Pawn of Wizards (Closed for Se7en)

Magic.
Even the mere word was not allowed in Anya's home. Her father had banned it from even being uttered in his presence, a demand he had made years ago; when Anya was merely 7 years old. She had found something. Something that left her in utter awe, a thing that haunted her dreams and thoughts ever since that day.

A book. A wonderful, leatherbound tome. A clasp against its cover, heavy and tight to its edges. It had taken a bit for Anya to manage to pull it open with her tiny fingers, but the feeling that overcame her the moment the words inside were revealed- Incredible. Amazing. Something she would never, ever forget. Something she wanted to know so much more about. To learn everything this book had to offer, that it seemed to be drawing her in to read....

"ANYA!" The harsh voice of her father barked out behind the young girl, a frightened squeak leaving her as she slammed the book closed and spun around on the floor, her eyes wide and frightened as he stared at her. A gaze full of anger and horror, a stare he held upon her as he rushed over to pluck the tome from the floor. "How dare you go through the belongings of your father! The things you touch, child- They are not toys!" He pounded his fist against the ornate cover to punctuate his words, continuing to stare her down. "You need to understand... There are things..."

The way his voice changed then...
It was another thing she would never forget...

"There are things in my past, child, that I do not want to harm you. The decisions made in what feels to be a lifetime ago. Actions taken by a man I no longer am. Things that..." He paused, shaking his head as he touched the book once again. "...Other influences placed within my mind. There are those who I have harmed, Anya. Things I cannot be forgiven..." The book was quickly shoved back into the chest where she had found it, her father leaning down upon the lid to close it and staring her firmly in the eyes. "Swear to me. Swear to me that you will never touch that chest again, Anya."

"I... I swear, Poppa." Her tiny voice was trembling, frightened by the actions and words brought out from her father.

She had promised. Sworn.
She stayed clear of the chest, though the glances given to her father's room daily, the curious thoughts that returned to her. The call of the book. The ideas that came to her. The sound she thought she heard in her head- a voice. Calling to her.

A true Call from the Book.
Impossible.

But she continued to hear it, day after day, night after night. Gentle whispers, sometimes screaming demands that filled her ears. It drew her to her father's door, staring longingly to that box, knowing it was still there. Day after day, month after month... Year after year.

He knew.
The call came from somewhere else at various times. The shelves beside his bed. Behind the cabinets of the kitchen. Buried beneath the hay of the horses. He knew she could find it, for it always changed.
A freshly dug patch of dirt met her one morning, after returning from the market. Her father told her it was merely a tree he had planted, but she knew otherwise. The book. And its call continued, more pleading than ever. Freedom. Release.

The sound was overwhelming. She had to, she simply had to... She waited until her father slept days later, taking to the night's moonlight to guide her as she dug with her bare hands. Piles of dirt, her dress soiled and her fingers embedded with grime- but she had it, wrapped tightly in a cloth and saved from the stain of earth.

That same rush as when she was a child, returning to her once more over 10 years later.

Magic.
Spells.
She knew what this book could do. That there was power hidden within it, and that she merely needed to learn how to harness it.

Her father had deemed it evil. No, not the book itself. What it had done to him. But he had said it was so long ago... She was not like him. The book had begged her to help. Surely something that could plea so sorrowfully couldn't be evil.

"Be kind with me," She whispered softly, cradling it tightly to her chest. "Be kind with me, and I shall treat you in the same manner... Help me to redeem my father from the sins he feels he has weighing him so heavily..."

Night after night, she returned to the barn, trying to learn the spells within those pages as her father slept. Complicated things, things that caused after effects that she didn't understand- small fires, burns to her fingers, marks upon her skin; things she tried hard to hide from others, especially her father. But the overwhelming joy she felt when she finally mastered two of them; a small levitation spell upon an apple, and a continuous small flame that she could keep going without burning her if she concentrated.

But she wanted more.
She needed to learn more.
What she needed... was a Master.

The thoughts continued to pour through her mind as she concentrated on her flame, a frown slowly taking her features the longer she let her thoughts shift. The sudden flare of the flame caused her to snap back into concentration, but far too late to stop the fire from spreading- the hay quickly catching fire, the flames overtaking the walls. She screamed out at that, trying to find some way- any way- to stop it from fully burning the structure.

