The Archer

Part 2

Aslin was going mad. If she didn't leave this room today, she was going to scream. She felt she had looked at every single object in the room a thousand times, felt every fabric, every surface. She had started to pick objects up just to put her hands on something new, had started moving her chair to different corners so when she looked up from reading she didn't always see the shafts of sunlight falling on her freshly made bed. Breakfast lasted her nearly an hour these days, as she savored the novelty of different dishes, different textures and tastes. These were the acts of insane people, she knew, and she felt it happening to her in small increments.

She hated Ero for keeping her always in this one space, but also felt such an incredible rush of pleasure and gratitude every time he came to her. Not just because he was a person with whom she could interact, but because of his vibrancy, the sheer energy that always seemed to be vibrating off his person, his unpredictability. She craved novelty, and he was novelty personified.

But she tried not to advertise how desperate she was for his company, feeling more than a little self-disgust at how annoying of a prisoner she had turned out to be. Bathed and fed and dressed like a prize pig and here she was, complaining of her boredom. Would she rather be swinging in the basement, getting lashed?

So when Ero came to lunch with her, Aslin schooled herself to remain calm and prayed he was in good humor. She had a request to make.

He opened the window, as usual, and she stood by it for a little while as the lunch tray was being set up. "This looks nice, Giro, thank you," Ero said softly in Almanian, and the manservant smiled.

"Cook's gone out of her way to experiment with spices, what with the lack of reliable meat. Thankfully this was one of her more successful experiments," the man answered.

Aslin lightly closed her eyes with the strong breeze, relishing these moments when Ero spoke to the others in Almanian, none of them knowing she could understand. It somehow gave her a sense of her own power.

"Well, it shouldn't be too long until things are calmer with the local farms," replied Ero.

"I hope so, my lord. Our gardens are bountiful, but Cook says the soldiers need meat."

"That they do. As the Tirians have withdrawn, they've been paying off the farmers to keep them from selling to the keep. As if they could starve us out."

Aslin's heartbeat quickened. Withdrawn?

Giro sniggered. "If only the Tirians knew how satisfying loyalty is to the belly. We have no need of their food."

Ero just laughed mildly. "Well, man cannot live on potatoes alone. We need good relations with the civilians here, for reasons besides their livestock."

"Yes, my lord," deferred Giro.

"And when we are gone from this place, I'm sure the locals will miss what we sell them just as dearly," Ero added, and she could hear his grin.

Aslin's hand gripped the doorframe. Were they vacating the keep?

"That they will," Giro laughed. "I can't believe the people never ate eel before we came. Such a waste."

"The Tirians waste more than fish," Ero added seriously. "They waste lives as well."

"You mean our guest?" Giro queried, curious.

Aslin forced herself not to look over.

"It's alright," Ero reassured the servant. "It's just . . . they leave their people behind as if they mean nothing."

"It doesn't make sense," Giro agreed softly. "To have scaled the cliffside in the dead of night, to shoot down our lights from such a great distance, surely she is a valued warrior."