Two weeks ago…
“What do you mean you don’t have my paperwork!” Anusha of the Skull Squadron screamed over the roar of the crowd at Khel Rojida the arena manager of Rocanis. They stood inside the staging area of the gladiatorial stadium.
Khel shuffled quickly through a stack of half-sheets of colored paper and kept shaking his head.
“I’m the Duelmaster! This is my last turn to fight…and in the dark arena! You don’t get a second chance to do that!” Anusha lambasted as she pounded her new quarterstaff repeatedly into the sandy ground in frustration.
“I’m well aware you are the Duelmaster, but no paper work, no filings, no fighting,” Khel replied.
“My manager Grimwood sent it by normal courier and early as usual!”
“I’m sorry,” Khel turned and waived his hand with the colored strategy sheets in apology and left.
“Damn the nine hells!”
“Don’t worry yer pretty head little girl, ya just saved yer-self a trip to the Isle of the Eye in a box,” chuckled a deep voice from behind her.
Anusha turned on her heels, as her ankle bracelet jingled, and glared at the dark arena Shewish Giant known as Rokori Klee, behind a caged wall. His thick hands gripped tightly around heavy iron bars as he smirked under a nose, broken many times over, and a thick brow with beady eyes. She could smell his foul breath, likely due to rotting teeth, from even several feet away. She tilted her head, smiled coquettishly, and sauntered up to him.
The shew snored up a ball of snot, spat it to the side with a thick splat, and said, “Rirorni, Khel did ya a favor by not letting ya fight in the dark-“
WHAM!
The shew went down squealing in pain as Anusha retraced the butt of her quarterstaff from between the bars at groin level.
She bent down at the knees to the reeling giant on the straw covered floor, she smiled brazenly and said, “Shew, Khel did you a favor by not letting me fight in the dark arena.”
***
Today…
“Something is stirring up the creatures of the Lake of Mists!” Captain Darien called out from the little dingy that brought Anusha to the shore of the Isle of the Eye. He wore well-oiled leather armor. His golden-brown arms and legs boasted perfectly carved muscles. A round helm covered his entire head, including a nose guard with thick rivets around the opening, so only his lips were visible. He was a perfect male specimen.
Anusha rose, but Darien placed his hand on her shoulder. His strong hand sat her back down. “Hold lass.”
On any given day, she would have resisted and likely break his wrist, but the strength, yet gentleness in his touch melted her shoulder like butter.
Darien threw a thick rope to a young man on the dock and said, “Your pardon Lady Protector, you’re the only thing keeping this boat afloat.”
Anusha looked down at her boots, where one covered a gash a sea creature tore through the metal plate lining of their craft on their way from the other shore. “Oh yes, of course. I’m so sorry. I forgot. How foolish of me.”
Darien nodded and started throwing the passengers luggage to the young dockworker one right after the other.
How foolish of me? I’m so sorry? Anusha thought and admonished herself. Why was she acting like some stupid school girl around him. She glanced at Darien and watched his muscles flex as he heaved the heavy baggage from the craft.
In short order, there was nothing left except him and herself on the boat. She would be perfectly content to keep her foot in place and travel back across the Lake of Mists; just the two of them.
However, Darien stepped onto the dock and turned back to her extending his hand. “Lady Protector, welcome to the Isle of the Eye.”
“If I move the boat will sink.”
“Ah, no need to get yourself wet.” Darien reached and grabbed her around the waist. She gasped as he easily picked her up and placed her on the wooden dock. Water began to seep into the boat from the gash. The dockworker then began to drag the boat towards the shore, likely to begin repairs.
Anusha picked up her gear and walked down the wooden docks looking over her shoulder at Captain Darien as he barked orders. At the end were her stablemate Rao and a woman with short dark hair, similar to the servant class in the Rirorni Empire.
Rao said, “I heard Khel Rojida got rid of you from Rocanis too. I don’t think he’s too fond of us Rirorni.”
“Yes, so it seems. At least I’ll have someone I can talk with in the Khan’s tongue,” Anusha said in Rathiri. She then began to hand her gear to the woman accompany Rao, who folder her arms and snorted.
“Take them servant.”
“I am not your servant.”
Rao cleared his throat in unease. “Um, this is My-re. She is also one of our stablemates.”
Anusha regarded My-re and her perfect inflection of the Khan’s tongue and said, “You’re not a Rirorni, yet you speak like you grew up in the Empire, but wear your hair short like the servant class.”
“I like wearing my hair short.”
Rao stepped up and said, “I thought it might be nice for you to meet someone else here that spoke Rathiri, as it seems it’s not common on the isle.”
“Ah, it does take a certain mastery and intelligence.” Anusha nodded to My-re then continued, “I’ll consider it my gift to these people to teach them our refined language. Especially, that one.” She then looked back at Captain Darien on the docks helping pull the quickly filling boat to shore.
My-re followed her gaze and chuckled. “That one is friendly with the ladies.”
“Yum.”
“However, he is even friendlier with the lords.”
Anusha turned to My-re then back to Captain Darien as he patted the young dockworker on the back for a job well done for bringing the sinking, water logged boat to shore.
“Huh?” Anusha said then continued, “Oh, I see. A pity. Well, I hope this island doesn’t disappoint with its taverns. Anyone know a good place to get a drink?”
My-re smiled, “I think I do.”