Lara woke up early in the morning; however, she didn't get up. Lying in the darkness, she thought about recent events. Everything seemed unreal. It was only yesterday when her world ended - captured by bandits, reduced to slavery. Then last night happened. She remembered it all vividly.
After the entire ordeal with Tarok, she washed herself in the washroom shown earlier by Erika, then went to the servant bedchamber. The bedchamber was cold and damp, the beds were simply a pallet covered in a heap of dry straw on the ground. Thank Verea a blanket was provided, otherwise it would be impossible to sleep in the chilly late autumn night.
Five other girls slept here too. They were already asleep when Lara arrived, and five minutes after she lay down, Tarok came in and deposited the other girl on one of the beds and left.
No one seemed to awake yet. She didn't recognize any of them. They must have been Tarok's sex slaves too. A feeling of shame filled Lara's gut. Much as she wanted to sympathize with these girls, she didn't want to be with them right now. She didn't want to be seen as the newest addition to Tarok's collection of playthings, and the questions, the stares that may follow... Lara decided to get out of bed early. She needed some time alone.
Lara paced alone in the gray cobblestone hallway, trying to find the kitchen. Erika mentioned that all the female captives had two jobs: cooking and cleaning, so she decided to visit the kitchen first. In a few hours, the men would wake up and want something to eat, so it was the logical choice. Even though she didn't know where it was, it shouldn't be difficult to find the kitchen, given the relatively small size of this old fort. The cookhouse would usually be situated on the ground floor near the main hall, so she needed to find a way down. As she was turning around the corner at the end of the hall, Lara almost bumped into a person.
"By the gods, you scared the wits out of me," said Erika, clutching her chest. "You're the new girl, Lara, right? What are you doing here? Why are you out here alone?"
"I am looking for the kitchen", said Lara. "You said I am to work there? I can't sleep, so I just want to get there early."
Erika gave a look of understanding. "Can't sleep, huh? It takes some time to get used to your new circumstances. I'm about to wake you girls up anyway. The kitchen is to the right, down from that staircase. Just walk straight, you can't miss it. But wait," Erika grabbed Lara's shoulder, "you seemed educated. Do you know how to read or write?"
Lara's adoptive mother, her predecessor, was adamant about giving her a proper education. She said it was becoming with her role as a model lady for other girls and it would serve her well in getting a good husband in the future. Lara, being a little child, didn't want to study that much, but her adoptive mother stayed firm in her decision. So, to answer Erika's question, Lara nodded.
"Oh, thanks the gods. Finally, someone useful for me. Come, I need your help. Come. Forget the kitchen, we have too many girls working there already," said Erika eagerly.
Before Lara knew it, she became the old woman's assistant. Lara quickly learned that Erika was the one in charge of the day-to-day operation of the camp. She took inventory of the loot from raids, organized the work in the camp, selling any valuable goods to black-market merchants, and most importantly, paid the men. Technically, all the money belongs to Tarok, Erika just distributed it. Tarok's band was actually a mercenary band, formed in the north and had come south to find work. Raiding for loot and slaves was just their side activity. They also engaged in small trade with merchants and sometimes lords. Money from these sources needed to be jotted down so that it can be explained back to Tarok whenever he wanted to know where his coins had gone. And someone had to write letters too. In addition, with the recent sack of Merinth, there were more things to take stock of. However, Erika couldn't write very well - the cold weather had exacerbated her arthritis. It was painful for the old woman to hold a pen for long, that's why she was delighted to have Lara.
Lara dutifully helped the old woman. It took her mind off of her troubles, at least temporarily. Besides, Erika seemed like a decent person, maybe she could even help Lara someday.
"I don't know there is so much managing work for a mercenary band," remarked Lara. She was writing down numbers and figures from recent raids. Erika had dictated for her the whole time, completely from memory. Even though the old accountant must be at least in her 60s, her mind was still razor sharp.
"... Add that with 5 dozen silver coins from last week. What? Oh sure. Things haven't been always as organized as it is now. Back then they just piled everything together and let the least thick one do the bookkeeping. Mistakes happen, or the fellow thought he could swindle some coins and get away with it. Anyway, bickering and fighting usually ensued, sometimes deadly. Why do they always have to drink on their payday? So I make my skills known and eventually, I take care of everything. It wasn't too different from my old job. Can you believe it? All these big, burly men, they act tough and talk loud but can't even read a letter. I can do loads of things, but I can't do everything, especially when my hands are killing me," she ended her rant by massaging her hands. "Damn weather."
Lara watched as Erika strode towards the fireplace. The flickering flame of the fire pit cast faint dancing shadows on the wall above the wooden bed. Gleams of early morning lights shone through the only window in the room, lazily lit up the small room. The room was barely furnished, with just a fireplace, a wooden bed, a couple of chairs and an old discolored desk. The desk seemed to be the only thing of value here as it was moderately sculpted and it had two side cabinets. It looked like this room was the office of the commander here before it was abandoned along with the fort.
"What was your old job?" asked Lara.
