Chapter 8: Bree-lands.
Lucina's eyes fluttered open. Light was streaming in from the window above her, illuminating the dusty room.
'Morning,' she thought, 'looks like I fell asleep.'
She attempted to stir, but the consequences of her long march with little rest and food made themselves known. Waves of dull pain coursed through every sore muscle and joint. Pangs of hunger made her wince. Her back felt bruised and wearied, and her legs burned the greatest. With a huff, she moved, sore muscles protesting, and rose up and out of bed.
She donned her clothes with a pained expression, and finally fixed her mask to her face. Redoing her braid took far more effort, with her sore arms aching from being held in such an awkward position.
Her braid was now secured, and she cast open the window above her bed, taking a deep breath of the fresh and cool air. It was cold today, colder than yesterday. She wished she could crawl back underneath the warm covers, but there was little time to tarry. Judging by the sun's position in the sky, it seemed to be fast approaching noon.
Strange as though it was for her to sleep this long, she'd not known herself to be slothful. Though she supposed her exhaustion from the past few months had finally caught up with her. She'd gotten a full night's rest too, the first in a long while. No doubt due to sleeping on an actual bed for once.
She almost lamented having to abandon this respite of comfort for the cold, hard, dirt in the coming days. Yet she knew it was better to weather herself against these minor hardships, as a preparation for the greater hardships that were yet to come.
She closed the window of her room and marched swiftly out the door, the solid wood closing behind her.
Lucina came at last to the common room. Empty, as expected. Much too early for merrymaking. With a quick glance around the room she spotted Butterbur leaning against the counter looking deeply troubled.
"Good day, Mr. Butterbur," she said, approaching him. The sudden sound of her voice seemed to startle him as he all but jumped from his skin. Then recognition dawned on him, and he broke out into a smile.
"Master Marth!" came his joyous voice as he addressed her with his arms open wide. "Worried me sick, you did! You didn't come down last night, so I had Nob check up on you, but you didn't answer. Begging your pardon, young master, but you came in here last evening all frail-looking. Why, I feared the worst!"
Lucina frowned, feeling no less than guilty. She hadn't meant to worry the good fellow. Though she wouldn't call herself frail, even if she was quite thin when compared to the Bree-landers. The scarcity of food in the future had simply taken its toll on her as it did with any other.
"My apologies, Mr. Butterbur. My journey was quite exhaustive. But I don't feel like I'll drop dead anytime soon."
"That's a relief!" he said. "Well, you ought to be hungry, I reckon. You missed supper after all. Sit down and I'll see what I can find for you."
He directed her to the common room, and she sat herself in the corner at one of the tables beside the window. A cup and pitcher of water stood on the table, and she helped herself to the cool and refreshing well-water.
The curtains beside her were drawn open, letting light from the noontime sun stream into the inn. Lucina stared outside the glazed window, idly drumming her fingers on the table as her mind started to wander.
'What am I to do today?' she wondered, 'where will I go?'
Finding her way home was the obvious choice. Though easier said than done, as Ylisse was almost certainly a great distance away. Perhaps even a whole continent. She would need to see a map to be certain, and finding one was her first task today.
The immediate problem of this journey however, was time. Such a grand undertaking would take her far too long. Especially when considering that in just a few short months her Aunt would be assassinated. Yet here she was half a world away lounging in an inn, and if she wasn't there to warn them…
Her fingers started to beat the table faster.
Everyday she tarried would be one step closer to her doomed future, and countless questions and worries wracked her mind.
How was she to get home? And how long would such a journey take her? If the journey could be made at all, did the folk on this continent even know of others existing?
She glanced back, searching for any signs of the innkeeper, her knee bouncing impatiently underneath the table.
And her friends, where were her friends? There was no possible way for her to know if they'd arrived somewhere on this continent, or if they'd even arrived at all.
She did not know whether to stay and search a while, or to simply leave without them. This mission was too grand to tarry behind for them. Surely they could manage themselves for a while. Though they'd helped her get here in the first place. What sort of leader would she be to leave them all behind?
Lucina took a breath in and out, trying to calm down a bit. It wouldn't be any good to think herself into anxiety.
"One step at a time," she whispered.
Her thoughts turned again to her friends. She hoped that, wherever they ended up, they were safe. Most of all her sister. Cynthia was still so young, and still so rash.
