The days pass, slowly, and as yet my leg feels no stronger. I hope this is not an ill portent, for I don't know how long I can bear this medical imprisonment. Now and then a traveler visits the Inn and lingers long enough to talk to, but not often. One traveler spoke to me of her wish to visit the elven kingdom rumored to hide within the woods to the east, though she knew not how to find it (neither do I). Another spoke of traveling north, but though he consulted and scribbled on a map, he insisted he had no destination in mind. My sense was that his true destination was not towards, but away, perhaps away from duty; he spoke of being a soldier, but in the past tense. Neither took much interest in song, nor mirth of any sort, and both seemed closed in on themselves, neither revealing anything about themselves nor asking anything of anyone else. The former soldier seemed almost amused at my idle threat that, if I saw him again after my leg healed, I would teach him how to dance. Not amused at the idea of dancing, or learning, though; this was more of a defiant amusement, as if to say "I'd like to see you try to make me". What is it about dancing that so many people dislike so much, especially those who haven't tried it? If he were any more gruff and taciturn, I would have to invite him to become an Eglan. Or suspect that secretly he already is one.
Glynn Harper has grown so tired of me asking to borrow his lute that he will no longer speak to me, nor play for me. Even the harper of the hall cannot keep up a pretense of merriment! But I am saved, or at least, I shall be, soon. Another scout who was passing by, having just made a trade of some ancient relics for a supply of preserved foods, chanced to see me on the Inn's porch, and visited to ask how I fared. On hearing my account, he promised he would fetch my lute and bring it back when next he was traveling this way. As he is riding one of the tribe’s horses, this will likely be tomorrow, or the next day at most. He also will see about bringing me some of my supply of pipe-weed, and perhaps even a book, if he can convince Hana to allow one to be brought so far from Ost Guruth. Not many of the Eglain prize our few books, but even so, they are fragile and hard to replace, so rarely leave her sight.
So there's something to look forward to, several things in fact. Not least of which is getting my leg back under me, and going back into the bitter wind of a cold winter, back to work. It's not just the duty, though that matters to me greatly. It's also the hope that my travels will take me to places more merry than here. Which is to say, almost anywhere!