Her father came to her aid, a lie spewed out about a dropped lantern as she came to check upon the horse, a promise to repay every lost piece of food taken in the fire sworn to him.
Magic would not be enough to pull off such a thing. Money was not an available thing, as well.

Thievery became her only option, using the little levitation spell she had taken up so well to pilfer coin pouches from people in the market. It was working rather well, for a time. No one had yet to really notice what she was doing. It was not the way she intended to use the book, but... Even the greatest of heroes had to make a few wrongs to find their final righteous act, did they not?

Due to absence, Se7en has been replaced. Noon is taking over his role.

There was a cloaked, haggard figure entering the town. The town had been called Valleyton once, and was still called that way by some, although most now called it Vallyford. The figure who entered town, leading the horse drawing his cart, was only one of many who would be wandering around the market square at mid-day. He was stocking up on supplies, so he brought plenty of silver and gold, weighing down his purse. He was aware that the obvious weight of his purse might make him a target for thievery. He just didn't give a damn.

Urien was tired. He was exhausted, in fact. His previous excursion had taken quite a bit out of him. His latest confrontation had taken quite a bit out of him, and it had still proven fruitless. Oh, sure, the kingdom remained safe for the moment, but he hadn't been able to finish Kovor off, only to drive him away. So Kovor's threat remained, and he would try again. Urien could only hope that he could remain hidden for now until he recovered his strength.

He thought he had learned his lesson already. You could not defend everything, everywhere, not when there were truly insidious threats to be faced. Maybe if he just let these monster ravage through the countryside for a while, he might find better opportunities to pounce on his foes. Perhaps, for once, someone else could take the responsibility of defending the kingdom. But Urien felt the weight of promises made in the past pressing down on him. So many promises. And some of them unkept. That one, niggling thought in the back of his mind, of a debt that was yet to repaid, from which he had turned away long ago. The dark look in his face seemed to drive the peddlers around him to offer their wares elsewhere. At least the street was clear enough for his cart to pass.

Well, he'd keep his head low for a while. He was loading his cart up as much as he could. 30 pounds of salted pork. 20 heads of lettuce. 6 barrels of wheat, and 6 more of barley. Urien didn't plan on leaving his hide-out for a while. He'd need days to fully recuperate. Even then, being hidden was the best defense to avoid becoming a target. That had been his reasoning twenty years ago, and the logic was still sound. After all, there was only one of him. He would never defeat all of his enemies if they knew where to attack them. And they didn't even have to bother hiding from him, either-that was the frustrating thing. They all knew he wouldn't provoke a direct confrontation. Not when he was on his own.

All of this was helping contribute to Urien's foul mood. He hated hiding, but it was the only sound strategy. He'd paid attention in enough war councils over enough years to know how to avoid defeat against a superior force. But when he stepped past an alley, all thoughts of hiding momentarily fled. He could sense someone very nearby was using magic...and it was directed at him. Kovor! He must have been followed, somehow...

But there was no sign of him, nor any hint of such malicious energy. What he did see was a young woman-a girl, really-hidden in the shadows, a very intent look upon her face as she stared down at his waist, where his coinpurse was shifting. She was so focused on her little trick that she didn't even realize he was looking directly at her. Clearly some amateur witch, practicing tricks she'd learned. So rare to find such a talent. And such a waste. He began stomping off toward her, which made her eyes go wide as she realized she'd been spotted. She turned to run, but Urien really didn't have the patience. With a wave of his hand, he flung her up against the wall, ignoring the squeaked sound she choked out before he stood before her, examining her.

"Now what am I to do with you, little thief girl?" he mused.

She had seen many pickpockets caught in her time so far on the paths of the market, whether it was young children who were merely struck and scolded, or grown folk with much harsher punishment. The King's Guard sent for, or in some cases, merely weapons drawn and the offending hands taken as repayment. Anya wasn't quite certain on which side of this she would fall, but did know that her own hands were not something she was willing to risk losing.

But she had made a promise. And a promise she would keep.
Her book became quite useful, helping to pilfer off the satchels of coins from unsuspecting patrons with levitation spells or causing the seams of the pouches to give way if they were too far off. Of course, this was a troublesome one to attempt, as those other eager fingers were simply waiting for a chance to steal someone else's work.

The phrase honor among thieves did not seem to have settled upon their ears at any point.

