Young Writers Society

(Night! This was super fun, we made good progress ^.^)

"I'm not," Aleth answered. He took a deep breath, considering mentioning that he found women distasteful. But, then, there was no point sharing anything about himself that wasn't absolutely necessary, was there? He was in the business of gathering information, not sharing it. "As you said, there is the danger of love and vulnerability developing. I prefer to remain free of attachments. It allows me to accomplish things that... other men might find to be risky. Whereas I find such things to be most profitable."

(Absolutely!)

(These two are the worst Jedi I've ever seen)

Tarr nodded in agreement. "The people in this war aren't so careful about that. Did you know Ash and Loquitur used to be thick as thieves? More like brothers than Ash and his full brother were, from what I'm told." Tarr thought he himself had more in common with Michael Ash than any Ash he'd heard of, but that man also sounded completely out of control. A brute for the sake of being a brute. "Something was deeply wrong with that family, if you ask me."

(hahaha right? I hate them sooooo much but I'm so pleased at the development between them)

Aleth hesitated, for once, caught off guard by Tarr's words. His mind stabbed back to a single moment of his childhood with surreal clarity.

Aleth was eight. He'd been in the 'punishment corner' of his father's shop for thirteen days. He wasn't even hungry anymore, it was more just a hollow ache at this point, but he would have killed someone for a single sip of water. He'd been working on wobbling one of the bars on his cage while his father was away. It was getting progressively looser.

He finally got it pried loose. He turned his head to the side and worked his frail shoulders through the gap, then wiggled his hips through as well. He staggered to the side, lightheaded, but let himself out the side door of the shop, eyes wide and flicking around for a way of escape. He didn't even know where he was going -- he just needed to not be there.

His eyes locked on two old women sitting on the porch across the alley, breath catching in his chest. Would they help? Could they?

He didn't have time to consider it, because he heard his father's keys working the lock on the front door of the shop. Aleth's eyes went wide and his head snapped that way, then he turned and sprinted in the opposite direction.

One of the old women tsk-ed, "Something wrong with that boy."

Father snarled in rage from within the workshop, and Aleth could hear the side door slam open, bouncing off the wall with the force of Father's rage.

"With that family," the other woman answered.

They hadn't helped.

Aleth cleared his throat, snapping himself back to the present. No point in dwelling on the past, was there? No amount of self-pity would go back in time to give eight-year-old Aleth so much as a morsel of food.

"Yes, well," Aleth said, forcing a thin smile. "I suppose all we can do is thank our lucky stars that we don't have to deal with such nonsense... and dispose of Ash, of course."

"Of course," Tarr echoed. "No sense in dwelling on the past, I say." He reached the top of the stairs. "This is a historical part of the castle. You'll be sleeping in one of the old Lords' rooms down that way." He pointed down the long hallway. "There were lots of things happened up here, you know. Duels, affairs, betrayals."

"Inside the castle?" Aleth asked curiously.

"Right on this very floor," Tarr replied proudly. "That room is where my great-grandfather bargained for Lord Tarrik Barraster's daughter."

"And is that when the duel broke out?" Aleth asked playfully, smirking a bit.

Tarr snorted. "No. It was diplomatic. The duel was between my uncle and my father. My father won." He sometimes went down to the graveyard to gaze at his uncle's statue. He'd been a bear of a man, with arms as big around as Tarr's head. It was still a wonder how his father had bested him.

Aleth sobered a bit. He’d expected the duel to have been further removed. “That sounds unpleasant all the way around.”

"It meant my father became Lord of House Tarr, so I don't mind the unpleasantness." Tarr smiled to himself and headed toward Aleth's chambers. "We call your quarters the Tapestry Room. You'll see why in a moment."

So, apparently siblings weren’t the only family that powerful men needed to keep away from themselves.

“Can’t wait,” Aleth said with a smile. He hesitated a moment, mind now taking the time to think about accommodations. “Would it be possible to have two cots brought to my chambers? I hate to impose, but I prefer to keep my servants near to me.”

"They have a room next to yours," Tarr replied, giving him an odd look. Who slept in the same room as their servants? "That ought to be near enough."

Aleth hesitated a moment. His habit of having his servants sleep in the same room as him — only when they were away from home, of course — had originally been born of necessity, when he hadn’t trusted them not to run their mouths. Now, he was more than certain that they’d maintain his confidence. But he demanded enough from them during the day that they needn’t be bothered with deflecting questions from other servants during their resting hours. “Ah, even better. Thank you.”

Tarr nodded slightly and stopped at a sturdy door. He produced a key ring and removed a heavy iron key, inserting it into the lock. He turned it and pushed open the door.
The room inside was covered wall to wall with exquisite tapestries depicting all manner of history and everyday life. Even the carpet told a story in extravagant reds, greens, yellows, and blues. One of the tapestries facing the enormous four-poster bed depicted twelve figures dressed in white furs, all standing in a circle with blood running down their hands to pool in an intricate symbol at the center of the circle.
"That's the oldest one here," Tarr said, pointing to it. "Crafted by Fangr Tyr's great granddaughter."

“These are beautiful,” Aleth said, eyes flicking around the room before settling on the gruesome on Tarr was pointing at. “What does that one mean?”