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Date Posted: 17:36:57 03/16/03 Sun
Author: Talar, Adaron, Leila
Subject: Challerain Episode p. III
In reply to: Talarin, Adaron, Leila, & Elomir 's message, "Challerain Episode p. II" on 17:07:29 03/16/03 Sun

One of the soldiers learns it's unwise to mess with the elendil...

Elves decorated the northern rampart of the Old Fortress. The rising black wall of the Everdark had not moved from its far off looming position, neither coming closer nor shifting away. On the parapet, for every other Elf stood a Man. Before them were the merlons and crenels, the solid blocks and open spaces that are frequently associated with a castle wall. At various places along the wall were charcoal fires, Men being dispatched at two at a time to warm themselves for a few minutes before returning to their post. As this was how it was upon the Old Fortress parapet, as it was for the four walls below them. Men could be seen passing below them, in front of their own charcoal fires, Elven eyes could pick out faces of those upon the nearest walls, where a Man might only see a figure, if that in the times when a warden would step into a shadowed area. It was nine candle marks passed high noon; and the watch upon the North Wall would be replaced in three more.

Leila had been singing once again that day, and the elf to her left--whose name she did not know, had taught her an elven ballad. It was short, but she wasn't so fluid with the language. Besides, it had taken her quite a while to get the elf to talk to her long enough to teach her the song. It seemed that the gypsy was even growing on the elves she didn't know. She had not gone and warmed herself at the fires today and had preferred to just hop a bit when she got cold until she warmed up again.

Adaron stood towards the east end of the wall, speaking softly in a foreign tongue to Talarin. He was clad as he was when he had left Tel'Oira Eldamar, scarlet cloak, gold plated armor underneath, and he looked very much one of the Kingmens, for though they did not wear gold plated armor, these were the King's colors, as could be seen on the flags that bore the King's standard: a golden griffin rampant upon a scarlet field, that blew in the frigid Winter Wind. The wagon trains had arrived earlier that day, oldsters, women, and children would be soon departing as a new train left each day hereafter. Tomorrow was young Prince Igon's birthday, and there was to be a great feast for the lad of sixteen-summers to be. One of the Men, returning from warming himself next to the charcoal fire took the place of a Man that had been warden next to the woman. He did not know her name. Stepping into the others position he lanced at her before returning his eyes to the darkness before them. "The wagons arrived today. It seems you'll be on your way soon." He was pleasant enough, trying to make conversation.

She didn't turn to look at the man, but a smile tugged the corners of her mouth up. An eyebrow raised as she looked out over the snowy plains. In an equally pleasant voice then she responded to the new warden. "I shall not be leaving with them. I am here to fight. None of the other women wear armor," she informed him in a melodious tone.

"Surely you jest, my lady, for no women are allowed to stay, even to fight. It is not their place, nor do they have the strength to match up against a simple Rukh." The man, being from Pellar, King Aurion’s main dwelling where his Host now saw, likely oblivious to the coming of the Everdark though Heralds had been sent to them..., addressed the weakest of the spawn in his own tongue. Though the Rukh were weak, they overcome their enemies by their sheer numbers. "Ah," A man to the other side of the Elf leaned forward, putting his two cents in. A man from Valon, here with Hrosmarshal Vidron, "..a Rutch is a formidable foe for a woman. Even one in armor...." Rocking back on his heels then he returned to his own business and continued his vigil.

"I assure you that I do not jest," she said coolly. "I came here as a warrior and I will leave or die here as one." She then turned to regard the man who disappeared and then just shook her head. "I will not quarrel about this knowing that I could best you both in any type of combat you would see fit." Which was a stretch, but she was confidant in it. Arrows for sure, perhaps fighting with long swords, short swords would be harder.

The man from Valon had come to stand next to the one from Pellar at her words. "A warrior is not made simply because one is given the title of Captain. And you are a foolish woman indeed to think that you could best me, or anyone for that matter who wards this Fortress." And then the Pellarian piped up. "You'll see, High King Aurion will have you leaving here just like all the other women, and children." The one from Valon guffawed.

