Morgan by Kiyomo | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil
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Chapter 6

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"Don't stop!" Artessa cried "Keep us going!" 

"Its morning already!" Morgan shouted in protest 

"I don't care whether its the new year, we need to keep going!" 

The Horse offered its input. It was ignored. 

"Look," She said "A sign. Small-fathers Inn. It says its only a day away." 

"We don't need to go to an inn. That'd be the first place they look." 

"I want to go to an Inn," She said "And you're my escort. Your job is to protect me as I travel, not make the decisions of where I go and what I do." 

"Listen here, I-" 

"No you listen, you're employed by me to do a job. I'm paying you well enough to do the damned thing, not to mention I just saved your life." 

"Saved my life?" 

"With the fire." She said, waving a hand. They slowed to a halt on the road. 

"You thought that was saving my life?" He asked "Honestly?" 

"It was, he was coming at you with a sword and everything." 

"Then what about all the times I've saved your life?" Morgan said "Those don't count?" 

"You were doing a job, nothing more." 

"I-" He didn't have an arguement for that. "So?" 

"So, it doesnt count." 

He groaned "You are, without a doubt, the worst person I have ever had the discomfort of traveling with." 

"Likewise." 

Gripping silence tightened around them as they sat atop the beast, who was currently catching its breathe and enjoying the feel of cool wood against its flanks. The luggage was still draped over the side of the horse like a rug, barely a foot thick but strung out from left leg to right. 

"So the Inn then?" He said.

"Please." 

 

 

Small-Fathers Inn was actually attached to a small town. Safela, though none of the occupants informed the pair of this and so neither actually knew where they were. They instead managed to make their way across the wood and dirt roads to the small town, following the signs for the Inn the whole way. Morgan and Artessa both made attempts at idle conversation but it amounted to little. 

"Welcome!" A portly man dressed in a fine tunic and breeches opened the door for them as they approached. Artessa, having retreaved the luggage and it having adopted its original form once more, had made her way towards the door first with Morgan following while holding the reins of the beast. 

"Thank you kindly." She said, stepping inside. 

"Do you have a place for the horse?" Morgan asked. The man smiled and looked the creature over, then pointed towards a half-enclosed stable. 

"Feel free to tie your horse up there." He said. "Then you can join us inside when you're done." 

"Don't take too long now, Morgan." Artessa cooed. 

Part of their cover had been the decision to pretend to be a couple, and it seemed that she was taking to the job far more aptly than he'd assumed. 

"I'll do my best." he muttered. 

Dark clouds had moved overhead through the day, covering the sky in the forboding sense that the gods themselves were trying to set a specific mood. They'd succeeded from the look of things. The sprinklings of early rain began to filter like gentle tears from above, coating the world in the strange technicolor of a soaked blanket. 

"Do my best." He muttered again. "Right. Thankfully you don't talk back." 

The horse said nothing. 

"See," He said "Perfect."

"Evening stranger." A voice called behind him. It rushed into the half enclosed stable with a nearly the limit to the capacity of the room. He looked hagerd and well run from a day of travel, strangely he felt a connection with the new man. 

"Long day, eh?" He asked, proffering his hand to help with the mounts. The man gratefully accepted and passed over a few. They housed the beasts, the creatures of the mans being largely well cared for. This was surprising, given only that the area that Small-Fathers Inn was located within, was a largely poor village where in a Horse or ScaleHound would have been the sight to behold for some distance around. 

"You don't know the half of it." The man groaned. "Been the longest damn day of my life." 

"You don't say." Morgan felt similar. "Morgan," 

"Vargos." Vargos said. They exchanged the traditional greeting of men in their 30's being mostly a quick handshake and otherwise no further physical contact. "Similar one yourself huh?"

"Oh, you said it." He said "Been traveling for some time now and today was nothing but hard riding." 

Vargos laughed. His face was done up with scars and looked rather unapealing considering all that there was too see. Still, Morgan kept the eye contact present. It was polite after all. 

"I'd wager we're in the same boat then." 

"Oh?" 

"Long day, and a longer one tomorrow." The man elbowed Morgans side and gave a knowing look. 

"Speaking truth to life. Or rather, truer words had never been spoken." 

"You by yourself?" He asked. 

"No, traveling with my partner." 

"Well, you two should join us."

"Us?" It was Morgans turn with the question. 

"My group. Theres a fair number of us, sure, but we'd happily welcome a few more. Not the bedding down of course." 

They laughed, though Morgan mostly out of awkwardness. He considered the offer, then without using any of that consideration, agreed. 

"Perfect!" Vargos perked up a bit. "We'll be delighted to have you, you'll be our guests." 

"Course, we'll all be guests of the Inn anyhow." 

"Too right! That too then, best way to travel through I'd say. Guest of a Guest." 

"Best way, huh?" Morgan repeated. "Well I'm sure she won't mind." 

"Excellent. We're just inside, most of them should be settling in. Ever been here before?" 

"Nah," He said "First time. You?" 

"Oh, the very same. I was hoping you'd have an idea of what the food would be like." 

"No, sadly I was worried of the very same thing." 

"Seems we'll just have to find out then." 

 

In truth, they needn't have worried. As luck, though fickle she may be at times, would have it, they managed to come across an Inn that was both well stocked on wines and ales, as well as handy with a chef that knew exactly their way around a kitchen. It was the sort of luck that travels would, in much saner times, nearly maime for. 