"Hmm?" Erika looked up from her cup. She'd poured herself a cup of hot herbal tea from the kettle in the fireplace. "My old job? Selling things. I used to own a shop in the city of Bariem, up further north of here. Selling cloths and other baubles mostly. Things were going quite well until ten years ago when the old king died. Things got worse as war broke out. Suddenly everybody was fighting everybody else, and nobody bothered to buy cloths anymore. Then the city was besieged. After two months, I decided to sneak out. I was captured by a group of highwaymen, just as I made it into the woods, outside of the besieging perimeter. They took the last of my money and was about to kill me when Tarok's men surrounded them. Apparently, they tricked the minotaur on some old deal. Awful idea. The fighting, if you can call it that, was mercifully short though. Tarok just walked up, grabbed the highwayman nearest to him by the throat, snapped his neck with one hand and threw his body towards the others. They surrendered immediately."
"That... wow."
"Wow indeed. That memory has always inspired me to be honest with Tarok. After the highwaymen ran away, Tarok let me go. The highwaymen's loot was all goods, which was useless for the mercenary. That's when I offered my service to Tarok. I told him I was good with money and could sell it for him. He took a gamble with me and I delivered. A couple of years later, I took over all of the money business. Been that way ever since."
"You must be outstanding at your job."
"I don't want to brag, but you can certainly say so." Erika sipped from her cup.
"Why would you choose to work for him then?"
Erika lowered the cup and looked at Lara. Her trenchant gaze made the young girl shrunk in her seat.
"I know what you're getting at. I'm a 65-year-old woman. I have no family left. I can't survive on my own anymore, especially when people are killing each other left and right. This is the only thing I can do. This is the only thing I'm still good at. It's not perfect. I don't like the business with slaves, but we all do what we have to do to survive. I wish we could do something else to earn money, but honest work nowadays doesn't exist anymore. Chaos and utter lawlessness. That's the world right now."
"You're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't judge", said Lara apologetically. She turned her attention back to the paperwork. Given the same circumstances, she would never work with criminals to sell people. That was against the very teaching of Verea, of her message of love and compassion.
"You seem like a good girl, Lara. Help me out and I'll find you a good home. Maybe some lord or lady needs a new servant. You could work in an estate somewhere and then buy your freedom," the old woman assured her. Lara nodded. She'd rather not be a slave, but for a girl in her situation, that would be the best she could hope for.
"Erika - about Tarok."
"Yes, what about him?"
"Are you afraid of him?"
"At first. Never seen anything as big as him. The bull head doesn't help, you know. And the way he breaks people's necks, or rather, crushes, without breaking a sweat was quite unsettling. But now, not so much. I have worked for him for ten years. He looked frightening but reasonable. Just do what he says, don't get on his nerve and you're goo-"
The commotion outside drew the attention of both women.
The loud neighing of horses, followed by yelling and galloping pierced through the hitherto stillness of dawn. It was well into the morning now. Half a dozen men rode out of the fort's crumbled defensive perimeter and into the distance.
"That's the scouting party. Tarok keeps sending them out and I can't tell what they are scouting for. Anyway, let's get back to work. We still have a lot to take note of," said Erika.
---***---
"I think we're done for today," announced Erika after sifting through the papers one last time. The rest of the day was uneventful, except when at dusk the rumbling noises outside signaling the scout returning. It was a while ago and the sun had gone down. "Please come back tomorrow. Thank you, Lara. I'm really glad that you're here," the old woman patted Lara on the shoulder.
"And for your work today," said Erika. She walked to a drawer by the bed and took something out. Lara realized it was her sack, much dirtier than the last time she saw it.
"Here. It's yours, right? Take it. The men found nothing valuable in it, so you lose nothing."
"Oh, thank you so much." Lara grabbed it and check inside. All her belongings were still there.
"Don't mention it. Go, get some rest."
Sitting and writing all day had put quite a strain on Lara's back. She waited until she had closed the door to stretch herself. As she walked, Lara clutched her sack of belonging close to her chest. She felt relief. She got her things back, and she found a companion in Erika. Life wasn't so bad. There was a reason for hope now.
It was still too early to bed, and she really wanted a bath. So Lara made the trip to the washroom and bathed. Old habits. After dinner, she returned to her bedroom to rest. As she approached the room, she saw Erika walked out of it.
"Oh Lara, I was looking for you," said the old woman awkwardly. "I'm sorry. It's Tarok..."
---***---
Closing the door behind her, she turned around and saw Tarok sitting on his bed. Unlike yesterday, Tarok had clothes on; he wore a loose white linen shirt and black trousers. Lara was slightly surprised to see him wearing human clothes. He was holding a whetstone on one hand and a metal double-bitted axe on the other, and what a weapon it was. Lara estimated that it must be about 4 feet tall and the blade the length of her arm.
Tarok glanced up from his axe and looked at Lara. He stopped grinding, lifted the axe up as if it was a wooden stick and leaned it against the wall by the bed's headboard. The axe made a loud clank noise when it hit the wall, demonstrating its great weight.
Lara slowly walked towards him. The bedroom was clean and without the smell of sex like yesterday. She instinctively glanced at the bed. It was also tidy and empty. She took a quick look around the room. There was no one else but her and Tarok.
