Novtumber 2nd - 62nd entry (Sling Practice)

Novtumber 2nd

-It has been over a month now since the Old Priest died and I am still sad. The weather is changing. It is starting to get cold on some nights, though most days remain quite nice and mild.

Palkeera pulled me out of classes today.
I thought there was some kind of emergency at first, that she needed me to help her take notes for some meeting that had just been set up without any warning. Instead, she took me through the market on the way to the stables. She filled up a bag with small roundfruit before we rode out of the city.

When we had finally stopped at the edge of the forest, I could see Senntisten far behind me. The great defensive wall that surround the Capital looks so small from that far away, yet remains imposing. It is a fool who throws himself at Senntisten in challenge.
At first, I did not understand why we had come to this place. I kept expecting Palkeera to get back on Curaw and ride further on, but instead she took the fruit she had bought out of her bag. She had placed the fruit on top of rocks at varying distances or nestled the pieces in the crooks of trees.
Salinatrix did not want to wait, she wanted to eat that fruit. I had to keep pulling the reins to keep her in place, otherwise she would have followed that tricky nose of her’s into Palkeera’s setup. Curaw, of course, stood patiently even as her reins rested unrestrained against her saddle.
When Palkeera was finally done, she told me to let the horses have rest and come meet her where she stood. I had done as she told me to, heaving the saddles off the horses and putting them over a log. Salinatrix immediately wanted to pested Curaw, as she is wont to do, but was shooed off when the great draft mare smacked her in the face with her tail. Ears pinned, a heavy back hoof pounded the ground only once. Salinatrix went to go graze quietly on her own after that.
I was confused about the fruit put up on the trees and rocks, but assumed that we had come here to meet with someone.
Palkeera told me that we had not come to meet with anyone. I asked her if we were retrieving something to take back to Senntisten, but that was also incorrect. I asked so many questions, all administratively themed. To each one, Palkeera shook her head as a negative to my guess. I exhausted all of the questions I could think of before Palkeera pulled a set of slings from her bag. She said that we had not gone out today for work, we had gone out for ‘fun’.
I was confused, and still am. Why would Palkeera, of all people, take me out of my classes for ‘fun’? This was really more of a Trindine-type thing to be done. Palkeera usually encourages me to spend as much of my free time as possible to pursue intellectual goals, like she does. She explained why to me, but the reasoning still seems a bit unclear.

I am not very good with a sling. Last time I used one, Zamorak took it away from me. It is not possible to practice this weapon anywhere on Temple grounds, so I have been left unimproved before today.
Palkeera was much better at it than I was, even though it had been centuries since she had last used a sling for any reason. After a few throws that went far from their target, she seemed to remember how to throw correctly. She missed the fruit, but hit the knot of the tree that was next to it.
I think Palkeera must have bought the bag of bullets from the military or possibly even Zamorak himself. He probably figured that, if Palkeera was going to risk her life to train me, he might as well support her effort. I think this would make sense.
The bullets are pointed at both ends, each of them bearing words cast into them. Most of them said things like ‘Take that!’ or ‘Catch!’. A couple of them had the images of frightening beasts embossed into the lead.
After a few more tries, Palkeera was hitting each target with ease. I, however, did not do nearly as well.
We had fun. For the first time in such a long time, Palkeera had fun.
She pulled me in against her with one arm, patting my shoulder. And she laughed. Genuine laughter, the kind that I have not heard from her in such a long time. Not the reserved laugh used in the Temple when she finds something mildly amusing, or the sardonic laughter that Mahjarrat seem to favor.
I am never sure what truly goes on in Palkeera’s head, not that it is any business of mine anyway, but I really wish that I knew today. She was so much looser than normal, her usually tight and analytical manner of being suspended.
She had clapped approvingly when I had finally hit a roundfruit. The fruit exploded into little pieces that flew through the air and all over the ground.
Slings are not to be taken lightly. In the hands of a trained and practiced soldier, I imagine a head would suffer much the same damage as a roundfruit.

We were out all day. We rode our horses around for some time, exploring the local trails. I saw deer and many birds, the kinds of animals that do not venture into the city. Pigeons are a common sight, and so are a few sparrows and jays, but songbirds like I saw today are rare. I think the noise of the city drives them away from the villa gardens. Over the sound of people and of cart wheels on the roads, their songs get drowned out. I know some of the women keep songbirds as pets. I wonder if they sing the same in cages as they do in trees?
A wild boar looked like it planned to charge us, but Palkeera turned it away easily.

Palkeera said that we will be heading out to Dareeyak tomorrow. There are a few little things that she wants to look for, but the main reason we are going is to look at a horse for herself.
It was not until that moment that it even occurred to me that Curaw was old. How old is she, exactly? She was old enough that Palkeera was riding her before I ever came into my Mentor’s care, so she is older than I am.
Palkeera kept saying that Curaw was getting too old to do much serious riding, that it is nearly time to let Curaw spend the rest of her days in a pasture while a young one did all of her heavy work. Curaw is getting old. She is no longer as fast or strong as she once was, as Palkeera needs a mount to be.
I hope that this new horse is worth the trip all the way to Dareeyak. That is no quick walk to the market.

I fear Palkeera is more troubled than she wants me to know. She seems so hurried, so concerned, by an invisible something. Maybe there is a new essay idea that is sitting heavy in her mind? Is someone ill? Has something happened?

I asked her, as I am concerned, and she told me to put my worries to rest. She is simply thinking about all the work that needs to be done soon, between traveling and her plentiful duties at the Grand Temple.
She is also concerned about Char. Zamorak has been scouring the countryside relentlessly, seeking any sign of the lost Legatus. He writes back reports of his every activity, every detail of even the most mundane action in his search, but he has found nothing yet. He seems dedicated to leaving no stone in the Empire unturned until he catches hold of Char’s scent.
I think Palkeera is beginning to lose hope that Char will be found, but is trying to keep her doubts quiet for my sake.
I do not know how much pressure my Mentor is actually under. I wish she would let me share the burden with her, instead of carrying it all on her own shoulders.