remember. It felt like years but could have been anywhere from days to months." He closed his eyes, and despite the discomfort, let himself again find those memories he'd pushed so carefully away. "We followed along the great river for a while, until well after I had given up crying, and then we turned away from it. We went to Cintra, but I do not know from which direction, although I remember passing through mountains. I had never seen mountains before. In Cintra, they put me aboard a boat with others who were also to be sold. I was alone—" He stuttered and frowned. His memories were too fuzzy to say that with certainty. "I think I was alone with them before then. I don't know if that…was the plan. Until they reached the boat, one of the men passed me off as his son." Dari's lips tightened in anger. "The boat from Cintra sailed to Baccalà, which is where I was sold. The journey was long and horrible."
His hands twisted together in his lap as he cast his mind further back. "I remember even less about…about before. The river was so big and very powerful. It ran into the sea near where we played. We lived near the sea. I remember once when all of us went, and we ate together on the beach." He smiled faintly as he recalled the picture, even though he had forgotten what his parents looked like or the sound of his mother's laugh. That they had once existed all together was enough. "My baba - aba-" He cleared his throat. "I apologise. My father, in the Common… I know that he was a fisherman. He took me with him once, so early in the morning." He could almost smell the salt and feel the sunrise of the memory.
"Imah…" He sighed softly, nostalgic, full of love and longing. "I do not remember her face, but I know that she had long, black hair that was curly like mine - even curlier, and she used to tie it up when she would work on potions or cook." His brows furrowed as he pieced together snippets from childhood that he hadn't understood at his younger age. "I think that she made healing potions for people, especially women. She had many herbs, and we would help her collect them."
He smiled, thinking of a time he had accompanied her to pick flowers, and she picked him up, held him close, and danced with him while singing, spinning him around and their laughter mingling. "She visited many people. Sometimes, she would go to sit with the women, and I wanted to go, too, but baba would tell me I could not for only women could. And the women would visit with babies, and we would play with them." His nose scrunched. "I think that it was a small town. I do not remember much of it, but I do not recall anything that makes me believe it would be a city, like Towers. And maybe… Maybe there was no market?" He opened his eyes and looked at the witchers. "Or if there was a market, I do not remember one."
Aiden nodded. "Somewhere on the coast by a river. That does narrow it down." He turned to Lambert. "How many places you know like that?"
Lambert grunted. "It is a start," he agreed. "But if it's as small as the kid thinks, it could be almost fuckin' anywhere along the coast." He gave a more reassuring look to Dariush. "I can think of a few rivers off the top of my head, but my geography's shit. We'll check our books in the morning, see if we can figure out the best place to start. It'll take a while to get all the way out to the coast."
"Yeah," Aiden said. "It's a lot of rough terrain. You might be right about the boots," he said to Lambert. He set his half-prepared rabbits aside, rinsed his hands with a little water from the large skin, and turned to kneel in front of Dariush. "May I look at your feet? We want to check them to see if you've got a lot of blisters or any infection. If we had to, we'd chop off your foot before an infection could kill you, but we don't want it to get that far. And whatever idiotic thoughts your former master had, those shoes probably aren't protecting your feet very well. But maybe they are. I've seen stranger things."
Dari had heard stranger things, and he nodded slowly as he scooted back, putting a bit of distance between himself and the witcher so he could uncross his legs for a foot inspection. "Yes, sir. I also would like to keep my feet."
Aiden chuckled as he settled in and gently took each of the boy's feet in turn, judging the state of the skin and the various blisters and calluses. "Do you know how to ride a horse?" The answer was likely no — confirmed moments later with a shake of the boy's head. "Well, it's not as bad as I was imagining it might be, but it would've been good to get you off your feet for a few days. But since you're not used to riding, that would just cause new problems." He got up and went for Lambert's bags, digging in them without so much as asking and paying no mind to Lambert's sharp words of protest. He found the yarrow salve he was looking for — and grabbed the pot of lard while he was at it — and opened it up. "This human safe?" he asked as he took a deep sniff. "Smells like it." He returned to the boy. "This might sting a little." With as much care as he'd touched the boy before, he gently covered them in the salve and then loosely bandaged them up. "That should help it heal up quicker, and we'll get you boots as soon as we can." Moving back to his spot, he leaned close to Lambert, who was tossing the last of the chopped carrot and parsnip back to the cloth, and wiped his hands on Lambert's tunic.
"I'm gonna kill you," Lambert growled. He snatched up the small terracotta pot of lard. "You owe me a clean shirt."
Aiden smirked. "Do I? Are you gonna make me?" He practically purred at Lambert's side, his hand resting just above Lambert's hip, and his pupils dilated slightly at the short spike of lust from his lover.
"Get off me." Lambert shoved him playfully. "Tease," he muttered so quietly only Aiden's ears would hear. He stood abruptly, almost tipping Aiden over, and dumped a dollop of lard into the pot, wiping his fingers clean on his shirt since it was already a mess. Then he signed Igni to start the fire and heat up their pot for cooking.
