Mariette gently closes the door behind her, then makes her way downstairs, the while devouring her humble meal.

  Upon reaching the final step, she sees across the tavern and finds the Doberman from yesterday were there. Sitting with his compatriots and two others whom she didn't recognize. They were all asleep against the table at which they sat. Mariette gasps, her chest tightens with cool fear as she recalls the day before. She stands at the bottom steps, frozen for a moment, until the badger bartender inquires to her, "Is everything right, miss?" Despite his disposition regarding her when they had met, now he seemed more concerned about her well-being. It was that small comfort that was able to allow Mariette some reprieve of her anxiety.

  "Y-Yes... Indeed I am well... Thank you." she replies, disinclined to share with him her trepidation to move any further. She heaves a labored breath and steels her nerves, assuring herself that they wouldn't wake as she passed through the tavern. Exiting through the door, she releases her breath, unaware that she held it at all, and crosses the road to the post where hopefully a message lay in wait.

  Within the post, the same old fox, William, looks up from his numbing busy-work of doing nothing, now elated to find a person to service. "Oh! Thou art back! So soon? I am afraid that there has been no return of yet, after all, the trip there would probably take a couple days at least. Unless you have a new message to send for?" his question rose in tenor, clearly implying a hopeful assumption of Mariette.

  She shakes her head, disappointed that the letter had not arrived yet. "Nay, I'm afraid I've only come in the hopes that you hath received response. I'm sorry to have piqued your interest further. Good day to you."

  "Oh please might you stay? I find myself so idle of boredom. If you haven't a task to fulfill of the day, perhaps you and I could share stories?"

  Mariette pauses at the door, taking a moment to think of the proposition. "Aye, I see no harm in conversation with you. My friend is currently resting away in the tavern, so, I haven't anywhere I must be of yet." she agrees and comes back to the counter where William eagerly bounced in his chair.

  "Oh greatest of joy!" his hands fluttering in the air, "I have so many inquiries of you!"

  Mariette spent the next hour or so chatting with the lonely postmaster. He told of his late wife, whom were struck with leprosy and passed awhile ago. How deeply it had haunted him that she had been alone in their hut while she withered away, how cross he was that her burial were a pyre and not a headstone. Mariette spoke to him as a kind friend, offering condolences and praise for his strength of character in that he let the ordeal not bring him down with sorrow or rage. She prayed with him, for his wife and himself. Their conversation continued, and ranged from Mariette's curiosity of the world she has never known, to William's curiosity of the life of a nun.

  After finally, Mariette felt her stomach growl against her in the midst of a jovial story that William told from his youth. Taking the hint, William cuts his story short and offers, "Would you care for food? I doubt that tavern has anything worth eating. Perhaps you could have your knight friend join us too? I would imagine that a proper meal is well missed by either of you."

  Mariette smiles warmly at him, "Oh dear William. I couldn't possibly bring myself to impose, let alone with a guest. And we have been eating well enough within our room. I have yet to complain; the dried fish is particularly savory." she humbly protests his offer. Yet, William will not take 'no' for an answer. "Oh pigwash! I would be delighted to have guests. Especially the likes of you two. Such noble peoples in charge of their faith. I could only hope that I be granted such honor."

  Mariette giggles at his mannerisms as he speaks, while his hands are flicking away concerns of politeness or chivalry, she cedes to his offer, "Well... I suppose I might 'tleast ask of Armen if he would care for hospitality such as yours."

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  With a bow she turns and steps away to the exit. Opening the door to leave she sees the vagrant from before stumbling out of the tavern. His friends in tow, while they all begin to unravel the tied reigns of their horses that stood leashed to a post. She hurriedly shuts the door and retreats back, near William's desk. He looks up, concerned, "What is it? What do ye see?"

  Mariette, nervously breathing while her heart kicks up in her chest, "A...A foul doberman yesterday had accosted and struck me within the market. I saw him leaving the tavern of which myself and Armen are staying. I wish not for him to know I'm unaccompanied by my friend. Nor that I frequent there."

  "Doberman you say? Hmph. I know of him. Everyone in this town does. Crallen is he." William spits the name out like a bitter salt.

  "Yet none do anything against him? Why?"

  "He mostly leaves us townsfolk alone. He goes about the roads, him and his gaggle of idiot cowards, robbing, beating, accosting. Never has he done anything too great, as of yet, but we have only few guards here. So they mostly leave them alone, so long as they keep their sins out of town."

  Mariette stands still, while not condoning the lack of action by the townsfolk, she also understood the desire they held to keep peace within their own streets. Not looking to solve troubles outside of them.

  She lingers by the door longer, occasionally cracking it open to spy outside, waiting for them to vacate. So intent on waiting for a clear moment to traverse the street into the safety of the room, she were deaf to William speaking; him trying to garner her attention and distract her from her fretful state by talking about whatever meals he is able to cook for her and Armen. After a few minutes of them arguing amongst each other and occasionally puking, and furthermore unable to hoist themselves upon their horses, they finally stumble away down the road, deeper into the town and out of her sight. Mariette, now certain that the coast was clear, briskly walks across the street and into the tavern.

  She takes no mind to greet or acknowledge the badger as she keeps her head low and goes up into the room. Only intent on getting in and staying, having completely forgotten both her hunger and the gratefully desired offer of a meal from William. Entering the room, she breathes, releasing the tension in her shoulders and mind as she relaxes within the presence of Armen. Though, he still lay sleeping, cradling the single pillow like it were a significant token of comfort.

  Mariette sits upon the foot of the bed, and rests a hand upon the calf of Armen's boot, comforted by his being. Her touch, though light, causes Armen to stir and he jolts up, glancing around the room in a startle. She flees her hand from his legs and brings it to her chest in surprise, "My! Ye sleep lightly."

  Armen, after glancing around the room and recalling where he were, yawns in his response, "Indeed. My life offers little comforts. I often find myself to rest in less than ideal places in which a moment of deeper sleep might reap my life."

  Mariette furrows her brow in understanding. She brings her hand to rest again upon his boot, fingers idly tapping against the toe as she tosses through her mind how she might speak to him about the lingering derelict about the town.

  Noticing her apparent tumult, Armen inquires of her, "Something eats you?"

  She glances over at him, then onto the floor as she begins to relay her mind with a shaky voice, "Indeed. I've seen that fellow from yesterday about town. In the tavern. As I left the postman. According to William, he is a common grievance for the folk. Though he keeps his work outside of the town itself, apparently he harbors a reputation. William tells me his name is Crallen."

  "There are no guards to bring him justice?"

  "Nay. There are too few to rectify anything beyond the township. His crimes go unspoken and unpunished."

  "I suppose then we should take care to avoid him. So long as he ignores us, I'm afraid we haven't the time nor power to judge him accordingly."

  "But you are beyond the laws of the land are you not?"

  "I am. Though it is in matters of faith and worship. By laws begat from Cathedral, he is beyond my reach. Until he directly jeopardizes my own charge, I can do little in any official capacity."

  "Are we not supposed to aid people in need? The township and its citizenry need someone to defend them from such brigands, do they not?"

  "And behold, that is the duty of the guards elected in their positions. The marshal must deal with such things. Not myself, nor you. Please, Mariette, pursueth not; for you have greater charge than the common rabble among the local citizens." In defeated understanding, Mariette cedes her idealized convictions, despite the gnawing in the back of her mind, she realizes that some duties are better left to those in charge of them.