At least it was a clear night. The moon was near-full and the cloud-cover had drifted away over the afternoon, so Gregor could find his way around without stumbling into a tree on accident. It wasn't nearly as muggy as it had been on some of the nights of the trip, either, though that was probably because of the change in elevation. On the whole, Libra couldn't have picked a nicer night to have a psychotic breakdown.
Gregor trod steadily through the underbrush. He wasn't exactly lingering to appreciate the scenery, but neither did he feel the need to sprint as fast as he could. With a bit of thought, it was easy enough to figure out where Libra was going, and Gregor knew that he could get there faster than him. Mainly because he had far more experience trekking across the wilderness, but also because he wasn't trying to make the journey in a dress.
He paused, and looked around. There was a small clearing here, intersected by both a small stream and a rough dirt path. This was probably a good place. All of the obvious routes to the pass north of here would filter through or near here. If somebody was heading that way, perhaps on some asinine quest to prove a point to themselves, they would pass through here at some point. The only real alternative would be to cut north, which would involve a valuable but brief education on rock climbing.
Gregor sat on a rock, and waited.
Surprisingly, he didn't have to wait long. It was only a few minutes before he could hear Libra crashing through the undergrowth, steadily getting closer to the clearing. Apparently you could make good time through these woods if you just dragged most of the woods with you.
Libra stepped into the clearing, too preoccupied with disentangling himself from the latest bush that had snagged his clothing to notice Gregor in front of him. Gregor stood up, wondering what to say for a start. Though he was still never quite sure of his choice in words, he was still rather certain there was no concise salutary greeting that encompassed "I am glad to see you but think you should consider your current course of action and incidentally have you noticed there is a rather large twig stuck in your hair?"
"Hello," he said eventually, deciding that the rest would have to carry via tone of voice.
Libra looked up with a start, reaching for his axe with the hand that wasn't pulling on a thorny vine. He relaxed when he saw Gregor. That was still an unusual experience.
"Oh. Hello, Gregor," Libra said, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "How are you?"
"Tired," Gregor said.
"Oh. Well, I'm sorry that I woke you, but if you came to being me back to camp, I'm afraid I can't come with you. I have to-"
"You go to find bandit camp," Gregor said. "Gregor is walking many steps in ahead of you."
"Well... yes," Libra said. "How did you-"
"Because you walk away from caravan camp in dead of night towards direction scouts say deserter bandit camp is probably. Is not hard math problem."
"I suppose," Libra said, staring at the ground. He sighed, and then looked Gregor in the eye. "So do you understand why I have to do this?"
"Because priest said unkind things and you have skin of paper," Gregor said. "So now you intend to prove point to self in most self-destructive way possible. And also make Gregor explain to others why monk charge into woods in middle of night and never return."
Libra sighed. He sat down on a log, and fingered the handle of his axe. "Gregor," he said after a moment. "I know that I'm acting in selfishness and stupidity. I cannot give you any reasonable excuse for my behavior. But I'm not going to stop." He looked up again, examined Gregor's expression, and paused reflectively. "Gregor. What exactly do you think I plan on doing?"
"Charge into camp in berserker rage. Prove you are worth something on battlefield by being great defender all by self. Go back to village and show priest what great job you do," Gregor said. It was the standard hero-fantasy rationalization, universal to amateur soldiers all over the world. Anywhere you found a corpse with fifty arrow shafts sticking out of its face, you had found the last station on this train of thought.
Libra looked shocked. "What? No!" he said, wide-eyed. "I'm going to talk to them."
Gregor stared blankly, and then goggled. "Talk?" he said incredulously. He had expected stupid, even delusional, but he had never thought that this could go all the way into pacifism.
"Yes," Libra said firmly. "I'm going to go to the camp and talk to the bandits. Try to negotiate before the army moves in. Try to..." His voice faltered. "Try to work with something other than my axe."
Gregor sighed. This was all something new. Why in the name of the gods did people ever recruit from the clergy? "So you walk in, say 'Hello I am monk here to kill you, all stop fighting please?' And then all the arrows in body serve as convenient carrying handles for Gregor to haul you back."
"It has to be worth a shot," Libra said firmly.
"No it doesn't," Gregor pointed out.
"Look, by this point the bandits must have found out, or been told, that we've sent a force in to defend the village and hunt them down," Libra said. "These men have been living in these hills for months now, with only what resources they can scavenge through banditry. They are surely tired, hungry, and no doubt afraid of being set upon by a well-supplied force twice the size of their band. But the commander of the expedition is treating this as a purely tactical problem. He's going to fight before he even considers negotiating. I think there's a slim hope this can be settled without cause of bloodshed, and I can't in good conscience abandon that hope."
Gregor gawped. "So you are thinking you will-"
"Walk into the camp, tell them that if they turn themselves in we'll give them fresh food and more lenient sentences, and bring them all back to the caravan by dawn," Libra said. "I know how absolutely stupid I sound. And I'm not going to stop."
"Indeed stupid," Gregor said, nodding. He looked up at the sky, and thought for a moment. "You are certain?"
"Quite."
"Fine," Gregor said. "Against better judgement, Gregor will accompany."
"I've told you enough, I'm not going to let you bring me back to the caravan. You're not going to convince me."
"Gregor will not try," Gregor said. "He only wants to see outcome, and help you retreat when arrows start journey towards face."
"Fine," Libra said. "But like I said, I'm not going to leave until-"
With a sigh, Gregor crouched slightly, hooked one arm under Libra's legs and the other under an armpit, and hoisted him over his head like a sack of grain. "If Gregor wanted to bring you back to caravan, we would go back to caravan," he said over Libra's yelp of surprise. "We will do stupid plan for now."
