Bond considered…what did he have to lose, anyway? Nothing. “Fine,” he grumbled. She actually smiled, really this time, and Bond smiled back. When she wasn’t being his cold nurse or claiming to be a power-hungry queen…she was actually quite pretty. That was a scary thought, he reflected, as she helped him back to his feet. He quickly withdrew his hand from hers and staggered on by himself, a few steps behind as she led him down the tunnel. It was only after a few moments he realized that she hadn’t called him “prisoner” once since she had come into his room today.
“Almost there,” Rivera exclaimed as they reached a tall iron door. “This is the armory, beyond is the stable.” She inserted a small key from her pocket in the door and wrenched the brass handle until it creaked open. He followed her inside, thinking.
The armory – this should be good, considering how he’d seen Rivera and her companions fight. He wasn’t disappointed – the door led to a small antechamber and then a larger chamber, where he was instantly confronted with rows upon rows of weapons and armor. Swords hung from one wall, shields on another. There were glass cases of daggers and knives, mannequins covered in everything from a suit of armor to an archer’s simple leather chestplate and vambraces. Chests of runes, sets of armor for horses, bows, arrows, every kind of blade imaginable – it was quite impressive. And there…in a separate glass case, laid out on blue velvet – his very own knives!
“I had them cleaned and sharpened,” Rivera said. He jumped; he hadn’t realized she was standing just over his shoulder.
“Thanks,” he stammered.
“Come on,” she urged, and took his hand to lead him onward. He followed slowly to another door. This one took another key, and when he entered, instantly recognized the musky smell of hay and the sound of excited horses. He was standing in a long row of horse stalls.
20-Oct-2007 22:47:23