Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: jen@athena.mit.edu (Jennifer Hawthorne)
Subject: Max:  Max replies to Tojar (with nods to others)
Message-ID: <1992May17.213309.20378@athena.mit.edu>
Date: Sun, 17 May 1992 21:33:09 GMT


[Tojar]

  "Boy!" he calls, in the direction of the bar, "Come out and give
account of yourself, for your pursuer has gone for now, and many here
have pledged their honour for your safety."

  Andor Kell turns to his lord, and whispers something, sotto voce.

  Oridian nods in agreement to his vassal. "Let it be done," he states.

  Andor motions to the third knight, and the two followers exit the Inn.

  Tojar looks about, and realisation comes to him that his cloak has
slipped. He pulls it about him, even tighter, and studies the faces of
those who watched the fracas, looking, perhaps, for evidence of
recognition.

  "I think this so called 'Baron' brings the rank into disrepect," he
mumbles, to no one in particular.
--------------------

After a moment, the brim of the cap appears over the edge of the bar,
followed a moment later by the head on which it sits as the boy warily
rises to his feet.  The dagger has vanished back into whatever place
it came from, thought the rapier is still drawn. His expression a mix
of relief, wonder, and confusion, with still just a hint of fear, he
surveys the main room as if unable to comprehend that the captain has,
indeed, gone.  His eyes follow Stohl as the man vanishes up the stairs
to the sleeping room, then he turns to face Tojar with a touch of
hesitation.  Although he does not appear to recognize Tojar's armor
for what it is, the man's manner and bearing have a definite effect on
him; he quickly (and smoothly) returns his light blade to its
accustomed place on his belt, and lowers his eyes as he nods to the
Baron, tugging on his forelock in the manner in which the common folk
of the South show respect to their betters. 

He starts to speak, and all that comes out is a squeak.  Flushing, he
clears his throat, licks dry lips, and tries again.  "I -- I thank ye,
noble sir, for yer defense.  I fear m'life might have been done with,
without ye, and the other noble sirs who've come to m'aid.  Thank ye
all, most kindly. I dunnow that I c'n ever repay ye the favor, but
if ye should need me, m'life is yours t'command."  He makes the
gesture of obeisance toward the quartermaster, Nishi Oka, William the
Younger, and lastly to Drax.  He stares at Drax for a moment as Drax'
appearance registers, and his eyes flick to Drax' chest in horrified
fascination. 

"I dunnow what it is ye have in yer box, noble sir, but it must be
powerful magic, to put the willies into Cap'n Georgas so smartly."  

The boy tears his eyes away from the chest with difficulty, returning
to address Tojar again.  "Beggin' yer pardon, sir.  I'm called Max,
sir, Max Smithson, be that m'father were the blacksmith in our town.
Gods witness my words, but I've not stolen from either the Cap'n, nor
from his lord, and powerful sorry I am that I near brought blood t'
this place. I only wanted t'sup. I been long on t'road.  Truth be
told, I dunnow why 'tis the Baron wants me so bad." Although the
quaver in the lad's voice might be taken that he does not speak
entirely true on this, the puzzled dismay on his face seems real
enough.  

Hearing no immediate reply from Tojar, he licks his lips again and
says, "Please, sir, meanin' no disrespect, but where is it ye've sent
yer men off to?"