She quickly finished her first bowl, and Maklavir kindly ordered her another, ignoring her feeble protests. Kendril was content with a mug of ale, which he drank slowly, his dark eyes watching Maklavir’s every move. Jade could feel the growing tension at the table, and decided that some conversation was better than the brooding silence. “So, Maklavir,” she said, fishing a potato around in her stew, “what brings you to the middle of the wilderness?”The man chuckled. “Nothing in particular. This is more of a stopover for me than anything else. I’m headed west towards Windspoint, looking for work.”“What kind of work?” asked Kendril quietly, the first words Jade could remember him speaking since the food had arrived. Maklavir grinned. “I’m a diplomat by trade, though I dabble a bit in local laws and treaties. Border disputes, inheritances, property deeds, that sort of thing. I look for work wherever I can find it.” He took a bit of stew, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief.