'Stay out of trouble, Cynthia. I'll find you soon.'
In her musings, she failed to notice someone had wandered over and stood at her table. They gave a faint knock on the wood to grab her attention, and Lucina turned to see a rather shady-looking man with black brows and dark, scornful, eyes. He wouldn't look directly at her, instead he kept a wary eye over his shoulder.
"Good day," she said. She kept her tone neutral despite wanting nothing to do with this man and whatever dubious intentions he had. Though the man said nothing as he pulled a short, black, pipe from his pocket and, to Lucina's displeasure, took a seat right across from her.
"Saw you arrived last evenin' from the west gate," he finally said.
He then produced a small pouch from his pocket and began shaking the contents into the bowl of his pipe. It was some sort of dried herb from what she could see.
"I did, what of it?" she replied.
He lit up his pipe and took a series of short puffs. Her nose crinkled up in disgust at the unpleasant smell of the herb, like burning woodland. However the man didn't seem to notice her visible discomfort. Or rather he didn't seem to care.
"Did you pass through the Shire on your way here?" he asked in a casual tone.
Lucina blinked, "I'm sorry, Shire?"
"Aye, west of Bree."
"Then I'm afraid not. I came from the south, I think."
He gave her an odd look, "South? You must've come up the Greenway then."
She could only assume the Greenway meant that grass grown road she'd travelled on. A fitting name, she noted. "Yes, I believe so."
The man however was silent for a brief moment.
"Nobody comes up the Greenway no more," he said, "not unless you're some unsavoury type." He then leaned towards her, lowering his voice to almost a whisper, "you don't take up with them Rangers, do you?"
"What? No, I don't even know what—"
"—Well then, what are you here for?" he cut in.
Lucina clenched her fists underneath the table, irritation growing steady. She understood that she was a stranger here, but she certainly did not deserve to be interrogated so early in the day. Though she tried not to get riled up.
"I'm just passing through, I'll be gone sometime today," she told him.
"Aye? And where off to?"
"I believe that is my own business."
"Fair enough," he said, taking another puff. "But since you've been on the Greenway, maybe you've seen a friend of mine." He stopped, and spied all around him with a wary eye, before saying in a low voice, "he's a hobbit from the Shire, goes by the name of Baggins."
Lucina hesitated for a moment before speaking, "I'm sorry, but I saw no one."
The man raised an eyebrow, seeming unconvinced. "You sure of that? There weren't no hobbits going about on the road?" he asked again.
"Quite sure, and I don't know what a Hobbit even is."
The man nodded, silent for a brief moment as he smoked his pipe.
"So, you're off today, are you?" he spoke again.
"Yes, as I've told you."
"Aye, but I hear you're lost, as old Goatleaf at the West Gate said to us. Ain't going to be travelling much, that I know."
Lucina's brows furrowed. 'Goatleaf' must have been that gatekeeper's name. She knew he was no good, and now he'd gone off and told people about their conversation, likely not sparing any details. 'I should have lied,' she thought.
"It's true, I am lost. I was hoping to ask someone for directions before I set off today."
The man took a slow draw from the pipe, billowing smoke in a thick cloud. "You'll need a well travelled fellow, no doubt," he said.
"Indeed…do you by any chance know the routes yourself?" she asked.
He spat on the floor, "Pah! Do I look like the travelling sort to you, boy?"
Lucina rolled her eyes. Now he was being deliberately obtuse, she could tell. "Well, I don't know you, nor your profession."
"Aye you don't." A wry smile then formed on his lips, "but for two silver pennies I can get you information on any road you fancy. Might even find you a map."
Lucina frowned. She didn't quite know the value of a silver penny, but she somehow guessed she was being swindled of her coin.
"I'll pass."
"You sure of that? I know a fellow in Combe, he's a merchant. Goes here and there, he says. Trades with all sorts of folk and has all sorts of maps. He ought to know of Ylisse."
Lucina tensed at the name-drop of her homeland. The fact that a man like this knew so much had her internally cursing that Gatekeeper once more.
"I thank you for this offer, but I will have to decline," she said.
He looked like he was about to say more, but glanced at something over her shoulder, and simply shrugged.
