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The Brigand and the Scribe: Part V



It was late afternoon when Tutt returned to Tiverton’s tent. To say he looked slightly nervous would be an understatement. Not because of the possibility of his fellow brigands discovering his activities, but more so the idea of mastering the art of dance.

“Tutt” said Tiverton, rising to his feet. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“I thought about it!” said Tutt, removing Tiverton’s bonds.

Tiverton rubbed his wrists where the rope had left their mark. “You’re not going to carry me out of here in that are you?” he asked, gesturing to the familiar sack previously used.

“I’m sorry” said Tutt, “I can’t risk you getting eyeballed by one of the gang. You understand?”

Tiverton was less than enthusiastic about entering the sack. Escape had occurred to him on numerous occasions. In fact, he thought that when he emerged from the sack, he might make a break for it. But how would he deal with Tutt? Moreso, he would leave his money behind which was much less agreeable to him.

Having been carried through the encampment once more, Tiverton emerged from the sack and took in a deep breath of fresh air. They were in a field, surrounded by tall crops which provided a small amount of shelter for them from seeing eyes. Tutt was wearing his grotty waistcoat once more, his hair smoothed back and the cuts upon his shaved chin now healed. He was trying, that much could be said about him.

“So” said Tutt, scratching his side. “How do we begin?”

“With the basics” said Tiverton, “The bare bones. Naturally I cannot serve as a dancing partner and, quite frankly, I wouldn’t want to. But I can teach you how to move your feet along with a phantom Olivia.”

Tutt smiled awkwardly, nodding at the hobbits words and throwing the empty sack to one side. “Alright then” he said, “The bare bones.”

Tiverton chose to start with the dance, which was customary to the race of men, particularly Bree-folk who adopted mostly elegant footwork. They stood adjacent to each other, hopping and skipping, moving from side to side and presenting themselves with the odd bow of the head and nod to an invisible companion. Tutt began resembling a calf learning how to walk for the first time, but he was slowly learning and developing a faint glimmer of hope. Tiverton then moved onto the use of arms and posture, something which was certainly left wanting in the brigand.

“Keep your chin up, head held high and move gracefully” he said.

Tutt followed these instructions rather comically.

“Gracefully!” Tiverton said once more, kicking Tutt in the leg. “Right leg forward, left leg back! Now change!”

Tutt clearly had a problem coordinating both his arms and legs at the same time. He flapped them akin to a wounded bird, but his footwork was surprisingly adequate considering. They continued like this until foredawn, the sun slowly rising over the Bree-fields. Exhausted, both Tutt and Tiverton sat upon the grass.

“You know” said Tutt, “I hope all this effort is worth the trouble.”

Tiverton rubbed his forehead. “Trouble for who, I wonder.”

“You’re not the one who’s going to be dancing at the ball!” said Tutt.

“No, I’ll be the one heading home with my money” replied Tiverton.

“Ah, about that…” said Tutt. “I think it best if you accompanied me to the ball. You know, as support in case I should need it?”

“That was not part of our arrangement” said Tiverton, cooly.

“But it would be very much appreciated! I’ll make it worth your while, perhaps add some coin into that pouch of yours?”

Tiverton knew that he had no say in the matter. What was he to do? Deny Tutt and make a run for it? Or play the part of a mercenary and sell his services for coin. If anything, it was a further inconvenience, and certainly an unpleasant task.

“Very well” said Tiverton, “But I should warn you that my services cost dearly.”