The Highwayman

[Castellan]

Stitches turned to Adham at the question, who only shrugs. Stitches turns to Abigail and does the same. "Money is good."


"Well said." Adham gives Stitches a small smile who gives him a bright one in return. "We owe some people for our new horses." He clarifies, obviously unconcerned with her knowing. "And money is good."

 

[Binnie Ryman]

Abigail nodded softly. She decide she wouldn't ask anymore anymore questions. She kept her head down and her arms wrapped around her body.


She was beginning to think these men were right when they said they wouldn't hurt her. But she was terrified to be in their presence.

 

[Castellan]

Adham listens to the uneven road move beneath the wheels, pulled into a state of complete relaxation by it. He didn't hear much else for what felt like too long, but it had no adverse effect on him. The cart was silent with thought and sleep, making the band seem much less like the brutual highwaymen they were.


(I'm going to call it for tonight . I'll talk to you tomorrow.)

 

[Binnie Ryman]

Abigail felt a few more tears come to her eyes and slide down her cheeks. She wanted to be back with her family, or at least her father and brother, the only two people in the world she felt actually cared about. Despite the fact that she loved her mother, she sometimes doubted that her mother loved her.

 

[Castellan]

When the wagon came to a stop almost a half hour later, the men started to pile out, taking the stolen items with them. Adham gets out close to last, gesturing Stitches to come with him.


The large man brightens and gets up, taking Abigail by the arm. "Come on." He urges, tugging on her. "This way. This way."


(I'm going to be a busy today, so my responses are going to be a bit scarce.)

 

[Binnie Ryman]

Abigail stayed still for a minute before following him out of the cart.


"P-please," Abigail stuttered nervously and scared in a voice that was barely above a whisper. "I, I'm not s-s-sure my mother w-will e-even pay what you w-want. T-there w-would be no point i-in keeping me."

 

[Castellan]

"There will be no point in a month." Adham says simply, turning on his heel and walking off. "If your mother refuses..." He shrugs.


Their destination seems to have been in town, the last one they passed by the masonry of the road beneath the wagon. The men are entering a tavern by a back door, but a few stay by the horses to tend to them. Children are even in the windows looking out from the second floor.


Adham turns to Stitches as he gets out of the wagon. "Put her upstairs."

 

[Binnie Ryman]

The tears had stopped falling from Abigail's face, yet her cheeks still had stains from the tears on them. Her heart was pounding fast and she was still scared half to death. She wanted nothing more than to be home right now, with her father and brother. Yet, she knew how slim the odds were that she would see them again. Her mother barely cared about her, no matter how much Abigail loved her, and was probably grateful Abigail was out of her life, for a month at least. Probably forever since she most likely wouldn't pay to have her released. Still, she knew she needed to have faith that her mother would bring the money, or perhaps her father and brother would persuade her to give them the money, or maybe even her father and brother would go behind her mother's back and bring the money. She hoped they would do that, for she had little hope that her mother would pay the ransom.

 

[Castellan]

Stitches seemed almost happy to escort her, pulling her along without the force he had displayed before. "Upstairs is the nice quarters." He says to her, brandishing a toothy grin. He notices her tear marks and gives her a frown in return. "Don't worry." The words almost blend together in his voice. "I'm sure the money will come. We'll be nice to you 'till it does." It seems odd an leg of his stature would even want to quell or even recognize her fears, but Stitches seemed hellbent on helping her feel at home. "Just need some money. For the horses. It's nothing personal." His toothy grin reappears, coupled by an almost child like laugh.

 

[Binnie Ryman]

Abigail nodded.


"I, I don't think m-m-my mother w-will be bringing the, the money," Abigail stuttered sadly. "W-what will h-happen if the mo-money isn't paid?"


Abigail was scared of the answer. She was scared her mother wouldn't bring the money.

 

[Castellan]

Stitches brushes her off, giving her a wave of his large hand as he leads her towards the stairs. "Nuttin'." He says, his voice mumbling his words. "No one paid for Adham and he ended up staying." Stitches brings a hand up to the grey eyed leader. His eyes wander Abigail and Stitches, looking curious as to why he's being pointed at. "He's nice." Stitches finishes off, giving Abigail a wide smile.

 

[Binnie Ryman]

"W-what do you m-m-mean no one p-p-paid for him?" Abigail asked quietly and nervously, yet curiously. She hoped se hadn't spoken out of turn, yet Stitches seemed like the type I person to get mad at curiosity, yet she didn't know him well enough to tell.

 

[Castellan]

Stitches shrugs his shoulders. "No one showed up." He urges her still towards the stairs. "He was a boy. They had the money. We don't take no one that don't." He seems almost to not mind what he's saying as if he's not giving away personal information. "He won't let nothin' 'appen to you if that happens, Miss."

 

[Binnie Ryman]

Abigail's fear subsided just the tiniest bit and she wiped a stray tear from her eye as she followed him towards the stairs.


"S-s-sir," Abigail stuttered, "p-please, I, I'm not worth anything. M-my mother w-won't pay. Y-you won't gain anything from this."

