10/2/2004 01:41 AM

Courtyard
An open air courtyard is enclosed in the center of the Prancing Pony's compound. The yard is ringed in by the north and south wing of the Pony, and the eastern section of the building, which is set back into Bree-hill. On the fourth side bordering this yard is an archway, beyond which lies the Great East Road. The stables, which comprise the lower level of the south wing are accessed through a set of large double doors.


Moonlight spills over the stables, and lights upon the still form of a man. Short and broad, he leans against the open doors and watches over his domain with the air of a contented shepherd. All is well this night.


Into the courtyard steps a woman; she looks around cautiously and, spying the man, she approaches. "Yer the stableman, eh?"


"Aye." It is slow, laconic, drawn-out. For one word, it takes a good deal of time to say. "I am that. Have y'need of me?"


The woman nods, as slowly and deliberately. "Aye, if ye have time to talk?"


"Surely. Tis even, all the animals be resting. What can I do for y'then?" He stretches against the door and settles back again, arms crossed idly.


"Well then," she begins, her tone carefully neutral. "I'd heard some ... things ... an' I wondered if ye could tell me the truth of what I heard. Can ye tell me where Toby went? I used t'see him around, an' now he's gone."


The man's face hardens. "I told him he needn't come back. The boy has a bad reputation and while I was willing to allow him to work here as long as there was no trouble, I can't be having horses stolen."


The woman's face registers surprise. "He stole a horse? I find that hard to fathom, sir. Th' boy is misguided, b'times, but I don' think he'd stoop to such a thing as /that/..."


"No," the man admits grudgingly. "I do not think he stole the horse himself.. but he surely allowed it to be done, if he did not connive at the doing."


"And have you proof of his complicity? For I heard the horse in question was elf-bred, and I would think it would take more than that slip of a boy to do any good in such a raid."

The woman frowns. "I still cannot believe that of him," she notes, shaking her head. "I would much sooner believe him overpowered, or perhaps even tricked. I do not think he would /knowingly/ aid in the theft of such an animal."


He shrugs. "He was in no way injured when I saw him after. And he's stolen and lied before, it's nothing new."


The woman is not convinced. "I find that poor proof indeed. And why, if I may ask, did he lose his dagger as /well/ as his livelihood?"


A bit of a frown mars the stablemaster's face. "Why," he says pointedly, "If I may ask, are you asking these questions? What interest have you in the boy?"


"I think there's hope for that boy, if only he were nudged in the right direction. I want to help him find the right path, and get him away from those who would turn him to the bad."


Long he studies her face, then laughs, a low humorless sound. "I wish you luck. Tis why I allowed him work here, when all others said he was unredeemable. In truth, he has a knack with the beasts that is better than many. But think on't now, I can't be dodging that knife of his every time I feel need to chastise the lad, now can I?"


At this, the woman smiles. "I thought I saw a good heart in you, sir. Would you not give him a chance to prove himself? He swears he had naught to do with it, and I believe him. What's more, I am not so easily fooled as some. Can you not find it in your heart to try once more? And think: would this town not be better off with Toby as an upstanding citizen, instead of the alternative? He is at the age where he can be swayed; soon, with enough neglect and abuse, it will be too late."


The stableman is shaking his head, but perhaps he is not unpersuadable. "I'd have given him that chance," he says slowly. "Again, though in truth I thought him the one whose carelessness lost the beast. I told him this also... had he not pulled his knife on me when I punished him, he would yet have his job and a spot in the hay to sleep and I'd not have beat him so sore." He shrugs and offers the woman a half-crooked smile. "Boys learn best when beaten, else what they're taught doesn't remain in their brains. And," he goes on, "He'd yet have that shiny sticker he prizes so much. Told him, I did, that he's far too swift to snatch it - and must needs learn to think first."


The woman sighs, deeply, closing her eyes and shaking her head sadly. "That boy..." she mutters. "If it helps at all, I do think he's learned a lesson. And ... say! I have a thought. What would you say to a bit of a bargain, on the boy's behalf?"


"A bargain?" The man tilts his head towards her consideringly.


The woman smiles, nodding. "I wonder... could he not perhaps /earn/ back his prize? For you and I both know he treasures that thing above all other possessions. Between you and me, I think we may yet salvage the boy, and keep him from a far worse life."


He is silent a while, in thought. "Had you thought in mind how he might earn its return?" he asks at last. "Already, I dare not let him be unsupervised, for despite your protestations, I see none of your proof that he did NOT do this thing... and the loss of a horse is hard to bear; Barliman is not so rich as that."


The woman nods. "Let him earn it back through hard work, and /good/ work. Give him the chance to prove himself blameless in this; for though I know he is not blameless in all things, I still do not believe that he has done /this/ thing."


"Why?" There is less of instant denial and more of simple curiosity in his voice. "He is known to have ties to the thief, he is not above stealing himself... why think you him innocent of this?"


The woman shrugs, holding out her hands helplessly. "I... saw it in his eyes." She smiles. "I cannot say more clearly, yet women do sense these things. Also, though he would deny it if asked, I believe he took pride in this job."


"Hn." He snorts softly. More time goes by. "Very well," he says at last "If you think thusly, will you put yourself as surety for him? If another horse goes missing..." He lets his question trail off into the night.


The woman takes a deep breath, then nods. "I will speak to him, and I will vouch for him. In the matter of horses only, mind you. For I believe he respects the beasts too much to treat them so ill."


A nod. "Well then. But the knife, I will keep until such time I feel he won't try to stab me in my sleep if I return it." He raises a sardonic eyebrow at this most persuasive of women. "And you will see to his good behavior."


The woman grins then, and spits upon her hand before offering it to the man. "Done," she agrees.


His own meaty hand reaches out to seal the bargain.


The woman shakes hands heartily, and grins. "Excellent. I shall find him and tell him of our bargain. I think, between us, we may set him straight after all."