Making the Team
Part 10
He did not get very far before he was intercepted by a mix of worried, awestruck and curious bystanders. The discomfort of their presence pressed so close had him sidestepping them as best he could while he faced their questions with hurried answers. He felt an intense need to be alone; this was too much. He wanted away. When he turned to nearly run into the village leader who hovered before him, he huffed in frustration.
“Menzo,” tittered the short portly man in his usual nervous voice as he screwed his neck backwards against Menzo’s height. “I’ve heard the news. Such a hero ‘mong us.” He motioned to the archer to walk next to him as he set the pace, shooing away the bystanders in a well-practiced motion. “The glory on our good knights falls t’you too, this fine day!”
“Wasn’t glorious, Master Dinnean. Anything but.”
“Pfaa. Too modest, you; I know you, Menzo Ramas! Known you ever since you set foot in this ‘ere village more’n four years ago!” Menzo looked sideways at the mayor but did not reply. The man’s words spoke of assurance but his voice belied a baser fear. As the little man prattled on, Menzo stared at the soil he trod, feeling rushed.
“Master Dinnean, I’ll go rest now if you don’t mind. It’s been an extremely long day and-”
“Tut-tut now Menzo, there will be time for that later! I must make certain that you know how grateful all o’ Winnoa is to you, her savior!”
“Master Dinnean, I’m still covered in blood and-”
“Oh, oh! Please don’t talk o’ blood to me, y’know how I get. My stomach cann’ae stand the idea an’ I might faint an’ I really can’t stand the idea of it all an’…”