"You would call me a child?" she asked in a tone growing increasingly chilled and dangerous. It was true that she had to look up at both man, but the fire in her eyes told of a wickedly tenacious spirit. "I do not have to think it, sire, I know it as fact. As for my leaving...we shall see about that shall we not?" she stepped dangerously close to him then, speaking in a low tone. "And when I am fighting beside you as you take your last breath of air you will think back on these words you have had with me and you will woe your fate." It was easy to see why gypsies were called spell-casters. The tone of her voice could send chills down the spine of Drego himself.

It was here that the Captain of the Men had stepped up. He had only the chance to hear her words, though low they had been. He stepped in between the woman and the Pellarian. "Ho now, we are both on the same side." Though he had spoken to the two, his reprimanding look was given to the woman. "We should remember that, for we will also be fighting to save each other, else the one who is not may as well bow before Drego now." With a snap to his last phrase he turned headed off down the line, reminding his Men to keep their eyes open, only two and half more candlemarks and then finally to beds. The two who had remarked to her continued, a smirk upon their faces at what they considered was a lecture given to only her, though that was not the case. The man from Valon leaned close to the other man. Muttering loud enough for her to hear. "You should not say children..." Was he standing up for her now? Hardly. "After all, Prince Igon will be staying." The other leaned back, shaking his head, the man from Pellar. "No, he isn't. King Aurion has told him to leave with the wagons as well, though, not because he is a child. I deem it is because he wishes one of his kin out of harms way."

She glared at the man from Valon and then to the other two as well before she turned her back to them and continued her watch over the lands. She had not time to tarry with their ignorance and as long as they said nothing further to her then her temper would be controlled.

"Where is it that you hail from? You arrived with the Elves but surely you do not dwell there, or have not your whole life." The Pellarian stepped up close to her as if they had been friends this whole time.

Slightly uneasy at his nearness, she shifted a bit. "I hail from Aragon. I did not live with the elves until I am the age I am now." She didn't look over her shoulder, but she knew where he stood in the way that you knew when there was someone right behind you.

"Aragon?" He slightly *hmphed* "That is a bit far. And what would one from Aragon care about this part of the Midlands? Though, on second thought, I suppose they should care, the Everdark is not fickle about what it devours."

"Then you have answered your own question."

He moved to stand at before her, yet off to the side, his back against the wall, arms folding over his chest. The Man from Valon watching from his position just to the other side of the Pellarian. But it was the man from Pellar who spoke. "Why did you leave Aragon? I've heard that it's a pleasant enough city."

She finally turned to look him straight in the face. "I left because to stay there would have meant death for me. After my father died there was no one to stop them from trying to kill what had been the bane of their city since my birth. For them to know that I was possessed of gypsy blood was a stain in their minds to the good city. As good of a fighter as I am, they caught me when I was without weapon and beat me until I was more than half dead. I still bear the scars, and if not for Talarin and Adaron I would not be here."

"Hmph." A single shoulder of his lifted in a shrug. "Perhaps you should not have been beating, yet, perhaps you deserved what you got. After all, your kind has no morals and probably sides with Drego even now. You steal, tempt men; casting spells upon them to weaken their will and bend to your own, ruin families, thieve children among other things and generally simply aren't good to have around. It is beyond me why the Elves would let you stay with them, perhaps they pitied you and still do. And yet, you probably take advantage of them. I don't know why you didn't speak of your mother, perhaps something happened to her...perhaps she was the gypsy. Perhaps you even poisoned your own father, though, I'm sure we'll never know."

Adaron and Talar had stopped speaking, keen Elven ears picking up the conversation. Talar had started to step forward, anger boiling within yet Adaron put his arm out, Talarin giving him a questioning look. His response was a look of his own, silently stating that she was a big girl, and would want to handle this on her own, if she were able to.

Anger boiled the gypsy blood. Her hands balled into fists at her side and she drew herself up straighter and tipped her chin in a gesture that was distinctly Adaron. "You do not know me. Do not presume that you know me. I see that you are no better than the men that would castigate me for sins I committed not. Be you gone from my presence, I have not the time to tarry with the ignorance of one such as yourself for you have no idea of what you speak. My mother was a gypsy, yes, but she did not poison my father. She was burned as a witch shortly after my birth, an accusation that I am convinced was false. Do not believe in all the lore that you hear or else you will find yourself in a very sad state, good sir. I have stolen nothing, nor have I taken a man to bed or even so much as tempted one, I have not cast spells and am not pagan by your standards, I have ruined no families, and I have done nothing but good by way of children. Why I stay with the eldalie is their own business. They trust me, and I suggest that you learn to do so as I will be protecting your life and you mine," a throwback to her reprimand from earlier. "I need not to justify myself to you," she snapped coldly before turning her back once more so that she faced the merlon.

