The Old City

0.24: The Interrogation Part 2

Ryke woke with a start in a candlelit red room with long white drapes hanging from the ceiling. Far away he could hear the lute playing an old classical tune he'd also learned as a boy. The strong smell of mead permeated the air and he found two decanters to his right, one empty and one half-full of a deep purple elixir.

Was it a dream?

"You said you were going off on a mission," purred a woman next to him. He jumped, then was taken aback by her incandescence. She had long, curled hair like a warm flame and a perfect, unblemished face. Her eyes were like an emerald promise to care for him. Those gems were matched by her long gown whose tail was draped along the floor.

"Would you mind repeating that?" Ryke asked, still finding his bearings.

The woman smiled as though he were the center of her universe and obliged, "You said you were going off on a mission."

"Oh, yes. We are finally going to tear down that city in the west, and I shall finally have my revenge on those Soranians for killing my brother."

"Cheers to that!" said she, reaching over him to grab the decanter, just brushing his chest with the top of her breast. The woman poured a tall glass and handed it to Ryke. "You are so incredibly brave to venture into that awful place. I hear Soranians eat their children when their imports run dry."

Ryke nodded gravely, unsubtly looking down her gown as he drank. "I have heard the same. But that is merely another reason to liberate them, to bring them into the Empire."

"If you do your best, I am certain you can do it! But do try to be careful – I would just be devastated if anything were to happen to you." She stroked his stubbly face with the soft back of her fingers.

"Fret not, my pet. Our best minds have honed this plan over many months. We have hidden one hundred soldiers in the city already, and by the end we shall have one hundred more. We have bribed officials, stockpiled weapons, and forged – well, I should not mention that part."

"I love secrets." The courtesan moved closer again, pressing her hands against his chest. He fidgeted, horrified that he could not tell her more.

"This, milady, I fear I must not divulge."

Her dejected eyes fell as she turned away. Those pink lips seemed a little less full as she pursed them in sadness. If Ryke still possessed any sense, he might have realized these movements were practiced, perfected over time.

Man possesses a peculiar and self-destructive trait. When posed with a woman's great disappointment, he must proffer whatever in his power might soothe her, even if doing so might cause personal disgrace. Even though he knew better, even though he could be court martialed, Ryke could not have stopped the words from coming out of his mouth if he had wanted to.

"We have forged an alliance with a former Soranian major to help the invasion. He came to us because he wants to topple their government. Supposedly he was a brilliant tactician. But how great can he truly be if he comes from such a savage land?"

"Even as backward as Soran is, I do not understand why someone would betray their country."

"That question is not my concern. My superiors vetted him and believed he tells the truth, or at least enough of the truth. At least it is heartening to know that one of those barbarians has seen the folly of their ways and the sense in Magnar's leadership."

"I would be curious to meet such an enlightened man."

"I shall tell you of him when we return victorious. But you must not get any ideas, my love. For all his seemed enlightenment, this Timoleon is still but a savage."