Two Crows Watch from the Gallows Tree

Tarr twitched toward him, prepared to strike the impudent man across the face. Then he realized he meant the instrument. "Then the lyre they shall play." He sat back, staring daggers at the boar. The boar stared glassily back, mouth pulled into a mocking grin by the apple it held in its dead jaws.
"You've not met Lord Loquitur, then," he grunted. "You'll like him, maybe. If you'd like Ash then you'll like his brother more."

Aleth eyed Tarr as he watched stupid thoughts cross the boy's eyes. He hoped, for Tarr's sake, that he didn't do anything truly stupid. Aleth would take insults -- to a point -- but there were lines that Tarr didn't want to cross, and Aleth wasn't so sure at this point that Tarr understood where those lines were drawn. Or if he was aware of them at all.

"I'm quite looking forward to meeting him," Aleth answered, both telling the truth and lying through his teeth in the same statement. On one hand, it was painfully apparent where the true power rested, and he'd like to meet the top of the chain of command. On the other, he was beginning to suspect that he wasn't going to like anyone at all that he met in this region.

Ky wasn't looking forward to meeting Loquitur. Or anyone else, really. She was beginning to get the distinct feeling that this visit was going to turn violent sooner or later, and that usually ended badly for her.

"Remind me when he's set to arrive, again?" Aleth asked.

"Likely two days from now, weather permitting." Tarr glanced ruefully out the window. "Doesn't seem like a blizzard will be on any time soon, but I'll consult my seer tonight to confirm." He almost hoped there would be one; seeing Tomhas Loquitur and the Barraster Bitches meant he would get shoved around in his own home, and he'd have to take it. His pride had already been wounded by them; it would be worse in front of Aleth. Tarr knew that man was collecting everything he could. He wasn't trustworthy.

"Great!" Aleth answered brightly, even as he saw the distaste creeping up in Tarr at the mention of Loquitur. Such fascinating dynamics between these two. "I'm glad we'll have a few days to get acquainted before the true work begins. I'm still so fascinated by all of the lovely tapestries in the room you've loaned me."

"Yes, they're quite good." Tarr blinked. Where were his mother and sister? He'd nearly forgotten them. "Lyra," he said sharply. Lyra looked up, wide-eyed. "Where are Mother and Etha?"
"They already ate," Lyra said immediately. "At the first dinner, remember?" Tarr grimaced; he'd forgotten.
"You'll meet them tomorrow," he said to Aleth. "Not much to talk about there, but I suppose you might find them interesting." He'd warn them about Aleth first, though. Etha was a talker; she'd certainly give something away.

"I'm sure I will," Aleth answered with a smile. "At least, if the Lord Tarr is any indication of the rest of his family."

This dinner was getting painful. It was moments like these that Ky regretted the fact that she had to work so closely with Aleth. Well, that was most moments, she supposed. It wasn't particularly comfy to be in the same room as him at any time, but especially not when he had to deal with such distasteful men -- and when she had to deal with them, too. At least, he hadn't addressed her directly, which was nice.

She wondered what Aleth would have to say about Tarr later, when they retired to their rooms.

Tarr made no more conversation as he polished off what was on his plate and went back for seconds, then thirds. Lyra ate nothing, fidgeting her hands in her lap for the remainder of dinner. Tarr glanced at her every now and then; he would have words with her about speaking to other men like that as soon as they were upstairs.

Ky had thought the dinner was painful when Tarr was shouting, but somehow it managed to get even worse when he sank into a broody silence. At least the food was good. That was something.

She continued to watch the silent interactions between the Tarrs, wondering if she'd manage to get Lyra away from the asshole eventually. She seemed like she was a sad, scared little girl trapped with a monster. Which, Ky could certainly emphatise with. She'd been about Lyra's age herself when Aleth had snatched her.

Aleth didn't press for conversation, and instead enjoyed the music of the lyres. As much as he could enjoy them, anyway. His mind was singularly focused on gathering as much information as he could, even in the tense silence. As he finished off his plate, he set his napkin back on the table and let out a satisfied sigh. "That meal was fit for a king."

"It was," Tarr agreed. "The boar, especially. A fat sow, it was." He rose and wiped his fingers on the tablecloth. "I'll retire early, I think. One of the servants or slaves will see you up to your rooms. Warm night, gentlemen. Lyra." Lyra got up and followed her husband from the room, casting a final glance back as Ky with a small sigh.
The lyre players continued to play after he left, and the slave from before stepped forward.
"Sirs," he said with a small bow. His voice had an Eastern accent to it, contrasting his drooping stature with a kindly, almost singsong softness.

"I'm sure we can find the way ourselves, thank you," Aleth answered, dismissing the servant as he pushed away from the table.

Ky followed his lead, then followed him up the flight of stairs to the correct floor. But, instead of starting down the hallway that led to their rooms, he walked in the opposite direction. Ky wasn't surprised. Aleth could claim he "got turned around" if they got caught, or they could simply take the long way back to their rooms, but either way, it would let him snoop.

When they got back to Aleth's room, Ky went straight to the table, prepared to transcribe whatever Aleth said. He paced back and forth in silence for a few minutes, as he often did when he was trying to organize his thoughts, then moved nearer to Ky so they could speak with lowered voices.

He leaned against the window sill and looked at Ky. "What a dick."