"Suit yourself," he said. He then dumped the contents of his pipe into the pitcher of water on her table, that she very much wasn't finished with, and rose up from the bench. He walked away without another word, sneering and mumbling to himself as he did.
Lucina stared after him, annoyed and somewhat confused. 'That was…weird.'
She wondered who he was, and why he'd asked her about 'Hobbits', whatever that was. She couldn't help but get an odd feeling from him, as this man appeared strange even for Bree-folk. She'd have to ask Butterbur about him later. Should he ever show up again.
Conveniently, Butterbur was already in the room, holding a plate in one hand, and a bowl in the other. Butterbur's brows were furrowed as he watched the shady man leave. He stayed still for a moment, eyeing the door in which the man left from, before approaching Lucina.
"What was that Bill Ferny wanting with you?" asked Butterbur firmly.
"I–don't know to be honest. I suspect he was trying to bargain with me. He offered to find me directions for two silver pennies," she replied, taking a mental note of the name Bill Ferny.
"Bah! Two pence for that? Why, if he wasn't cheating you, then I'm a hobbit!"
That last remark caught her attention. There was that word again. Hobbit. From what she could tell, they seemed to be people that lived outside Bree in this 'Shire'. Folk of a different nation, she deemed. But whatever this Shire was, be it a kingdom or a free land, she could not say. The gatekeeper after all had said there were no kingdoms.
"Who are they? Hobbits I mean," she asked.
"Hobbits?" He questioned in a surprised voice, "you don't know what hobbits are? You must've seen a few when you came by. Round bellies, rosy cheeks and curly hair, walking about with no shoes on their feet? Why, you've met Nob haven't you? He's a hobbit!"
Lucina nodded, "The short fellow, yes I remember him."
"Short he is for us big folk but amongst his own he's as tall as they come!" said Butterbur, surprising Lucina at the implication.
"You mean they're—all that small?"
"Indeed they are. I forgot to mention that, the most important part, I reckon. Little folk, we sometimes call them, and they call us the Big Folk. They're a good lot, not bothering no one and no one bothers them."
Lucina nodded at the new found information. She'd definitely not expected hobbits to mean a race of little people. Which only solidified the fact that this was not Valm nor Ylisse.
'Little folk, they call them,' she thought in her mind, the term being familiar to her, 'Those bandits had mentioned little folk. What business did they have with them?'
She briefly wanted to ask about that 'Baggins' Ferny spoke of, but dismissed it. They didn't seem all that important to her. More likely it was just some scoundrel like Ferny, if being friends with him was anything to go by.
"He also mentioned he knew a merchant in Combe that was well travelled. Said I could find a map from him. Do you know anyone like that?" she then asked, as the merchant piqued her interest far more. She doubted that he had any knowledge of Ylisse, but it was a chance she wouldn't pass up.
Butterbur looked away, stroking his chin in a thoughtful manner. "A merchant from Combe, eh? Only travelling fellow I know is Edd Willowdale. But he's a good man, he'd not associate with no good Ferny." Butterbur shook his head, "I don't rightly trust him, that Bill Ferny. Always trying to make a profit, he is. If I were you I'd stay far away from the likes of him, and don't buy anything from him neither! Why, he once charged Mr. Thistlewool five silver pennies for a sickly pony!"
Lucina nodded. Though she wasn't planning on doing business or even talking to Bill Ferny ever again, she was grateful to at least have the knowledge of any devious persons in town.
The Innkeeper's demeanour then shifted completely back to his regular joyful self, as if forgetting all about what had just happened.
"Here you are, fresh from the kitchens," he said as he set down the plate in front of her.
Lucina looked at the plate, stunned into silence. To any it was just simple fare; only a bowl of hot soup and half a fresh loaf of bread still soft and steaming. But to her, after a year and a half of eating nothing but roots, lizards, and berries, the meal before her seemed fit for a king.
Butterbur seemed to notice her hesitation. "Is it not to your liking?" he asked, the smallest hint of sadness in his voice.
"N-no no! It's quite generous in fact! Should I pay you for this?"
"Pay? There's no need for that, everyone has a right to a meal when they stay in my inn. Compliments of my house."
Lucina was stunned once again. 'He gives this food to just anybody?' she thought. Then again, this was the past. Of course food would be plentiful and wouldn't cost so much. Another one of the stark differences that astonished her.