Her efforts had run for nearly a week now, and had left her with a decent start to her repayment to her father. Perhaps this wasn't as difficult as she had first feared. So few people seemed to even notice their pouches had vanished, and the small count that did catch that it had left their side seemed to blame their own absent minded actions. To see things like this almost started to lessen the guilt that lingered on the young woman for her use of magic and pilfering in such a way- but what other choice did she have? She tried to keep her thievery to those who seemed to not notice it the most, those buying such extravagant things that perhaps losing the coins would not mean so much.

It helped, again, to lessen her guilt.

Such as that man there... So many items, so well stocked and set in his actions. He certainly would not notice if she were to simply pluck his purse from this distance. Crouching down a bit further behind the stall providing her shelter, Her focus remained on the pouch of fabric, mumbling softly to herself the small incantation to begin her work. Still learning, still practicing. The more she could use the book, the better she would understand. Lost in her concentration, she barely noticed anything else around her- until she felt a stare upon her.

Someone-

HIM!
He was looking DIRECTLY at her- and now moving towards her as well!

Paling and giving a tiny quick cry of fear, Anya hastily got to her feet, trying to plot a route back to her other spots about the market that might provide cover enough to avoid him and-

"Nah!" Anya grimaced in pain as something shoved her hard against the wall, her eyes widening even more as the man came to stand before her. Shaking and frightened, she stared at him as he eyed her over, struggling to find her breath. With his own words managing to leave first, her fear grew even more.

Images of the young men and women with their fingers, hands, lopped off at the wrists...

"Please, sir, forgive me, forgive me, please!," She pleaded, shaking her head as she tried to contain her tears. "I did not know, I didn't! if I had known you were a wizard, I would not have- I mean- I shouldn't at all, I know, but my father- Sir, please, we have nothing anymore and I just need to..."

Too frightened to finish now, she simply went silent, letting her words run off with the lost thought, staring up at the man who held her without a touch against her as he stared down upon her. Finally, she simply opened her hands, letting her palms rest openly towards him as she grimaced and turned her head away. "Do it, then! Just take them and- and be done with it!," She choked out quickly, trying to sound much braver than she was currently feeling.

Urien stepped in closer to the thief he'd caught, examining her closer. His first glance had made her seem a young woman, but a closer look at her face told that she was truly a girl, by her experience. Her eyes had no age to them at all, no hardness that came from years, no wisdom from her life's experience. Some young brat who'd discovered she could do a few tricks, no doubt, and the best use she came up with it was robbing people as they passed by in the market. He gave her a scowl...and then he saw her eyes well up with fear, as she started gibbering.

It took him a second to realize what she was saying as she thrust her hands out at him. "Do it, then! Just take them and- and be done with it!" He finally realized that she expected him to lop off her hands. The made him raise his eyebrow reflexivly. Do the people here really persist with such a barbaric punishment? It was an eye-opening thought, that he was so out of touch not to realize it. When he'd lived in the capital, the legal system was more sophisticated. Criminals there weren't convicted, much less sentenced, without a trial. King Penderon had been a believer in justice....which was Urien remained loyal to him, even to this day. He started to realize just how far he had come to find himself standing before this pick pocket.

He brushed his hood back, and then let his dark hair fall down across his shoulders. Then he grabbed one of the hands held out in front of him, palm open, and turned it over. They were young hands, sure, but they showed a few callouses from having been worked, and signs of recent burns. Perhaps she wasn't the spoiled brat that he had supposed...but then, it was possible she had earned these by climbing trees and getting into other mischief. She would need a lesson, regardless. "As you wish, then." Uren's hand went down to his side, freeing his dagger from its sheathe. He pulled it out and let her see the sun catching off the blade before he grabbed her wrist. "There are ways to earn money. Yet you chose to take money from others, those to whom it rightfully belonged. There is a price to be paid." He pressed the sharp edge of his blade against her wrist, letting her feel the sharp edge. She gave a soft sound, and he looked up at her eyes, huge with fear. He twitched her wrist slightly, enough to give her a small scratch on the sharp blade, then pulled it away.

"But it is not that."

He sheathed his dagger and then let his spell away, dropping her to her feet. His hand reached out to rest on her shoulder lightly, a simple gesture to let her know she wasn't free, yet. Urien could hear the noise of the town traffic passing by as he stood in the alley with this girl, the rest of the world seemingly content to ignore what he was doing. It seemed a fitting metaphor for the past 20 years of his life. "But here is my problem, little thief girl. I suspect I am not the first person whose purse you lifted. If you were some common thief, I'd drag you to a magistrate and have you locked away. But you are some budding little magician, so I don't know how long you'd be held. So the question remains...what am I to do with you?"

