The Shattered Circle

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Morning came sooner than I would have liked. I blinked hard, clearing my eyes of sleep with the scrubbing of my fingers. I still had my sword by my side and Vex's humming was audible throughout the tent like a dark lullaby, along with the sound of her delicately filing her sharp claws. I sat up on the borrowed bedroll and turned to face her. The wight's sleepless vigil had apparently continued uninterrupted.

The young woman I had taken from Varys was curled into a little ball in my blankets, unconscious from pure exhaustion with her wrists no longer bound in iron. She'd pulled on the tunic from Vex, but the pants clearly hadn't fit, because they sat at the end of my bedroll. I would have to requisition her clothing, not a difficult proposal.

In the dim light filtering through the hole at the top of my tent that allowed smoke through, I could see her more clearly than I had bothered to the night before when my entire fixation had been thwarting Varys. He always liked the pretty ones, taking a special pleasure in destroying  something beautiful, and this one was no different. Her features had a classical style, like the statues they carved of angels. Her hair had the rich shadings of brown found in mahogany and the way it fell loose reminded me very much of the waves of such a tree's wood.

Vex's head swiveled to face me, the rest of her body unmoving. It reminded me of an owl sometimes, though she couldn't twist quite that far back. Just enough to unnerve most of the living. "Good morning, my lady. Sleep well?"

"Well enough." I glanced meaningfully over at our sleeping prisoner. "Did she give you any trouble?"

"She tried to run once. She stopped when I told her that your protection was the only thing keeping her away from Lord Varys." Vex grinned. "Doesn't say much, but she does sign."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why doesn't she speak?"

"She's one of the Sisters. They take a whole heap of vows from what I remember. Fidelity, celibacy, silence." Vex shrugged. "You know how those religious folk get when they're really devout."

Immediately, I thought of the holy symbol I cast into the fire and bitterness welled in my throat. A lowly priestess was not likely to have played any role in selecting some fabled hero to come and kill me, but it didn't change my hatred of the gods of light and all who sought to spread their influence. "Those vows explain why Varys was so fascinated with her."

"He does enjoy breaking things."  The wight finished filing her claws and tucked the rasp away inside her own bag. "Not to put too fine a point on it, my lady, but what do you intend to do with her now?"

"I'm open to suggestions," I muttered as I opened up my bag and pulled out a clean set of clothes. "I'd prefer not to keep her."

"Varys will just take her back if she's given over to the army as a slave. Though if the only goal was to annoy him for last night..." Vex shrugged, aware that I would read her indifference to the priestess's fate with ease.

Did I really care? At that point, though, the desire to rub salt in Varys's wounded pride was stronger than my customary indifference. "Fine. Until I find some other use for her, she stays."

"I didn't take you for the slaver type, my lady. Are we expanding your interests?"

"She is a prisoner, not a slave." I fished out my comb next and moved over to the basin. It was hard to stay clean on campaign, but that didn't stop me from trying. "We may even be able to ransom her back to her people."

"Will they take her back with broken vows?"

"It wouldn't surprise me if they discarded her. That is the fashion of the righteous and noble, in my experience." I stripped quickly and used a wet washcloth to get the worst of the blood and sweat off of me. My armor kept me from being bruised and battered to pieces from combat, but my muscles were still stiff and tired from exertion. I lived for battle, but I was well aware that my body had limits. As soon as I was clean, I dressed and then used the comb to unsnarl my hair.