She waited for them by the wagon they had left with horses hitched outside in a clearing not far from the road. The people had slowly drained the building. Some had light and merry hearts, while others appeared pale and stricken as their consciences pricked them.
Two men came walking down the road beside her, and she could not help but look on them. The first of the two men was lean, muscular, and tall. His hair was light and laid on his back, and his body was built like that of a warrior.
The other man was shorter than he was. His head came barely to his friend's shoulder. He was neither strong nor muscular and he had a touch more fat on him. His skin was fair and his dark brown hair was curled around his ears. He had freckles upon his face, and his eyes were brown like a strong bean brew.
The two talked quietly together as they went, discussing some thing or another that seemed to her like nothing at all, and their hearts called from within them that they should be free of their silent bellowing and feigned delight. So, Dorcus moved to stop them on their way.
"Pardon, sirs," she said, stepping out on the road in front of them.
The two men stopped, looking at her with questioning eyes. "Yes, Miss?" answered the man of lesser stature.
"Sir, you have an establishment here in the town and you are very well thought of, but, of late, you have determined in your heart that you should profit of another man's destruction and reap of your brother's falling, that when his heart is heavy within him, you should supply according to the desire of his flesh that you should heap shame upon him again and again, a drowning of sorrows in the night with no mind for his humiliation on the morrow. You sell your own soul for a copper and another man's soul for a pint or a silver. So, repent of this and live."
"Look, Ignatius, a seer," the man replied, addressing his friend while keeping his dark eyes on Dorcus.
"Aye, and a pretty one," the other man said, likewise watching her.
His voice was like a man from Euphess, and she realized that he must, too, have been a foreigner.
"Have you any werds fer me, lass?" the man from Euphess asked her, giving up any attempt to cover his accent.
She smiled. "Yes, sir," she told him. "You have fallen for your people's folly." She paused, looking into his arctic eyes with surety. "You shouldn't be drinking."
His face fell and his eyes dropped away, breaking contact with hers, and he nodded with sorrowful penance. "Yes, well... thank you, Miss," he muttered.
The first man seemed as if he would have liked to say something more, but he was halted by the coming of Sebastian and Jordan.
"Dorcus," Sebastian said, calling out to her as he approached. "Come, on your way. We will go. We will not tarry here tonight."
"Will we not stay?" she asked him, her words tinged with disappointment.
"Do you have reason to?" Sebastian inquired.
"Well, uh..." she hesitated.
Jordan laughed. "You doubt your word, Sebastian. Give mind to your talents. The girl is smitten." He laughed again merrily.
Dorcus felt her face turn red, and she bowed her head. "I do like him," she muttered.
"Well, Mr. Carder, I should congratulate you. It seems you know my apprentice better than I do." Sebastian said, glad-hearted.
The Delphian's eyes grew wide and lit with recognition as his face shot up towards Jordan. "Ah... wait! Mr. Carder, the Councilman?"
"Oh, no! Not at all," Jordan jested. "I'm merely who I am, not who I am perceived to be."
The man appeared puzzled, as if unsure whether he should believe him.
"Yes, I am the man who you suppose," Jordan admitted, dropping his joke as he assured the man of his identity.
"Right," the man replied with hesitance. "What are you doing here in Damascus?"
"I came to see a man about a horse," Jordan answered. His tone was oddly serious.
"How's the horse?" the man asked him.
"Dead," Jordan proclaimed with an ear splitting grin.
"And the man?"
"Promising," Jordan told him. "I think I have found all that I came for, and all that I hoped, I was given in abundance, also."
"Promising, eh?" the man said curiously.
"Quite," Jordan replied.
Dorcus smiled. 'Yes. Quite.'
By this time, Jordan and Sebastian had come to the part of the road wherein Dorcus and the two men were standing, and Sebastian grabbed her shoulder gently.
"Dorcus, come, please. The faster we get Jordan back to Elkshire, the faster we can lay this matter to rest. At which time..." Sebastian stopped himself, but Jordan couldn't resist the urge to finish his thought.
"You can see the man often!" the representative from Delphi triumphantly proclaimed with laughter. "But you'll have to let me do my job for that!"
Dorcus grinned with amusement. "Yes, I suppose I must."
"That a girl!" Jordan said, giving her a pat on the arm in passing.
Dorcus chuckled, smiling with expectation. "To Elkshire, then."
"Wait!" the dark haired man said again, thinking to protest their departure, but the other man grabbed him.
"Hush, Martin," he said, grabbing his arm.
"Huh?" he turned to his friend with surprise.
"Don't you know who that other man is?"
"No, actually," Martin admitted.
"Sebastian Trimble," he informed him in a harsh whisper.
"So?" Martin replied.
"So, he's the Seer, and if you don't want your heart handed to you again, you'd best pipe down now and make yourself scarce."
Dorcus cracked a smiled, holding back her laughter as she heard them. 'How ridiculous! What silly men would make themselves scarce before repenting.' She chuckled quietly.
Sebastian grabbed the horses' reigns to steer them as Jordan climbed up and sat on the bench seat beside him. Meanwhile, Dorcus clambered into the back of the wagon. She sat with her back to the side and legs outstretched, holding the book which she had tossed over beforehand.
"Heyah!" Sebastian shouted as he slapped the horses' bodies with the reigns and urged them on to go.
She looked back to see the men had gone, and she wondered if they would listen, or else why she had met them. She never had understood entirely why they met people like that - those who wouldn't listen. Their stories wouldn't ever end well, and she thought it a painfully awful waste of time to have met them.
'I hope they turn. I really do. Please, don't let my words be meaningless. At least I know they listened.'
"So, Dorcus," Sebastian said after they come again to the main crossroads of the town, "what did you think of Mr. Webber?"
She smiled fondly. "I liked him," she said, fussing her fingers gently over the cover of the book he had given her. "He is a kind and gentle man... and sweet." She stared down at the soft red cover. "He's very sweet."
Sebastian sounded as though he were pleased by her answer, though he didn't say anything, which led to Jordan breaking through the quiet satisfaction of her old master.
"Well," Jordan said, leaning his head back, "I liked him, also. So, I'm glad that the two of you did, because we'll all be seeing much more of him just as soon as I can convince the Council to act!"
He laughed, and Dorcus smiled.
She held the book tenderly in her arms and cherished it, her eyes fluttering with tiredness. 'Yes. Soon, Mr. Webber, I will see you again, and, then, I will see you much more. In fact, I hope that I might see you all my life. Until then, I will wait. So, please...' she yawned, her eyes falling shut and her head tipping down, 'come soon.'