Dari gasped and scrambled away from the sudden display of magic, tripping over his feet in his haste to get away. He fell back until he hit a tree, breath coming in great trembling gasps. His lungs tightened. "Magic?" He yanked his terrified gaze from the fire and to Aiden's face, suddenly right in front of him. He reared back instinctively, and his head smacked against a tree. "You have magic? You're a mage?" His galloping heart leapt into his throat.
Aiden held his hands palms out to show he meant no harm, and he slowly took a step back before crouching down. "Yeah, it's magic." He winced as Dariush's heartbeat intensified its already painfully fast and erratic pace. "But we're not mages," he hurried to assure. "Witchers have what we call Signs. It's small, limited bits of magic — mages can't do them, only witchers. We're not mages. We hate mages."
Dari blinked, and everything stood still. "What? You hate mages?"
"That's right." Aiden nodded and made his limbs look loose and non-threatening. "Mages made witchers. It's not a very nice process, and the mages weren't very nice people. Seems like you know that."
A beat passed between them, then Dari slowly nodded. "But… if it's magic, how are you not mages?"
"Like I said," Aiden said in the soothing tone he'd heard mothers use on their children when calming them after the terrible ordeal of seeing a witcher in their market, "it's very limited magic. Do you want me to tell you all the Signs witchers can do? We can't do any magic other than Signs. There's that one you saw. It's called Igni. It makes fire. Since we're all lazy, we use it to build fires, rather than using a flint." He smiled at the boy, relieved that this was dispelling the stench of terror. He heard Lambert leave, as the source of fear, to make himself scarce, and to fill up their drinking skins. He slowly told Dariush about all of the other signs and what they did, though he left out Axii. The boy didn't need to know that one, not right now, if ever. If he feared a mage's power, he'd fear a witcher's Sign that could control his mind, no matter how limited it may be. At the end, Dariush's fear drained from him, replaced by curiosity, Aiden demonstrated Quen, grinning at Dariush's awed wonder. He dropped the sign as Lambert returned. "See? It's not so bad."
Dari nodded. "No. Witchers are not mages. I should have remembered that." He liked witchers, unlike mages who had very few redeeming qualities. He went to Lambert and bowed to him. "I am sorry, master. I was simply startled. I did not realise that witchers had a magic of their own."
Lambert jerked his head. "Don't worry about it, kid. Sorry for scaring you, I guess. Just sit down and get off those feet."
"Yes, sir." Dari took up the spot he'd vacated, as did Aiden, and he laid back with his eyes closed, drifting off to a light doze to the sound of Lambert and Aiden's murmured conversation while they cooked dinner. His name being called roused him, and the smell of the stew had his stomach grumbling loudly. He blushed as he pressed a hand to it, willing it to be quiet, and he thanked Aiden when he was passed a bowl. He slurped his meal straight from the bowl and had finished his portion before either witcher had finished theirs. He smacked his lips and before he could finish wishing for just a little more, the bowl had been taken from him, refilled, and given back. He blinked - were witchers psychic? - thanked them again, and tossed them considering looks any time he thought they weren't watching.
When they were all done, he wasn't even asked to do the washing up or ensuring the remains from the butchering were covered so as not to attract unwanted company, which Dari thought suspicious. Instead, he waited where he was while Lambert washed both his tunic and everything they'd used to cook and eat and Aiden banked the fire for the night. He shivered a little in the cool night air, the sun having set beneath the horizon while they'd been eating, and he retrieved his blanket from his bag and wrapped it around himself. He yawned, only covering his mouth when the witcher looked at him.
"Tired?" Aiden asked. "Why don't you go make up your bed and get some sleep? We'll leave early, and you've already had a long day."
"Yes, sir," Dari replied. He felt like an old man as he got to his feet, and he bowed to both masters before finding a spot nearby and laying down. He curled up around his bag.
Aiden's eyebrow rose. "Where's your bedroll?" He caught the look on the boy's face. "Don't say you don't have one." Dari's mouth shut, and he looked a little pointedly at Master Aiden. Aiden almost groaned. "Who was your master? Was he even qualified to dress himself let alone take care of a child?"
"I helped dress the master," Dari replied, "and I am not a child. I am fine on the ground, as I have been. Sir."
"Absolutely not," Aiden said. "Lamb, give him your bedroll." Lambert was about to whine, so Aiden waggled his eyebrows. "Come on. We can share. It'll be cozy." Lambert groaned, but he went to the pair of bedrolls and snatched his up, then tossed it to Dariush. It landed over the boy in a heap, and even with his face covered, Aiden could tell the boy wasn't impressed. He laughed. "The two of you are a pair. Get in there, Dariush, no complaining. And you. No complaining from you, either, you big pup. Let's go to sleep." He opened his arms, and Lambert fell into them easily. They went to their remaining bedroll as Dariush snuggled into his borrowed one, and soon they were asleep in each other's embrace.