Urien gave a resigned shake of his head. Why should he even both with this little pickpocket? She'd made his day so damned inconvenient. He couldn't just leave her free to operate, but there was no one else around to whom he could entrust her justice. It suddenly occurred to him why the idea of simply lopping off a thief's wrist was appealing....but convenience was not justice. He muttered to himself, "Couldn't find a better way to waste your soul than with such mischief, could you?" The girl heard him, and gave him a very confused look. That finally connected things for him. "You really don't know anything, do you?"

She didn't realize the dangers of Magic. She must have no idea what she was truly doing. Which meant that she'd never had a teacher...Urien reached out with his senses to gauge her potential. His light blue eyes studied her face, her eyes, taking in her dirty clothes and worn shoes. She felt...strong. At least, potentially. She might develop some skill. He paused for a second, wetting his lips, considering. Is it time for me to take an Apprentice? Perhaps this chance meeting could prove fortuitous for him. Besides, this would be the only way he could ensure that justice was truly served.

"Very well. There's no way to repay what you've stolen to those who have lost it. But you still have a debt to repayed. Since you must pay it off somehow, you will do so by working for me." Urien pressed his palm against her forehead, then, muttering a soft incantation. She would feel the burn as though she had been branded, though her skin was unmarked. "This...will allow me to find you, should you think you can simply run off. You will be coming with me. Gather your possessions, and meet me on the road south of town in one hour." His hand pulled away from her. "Before you run off, little thief girl, tell me your name." He would need to call her something besides, "Little Thief Girl."

The way he stared at her as she awaited her punishment made it that much worse. What was he doing? Anya swallowed down, looking up at him as he drew back the hood that had shielded so much more of his gaze. His entire face exposed to her now, the stern hold of his expression... She felt ill, even more than before. She had made a horrendous mistake, she was absolutely certain of that now.

His sudden grasp of her wrist pulled a tiny yelp from her lips, Anya biting back anything further by sending her teeth into her lower lip and cringing, turning her head away and waiting for the pain that was coming. Shaking as he merely inspected her hand, she slowly peered back, hesitant to see why he had done nothing yet.

Terrible timing. His blade held up, showing the sharpness in the light, the man's gaze set upon her before pushing that sharp edge down against her flesh as he spoke. She could actually feel the blood rush from her head, her eyes widening as she looked back up to him in fear.

Testing it down against her, just enough to dent her skin, start to break through- Twisting her hand and causing a small gash to come to her wrist. She yelped out, a sound nearly turning to a scream as she wrenched her eyes closed. He was going to, he was really going to-

"But it is not that."

"H-Huh?" Her eyes reopened slowly, wide and frightened as she glanced back at him, suddenly falling harshly onto her backside and pressing herself against the wall. Her tensing returned as he rested his hand upon her, a heavy hold that kept her attention focused upon him. Hesitantly rubbing her wrist with her other hand, she continued to stare up at him, hoping that he didn't suddenly have intentions of taking some other part of her aside from a hand...

He seemed lost in thought for a moment, simply clutching at her, contemplating- something?

Suddenly speaking, his voice somehow both soft on the air but heavy upon her ears as he questioned her past experiences in the market. A guilted glance was given to the ground beside her with his guess to her previous thefts, no words managing to find their way to her lips as he contemplated her.

Budding magician? She was certainly trying. Though to correct him on her abilities even possibly giving her escape from a cell... She certainly wasn't going to bring that up. "Sir, please, forgive me, " She finally managed to whisper, shaking her head slowly.

Do with her?
She looked back up to him, confused by this query- and doubly so when he asked on the wasting of her soul. What did he even mean by that? An indignant huff left her upon the seemingly mocking question that followed, glaring down the path and folding her arms over her chest. "I know enough, sir," She replied curtly, frowning as he continued to study her. The look he was giving her seemed to be judging, questioning. It certainly didn't make her feel any more comfortable around the man. "Though your concern over my soul in regards to magic is certainly not needed... I am already damned for my thefts. Magic should not make things much worse."