"I see, well, you have my thanks regardless," she said, a little embarrassed by her silly question.
"It was my pleasure. Now, eat up! A young lad like yourself needs food to grow strong." He then made an exaggerated motion of flexing his arms.
She smiled and almost chuckled at that. 'I don't think I'll be doing much growing anymore,' she wanted to say.
"Would you be wanting anything to drink other than water? Some ale maybe? Or would you prefer a nice, hot, cup of tea this morning?"
"I think tea would suit, thank you," she answered.
Lucina watched as Butterbur hurried off, hollering for Nob as he did. Lucina would admit that she was becoming rather fond of that man. A little bit of an odd fellow, and quite talkative, but he seemed to be overall welcoming in nature.
She picked up the wooden spoon and tried the soup first, sipping the hot liquid gently. Upon tasting it, Lucina almost melted. It was rich with flavours she'd long forgotten, filling her mouth with a warm sensation, a pleasant tingle on her tongue. Not too salty, which she always preferred, with only a hint of bitterness from the root vegetables. It had been lightened up by the additions of some herbs — of which only dill she could recognize. There were chunks of white meat in it as well, chicken most likely, which was finely boiled. The best part about it was that it was warm and hearty. Her body, starved from nourishment, desperately needed it.
She then moved on to the bread, tearing it apart with ease. As she bit into the soft and warm crust, her eyes closed in bliss. Being so used to bread that was hard and stale, she'd forgotten what real bread tasted like. Lucina sighed contentedly, savouring every bite.
Soon enough however, she came to her senses. Lucina knew that after so long with so little to eat, it would make her terribly ill to even finish her plate. She'd witnessed many villagers – who'd been starved for weeks on end – die after eating their first full meal. Reluctantly, Lucina pushed the plate aside.
Not long after Butterbur came back round with her tea. He looked down at her unfinished plate and frowned. Lucina apologised and assured him that the food was good, she just didn't have the stomach to eat so much right now.
Accepting that answer, the innkeeper placed a hot cup of tea in front of her. A warm and enticing aroma rose up from the tea, brightening her mood substantially. She said her thanks to the innkeeper, and he was off again.
Taking the warm cup of tea into her hands, she slowly sipped the hot drink. The bitterness of the brew surprised her a little, but it was otherwise delicious. She took another sip, savouring the warmth of the drink this time.
It was quite pleasant, she felt, idly sitting in the warm inn. Some other patrons had come too, likely guests of the inn, but they remained quiet, with only the crackling of the hearth filling the room with any noise. She could not help but slip away into her own mind.
Yet she was quick to remember her duty. She knew she could not enjoy this world now. It would be unwise, selfish even, to tarry here in this inn while the threat of Grima lingered. She quickly drained the rest of the tea and stood from her seat.
"Excuse me, young master," a timid voice from behind her said. Lucina looked over to see that hobbit assistant, Nob, standing by her table. "Will you be staying with us for another night? Or would you like your horse to be readied?"
"My horse, please. Thank you, Nob."
"Right then, I'll let Bob know to saddle your horse, head on out front when you're ready." With no time wasted, Nob hurried off out the door.
Lucina readied the straps of her steed's saddle. The task had been taken from Bob, another hobbit she'd found out, as the fellow seemed to be swamped with work already, and she'd pitied him. The air outside nipped at her. The stray breeze made her shiver, but it had warmed up since the morning.
Overall, she felt her stay had been quite pleasant. The food was good, as well as the service, and the landlord set a fair price. She only needed to pay him but a farthing of one of those silver coins she'd taken from the bandits.
The saddle was now secured. Lucina took the time to brush her hand along the horse's long face. It nuzzled her back gently.
"I wonder what I'll name you," she said softly. The horse huffed under her touch. He needed a good name, she thought. Something that was short, quick to say, and would reflect strength. After all, he was likely going to be her travelling companion for quite some time.
At length she stood pondering over many options until someone hollering her false caught her attention. She turned to see Butterbur approaching her, a small bundle of cloth in his hand.
"I've come to see you off," he said upon reaching her. "I hope you've enjoyed your stay here at my house."
"You were a most generous host, thank you Mr. Butterbur," she replied with a bow.
He laughed. "Such fine manners you have! You're most welcome, my lad. I hope to host you again."
