Tales of the Enarchs : Evalia's Hunter

Chapter 4 : Tranquility

Jouka had been in the custody of the Hunters for at least three weeks, to his own estimation. Admittedly, his condition had improved considerably from the first three nights. The unpleasantness there had been mostly of his own doing, though, and he had quickly figured that appeasement was his best chance at gaining information and trust from the tower's occupants.

Not that it was easy, though, as even the nicest person he had come across, Miss Mara, had tolerated none of his prying or attempts to artificially ingratiate himself. She had stonewalled him when he tried flattery, and mildly reminded Jouka that he was not her first charge. He had quickly ceased all attempts on that front. The other two weren't any less close-minded but were infinitely less polite.

The old one, Aleksandr, was constantly making small snipes at the others, though he strangely avoided slighting Mara. There apparently was another hunter, Lars, who was away on a provision run; he was due to return soon. Jouka had some interest in the Hunters, for various reasons, the least of which being his need to see what they did on a day-to-day basis. Alexei had barely stayed put long enough to talk with, as he was constantly out and about, doing one thing or another.

None of them had seemed particularly violent, hateful, or prone to burning down villages in the night. They had come across to him as a small family of reclusive woodsmen more than anything. Of course, this was an extremely small sample size to draw any conclusions from, but he did not have any reason to doubt that the extent of their work was exactly what Alexei had claimed. They patrolled, they apprehended infiltrators and smugglers, they kept to their own borders and tower.

While he hadn't been physically present for the raid, the survivors who'd been willing to talk seemed entirely convinced that hundreds of white-cloaked men had come down from the mountains. While, certainly, the accounts would be grossly exaggerated by a townsman scared half out of his wits and running for his life, it still must have been a few dozen of men to so thoroughly raze a town of Nopíjoki's size.

How a gathering of that size hadn't attracted attention was beyond him. If this tower was a typical garrison for the hinterlands, as Alexei hadn't explicitly denied, then multiple border posts must've been emptied out to pull enough manpower for the attack. A reasonable inference, then, was that they'd need a place to muster, provisions to buy and stockpile somewhere-- His calculating thoughts were interrupted by a gentle ahem to his right.

"Jouka, you're going to get frostbite if you don't move those delicate hands of yours." He shook himself out of his reverie and resumed washing the small pile of dishes in the trough. Mara stood nearby, working a loaf of bread on the countertop. He flexed his hands to loosen up the stiffness that had stolen over his knuckles.

"Yes, Miss Mara, I will." He replied crisply. He had only recently been allowed some free reign over the tower, on the condition that he behaved himself and obeyed the few rules. Alexei had made sure to demonstrate the areas that were off-limits, including the fact that the door would cause his restraints to snap to attention should he attempt to exit the building. Otherwise, the only areas he couldn't access were the Hunter's bedrooms, the basement, and the roof.

"That's quite alright. I do appreciate you helping while the others are out. Normally I do this all by myself. It's getting harder every year." She continued pounding the dough into submission, her flour-covered hands hiding the many callouses and scars beneath a powdery glaze.

"I can imagine," Jouka began, "I used to help my grandmother around the house quite a lot. She just reached her eleven-hundredth year this past winter." Mara looked up at him, mildly surprised, her dough momentarily forgotten.