His comments on her debts owed brought a soured look to her face, glancing back up at him as he stated how his would be repaid. "Work for you? Wait, sir, I-" Her words cut short as he placed his palm upon her forehead, taken back by the sudden curious action... crying out again as a sudden pain came to her skin. "Gah! What- What are you doing?!" Trying to pull away, she stared up at him with widened eyes, once again scared and confused by this man as she gingerly touched her forehead. "You've BURNED me-!"

But there was nothing there...
Still toying with it, looking up to him as he explained, she was even more dumbfounded at what he claimed he had done to her.

More of his magic.
Then why was he so concerned on her own use of it if he used it so freely himself? There was more to this than what she thought, wasn't there?

Her breaths grew a bit heavier as he gave her instructions, frowning slightly and nodding. "Hour. Road... south. Y-Yes." Her fingers crept higher as his palm slipped away, still trying to be sure there was nothing truly left upon her skin. No mark at all. So it was as he said? How had he even-

Her attention shot back up as he asked for her name, taking a deep breath and hesitating. One thing her father had always told her.... A name has power. It was a funny thing, his demand to keep magic out of her life- but he continued to bring up things such as that. On what could be used against someone...

This man had bound her to him. To lie would only make things worse for her at this point.

"Anya," She finally replied, watching him. "My name is Anya, sir." Slowly getting to her feet, using the wall to stabilize herself, she eased a few steps back from him, pointing off behind her. "M-My things... I'll... The path, I swear it. I'll be back within the hour..." A little nod was given with that, her feet stumbling to aide her in her rush back to her home.

Her father was already gone. Off with projects of his own, efforts that were not done in the same methods of his child, certainly. A sudden guilt and shame fell over her as she grabbed for clothing and various belongings, stuffing them into her pack. She would need to leave him... Something.... Some way of telling him that she was-

She paused, spotting the cause of almost this peering out from beneath her bed. The book. The thing that led her to so much trouble... Yet, she couldn't bring herself to leave it behind. If he were to find it in here, he would never forgive her... Hastily snatching it up, she buried it deeply into the pack, throwing it closed and slinging it over her shoulder.

A note. Of some sort. She had to.

Forgive me, father. I need to redeem myself. You're a good man and don't deserve to be burdened with my wrongs. I'll return, hopefully. I'll make you proud of me. I'll be just like you, some day.

Leaving it upon the table, she was soon rushing back to meet with the man who waited for her.

The mark. Unseen but certainly felt... It stung even now, her father's home so far from the main streets of the market. She had to get back...

"My name is Anya, sir." Urien watched her as she rose to her feet a bit unsteadily, clearly unnerved by what had happened to her in just the last ten minutes. Of course, she was foolishly dabbling in things she didn't understand just to leech coins away from strangers, she really needed to have been more prepared for the consequences. Was I so naive, so long ago? I feel as though I never was a child. His youth was long, long past. That thrilling belief that nothing bad could hurt him, his disbelief in his own mortality...he remembered that there was a time he'd felt like that also. Anya pointed, seeming to indicate the direction where she dwelt, as he kept his intense gaze on her. "M-My things... I'll... The path, I swear it. I'll be back within the hour..." Urien gave her something of a sinister smile and nodded. "I'm sure that you will."

He let his eyes follow her as she stumbled out of the alleyway and began pushing through the market crowd. He sensed her moving off in approximately the direction she had indicated was in the fact the direction she planned together. If she was capable of deception, Urien doubted that she was clever enough to point the direction she intended to flee just in case he could sense her, in an attempt to give herself a head start. If she was that clever, she was likely to show up regardless. He went back to his cart to finish the rest of his supply shopping. It was the very beginning of harvest season, which meant that he hadn't really needed to come all the way to Valleyton for supplies. But he preferred for those who lived closer to him to have no idea that he existed. It was simpler that way.

He led his cart through the market to pick up the last supplies he needed. He had already stocked up on salt before he had arrived. Flour was obvious, a lot of it. Yeast. Radishes, and leeks. Lots of carrots as well. Those had plenty of uses in potions, as well as being an important part of his diet. One of the more mundane things his own master had taught him was that carrots helped the night vision. Well, Urien found it useful to be able to see well at night. Having thus purchased all the supplied he needed, he finally led the cart south, outside of the town, making sure to water his horse. He scratched him between the ears, a gesture of gratitude for hauling all this weight over the many miles they still had to travel.

Urien smiled. Well, he had found himself a new apprentice, so he wouldn't be alone in his isolation now. She seemed like a nice girl, after all-she was clearly very innocent of the world, surprised at having been caught stealing, and equally surprised that she would be punished. A small girl in a big world...