Though his smile soon faded as he looked at her silently, the troubled look that she'd seen on him earlier had returned.
"Say, on the road yesterday," he finally breathed out, "did you by any chance encounter any...odd fellows and the like?" His words seemed hesitant, as if he didn't really want an answer, but was curious nonetheless.
"Well—I did have a rather unsavoury encounter with outlaws a few days ago," she replied at length, but that was all she wanted to tell him. A clueless innkeeper that just wanted to make an honest living didn't need to know about the other terrors that lurked beyond the gates.
"Ruffians, eh—and that's it?"
She paused and eyed him curiously. "What do you mean?"
"Oh… it's nothing, forget I said anything," he said, grumbling a few more words. He was being uncharacteristically suspicious, she noted. To what he alluded to she couldn't say for sure, but she was starting to suspect that perhaps he did know what wandered in the west. It was nothing she wanted to discuss just yet. Not with him anyway.
"Well, I've got something for you," he said, attempting to change the subject. He then shoved the bundle of linen into her arms.
She unwrapped the thin cloth to see more bread, a few small apples that were fresh and unblemished, and a little pasty that seemed to be filled with meat.
"Thought you could have that for the road. No charge."
She smiled and thanked him again. Afterwards, she took the time to ask him again about Edd Willowdale, and where best to find him.
"He'll be in the markets today, and no doubt about it," he told her, "but if you miss him, he'll be in Combe. Pass the South Gate and travel eastwards."
She nodded, internalising the information. She then asked about Bree itself, and what lands lay around it. The Gatekeeper claiming there to be no kingdoms here both intrigued and worried her, but an innkeeper would probably know more.
"Well, to the west there's the Shire. But that's all hobbits, and they're not much for travel, why it's been a terribly long time since we've had Shire-folk stay with us!"
Butterbur then went on at length talking about the last time he'd seen Shire hobbits, and spoke of Tooks and Brandybucks, who were the only hobbit families that had any courage to venture beyond the Shire to Bree. Though they seldom did in these days. He told her where they went, and how far they'd go into the Bree-lands. Afterwards moving on to talk about the Bree and Shire hobbits, and what they thought of each other. Lucina nodded along, uncaring of this topic but was too polite to stop him.
The most important things she gleaned from his rambling was that Bree existed as the chief of four villages, all arranged around the aptly named Bree-hill. Staddle was up further, burrowing into Bree-hill itself, whose only inhabitants were hobbits. Combe was on the other side of the hill, and Archet was further eastwards, near the Chetwood.
"Er—Mr. Butterbur," she said, interjecting into his speech, "Would you perhaps know of any other lands besides the Shire and the four villages?"
"Oh, well… I don't quite know actually," he said. "They say the lands are empty with not a soul for miles, filled with ruins and the like. North is haunted lands I hear, going up around Deadman's Dike. But I know if you go far enough south down the Greenway, you'll find some southerners."
Lucina furrowed her brow. Heading north was completely off the table, while heading south seemed a likely option. However that meant travelling down the Greenway, and she still remembered what evils still lurked.
She thanked him regardless and mounted her horse, gently running her hand along the familiar brown mane of her steed. With a quick wave goodbye she started her horse forward, under the archway and out onto the streets.
Her steed's hooves clopped along stone-led paths of Bree, passing people going to and fro on business of their own. Some loitered around, the majority smoking from those wooden pipes. It was such a strange habit of the Bree-folk, she mused; puffing from the end of these wooden carved objects; billowing smoke from their mouths like chimneys. She couldn't understand what sort of enjoyment they got from it, if there was any to be had at all. It just made her want to retch.
The Bree-folk spared odd glances and gossiping whispers when she passed, nothing she hadn't been subject to already. Despite that, they seemed rather lively, which she was wholly unused to. More smiles were seen on the faces of the Bree-folk in just this short ride than she'd seen in an entire year in the future. And it warmed her heart greatly. There was nothing to be grim about for them, nothing yet.
When Lucina came to a wide street, she stopped and simply observed. A great many people were gathered; tents and stands were dotted all around. There were merchants selling their wares, and farmers selling fresh produce. This was likely where they held the market, she presumed. But as Lucina looked upon the great crowd and the many loud voices, she felt some apprehension.
