“It says vehicles. 'Vehicle' is a name for a large metal object used for transportation” You offer after a moment's hesitation.
[15]"Your translation is off." The Mother is quick to reply but taps her cane on another of the words. You describe it in the best possible detail. She does this with many, many words. There's a faint nod with each concept you state, and Brother John looks crestfallen by the end of it.
"You're a smart girl-- you've memorized more words than Brother John probably has." Her cold smile still twists her face into something menacing. She gestures at one of the words with her cane, and you glance at it. 'Vehicle.'
[13 vs. 12]Her blow catches you off guard, as she strikes you hard across the face with the cane. Anger follows the pain as you stumble into a defensive position, lifting your arms to ward away another blow as you square your hips. The Mother leans on her cane and watches in silence, the smile gone. "Know how to fight too. Keep your head attached."
"Mother Nicole, I must--" John begins, hurrying to your side. She cuts him off in an instant.
"Don't you Mother Nicole me," She spits, glaring at John, "We need tough people, not just smart ones. If she can't handle a love-tap from an old woman, then she won't be able to handle anything we throw at her. She's smarter than you, tougher too, perceptive, and a damn good liar. Don't patronize her with your sympathy."
You sit in stunned and surprised silence, and when you open your mouth to retort, she cuts you off too.
"I'd apologize, but let's call that sparring for now. We'll deal with whatever petty emotional baggage you might have from that later. Let's talk business over dinner, Pheobe." Its the first time Mother Nicole uses your name.
Hunger getting the better of the anger, you silently agree.
They lead you to a backroom with a metal table set with food. Steaming loaves of bread, simmering stews and soups, and a warm, sweet smell from the center of the table overwhelm your willpower. You take a seat and get down to business.
The bread is soft, with chunks of potato mixed in. It's warm though, freshly baked, and tasting of heavenly salt. You plow through two loaves. The soup is softer still, but still has a delicious heaviness to it. You recognize the odd gamey, white meat as the [protein] you ate previously, as well as the beans and other herbs. It fills your belly after just a bowl.
Next, the carve you a section of the [apple] tart. It isn't as sweet as you like, but with a heaping of sour cream, it crowns the dinner off wonderfully.
And it's after your thorough appreciation of their hospitality do they speak. Mostly Mother Nicole, while Brother John nods beside her. She launches into a spiel, one that she's told before, but you notice subtle variations and actual interest.
"I'd like to ask you to join the scholars. I can't promise every meal a feast as good as this, but you won't starve." She eyes your empty plate with the ghost of a real smile. She takes a sip from her glass, "Lots of bread and jerky, but you haven't eaten anything in a long time, have you?"
You grin warily. This morning was a long time ago, at least when it comes to food.
"Plus an education, and a trade. You're what? Fourteen, fifteen?" Something inside of you bristles, but you suppress the emotion. "You could reach elder status in the next ten years if that. Wouldn't your parents want that?"
"Surely, not ten years, Mother, it took me--" Brother John begins, only for her to cut him off.
"She knows more of the Scholar's tongue than you, and she's twenty years younger." The reply is sharp, crisp, and carefully aimed. Brother John visibly deflates. "Would you be a dear Child and clear up for me? Thank you, Child John."
He looks a little sad as he begins to clear the table, leaving you and the Mother alone.
"I'm serious. The opportunities we can provide for you are endless. The dangers minimal-- " Perhaps Mother Nicole notices your disinterest, or perhaps its the wine talking, but she's grinning now. "Or maybe you're the type of young woman who wants some danger in her life. Wants to feel the rush of adrenaline as she struggles to survive. The McCreary Crusader Force can provide that."
"For what?"
"Secrecy. Loyalty. Your strengths." Mother Nicole looks amused, "You never teach what we give you to others without permission. You obey your superiors when we ask. You give us that strength of will and intelligence, and we give you knowledge and shared purpose. There's a contract you'll sign. You'll receive a last name to sign it with, usually the name of your sponsor. You'll take mine."
[6]She finishes with a gentle implication while grinning a wolf's grin, "It's dangerous out there for the lonely scholar. Raiders and slavers abound. Knowing as much as you know, if anybody was looking through the front door, they would have found a very valuable mark."
You don't remember who you are.
You've been caught off-guard.
You are satiated.
Your side hurts. Blood stains your bandages.
Over Body:
A charred black, brown, armored duster. Torso:
An oversized, grey shirt. (hidden)
Lower Body:
Faded blue scratchy, canvas pants.(hidden)
Feet:
Woolen socks(hidden)
Feet:
A pair of leather boots.
Side: A wrapping of bloody bandages.(hidden)
In Belt: A burned knife.
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Topic: McCreary's Planet -- (FINISHED) (Read 257756 times)