Urien felt a shocking moment of tenderness. Why was he thinking kindly of a stupid little thief who had tried to rob him thirty minutes ago? Sure, she had some sad story, some excuse she'd tried to give him. They all did. They just want to live in a better world, and it's not fair. Well of course it wasn't fair...but it could be just. If it was up to Urien, it would be. So why feel sorry for this girl?

But he knew. As soon as the thought had occurred to him, he was already coming up with a plan. He was going to use her. Urien was already feeling guilty about it. But he had few other plans. How many innocent lives were already at risk simply because he could not protect them? He'd done the math in the past. Would he trade one almost-innocent girl to remove threats that affect the whole kingdom? Urien would, and he knew that he had to make that exchange every single time. She would repay her debt to society many times over, but it was just.

He sensed that she was returning, heading back this direction. He pulled his hood back over his head, preparing for the road, and climbing onto the seat. His hands took the reins of his cart, and he gave a gentle tug to keep his horse from lurching off. He was eager to be going, unsure why they'd paused here on the road, where there was nothing around. "Easy..."

Urien didn't even look up when he felt approaching from the rear moments later. He merely spoke up. "Hurry up and put your pack away, Anya. You can ride in the back, sitting on top of the radishes. We have a long way to travel." Urien realized that he was likely taking her far away from the only home she had ever known, but he hardened his heart. He didn't have it in him to speak words of comfort to her now.

Anya had contemplated running off. Merely bolting through the crowds of the market, trying to hide away as best she could in the throngs of people that filled it on such a busy day. She was certain she could blend in well enough. She had hidden away from others so easily with that plan before, sneaking through the lines to avoid both those she stole from and others upset with her for taking their mark.

But she didn't.
She stayed upon the path, stopping only for a moment to watch the people in the bustling mess before her. It nearly reminded her of the chickens her father kept; rushing about in one direction to turn and run back the other, shouting out nonsense that seemed so important to them alone. It made her realize why stealing from them felt so easy and harmless... None of them ever seemed to notice a thing around them unless it was directly placed before them, made pointedly meant for them alone.

No one ever noticed the little things...
Well. HE had. He had noticed her easily.
Of course, he was different than them...

Readjusting the bag upon her shoulder, she took a deep breath before starting on her way down the path to meet him. It was odd, how her bag felt it was actually growing heavier since leaving the house. As though it were pulling her back, begging not to leave. Perhaps her own inward wish to stay home, ignore the man's command?

But he had said he would find her. That press against her head-* she didn't doubt him in the least on that. It had even felt strange to merely wander off to get home, she was certain that he would find her if she tried to get any further off than that.

There was also what he had said that still rested so heavily on her mind. A better way to waste your soul... The way he had said it. He wasn't speaking in the ways of a religious man. He had meant that in some other way, a way she didn't understand, especially with his added annoyance with her over it. What exactly had that meant?

She saw him now, just outside the main walkways of the town, waiting with his horse and purchases. So many things... How much could one man need at a time? Approaching slowly, she jumped a bit as he called to her without even turning around. Glancing to the cart, she took off her pack, swallowing down as she nodded to the man not even watching. "Y-Yes sir." Sliding the bag up behind one of the crates, she climbed up into the cart, settling onto the pile of radishes and clutching onto the basket beside her. Facing away from him, watching the town for a moment- briefly wondering where in those crowds her own father had been hiding.

She wished now she had actually gone to say goodbye to him.It would have been a foolish thing, and was certain he would have fought with her over it- especially with the reasons why she was going... But it was certainly the better option over being arrested, and certainly better than her hands lopped off by anyone else catching her in the act. Another hard sigh left her as she forced her gaze away from the town, instead staring down at the minimal spot of the cart's floor that could be found between all his goods. She just needed to... refocus. Stop thinking on all that and-

The sudden thump of her bag falling of the cart caused her to raise her head, scrambling over the baskets and bushels to jump off and fetch it. "Sorry! I'm sorry- I don't.. I really had tucked it away, I know I did!,:" She apologized quickly, holding it tightly as she hastily climbed back up. Keeping it to rest in her lap this time, she settled in once again, holding on tightly to the baskets and glancing over her shoulder to him. "Sir? Would.. Um... may I know your name? Or.. or at least what I should call you?" She tried to give a faint smile, hoping to find some point where he would see her as more than just the Stupid Little Thief Girl. "Please?"

