CHAPTER 4: A More Proper Introduction
ARI
Ari gazed at her captor in the orange glare of the campfire, wondering if there were any chance the gaze could cut him. From the moment Zani was carted away, Ari said no words to her new master, this "Duncan Fields," other than the threat that he "will be" sorry.
The whole walk back to the bazaar to fetch the man's horse from the tavern stable was awkward silence and meticulous calculation on Ari's part, counting off the possible ways she might stab Duncan in his sleep.
They galloped on down the road for a few hours, her arms around his waist to avoid falling off the horse he called "Xena." The trot was loud and Ari was thankful she would not have to hear anymore attempts Duncan might have to soothe her resentment.
When the night approached, he stopped for a piss and told Ari to gather wood for a fire. She thought about running off like she had at the market. He can catch me, she realized, piling heavy logs into her arms to bring back to camp.
She did so, lackadaisically piling them beside the fire that Duncan had started. He had laid himself down in the grass, propping his head up with his luggage. He was not asleep, but looked close to it. The sun pinked the sky in bands of orange nimbi. It would be dark soon.
Ari wondered if she should run off. He had not chained her. Perhaps even he knew she would not get very far on her own, and even if she met someone along the road, there was a good possibility they would treat her as Raster had, if not worse. This new captor would have to do for at least the night.
Duncan caught her staring through the flames and made conversation. "You speak a fair amount of Native tongue," he told her.
Ari was hesitant, but mumbled, "I spend many time around Natives."
"But not so perfect Native tongue," the man said. "Who taught you the language?"
"I did," Ari responded.
"Impressive. But not as impressive as how you broke free of my grasp." The man sat up a little and stared into Ari's soul. "How did you do it?" he asked.
"I no know."
"You 'do not' know," the man corrected.
"Why you buy me?" Ari blurted. "Not Zani? Why? Why me? What you want me to do?"
Ari had been afraid to ask this question for the duration of her capture. She feared this Lord Fields might have the same unsettling use for young women that Raster had, though admittedly, Fields gave her no reason to suspect that. He kept his distance, except with his words.
The man sighed and half-laughed, "I like to think I see things in people."
"Who are you?" Ari asked. She knew that "Duncan Fields" had to be a pseudonym.
"Sir Oliver Boumgarden," he answered, "Wanderer of the Hells, the Hellseasoned, Yeti Slayer, High Knight of the Order of Cambria. And your name is 'Shitbag,' yes? That is what your master called you, 'Shitbag.'"
"Why me? I nothing, just a slave."
Sir Oliver laughed again, "Have you not heard my ballads? They're rather exaggerated, but still... I have a reputation. I was pushed a meter back by a Shitbag, and you think this is insignificant? I need a squire."
"I no squire," Ari said. "I never be. I no fight."
"But you will. I will teach you. You have something I have never seen before in a slave, actually, in anyone. You have a connection to Osha's endowing aura and you have never had any training. I would have been a fool not to try to train you."
"I was fine," Ari said, starting to cry, remembering the life she had. "I no need you."
"You were stealing so you didn't starve," Sir Oliver pointed out. "But you didn't need me? Who are you trying to fool, Shitbag?"
"I not Shitbag!" Ari screamed. Her voice echoed across the pines. A couple night birds fluttered from their tree in fear. "Ari! My name is Ari! Not Shitbag!"
Sir Oliver smiled subtly. "I know, Ari. But I needed to be sure that you knew." He put a hand through his graying hair, pushing it back and let out another exhausted sigh. "You have Osha in you, the goddess that gives the Order its power. They do not let girls become knights, but then again, they've never met you. I will train you, disguise you as a boy, until they are ready to see that their way of doing things is wrong. You are not a Shitbag. But you are going to need to prove it to this world. And I will help you."
Ari wiped some of the water from her eyes and sniffled. "You train me?"
"I will," Sir Oliver promised. "I guess you got lucky. You stole from me at a moment when I want to piss in the Order's wine. And we shall. And you will learn so much about what you can do, what I can already see in you. It's greatness."
Ari wanted to be angry, but she was losing her grudge and night began to blanket them in fatigue.
Sir Oliver was looking drowsy. "Rest, my squire. For tomorrow, we ride for Nightingshire."
He laid back down and shut his eyes. Ari considered running off once again. She, instead, laid her head down and tried to sleep as well.
