02-13-2017, 08:48 AM
The breakfast and later the lunch went by quietly for Malon and the others. Against the advice of Sera she had talked with the others in her free time and made a few friendships - as much as one could call it that, because she did avoid becoming too friendly. Most of it was exchanging names and finding out what they were good at in terms of skills, beyond that both Malon and the others avoided conversation. It wasn't forbidden but if they made friends they would only suffer more when one of them was punished for another's wrongs.
Malon had found that of the young people there were only a few with any knowledge about cooking. A few knew how to roast meat over a fire, but that was it - it was the result of the bandits tending to abduct travelers, young men and girls rather than matrons who'd spent their life learning house skills, because travelers presented easier targets that fewer people would miss, or 'write off' as having been killed by the wild predators roaming Camelot's plains and fields, because young men were more able-bodied than older ones, and because young girls... well, that was attributed to the raiders being men for the most part. The sight of young women made them think with very different parts than their brains. And girls that age weren't taught more than the basics around a kitchen, if even that - as she knew from before, a good bunch of them were aspiring witches who had never been to a kitchen before. The few women with knowledge in cooking had been assigned to other duties because one of them, as Malon later learned through the other girls, had sabotaged several meals using tricks in cooking to conceal it had been her - she had been 'too good', so to speak. It had been a very unpleasant scene when they'd found out the truth. Now they were wary of overly kitchen-savvy women.
It was a good thing thus, that Malon hadn't shown the full extent of her skill. They considered her good enough to stay in the kitchen but not so good that she might be a danger. If she maintained that disguise she could stay where she was and improve the quality of everyone's food, if only a little.
When she was brought back to the waiting rooms after handing out lunch - stale bread and cured meat as tough as leather, and slightly less stale bread and the least cured and thus softest meat for the Silver Hand - she thought about how she would be going desperate if Carmelita hadn't come to their aid. She admired the ability of some of the hostages to have stayed with the Silver Hand for months, some as long as an entire year even. She had spent six years with Ingo, yes, but back then she had seen daylight, she had been able to move freely and been given proper food and shelter, she hadn't been chained down or denied a change of clothes... it had been bad, yes, bordering horrible. This was far beyond the "horrible" line.
"... guard's gonna escort the tax-collector, so Scar's saying that we gotta scratch that one off the list", a voice spoke, barely loud enough for Malon to hear. She feigned to be asleep just in case but observed two shadows on the wall, illuminated by a torch one of the men held.
"Did Mole find out where those forces are being pulled from?"
"One squad's from the capital, but the other one was stationed in a fort near that one town... Bernhelm's End. We don't know if there's gonna be any forces replacing them, but if there's not they'll be understaffed and unable to keep us from raiding the place."
"Bernhelm's End... isn't that the place with the monastery? With the really good beer?"
"Yep, but the monastery's up the mountain. We'd be riding into a dead end if we climbed up there to 'tax' the monks, and with the whole thing being a hit and run I really don't want to be up there when the guard arrives."
"We just have to keep anyone from the town from escaping and sounding the alarm." Malon heard the sound of a dagger being drawn from its sheath accompaigning those words, but the other man continued to speak calmly so she doubted that he was being threatened or anything. He likely was just using it to cut pieces off the cured meat.
"You know that the boss doesn't like it if we kill for no good reason. Besides you'll get your amulet soon anyway... then you can drink all you want."
"Yeah, but I'm paying for it. And I hate those elven liquors that taste like moss, so when that bastard Eightfingers shows up tomorrow with his group and some loot I can't even enjoy that."
"Ahh, you'll just get one of the elven girls instead. I heard that they're only this uptight and cold 'cause they never got to be with a real man, but that they're real cougars in bed once you show 'em."
"I ain't sticking it into some elvish freak! Besides, you know who I'm after."
"Give it up, I tell you. Cutty's not interested in some fleabag like you. Maybe not even interested in any of us. You seen how she's been eyeing Alice lately?"
"Cut it out already! That's just your pervert mind making you see things. I wonder why you don't hit the brothel on your days off if you got fantasies like that."
"I don't want to get sick off whatever disgusting stuff those cheap girls have", the man pointed out. "Egh, if only Scar allowed us to use the slaves."
Malon held back the urge to vomit up what few contents her stomach had and breathed deeper a few times to get the sick feeling out of her system. The bandits continued to talk but brought nothing interesting back up.