Her bag started to slip from her lap once again, her hand slapping out to grab the strap and yank it back to her. How had this thing gotten to be so heavy?! It felt almost.. hot... on her lap now, as well. Glancing upward to the sky, shielding her eyes as she glanced around, she noticed how few clouds blocked the sun... Well, then, that made sense. The hot day heating the bag.... Yes, that would add to the warmth.

"Lots of vegetables," She noted, picking up one of the carrots from the basket beside her, playing with it briefly before setting it back down. "I can cook, sir. I'm quite good. Well, I think. Father never really complained. Laughed at me for crying when he killed the chickens, though. I suppose I shouldn't have named them all." She glanced at him over her shoulder again, noticing how focused he seemed to be on the trek back to where ever it was they were headed, a slight frown coming to her lips before looking back to the floor.

Maybe it was better to stay quiet.

The southern road out of town made a gradual turn toward the east, though it was subtle enough most travelers didn't really recognize it until they had traveled several miles and found the sun in their face, or at their backs in the afternoon, as it was now. Urien drove the cart on in silence. The pace was slow, as fast as his horse would take this heavily loaded cart with her two passengers. He rode in silence, falling into a short meditative state that he commonly entered, to clear his mind of thoughts. It was helpful to keep his mind sharp. Urien was used to spending a lot of time alone, and he couldn't always think and rethink through his plans and objectives without too much second-guessing of himself, creating doubt. He was used to finding a center. For the first few miles, his passenger remained quiet enough avoid intruding.

That quiet was broken when he heard something drop off. He stopped the cart, much to the dismay of the poor carthorse, who had finally gotten content to moving along the road and was irritated at now having to stop. At first he thought she'd fallen off, or kicked one of his grain barrels off the cart. But then she quickly stammered out something about having dropped her pack. He waited until she climbed back on the cart, and he flicked the reins to begin the cart moving again. But she was still speaking.

"Sir? Would.. Um... may I know your name? Or.. or at least what I should call you?" He glanced back at her. Had he not told her that already? He thought he had...or perhaps he hadn't. He'd gotten her name, Anya. Anya who would be his new apprentice.

Well, whether he'd told her or not, she did need something to call him. "Urien. My name is Urien." He gave up on his meditating and turned to study his passenger, regarding her momentarily. She seemed to be taking it well enough, having been forced to leave her home. She deserved worse, being a thief, but she would start to learn better. She was babbling at him.

"I can cook, sir. I'm quite good. Well, I think. Father never really complained. Laughed at me for crying when he killed the chickens, though. I suppose I shouldn't have named them all."

"Cooking, yes. That's well enough. It is time consuming, so it will be a help to share duties. I've gotten used to living alone, you see." Hopefully that would explain his lack of social graces. Urien knew he was being rude...but she had attempted to steal his purse, so she could deal with a bit of brusqueness. Better than being tossed into some dank little sweatbox of prison and dangled by her toes, or whatever other barbaric punishments they enforced in that quarter. Did they really dismember thieves? That was distasteful.

But if he was going to take this girl as his apprentice, he might have to work people skills. It would help if they got along at least a little bit, since she was going to be living in his house and learning from him. He gave her a small smile and then edged over in the seat at the front of the cart. "Here, there's a little bit of room for you to squeeze in, Anya, if you'd prefer not to sit on our radishes." He made sure to use her name, if only as a reminder that he actually knew it.

"The trip will take us until tomorrow evening. We should make it home before dusk. The road passes near a stream where I'm hoping to make camp tonight." Urien glanced at her once again before returning his eyes to the road. "I know you have questions, but please, save them for this evening. We'll have plenty of time to talk then, quietly. For now, tell me about yourself, you said your father was a farmer?"

He half-listened to her as he drove the cart, engaging in small talk for the next few hours. It useful to help her settle in a little bit. He said very little about himself until the sun was dipping down below the horizon behind them, and they sky overhead was a purplish haze. They had reached their campsite.

"Here we are. I camped here on my way in, two nights ago. Here, you see where I built my fire. There are still some logs. Anya, see if you can gather some kindling. Please." He added the polite term almost as an afterthought. Well, I am at least trying, damn it. He wondered if he was doing it to soothe his conscience about the fact that he was going to manipulate her.