The Thieves of Otar

The Chosen

Zia didn't sleep at all that night. Arch had offered the King and his Guards to stay the night in the camp, and Zia's nerves were so taut she knew she would never find sleep. Seeing Jay brought back waves of unpleasant memories into Zia's mind, and she didn't know how she felt about him sleeping peacefully in the same camp as her, no idea of the horrible and painful memories that he brought with him.

After tossing and turning on her cot beneath the open sky for an hour or so, Zia finally couldn't take it any longer and silently crawled out of her cot, careful not to wake the others around her. As she quietly walked through the band of blankets and people, she wondered if they, like her, had ever not been able to find sleep because of a terrible past they were trying to escape. Then she began to wonder what trials and sorrows were hidden beneath the eyes of these men. What secrets did they hide behind their own eyes? These were people Zia saw and talked to every day of her life, yet she knew little more about them than their names.

She walked softly through the trees, disappearing like a ghost into the night. She walked around the camp with the aspens and evergreens there to guard her. She touched the trunks of every tree in her reach. She had always marveled at them. They had thousands of stories hidden away within their trunks and branches. They had probably seen wars, death, pain, suffering, light, darkness. Yet, here they still stood- strong, tall, and majestic.

She walked on for another five minutes or so when she came to a clearing in the trees. The figures of four men were sleeping around a small campfire. They were accompanied by a large tent that bore the Otarian crest. One man was sitting with his back to a tree a little ways away from the camp. He was obviously on watch. King Donathan was smarter than Zia thought. It appeared that the King trusted the Thieves no more than they trusted him. Then Zia realized that the idea of posting a lookout could have been Jay's. He was the King's head of security after all.

The sentry had not appeared to have noticed her, so Zia tentatively took a step back. But the small movement seemed to catch the eye of the Guard. He stood and the air was filled with a hissing shring! sound as the sentry unsheathed his sword at his hip.

"Who goes there?" The sentry's voice was deep and thick, and his voice sounded..... different. The way he spoke was unfamiliar to Zia. His words were sharp and they seemed to come from deep within his throat. Perhaps he is from another kingdom? Zia wondered.

Knowing she had been caught, she stepped fully into the clearing, showing her hands in a gesture of peace.

The Guard pointed his sword at her chest. "Wha' is a young lass like ye-self doing out alone in the woods a' this hour? And among such company?"

"The call of nature," Zia replied smoothly.

This rattled the Guard. He was obviously from the city where women would die of fright at the mention of such a thing, let alone say it like it was an everyday thing- even though it was. But Zia had grown up with men. Some things just came to one in such a situation.

"'Scuse me?" he asked, lowering his sword a bit.

"You heard me," Zia said.

A confused expression still played on his face, and he lowered his sword to the ground. He studied her carefully, and Zia in turn did the same. It was difficult to see in him the dark, but she could see his broad shoulders and hair the color of fire. He had a light beard on his face, but it was well kept. He was very young, twenty-nine at the most. But he looked just as strong and fit as any of the older men of the Royal Guard.

"You're the li'l lass tha' held your sword at the Captain. I recognize ye now." His voice was dark, and he lifted his sword back in front of him. "Wha' are ye doing here? Come to finish the job? Well, I won' let ye."