The Longest Road, Part 17


While it's tempting to take more aggressive action, you resist the urge. Just because you've only seen her using a crossbow so far doesn't mean she might not be deadly without it, and if she is, charging in despite your own lack of combat skills could end up being fatal overconfidence. Talking to her is also tempting... but revealing that you're onto her would surrender a significant advantage, one you're not willing to give up yet.

Accordingly, you fade back into the trees, withdrawing before the young assassin notices your presence. You've accomplished what you set out to do, learning more about the killer dogging your footsteps, and you don't intend to risk that progress. You jog back toward Eckenburg, arriving as evening is starting to fall.

Inquiring around town, you try to learn where Khaytala has gone. You'd previously intended to give her privacy for as long as she wanted to think... but you're certain that she'd want to hear about this new development immediately. After talking with a few people who saw her head off and who know the area, you set out at a brisk pace.

As it turns out, she hasn't gone far. You find her sitting in a small gully, looking out across a gently flowing little brook as she watches the sun set. Her expression in that moment in more unguarded than you've ever seen it. Not the steely resolve and decisive confidence she exudes when everyone is depending on her... but rather a worried, uncertain confusion.

You wince. You hadn't been making any particular effort to be stealthy, but it's clear that she's so lost in thought that she hasn't noticed you. Rather than embarrass her by alerting her now, you quietly back away. Then you approach again, calling out her name this time to make sure you're heard a long way off. "Khaytala? Khaytala, are you out there? I'm sorry to bother you, but... there's something I really need to show you."

There's a scuffling from the gully, and then Khaytala comes into view, in control of herself and ready to go. "Don't worry about it, Talavar," she says. " I was just... it doesn't matter. What did you want me to look at?"

"I noticed one of the visitors to Eckenburg acting strangely," you explain. "A girl. Probably about fifteen or sixteen years old, with red hair and freckles?"

Khaytala nods. "I remember seeing her. What was she doing?"

"Asking some suspicious questions of the caravan workers," you say. "Nothing conclusive... but I followed her for bit. Just to be safe. And I saw her tie this to the underside of one of the wagons." You offer Khaytala the pouch.

Frowning, Khaytala opens it. Immediately her eyes widen. "Damn," she says. "That's... a lot of corpse weed."

"Is it dangerous?" you ask. "Poisonous? Flammable?"

Khaytala shakes her head. "No. It's perfectly safe... almost everywhere on the continent. But we're about to cross the Burn. And the blight shamblers can smell this stuff from a long way off. If we'd gone through there carrying this much, we'd have been swarmed by just about every shambler in the whole damn place."

You can tell by the look on her face that it's not a thought she relishes. It doesn't sound very fun to you, either. "Well, that explains why she left it there," you say. "It was her second try. I followed her after she planted it, back to her horse, and I saw the gear she had on it. She's the assassin."

Khaytala just keeps staring down at the deadly pouch. "This is a lot more than just a crossbow shot, Talavar," she says quietly. "If you hadn't caught this... and if we guards didn't manage to hold the line... those things would have wiped out the entire caravan. If she really is after me, I'm putting them all in danger by being here."

"We still don't know that," you remind her. "I wasn't able to figure out anything about why she's doing this. She could be after something else, and she just started by targeting you because you were the biggest obstacle in her way. You might be the only thing protecting them from what she'd do if you were gone."

"Mmmm. Maybe." Khaytala doesn't look convinced. Then she sighs. "Anyway, if she's counting on the shamblers to take us out then we should be safe for a while, until she figures out we're onto her plan and comes up with a new one. At the very least, I'll stay with the caravan through the Burn. That's still the most dangerous part of the trip—corpse weed or no—and they'll need all the guards they can get. After that... after that I don't know."

This isn't ideal; if she does break away from the caravan, she'll be much more exposed herself. Still, at least now that she knows your secret—even if she hasn't yet admitted that she knows—the excuse you come up with for ditching the caravan to follow her won't need to be quite so plausible.

You place a hand on her shoulder. "I understand. But whatever you decide... if you're willing to let me... I want to keep doing what I can to back you up. You don't have to fight this alone."

Khaytala gives a wry chuckle, probably at the irony of her enemy's agent being the only one to give her such a reassurance. But she smiles back, and it looks to you as though she took some genuine consolation from it. "Thanks, Talavar," she says. "Don't know what I would have done without you."

You give her shoulder a squeeze, then turn and head back toward the village, leaving Khaytala again to her thoughts. Night has almost fallen, and villagers and caravaneers alike are preparing for bed.

You're not ravenously hungry... but it has been a while since you ate, and the exertion of your long run to reach the grove while remaining out of sight did drain your reserves more than you'd like. And the village allows for a great deal more privacy and cover than the open road as well, while potential prey walk back and forth from the village to the caravan camp in the growing dark.

It would be a shame to waste such a perfect chance to feed.

Greta, of course, would be the easiest and the safest. You could take her somewhere out of sight, and continue teaching her the art of sexual pleasure, of which she is proving an apt study. You haven't checked in with her in a while to see how she's doing, and she would probably appreciate the attention.

On the other hand, if you want to sample one of the local delicacies instead, there are a few that you noticed. When you were observing the scarred man in the tavern, you noticed that the tavern keeper—a busty woman with short black hair wearing a dress and low-cut blouse—was giving you a few enticing looks. She seemed rather more uninhibited than most of her neighbors, and you doubt she'd have any objection to sharing a bed with one of the saviors of her village.

You also noticed a quiet woman, probably in her mid-thirties with wavy brown hair, who emerged from the town hall, after the orcs had fled. Her home was on the edge of town, and it was one of the houses set alight by the orcs. You were among the people who helped to put it out, and in the process, you learned that she was a widow. Her husband had died a few years back, leaving her alone, with no children or family in the area. She seemed very grateful for all your help... but also slightly nervous around you, her eyes often glancing involuntarily to your horns.

You're not limited to just them, of course. The night is falling, and the opportunities feel endless. Those are the first three that come to mind, though.