"Hah!" He barked a laugh then came till his face was not an inch from her own. "You do not deserve to walk the walls of this Keep." He stepped back then, circling around the back of her until he stood on her right. "And...so secretive about the Elves...even speaking their language....Apparently you obsess over them, learning the language...perhaps...you stay...because you fancy one of them. Is that it?"

Her head snapped to the side to look at him. "I learn their language because I live among them," she hissed. "Furthermore, my emotions and feelings are my own and are not something that you have the right to question you insolent fool."

Quickly his finger pointed at her. "You do not deny it. So surely it must be. Well let me explain something to you, never would an Elf feel anything more than friendship towards a human." It has happened, but he would leave that out. "And never would an Elf feel anything more than pity for one such as yourself. In fact, I bet that is it." A smirk slipped over his lips. The man from Valon had gone quiet, thinking his friend was going a little far with their teasing. The Pellarian's arms folded over his chest as he waited. "Perhaps..." His eyes narrowed, "they grow so tired of your revolting presence that they bring you here in hopes there is a war and that you fall during it." Awaiting a reaction.

His first words had wounded her and it had shown in a slight wince and as they continued her pride was beginning to fail. Her hands were folded atop the wall in a praying position, her lips rested against her index fingers. Leila took a deep breath, fighting with the tears that were now beginning to form. "That is not true. That is not true at all. The elves would never wish harm upon me--not a single one of them." Except perhaps the golden elf, but he was no longer someone she saw.

"Of course they do! You think they see you differently? Not possible. You are the same in...." He shrugged. "Everyone's eyes. Even those two there." He gestured to the two Elves who were speaking earlier, now watching. Mostly he referred to Talarin, having seen her speaking with him in a close manner the other day. "To him, all you are is a plague that will die out....and he can hardly wait for the day, for then he will be rid of your pestilence." He passed behind her now, arms still folded, booted feet scuffing softly. It was too dark for him to the expression that the Elven faces had adorned.

Talars fists clenched, but it was Adaron who began to advance up the two, Leila and the Man.

"No!" she cried in a voice choked by a sob. Her fists slammed down against the castle wall at the same time to push her weight to her feet. Tears streamed down her face now and she turned from the wall, shoving hard against the man stood behind her having every intention of running down from the ramparts to hide the scalding tears that slid down her chilled face.

Adaron was there, his hands extending to the blinded woman. Her weight brought her into him, and an both arms wrapped protectively about her. His head dipped, as he allowed his nose to gently touch the top of her head. His ocean blue eyes snapped up at them, oceans of fire. His jaw was set as his gaze bore into the man that had been forced to turn as he passing him by, stiffening under the weight of the Elf's gaze.

Talar was there as well, at Adaron’s side, a hand lifting to gently stroke down the Elendil's back. He did not look at the Men, but focused upon his broken friend.

She could have melted right there in his arms and had dissolved into sobs instantly once his arms wrapped around her. If nothing else, Leila knew she was safe from the wicked words of the soldier, and Talar there as well. Her voice was choked as she forced the words out. "I am so sorry...I have tried so hard." Her whole body shook, wracked with heart-wrenching sobs.

Again his head dipped lightly, his voice gentle and soft, comforting. "You have done nothing wrong here." Again his eyes snapped up to the Man. It was he that had committed the foul act. Gently he urged her into Talar's arms, who quickly placed his arm about her, drawing her close. Straightened, Adaron slowly advanced upon the man, he had time. "You, a respectable warrior and Kingsmen of High King Aurion. You would poison his name. You have displayed here and now the filth that you claim you so despise." His words were ice and were they capable of such an act they would have struck the Man down. Even as the man slowly backed up, Adaron still moved towards him. And though the Elf had made no motion of drawing his Elven blade, the man feared he could do it with a nearly unearthly quickness.

"For-forgive me, Lord Adaron." All the Men atop this wall knew of the Emissary, just as they knew of Lady Astariel.

