Patria Carere

     Pacing the Bard’s Quarters, Kent Wheelock paused at the window overlooking the Forum Publicos. From this vantage point, he could see the tiny walled courtyard that separated Fintan’s quarters from the forum, as well as the mass of people haggling at the midday market. He could also see the Pissing Puppy Statue where he’d cussed Fintan out the first time they’d met after... You old rat bastard, Kent sighed, turning his back from the forum to continue his short journey to nowhere. Every day for the last two weeks, Celatrix Julianne Verna had plagued him with memorizing Donian rhyme schemes, epic grammar, and ancient idioms. Just thinking of her made his brain ache and his heart long for the far easier life he’d lived on the Gambling Strip, where scrambling for food and shelter were the apex of his intellectual problems. He sighed again, she’ll be here any minute. Get your head on, he shivered at the unintentional thought which brought with it the all too realistic feel of the shovel as it had connected with West’s neck. Throwing his hands to his knees to keep from falling, Kent weaved where he’d bent over. Staring at the maroon rug he suddenly experienced a wave of vertigo that ended with him kneeling on the floor, holding a hand over his mouth. As he was crawling on three limbs in a feeble attempt to make it to the bathroom, his door swung open and Ensign Balin entered.