"Morgan, honey." Artessa fakely cooed. "Can I talk with you for a moment. Away from the table." 

They were sat amongst a dozen well garbed men of some apparent strength. Vargos had seemed to be the leader of the group, and though he remained cheerful and pleasant, he had soured considerably since Artessas arrival at the table. 

The pair stepped aside and away from the group, which were giving her darting glances and uneasy eyes. The owner, Walter, had designed the Inn to be a rather large building with several stories and a great hall for feasting. They were all seated there now, the group of travelers and a few other guests. The groups that didn't consist of slowly distrusting faces were mingling, the others were not. 

"What do you want." 

"Do these people seem," She searched her mind for a word that fit "Violent, to you." 

"Most people seem violent towards me. Its a hard life." 

"I mean," She said. "Don't they seem a bit more violent looking than normal travelers." 

He peered over the group. Yes, there were certainly looks of death aimed in their direction, but no one was acting on them. No blades had been pulled, nor were they even readying to pull them. These people seemed almost peaceful in comparison to the average citizen in Anun-Felrid. He smiled. 

"Surely they're just tired from their trip and things have been hard on them." 

"That doesn't explain the looks." 

"It explains why they'd be upset that strangers joined the. Perhaps they weren't wishing for anyone else." Morgan himself knew this to be false, given the invite from Vargos he'd received earlier. 

"Nor the muttering." 

"Some people don't speak up, its a terrible habit." 

"What about the dagger?" 

"What dagger?" He turned around. Sure enough, one of the travelers in the group had produced a dagger and was waving it about. He also seemed to be talking with Vargos, who shook his head and gave a dejected look. A look that said he'd made a terrible mistake. 

"That one is a bit more difficult to explain away. Tell you what, I'll go talk with Vargos and clear with whole thing up. If we're actually intruding, then we'll just leave and that will be that. Fair?" 

"Are you sure? They seem a bit-" 

"I'm sure. It'll be fine, may a beast of indescribable horror strike me down should I be wrong." He mocked

"Okay." She relented. 

He nodded, gave a short smile, then turned and walked back towards the table. Vargos sat surrounded on all side and looking rather displeased. 

"So," Morgan said, starting what he hoped would be a rather short conversation "My... partner, thinks that you're upset with her." 

"Oh, no such thing." Vargos said

"Oh good." 

"Just that shes our target." 

"Well thats not something she can-" He paused. Had the man said target? "Did you say Target? As in the thing you aim at." 

"Or your designation to kill." 

"I see." 

"Yes." 

Silence. 

"So you're..." 

"Assassins, Yes." Vargos said. 

"And you've been hired to..." 

"Kill her, yes." 

Silence. 

"I see. May I have a moment?" 

"Please," Vargos waved his hand dissmissively 

Morgan made his way across the room and back to Artessa who, as it happened, was muttering to herself. 

"So, how'd it go?" She asked as he approached. 

"Great, great, just great." 

"They want to kill me, don't they." 

"They're the assassins from the raid on the caravan from my guess." 

"Well what are they doing here?" 

"Getting out of the rain I'd wager," Morgan said. "Vargos had no idea who i was, so clearly they're not after me." 

"Vargos?" 

"Their leader, we met when I housed the horse." 

"That was the fellow that came in after us then," 

"Yeah," He said. "Does it matter?" 

"Not really," She said, "But now I have to figure out a way to leave." 

"What I don't get, is why haven't they attacked you yet?" 

"Excuse me?"

"Well, they're assassins, right?" 

"So they claim." 

"And you're their target, right?" 

"Again." She said. 

"Well, you're just standing here. You've got a guard, thats it. Why not just rush us and be done with it." 

"Honestly, Morgan. I'm surprised by how your mind works sometimes." 

"Well?" 

"I can't say I disagree though." 

"Hey!" He called. Vargos perked up. 

"Yes?" 

"Why not just attack us and win then?" 

"I'm sorry?" Vargos asked 

"What are you doing Morgan?" Artessa placed a had on his shoulder in a gripping fashion, hoping to deter the actions but it was already too late.

"Why not just strike and get us?" He repeated "We're right here and largely defensed as little as possible." 

"Would you prefer I attack you?" 

"Not especially," Artessa said

"I'm just confused is all." 

Thump 

"I can't say that I'm not," Vargos said. "Its a strange time." 

"What was that?" Artessa asked. 

"So?" Morgan said. 

"So what?" Vargos replied. 

"Are you going to attack her?" 

"I hadn't decided yet." He said. 

Thump 

"Really," She said, "What was that noise?" 

"Whos making all that racket?" The portly man that had welcomed them was currently making his way from the back with a raised fist in protest. 

"Well perhaps you should decide." Morgan said.

Vargos reached for the blade on his side and rested his hand on the pommel. His face seemed to tighten into a conflicted strike. On one hand, he was an assassin with an obligation to the ever present contract. On the other, he had invited Morgan as a guest, and that made killing him technically sacralige against some god somewhere, and Vargos was never one to impress ill-will upon the gods. 

"I don't-"

Thump, Thump

"For Gods sake," The portly man was screaming now "What is making that racket!" 

Suddenly the roof caved in and rain pelted the occupants, Standing in the hole was a large creature, several stories tall, with a face like an eldrich-chicken, with deformed wings, piercing red eyes, and a very angry and put upon face.  

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