The man poured himself another cup of uisge beatha and cursed quietly under his breath.
When he agreed on taking more responsibilities, he instantly knew there would be problems. That was a given. On one hand, he was ready for that. The rough life he led made him tough. Tough and stubborn. Quite probably, that was the main reason he did not tie up and gag the wildling girl, when Shemkel assigned him to protect her.
Still, his word was sacred to him, so Mahin had no choice. Once he agreed for it, there was no going back. Fortunately, the curious and brave lass managed to revitalize some of parts of his soul he had considered long lost.
Nevertheless, this... this was unbearable. A vagabond like him, caring mostly about himself, about how to get a drink and how to smile to a tavern wench who would sit on his lap... Now, he had to prepare a report, a comprehensive and concise one. Even worse! He knew it, he felt it, that the report had to be good. Much depended on it and he gave his word that he would not fail.
'Blood and bloody ashes!' - he cursed again and reached for the quill.
The night was still young, but the news could go stale soon. They had to reach Erasm before the next day would end.
How exactly they would contact Shemkel? That he did not know. Still, it wasn't his task to understand how the orb and the geodes worked.
He had a task and he had a purpose. More than one...
The wildling girl slept peacefully, oblivious of the struggles that stormed in his soul.
Mahin dipped the quill in the inkwell and began to write...