'There's…so many people here.'
She took a deep breath in and out, then quickly tied her horse to the post, and with an unsteady resolve, entered the confining crowd. She awkwardly parsed through and almost bumped into people several times. She only barely registered that people watched her and whispered as she passed.
She'd asked about Edd Willowdale to any who would lend her their ear. Merchants and farmers mostly. Unfortunately all of them had the same answer: Edd Willowdale, who should have come to Bree today, did not. Lucina sighed, she'd have to just find him in Combe, it seemed. Asking directions from other merchants was also a fruitless endevour. No maps did they possess, and they only knew of the Bree-lands, the Shire, and some other lands that bore no meaning to her.
Her time here was wasted, it seemed. Not wanting to remain confined in this crowd, she moved swiftly to her steed, remounted, and was off again.
By direction from some helpful folk, she made her way down towards a gate located at the southern part of town. It was just a simple large wooden door on a hinge, big enough for a single cart to pass, and it was wide open.
By the gate sat a different gatekeeper; a much cheerier-looking man wearing a cloak and long sleeved tunic. Some ways behind him was a small dwelling that, while not being suitable for living in, worked well enough as a guard house to hide from poor weather.
He saw her, and they exchanged a friendly greeting.
"What hail, blue fellow! Where might ye be off to?" he exclaimed with a smile. Lucina already liked him more than the West-Gate gatekeeper.
"Combe, is this the way to it?"
"Aye, you're heading along the east road, to Staddle, and then keep going. Be mindful not to go too far eastward, lad."
She waved to him as she passed through the gate, "Thank you sir, I'll keep that in mind."
Lucina did not get far when she heard the gatekeeper call out for her again.
"One more thing, lad, if you please!"
Lucina halted and reared her horse around to look at him sideways. He now bore an expression on his face that Lucina found rather curious. He seemed troubled by something, his cheeriness having completely vanished.
"I don't know if you've heard," he spoke hesitantly, "but there was...strange men that rode through here this past morning, asking questions."
Lucina paused, hands tightening around the reins. "What kind of men?" she asked.
"Th-they was horsemen, you see, a-and…" He continued to stutter and fumble over his words. A fearful look came upon the gatekeeper's face then, and that told her all that she needed to know.
"You don't have to say, I already know what you speak of," she said. The gatekeeper seemed relieved not having to speak anymore.
"There's been queer happenings in these parts. Best keep your wits about you, my lad," he breathed out. She nodded, and turned her steed back round toward the road.
Another gust of wind blew against her as she looked upon the empty road. A sinking feeling began to grow in her stomach, but she gulped hard and simply continued forth. As her horse clopped against the dirt paths, she couldn't help but let her thoughts turn ill.
'Black Riders.'
The dark name appeared in her mind and she shuddered. They'd passed through Bree this morning without her even knowing. Striking terror on the good Bree-folk. It enraged her to think of all the poor souls that would have come across them, and how many would have suffered the 'black breath' ailment that sent her into an endless nightmare. It occurred to her that Butterbur had likely seen them too, and that's why he'd asked.
She could picture the good fellow now, shaking before the ghastly forms of the Black Riders. Perhaps they'd threatened him, drawn their swords against him, said they would kill him or burn down his house if he did not meet their demands. And it caused a burning anger to course through her. It was always the best of folk who suffered the greatest from the hands of evil.
Yet what could she do against them? The very thought of them made her quiver, how could she hope to take up arms? This feeling of being powerless left her feeling frusterated, and much like a caged animal. She had to figure something out before she left, something to help the Bree-folk. It wouldn't be right to leave them defenceless.
Lucina tried to pay these worries little mind, trotting along at a steady pace. She followed the road as it curved right for some miles around Bree-hill. On the low slopes to her left she saw small houses and burrows; she surmised that it was Staddle, as the homes seemed too small for any regular sized man.
The road then began to run swiftly downwards along the gentler slopes of Bree-hill. At last she saw, in a deep hollow away north of the road, wisps of gentle smoke rising high into the air. Farmsteads and fields lay around it, with a great many kine and other beasts grazing the green pastures.
'Combe, this must be,' she thought as she continued forward. 'I hope you're here, Edd.'