She forced herself to relax and cover herself up as best as she could. She needed to rationalize what little energy she had. It would only delay the process of becoming boney and weak until Carmelita helped them out of this hole, but when the time for that came she needed all her strength. Enough, at least, to swing her sickles and cut a few necks open.
Malon had found that of the young people there were only a few with any knowledge about cooking. A few knew how to roast meat over a fire, but that was it - it was the result of the bandits tending to abduct travelers, young men and girls rather than matrons who'd spent their life learning house skills, because travelers presented easier targets that fewer people would miss, or 'write off' as having been killed by the wild predators roaming Camelot's plains and fields, because young men were more able-bodied than older ones, and because young girls... well, that was attributed to the raiders being men for the most part. The sight of young women made them think with very different parts than their brains. And girls that age weren't taught more than the basics around a kitchen, if even that - as she knew from before, a good bunch of them were aspiring witches who had never been to a kitchen before. The few women with knowledge in cooking had been assigned to other duties because one of them, as Malon later learned through the other girls, had sabotaged several meals using tricks in cooking to conceal it had been her - she had been 'too good', so to speak. It had been a very unpleasant scene when they'd found out the truth. Now they were wary of overly kitchen-savvy women.
It was a good thing thus, that Malon hadn't shown the full extent of her skill. They considered her good enough to stay in the kitchen but not so good that she might be a danger. If she maintained that disguise she could stay where she was and improve the quality of everyone's food, if only a little.
When she was brought back to the waiting rooms after handing out lunch - stale bread and cured meat as tough as leather, and slightly less stale bread and the least cured and thus softest meat for the Silver Hand - she thought about how she would be going desperate if Carmelita hadn't come to their aid. She admired the ability of some of the hostages to have stayed with the Silver Hand for months, some as long as an entire year even. She had spent six years with Ingo, yes, but back then she had seen daylight, she had been able to move freely and been given proper food and shelter, she hadn't been chained down or denied a change of clothes... it had been bad, yes, bordering horrible. This was far beyond the "horrible" line.
"... guard's gonna escort the tax-collector, so Scar's saying that we gotta scratch that one off the list", a voice spoke, barely loud enough for Malon to hear. She feigned to be asleep just in case but observed two shadows on the wall, illuminated by a torch one of the men held.
"Did Mole find out where those forces are being pulled from?"
"One squad's from the capital, but the other one was stationed in a fort near that one town... Bernhelm's End. We don't know if there's gonna be any forces replacing them, but if there's not they'll be understaffed and unable to keep us from raiding the place."
"Bernhelm's End... isn't that the place with the monastery? With the really good beer?"
"Yep, but the monastery's up the mountain. We'd be riding into a dead end if we climbed up there to 'tax' the monks, and with the whole thing being a hit and run I really don't want to be up there when the guard arrives."
"We just have to keep anyone from the town from escaping and sounding the alarm." Malon heard the sound of a dagger being drawn from its sheath accompaigning those words, but the other man continued to speak calmly so she doubted that he was being threatened or anything. He likely was just using it to cut pieces off the cured meat.
"You know that the boss doesn't like it if we kill for no good reason. Besides you'll get your amulet soon anyway... then you can drink all you want."
"Yeah, but I'm paying for it. And I hate those elven liquors that taste like moss, so when that bastard Eightfingers shows up tomorrow with his group and some loot I can't even enjoy that."
"Ahh, you'll just get one of the elven girls instead. I heard that they're only this uptight and cold 'cause they never got to be with a real man, but that they're real cougars in bed once you show 'em."
"I ain't sticking it into some elvish freak! Besides, you know who I'm after."
"Give it up, I tell you. Cutty's not interested in some fleabag like you. Maybe not even interested in any of us. You seen how she's been eyeing Alice lately?"
"Cut it out already! That's just your pervert mind making you see things. I wonder why you don't hit the brothel on your days off if you got fantasies like that."
"I don't want to get sick off whatever disgusting stuff those cheap girls have", the man pointed out. "Egh, if only Scar allowed us to use the slaves."
Malon held back the urge to vomit up what few contents her stomach had and breathed deeper a few times to get the sick feeling out of her system. The bandits continued to talk but brought nothing interesting back up.
She forced herself to relax and cover herself up as best as she could. She needed to rationalize what little energy she had. It would only delay the process of becoming boney and weak until Carmelita helped them out of this hole, but when the time for that came she needed all her strength. Enough, at least, to swing her sickles and cut a few necks open.