How Not to Poach a Unicorn

Twelve

Having crossed the river they were now in Haelund territory. They were somewhat comforted by that fact. Ashun had been as hospitable as its reputation suggested. Being back on home ground offered some measure of safety. In addition, Cariolta's royal blood should command a great amount of fealty should she be able to convince anyone she was, in fact, the Princess.

They traveled at a steady pace, but without with the haste and fear that had dominated their earlier flight. Prag's lack of concern about the remaining Shadow Thieves of Antiq was a great comfort to the company. He explained in detail how they were thieves and how good they were at that. He cited at great length numerous daring heists and clever burglaries that were attributed to the Shadows. Most of the stories seemed to have been shared with him over a pint of ale with an old friend, whom he had now shot. He eventually went on to explain that despite their expertise with inanimate objects, the Shadow Thieves were sorely lacking in interpersonal skills.

"They just don't know how to deal with people," he said. "Well, not living ones anyway. They're so awkward, the whole lot of them freeze right up at the thought of actually having to kill anyone."

Prag's chatter was nearly endless and it took very little time for his companions to drift into their own thoughts. It was unfortunate that they didn't pay more attention to his ramblings as they would have learned a great deal about the inner workings of international organized crime and some surprising details about the politics of Prag's home country of Caneria. Instead they traveled in ignorance, viewing Prag's voice to be little more than white noise soothing them into their own internal distractions.

They traveled for four days like this. Kish, having at length given up on her personal mystery, finally commented on Prag's apparently inexhaustible series of anecdotes and tasteless jokes. "How is it possible you're still talking? Do you even stop when you sleep?"

"Sorry what?" Prag was startled by the sudden realization that someone might actually be listening to him. "I wasn't paying attention."

It seemed that Prag had developed the ability to talk at great lengths about one thing while his mind was entirely elsewhere.

"What do you mean you weren't paying attention? You were the one talking!"

"Yes, well I find that people feel compelled to engage in conversation to fill the silence on long journeys. I had things I needed to think about so I just filled the dead air. Did I say anything interesting?"

Kish paused, feeling somewhat embarrassed at not being able to answer. It was not a feeling she was at all used to or comfortable with. "I wasn't listening." She muttered.

"That's as it should be. Cari? What about you?" "Huh? What? Sorry, I wasn't listening."

"Kazé?"

"Don't even bother." Grumbled the wolf, annoyed that he had just suffered through four days of intolerable noise only to discover that its only purpose was to grant the generator of it peace of mind.

"How about you kid?" Prag shouted to the boy, who had run ahead "Did you like my stories?"

Much to the confusion of his allies, he shot back a wide grin that made them feel like he had. He then gestured wildly as he had spotted something from the top of the hill.

Rushing to crest the hill, the group breathed a unanimous and simultaneous sigh of relief. They had reached civilization, or at least a reasonable facsimile of it. Down the other side was a small hamlet with a well travelled road leading away from it and off into the distance where, perched on a tall distant hill, they could just make out a large walled structure.

"That hill off in the distance should be Baron Taimon's castle." Cariolta squinted and pointed at her destination "We should be able to reach it by tomorrow night if the weather holds."