Evening had come again when Lucina returned to the South-Gate of Bree. Her time in Combe had been for naught. She'd found where Edd Willowdale lived, but he wasn't home. She instead found his brother, who didn't know where he'd gone. She'd waited around Combe the whole day, but Edd Willowdale had not returned. None seemed to know where he was or where he'd gone either. And so it was another day wasted.
Lucina sighed as she passed under the gate, she would just have to wait until tomorrow to find him. At least she could look forward to another night at The Pony.
A glance towards where the Gatekeeper would sit saw that he was not there. The little guardhouse up ahead was also unoccupied; the door was swinging open in the wind, and inside was dark.
Lucina quirked an eyebrow at the strange sight, but dismissed it for one reason or another.
As Lucina's steed walked slowly along the path leading away from the gate, she started to feel rather cold. A wind was picking up, stringing her hair across her face, and she pulled her cloak tighter around herself. But despite this discomfort, she continued onwards.
Feeling rather peckish, Lucina reached into her travelling bag to eat from the fare Butterbur had given her. The day of travelling, waiting, and travelling back proved hungry work, and she'd already eaten the bread and meat pasty. But she still had an apple left to munch on. She took out the small linen bundle, unwrapping the last apple. But as she went to place the cloth back in her bag, a hard breeze swept it from her hand.
"Damnit all," she muttered as she dismounted. If she could not return the cloth to Butterbur, than spare cloth on the road was a luxury she could not pass up.
The wind blew the linen cloth far up a side road, and finally was caught in the leaves of a shrubbery. As she plucked the cloth from the shrubs, she meant to return to her steed, but a sight far up the road made her halt immediately.
By the fading light in the evening sky, she was able to see a striking black horse was standing amongst some bushes and shrubs just up ahead, though rider-less. Beside was a run down and rather dilapidated house, a hedge partitioning it from the street.
Ill memories came flooding into Lucina's mind, and her fingers tightened hard around the linen cloth. She thought she knew that that horse; that bridle; that saddle. But she dismissed it with a shaking breath in and out; it was just a black horse that could've belonged to anyone, nothing more.
Though the sound of hushed voices coming from beyond the hedge made her pause again.
Whether by bravery, stupidity, curiosity, or perhaps all of them at once, she approached the worn down house up the road, the last house in Bree. Her steps were gentle and well placed, trying to make as little noise as possible.
At last she reached the house, and Lucina knelt down beside the hedge. She listened, and was just barely able to discern faint whispers from the wind.
"I-I-I don't know," she just barely was able to catch. The words came from a man muttering hastily, voice filled with fear. "There's been no news of him yet, sir. Honest!"
Peering through a little gap in the hedge, Lucina saw a man at his doorstep with his back faced towards her. The man appeared to be speaking to someone that was out of sight, but she could see the man was shaking like a leaf in a storm's wind. She couldn't see who the man was, but his voice had a familiarity to it.
A wind picked up, blowing against her ears, and it carried a deep chill that made her shiver. Within that wind she could just barely make out a thin voice, faint and steady, and rasping like the sweeping of dried leaves against a stone path. The words, she could not hear, but there was a sinister tone to the voice that made her skin crawl and hairs stand on end.
"Th-there's that fellow with the red eyes all glowing like," she heard another man say, a different voice that she did not recognize. Confused, Lucina peered into the yard again and saw two new shapes that she'd not seen before. One was large, and she could just barely see that he was a bald man. Another was thinner man and a little taller.
"He's wanting something else, I reckon...sir," the new voice continued. "Came up the lane last night, he did. Then he says to me..."
The rest she could not hear over the blowing of the wind and the rustling of the tree branches, much to her annoyance. But she was most intrigued.
'A fellow with glowing red eyes,' she repeated in her mind.
Suddenly, the talking ceased.
"Who goes there?!" a voice hollered, and Lucina's heart dropped. She leapt up and sprinted for her horse. Upon reaching it, she threw herself onto the back of her beast, not taking a second glance back as she galloped away from the scene; her heart hammering in her ears.
When at last she rounded a few corners, Lucina felt safe, and let her horse slow to a light trot. She looked around; panting hard, but it seemed no one was pursuing her.
Back there was no ordinary conversation, she knew. Whoever it was that those man spoke to, she could not say. Regardless, she felt it meant only ill tidings for Bree.