This is perhaps good timing; I'm off to Kiev for the week for board meetings today, so I may not have as much time as usual to write -- we'll see; sometimes I get an unexpected block of peace and quiet on these trips! You're almost caught back up with comments too, which is very impressive :) And I shall have a think about a longer tale for the four horsemen, probably including E. Kevin Gway since War is quite fond of his groupies... I would anticipate it starting next week.
Mejaran "Portmaster?" Liefert set his knife and fork down and looked steadily at Jocelle. "You have someone in mind already?" Jocelle's smile was a wry twist of her lips as she pushed peas around her plate. They were undercooked, hard, and she was wondering if she could just leave them all without anyone commenting. The mashed potato was lumpy but hot at least, and the steak was actually quite well-cooked, for which she was grateful. "It might be more accurate to say that you sister has someone in mind," she said. "Orsana? She wouldn't care who does it so long as the ore reaches her forge on time! Who cooked this food, by the way? It's terrible." "The steak is fine," said Jocelle, feeling relieved. "The peas would honestly be better if they were still raw. Well, she's proposed Yarel to me." Liefert sat back and pushed his plate away, the food barely touched. "That's as good as an instruction," he said. "She's bossy; growing up she always had things we should all be doing for her, and she was stronger than us all too. Unless you want an argument with someone as stubborn as the doorframe, and just as sturdily built, I'm going to agree." "You can't just agree like that!" Jocelle pushed her plate away now too, having finished the steak in three hungry bites. "It will look like nepotism!" "Do we have any other applicants? Or even anyone who might want to do it if we pushed a bit?" There was silence while they both pondered this, and then finally Jocelle shook her head. "So it's not really nepotism," said Liefert. "Call it inevitable instead, and let's be happy that we found a portmaster without having to twist anyone's arm."
"Stop! Stop eating!" The cook burst into the room followed by a guard, and then shortly after two more guards holding a struggling woman between them. "What?" Liefert stood up. "Don't eat the peas!" The cook was struggling to breathe, his chest heaving up and down from the running. He was not a small man, and clearly sampled his cooking regularly to check the flavour and taste. "This woman put something in them." "Poison?" Jocelle stood up. "They were inedible anyway, I doubt either of us ate more than a forkful." "It wasn't poison!" The woman twisted in the guards's arms. "Divana?" Jocelle sounded almost amused. "I thought we threw you out. Again. With that mouldering corpse you reanimated." "I thought it was the best Shotek had looked for a while," said Liefert. He sat down again. "Dear Gods, is there really no way to get rid of the pair of you?"
"So if it wasn't poison," Yarel asked as he wedged another stone into place on what would become the eastern wall of the new port, "what was it?"
"Divana isn't telling," Orsana replied, a stone in each hand as she awaited her turn. "She just insists that it's harmless, whatever it is."
"So why even bother?" Yarel stepped back, wiping sweat from his brow and breathing hard. "Why go to the trouble of putting something into the Lady and Principal's food if not to hurt them?"
"To help them, somehow?" Orsana looked even more doubtful than she sounded.
"Well from what I've heard all she helped with is convincing the both of them to never eat peas again."
"You don't sound too disappointed on that account..."
"Don't you start with me, too. I eat plenty of vegetables." Yarel picked up another stone and manhandled it into place while his friend collected another three stones.
"Looks like you could stand to eat a few more," Orsana said quietly.
"What was that?"
"I said I think one more row of stones ought to do it for today," she replied without hesitation. "We'll get the crew started early tomorrow morning, as the days are only going to get hotter."
"All right." Yarel tried to hide his relief and failed miserably. His arms and back and shoulders and legs were aching. He would sleep well that night.
2 comments:
This is perhaps good timing; I'm off to Kiev for the week for board meetings today, so I may not have as much time as usual to write -- we'll see; sometimes I get an unexpected block of peace and quiet on these trips! You're almost caught back up with comments too, which is very impressive :) And I shall have a think about a longer tale for the four horsemen, probably including E. Kevin Gway since War is quite fond of his groupies... I would anticipate it starting next week.
Mejaran
"Portmaster?" Liefert set his knife and fork down and looked steadily at Jocelle. "You have someone in mind already?"
Jocelle's smile was a wry twist of her lips as she pushed peas around her plate. They were undercooked, hard, and she was wondering if she could just leave them all without anyone commenting. The mashed potato was lumpy but hot at least, and the steak was actually quite well-cooked, for which she was grateful.
"It might be more accurate to say that you sister has someone in mind," she said.
"Orsana? She wouldn't care who does it so long as the ore reaches her forge on time! Who cooked this food, by the way? It's terrible."
"The steak is fine," said Jocelle, feeling relieved. "The peas would honestly be better if they were still raw. Well, she's proposed Yarel to me."
Liefert sat back and pushed his plate away, the food barely touched. "That's as good as an instruction," he said. "She's bossy; growing up she always had things we should all be doing for her, and she was stronger than us all too. Unless you want an argument with someone as stubborn as the doorframe, and just as sturdily built, I'm going to agree."
"You can't just agree like that!" Jocelle pushed her plate away now too, having finished the steak in three hungry bites. "It will look like nepotism!"
"Do we have any other applicants? Or even anyone who might want to do it if we pushed a bit?"
There was silence while they both pondered this, and then finally Jocelle shook her head. "So it's not really nepotism," said Liefert. "Call it inevitable instead, and let's be happy that we found a portmaster without having to twist anyone's arm."
"Stop! Stop eating!" The cook burst into the room followed by a guard, and then shortly after two more guards holding a struggling woman between them.
"What?" Liefert stood up.
"Don't eat the peas!" The cook was struggling to breathe, his chest heaving up and down from the running. He was not a small man, and clearly sampled his cooking regularly to check the flavour and taste. "This woman put something in them."
"Poison?" Jocelle stood up. "They were inedible anyway, I doubt either of us ate more than a forkful."
"It wasn't poison!" The woman twisted in the guards's arms.
"Divana?" Jocelle sounded almost amused. "I thought we threw you out. Again. With that mouldering corpse you reanimated."
"I thought it was the best Shotek had looked for a while," said Liefert. He sat down again. "Dear Gods, is there really no way to get rid of the pair of you?"
"So if it wasn't poison," Yarel asked as he wedged another stone into place on what would become the eastern wall of the new port, "what was it?"
"Divana isn't telling," Orsana replied, a stone in each hand as she awaited her turn. "She just insists that it's harmless, whatever it is."
"So why even bother?" Yarel stepped back, wiping sweat from his brow and breathing hard. "Why go to the trouble of putting something into the Lady and Principal's food if not to hurt them?"
"To help them, somehow?" Orsana looked even more doubtful than she sounded.
"Well from what I've heard all she helped with is convincing the both of them to never eat peas again."
"You don't sound too disappointed on that account..."
"Don't you start with me, too. I eat plenty of vegetables." Yarel picked up another stone and manhandled it into place while his friend collected another three stones.
"Looks like you could stand to eat a few more," Orsana said quietly.
"What was that?"
"I said I think one more row of stones ought to do it for today," she replied without hesitation. "We'll get the crew started early tomorrow morning, as the days are only going to get hotter."
"All right." Yarel tried to hide his relief and failed miserably. His arms and back and shoulders and legs were aching. He would sleep well that night.
Or so he thought.
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