Adaron seemed to have not heard the man. Or, if he had, he disregarded the words. "Who are you to despise her? Who are you to criticize her? Leave her. Leave her be. She is with me. If your slate is clean, then you may throw stones. If it is not....which I deem is the case, by your own act, then leave....her.....alone." His voice had lowered to a deathly calm. For a long moment his gaze bore into the mans before abruptly he turned quickly moved passed Talarin and Leila to go down the stairs, leaving the rampart.

The Man visibly calmed, nearly falling backwards into his Valonian companion, letting out a breath, as he had been holding it. He swallowed, and turned his eyes to the Elf and woman.

Leila remained in Talar's arms. She was shocked to hear Adaron speak so harshly towards the man and was now quite sure that he had never been quite so angry even with her. Amber and green eyes closed after he passed and left the rampart then. Eyes turned up to look at Talar. "Thank you," she said softly, a hand coming up to rest upon his shoulder. "Is our watch over? I feel like I should go and speak to Adaron, and yet...perhaps I should give him time to calm down, even then..." she bit her lower lip. "I would not want to anger him about this again. I only wish to assure him that I am all right." She was not a fragile elendil, but tonight had just pushed her a bit too far.

"It is for you to decide what to do, Leila. Though take heed, Adaron is not angry with you and will not misdirect his anger. Do not fear that he will speak ill towards you, for it will not be done; just as it only went to the one who so caused the feeling." A soft grin was given to his close friend. It had been her decision, yet he knew her well, and he knew that is words would comfort her fear, and so would cause her to go after the one she held so dear. "Our watch is over, as you can see." Talarin glanced over his shoulder, Elves could be seen replacing others at their posts. "You are free to go." Lips parted as his smile grew.

She smiled up to him then, taking both his hands and squeezing them. "Thank you, Talarin en Taure," a slight bow and inclination of her head before she smiled wider. "You are the truest friend I could have ever asked for. I owe you everything," and then his hands were released and she turned to skirt down the stairs quickly to find her a'mael.

Adaron had exited the rampart via the stone stairwell. He had passed through an oak door only to be stopped by a young Prince of the Realm. The corridor was lit by Igon’s lamp and the two spoke softly.

Leila had followed his path and found him once she too passed through that door. Seeing that he spoke with the prince, she kept her distance for the moment in case they required privacy. The redness that had colored her face had faded and her tears dried. The smile she gave to Igon would indicate nothing was wrong or ever had been although that was not the case.

The conversation between the Prince and the Elven Emissary had been short. Upon seeing the young warrior maiden Igon beamed a smile towards her. "My Lady, I'm glad to have had the chance to meet up with you. Tomorrow night there is a feast in celebration of my birth date. It would honor me if you came." Pearly whites were flashed.

She moved forward then and grasped his forearms with a beautiful smile. "My Prince, I shall be there with bells on--perhaps quite literally should the entertainment get dull. I am quite skilled at dancing you know, I may have to embarrass you in front of your men and your family," with a playful wink.

Igon too grasped her arms lightly, eye brows lifting. "Would you? Would you show us a dance?" He was greatly excited, he knew naught what she meant by embarrass him, except that maybe she would try and make him dance with her in a dance he did not know. But that wasn't so bad. Upon asking her the first time the youth's voice had cracked with his excitement.

A merry laughter then as she pulled the prince forward and embraced him, amused by the cracking of his voice. She pulled him back then and looked up to him. "I would be very glad to do so. It is high time that men and elves learn a positive thing or two about the gypsies," a grin. Though perhaps it would prove to be tempting, her dance, it would not be obscene.

He was not unnerved by her embrace. Had it been in public, perhaps it would not have been very appropriate. But this was different. What did Adaron care? Again she was held at arms length. "Yes! I'm sure it will be most splendid! I will greatly look forward to tomorrow night then. I'm sorry to have to leave so quickly, yet I must speak with Hrosmarshal Vidron."

She released him then with a bow. "Rest well tonight, Prince Igon. Tomorrow night shall be a grand occasion." A last smile given to him before he left. Which left her there alone with Adaron, for no one else seemed to be about.

A quick nod from the Prince and then he departed, exiting out the door that they had entered in, whistling softly.

Adaron had lifted a brow when she had included the Elves in learning good things about the gypsies. "We do not think ill of you." Was simply stated. He was surprised by her quick recovery. Perhaps Talarin had managed to quickly lighten her mood as was a skill of his.