Tarr and Lyra walked in complete silence up to their rooms. Tarr could feel Lyra's fear the same way a predator felt the fear of prey. Good; she should be afraid. She'd made a grave misstep today...twice. She had to learn that this wasn't a marriage in which the woman had equal power. This wasn't like her parents, nor was it like their keep. She belonged to him.
"What the hell was that?" Tarr demanded as he slammed his door. Lyra crossed to the bed, head bowed, and sat down. She knew better than to take it standing now. "I thought I was clear the morning after our wedding: you are mine. You consult me before doing anything. Yet I find you planning to eat dinner without me and speaking to a servant boy of a visitor at the table once I do join you!"
"It was my mistake," Lyra murmured. "I'm sorry, Ithicus. It won't happen again, I promise."
"Two months," Tarr spat, disgusted. "Two months you've been with me and you still haven't learned. You're the worst kind of slippery, Lyra. Caracal, serpent, and farm whore all rolled into one." He caught a flash of anger in his wife's eyes. "What, am I wrong? Your mother's no noble, girl. Those calloused hands fool no one."

(I wanna punch him so bad xD)

Ky had never agreed with Aleth more fully than she did at that moment. She almost thought Tarr was worse than Aleth himself, and she hadn't thought that was possible. But, at least Aleth's rage was predictable. She'd not been the recipient of it in many months, because she'd made sure she was on her absolute best behavior at all moments of the day. Cheerful, prompt, obedient. All the qualities Aleth wanted in an assistant.

"You'll make friends with Lyra," Aleth ordered.

"Yes sir," Ky answered softly. She hesitated before continuing. "I don't know that I'll be able to make much progress with her while Lord Tarr is present."

"No," Aleth agreed with a heavy sigh. "I'll work on that fucker. You just try to get close to his wife. And sister. And mother, if you can manage it. You'll be able to get information out of them easier than I can."

"Yes, sir," Ky answered again. Of course, she could. Because she actually knew what it was like to live under the oppressive hand of jackass men. She could empathize -- get them talking about lighter aspects of their lives before wandering into their personal matters. It always made her feel so slimy to use her kindness to Aleth's benefit, but, there was little she could do about it.

"Alright, let's get to it." Aleth sat across the table from her, and together they bounced their observations off each other, her writing down notes.

When they finally finished, Ky went back to her room. She was glad to see that Tadaaki had stopped shivering, although his sleep still seemed fitful. She crawled into bed and pulled her blankets up to her shoulders, shivering a bit and making a mental note to pull her own bed closer to the fireplace as well. Tomorrow. When she wouldn't disturb Tadaaki's rest.

She closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer that this visit wasn't going to be as utterly terrible as it seemed like it was shaping up to be, then drifted off to a tense sleep.

(I wanna punch him every time I write him)

Lyra lay awake that night beside Tarr, staring at the ceiling. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought for sure it would wake her husband, but he continued to snore softly. She turned her head slightly to look at him.
If he wasn't such a beast she might say he was handsome. She'd certainly thought so at the wedding. His dark hair springing up in unruly curls, his elegant curving nose, his full lips, those intense brown eyes...then they'd gone up to bed.
Lyra couldn't even tell her parents what a mistake it had been; they'd had to depart immediately the next morning to deal with an emergency; her uncle had gained ground. So she stayed here for two months and prayed to the gods she could get her father to reverse the deal.
Lyra wanted children--of course she did. It had been her dream from the time she was a toddler. To cradle a little baby in her arms and hum lullabies until it fell asleep, to walk it through all the steps of growing up and to be its confidant and companion as her parents had been to her. But now she just wanted to curl up and be left alone. Ithicus Tarr's attentions that night had left her bruised and aching all over; she didn't think she would ever get used to his forceful grasping and pawing.
Shuddering, Lyra rolled over and slid out of bed, slipping on her robe and pulling a warm fur blanket over that. She couldn't be in the same room with him right now.

Aleth prowled back and forth in his room for a long while after he'd dismissed Ky. It'd been less than a day, and he'd already had his belly full of Tarr. Of course, it wasn't exactly a surprise. Boys who ascended to power as young as he did tended to be haughty and arrogant -- and, frequently, to not live to see old age. And the little gossip he'd heard about Tarr before he arrived hadn't painted a positive picture.

But it was taking a lot of energy to remain passive in the face of Tarr's insults and threats. He hoped Loquitur would be easier to deal with, but something told him that wasn't the case. Not if he'd willingly passed off his daughter as a child bride to someone as loathsome as Tarr. And, if he was in the middle of a war. Few men who felt the need to go to war were tolerable in the least.

It was growing late.

But Aleth still couldn't sleep. So, he decided to go wandering around the castle once more to see if he could learn anything valuable while his bullheaded host was asleep. He changed into a nightshirt so he could claim he was wandering around in search of a place to relieve himself if he got caught, then let himself out into the hall and began his trek.

Lyra shivered as she shut the door quietly behind her and padded down the hall in her warm snowhare slippers. The night air was freezing in the castle; the torches had been put out for the night and the only sources of heat were the heating stones everyone kept in their beds. The fires were, for the most part, out.
There was something cathartic about the silence of the Keep at night. Lyra remembered wandering the halls of her home as a small child the same way, reveling in the quiet that came when her boisterous family drifted off to sleep. Sometimes her father would be wandering too, tormented by memories or simply restless, and they would cross paths. They had a ritual when that happened; Tomhas would nod his head and say, "How now, little ghost?" Lyra would reply "Warm night to you, Master Spectre." It had been their special check-in, whether one or both of them were facing night terrors they would always know.
Lyra had no spectre to walk with her now, so she hugged the blanket tighter around herself and descended the stairs to the third floor.