 

[Castellan]

Stitches shook his head. "Can't let you go. I'll be in trouble. If she don't pay in a month, Adham will talk to you." He opens the door to a room, what looks like an inn room, completely barren of people and anything but a desk, with a candle and writing materials, and a bed. The window is barred, but otherwise, the room looks completely normal. "You can have this one." Stitches lets out one of his childish giggles from deep in his throat. "This room is my favorite."

 

[Binnie Ryman]

The bareness of the room didn't bother Abigail. What did bother her was the bars on the window. Though, now, she really did feel like the prisoner she always felt like. She hated the true feeling of it. She felt more tears prick her eyes and the tears began falling again.

 

[Castellan]

Stitches gives her a surprised look, blinking his round eyes. "What's the matter, Miss?" He asks, rushing to help her. "Did you hurt yourself?"


(Plot twist, less of a prisoner here than at home lol.)

 

[Binnie Ryman]

"N-no," Abigail said quietly, lying terribly. "I, I'm fine. T-thank you."


She said the "thank you," sincerely, happy that someone was being nice to her, something not many people did.


(Yes lol)

 

[Castellan]

Stitches gives her his unintentionally goofy smile and goes to leave the room. "If you need anythin', just call." He says before closing the door. It bolts on the other side, but he seems to struggle with it for a moment before it becomes unbolted. As the door comes unopened again, Stitches is backed up a few paces away from it and Adham stands in the doorway. He gestures Stitches to follow him inside before closing the door.


"Would you like anything to pass the time?" His even voice asks. He looks as if he's scrutinizing her with his eyes, as if to wonder what she's thinking. "We don't have much, but I figure it will get rather tiresome to be in here without something to do."


Stitches look almost ready to bolt at Abigail's answer, shifting his weight to one foot to go off the moment she gives it.

 

[Binnie Ryman]

Abigail shook her head.


"N-no, thank you," said Abigail. "I, I think I'll get by with the writing m-materials."


She had never told anyone how much she loved to write stories, especially not her mother, knowing she would probably scold Abigail for doing something she considered quite unladylike. Her mother would never approve of Abigail writing as a career, no matter how much she thought she be good at it.

 

[Castellan]

The ends of Adham's mouth turn up in a handsome smile. "Well, if you need anything else, more paper perhaps, don't hesitate to call." Adham turns his eyes to Stitches, noticing that his depart. "Dinner is in an hour, if you're hungry. I'll bring some up for you." He stops and watches her for a moment. "Is something on your mind?"

 

[Binnie Ryman]

"N-no," Abigail lied quietly and nervously. "I, I'm fine, a-sir. And, I, I don't w-want any dinner, thank y-you, sir."


Abigail looked down with a sad, lost look on her face.

 

[Castellan]

Adham gives her a plain frown, obviously not buying her words. "As you wish... Please don't be afraid to change your mind." He leaves, closing the door behind him. With a quick movement, he locks the door and lets out a sigh.


Stitches is waiting for him. "No dinner?"


Adham shakes his head. "Make some for her. I'll bring it up myself." He starts towards the stairs, the ogre of a man at his heels.

 

[Binnie Ryman]

Once he was gone, Abigail sat on the bed and started crying. She had always longed for a life away from her home, but she didn't want it to happen like this. She wanted to be in the arms of her brother, who would tell her that everything was all right. Luckily, these men seemed to treat her with kindness and wouldn't do anything to her.

 

[Castellan]

The first floor of the tavern was filled with every manner of man, some wallowing in one section by themselves and others were loudly playing cards, screaming and the like at their luck. They didn't seem to pay much mind to Adham or Stitches as they entered the room, a few greeted him and got their own greeting in return. Adham entered his own quarters and sat down at his desk to write the terms of Abigail's ransom down like he had done everything else in case of his sudden demise. Writing receipts had always been therapeutic to him, even when he was a child. It was monotonous and simple, but that only gave him time to think while doing something productive. His mind was wandering with all sorts of odd thoughts brought on by how similar Abigail's situation was to his own. He hardly thought about his parents, despite the fact he used the business practices they had taught him every day, but seeing Abigail so well off with her parents had made him curious as to what his life would have become.


Stitches saw the opportunity to relax as well and quickly went over to the wood working supplies Adham had kept for him. Stitches had a very short attention span, making it hard for him to do much of anything without completely giving up if he wasn't ordered to do so. A skill from boyhood, woodworking had been Stitches's way of contributing to something he enjoyed. Adham's former partner, Goldie, one that he had often butted heads with, had refused to let him continue with the hobby. The argument had resulted in a band of men leaving at Goldie's heels and Adham installing a formal woodworking bench for the large man. It was strange to see him so concentrated at first, so giddy, but Adham enjoyed seeing him happy. Stitches had always kept Adham close, under his wing almost, since the time he was young. He had taught him how to use his fists when the time came for him to join up. Stitches had the mental capacity of a child, this was true, but he meant well. Adham owed him a little work space to himself somewhere prying eyes wouldn't judge him for being who he was.


Adham caught himself working on multiple receipts at once, balancing finances without so much as a second thought. Stitches had been carving a toy horse, using a knife to create waves in its mane. Adham sat up and watched him work for a moment. Looking at the horse had reminded him of the horse they had taken as well as what to do in a month.