She had not recovered so much as just pushed everything aside, there was no need to upset Igon, though now he would see some of the sadness creep back into her eyes, though she kept it from her features. "I know, Adaron. I simply included the elves because men and elves will be present." Her hands folded before her and once more her head lifted so she could meet his gaze. "I want to thank you for..." how do put it? "protecting my honor." a blush coming into her cheeks visibly though it was usually hard to detect.

"You do well at protecting your own honor." He made no outward notice of the coloring accenting her cheeks. He turned, holding the lamp that Igon had passed off to him and began to walk down the corridor, of course, slowly, with a glance given to her to question if she was to walk with him.

She was to walk with him so she set herself into motion. Inside it was warmer than in the window so the large robe was removed and carried in her arms, revealing the chain mail corselet underneath. "I think I do well and angering people whom I should not. I try not to bring conflict. I only wish to help, yet people do not see me as another warrior willing to lay down their life to protect the greater good--they see a gypsy woman, which as you heard, are not highly thought of."

"There are Men, yes, who think as he did, but not all. I know that you know that as well. Perhaps over time their views will start to change, as you meet others and they see you for who you are and what you are, no matter the title given to you." They had come to another door and he pushed upon it. The ringed handle being on the other side. Into another corridor he led her.

She smiled a little as they walked through the doors into the other corridor, a silent yawn was covered by her hand. "You are right, but..." she paused and then shook her head. "I know not the words to finish that thought, I can only describe feelings, and I am grateful to you and Talar, and thankful that I know you both." Afraid that would make him slightly uncomfortable, she changed subjects. "When will the last wagon train leave?" as to ask when Astariel and Elomir would leave.

This day was the 17th day of December. "The last train leaves in four days time. On the twenty-first." He walked in silence now, though not trying to keep the conversation to a minimum. Before them, caught by the light of the lamp, another door loomed. One that would take them without and to the barracks.

As they got closer to the door, she donned the robe again and tied it 'round her waist. " 'Twould be one thing I would enjoy most if I were an elf...not to feel such chilling winds," as the door was pushed open and the icy wind wrapped its frigid fingers in their hair and 'round their bodies.

At this comment she made a slight grin found its way upon his lips once more as into the chill night air they stepped. "I see that you have acquired armor. Aurion King's and Prince Gelan's I believe." A hundred and fifty yards away the dark building loomed up before them, a few of the windows showing dimly lit lanterns within.

She turned to look up to him with a smile. "You are right. It may be a young prince's armor, but it fits this grown woman just right!" a quiet laugh. "I think I shall retire early this eve," as they entered the barracks, which once again meant she had no intention of eating. Talar was going to have a conniption.

He nodded once. "Do not to take your watch at noon, for the feast begins early in the evening. And it is in the main hall, where you first met the High King." He reminded her. "Rest well." He handed the lamp off to her, as he was not yet retiring and she would need it most likely more so.

~*~


Leila had been trying to fall asleep for an hour but to no avail. She was on her stomach, her chin propped up on the flat pillow that she'd folded double. Amber and green eyes stared at the stone wall and watched the shadows dance upon the ancient concrete. She was concealed from everyone else by the blanket that draped down from Talar's bed to her own. It afforded her not only privacy but also protection from any drafts. She was in a white dressing gown that cuffed at her wrists and fell to her ankles in a sheet of heavy fleeced wool that was amazingly soft against her skin, quite pleasant. A light sigh escaped her lips as she replayed the events of the evening over in her head.

The barracks were not silent. Soft foreign words spoken by the Elven occupants flitted through the silence. Silent footfalls carried the leath Elf through the barracks along the rows of beds. There were four beds to a row, the head of Leila's and Talarins was against the wall, another bed started at the end of theirs. There were 120 beds total. 60 beds on each side. 15 sets of four. Steel-Ring paused long enough to speak to a kindred before he continued to his bed. There was a light disturbance of the blanket that hung down from his mattress as his hands placed upon it and he lifted himself onto the bed. He laid down, positioned on his back, his eyes drifting to a close, hands moving to fold over his stomach.

She knew Talar had called above her. After a few minutes passed she rolled onto her back and stared up at the bottom of his cot. "You do not really think I am a plague, do you?" she asked in the softest of voices, though her emotions were still easily conveyed and they were that of sadness that followed her conversation with the knight.

His lashes lifted from his cheeks to blink slowly, azure gaze focused upon the ceiling. Softly his words came from parted lips. "I do not, nor do any that dwell in Eldamar. Do not take to heart the words of those men. Jealousy brought them to their words."

"But for what reasons would they be jealous?" she asked, crawling from her bed to the end where she stood upon the metal bar at the end of her bed, resting her chin upon the bar at the foot of his. Her head tipped to the side slightly to wait.

His head lifted to allow his eyes to look at the dark haired maiden at the edge of his bed, fitting between the other set of bunk-beds that started two and a half feet after theirs ended. His hands left his stomach as his arms moved back, elbows seeking to prop him up; and that they did. "Because, you obviously have shown enough skill to walk the walls with men. Not a common trait in your race. It is of your skill that those two were jealous."

She grinned, "And all this time I thought it was because I was prettier than they!" she jested. "But most importantly the highlight of such a rotten night..." she just laughed then and he knew exactly what she meant, a song echoing from her lips. "A gay little lark melody..." Leila was truly cute in personality as beautiful as she was for a human.

His hands pushing downwards on the mattress Talarin pushed himself up and back until his back pressed against the head of his bed and the stone wall. A light laugh came from his lips. Hands then once more entwined fingers and laid over his stomach. "Pray tell, what was this highlight you speak of?" Of course it had to do with Adaron. He knew that for sure.

She hauled herself up carefully between the narrow space and glanced over her shoulder, no one in that bunk. So she sat upon it with her knees hanging over the bar. She leaned against them, resting her chin upon them. "For brief moments, my good elf, I resided within his protective arms, and for those few moments, I was complete," a nod given. Her head looked away to hide that silly smile upon her lips.

His brows rose as lips split, his grin nearly spreading from ear to ear. "Well, as I am sure you that you have figured out, he trusts you now. Are you able to see a difference? Or does he still appear emotionless to you?" His grin morphed into a smile, pleased to see her in bright spirits after the confrontation earlier in their night.

"Indeed I see a difference," she gushed, her hands lifting to wave about dramatically. "He touched his nose to my head before he looked to the guard. I felt his muscles tighten. I knew he was angry. It makes me feel...oddly enough happy that he would get angry that someone was so verbally cruel to me."

"I am overjoyed to see you happy, Elendil. I am sorry though, that it came about from such a terrible start." Talarin had never seen Adaron so angry at another life form, not including the Spawn. Still, he would keep that from Leila for now, he did not wish to put thoughts into her mind that might cause heartbreak.

Changing subjects quickly then, although it would probably lead back to the same point. "I told Prince Igon that I would dance for him tomorrow night at his banquet. That means I'm wearing the purple ensemble whether you like it or not," she teased. "I will wear something over it though to stay warm until I must dance, then I will really give these men a reason to be jealous. I fight as well as they, and I dance better," she crowed.

Slowly his head shook to and fro. "As long as you stay warm. And eat!" He quickly added. "I will be there as well and perhaps your dance with lift the spirits of the men for the Everdark seems to draw away their hope, even as it is still." He sighed softly, shaking his head. "Yet tell me, you went to see him. How was that?"

"I believe he was feeling better. He was talking to Igon when I found him. We walked together through the corridors until we came outside, then we parted ways because I said I wanted to come to bed. There were not many words exchanged, but I smiled for him to make sure he knew that I was fine if not just a tad shaken."

He lowered his voice. Talarin teased her, but not often, and not about Adaron. But he would not, due to her spirit. "Mayhaps you should have told him to sing you to sleep, that you would rest better. Mayhaps hold his hand...." He waved his hand as he pretended that he would continue with his ramblings.

She picked up the pillow behind her and threw it at him, laughing musically in a way that filled the barracks with the cheerful sound. "Mayhaps I should have indeed! For I would have slept better and had dreams more pleasant than the ones I already have..." threatening him with details which he really didn't want.

Arms lifted to cross over his face in defense as the pillow flew at him. It struck his arms and fell to the floor. A few eyes turned to the two, smiles coming after. He rolled his eyes playfully at her words. "Should you not be returning to those dreams? Prince Igon's birthday is tomorrow evening. You should rest."

"Uma! I should." She pushed up from the bed and then dropped down the narrow opening and crawled into her bed, giving Talar a firm kick right under his bum through the mattress.

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