Desert Thirst Ch.2

• Posted by Borommakot March 14, 2014 - 1,543 views

  Starting from his sleep with a tapping against his boot, Alazir looked up to see Kotara standing over him, holding a wooden plate. The light from behind him was still dim, but brighter.

  "You waited til dawn to wake me?"

  Kotara crouched down beside him, a smug smile on his face.

  "You appeared so restful, it seemed a shame to disturb you," the seriousness returned to his face, "besides, I needed my own rest for the night. What better time then while you, too, were sleeping."

  The bound Alazir shrugged, then looked at the plate, which Kotara set beside him before moving behind the tent pole and untying the rope that held his hands behind the pole, leaving the one securing his waist. Rubbing his wrists to relieve the soreness, Alazir reached for the plate while Kotara leaned back and sat cross-legged, waiting for him to finish the cold strips of cooked meat. For a while Kotara just watched and Alazir ignored him, but presently the guard spoke.

  "Ugakta, they call you."

  Alazir stopped with his hand halfway to his mouth. He was used to the name, now, usually used as an insult by those who didn't understand. How could they? "Rage" was all he had left.

  "I've thought it myself," Kotara admitted, "I've wondered. Is there room with this fury of yours for you to see what is at stake for our people? What this invasion means?"

  Scoffing quietly, Alazir finished his bite of food and set the plate down, at last looking Kotara in the face.

  "You come from Sentinel, no?" Alazir asked.

  "That is right."

  "Hm. I marvel at how easily those from the cities speak of "brothers and sisters", and the Redguard people. I wonder where they learned this kinship, because I did not see it when the gates closed before the people that I call family, leaving them to the mercy of the Dominion. Mercy, I'm sure, that you are now well acquainted with. That is what was at stake for me, and it has already been lost." Alazir picked up the plate and went on eating.

  "Then you feel no remorse for what happened to Sterrick or Vithta, that they died because of your recklessness?"

  "I did not ask them to follow."

  "They were under your command! You were to--" Kotara shook the disbelief from his voice, blinking as if seeing the man before him for the first time. The cold tone from the night before returning, he went on, "You truly belong here, then, if all you wanted was to die with elves at your feet. If you won't be a Redguard, a warrior, with the rest of us, then how can Cyrus do anything but use you as a resource? You choose to be used as a weapon, as you clearly do not know how to wield yourself. I have run out of pity for you, Alazir."

  "If that was all that kept you here," Alazir tossed the empty plate aside and put his hands behind the pole again, staring impassively forward, "you might as well secure these ropes and be on your way."

  Growling, Kotara got up and tied Alazir's hands again. The berserker knew better than to say anything about the uncomfortable tightness of the bindings. Kotara got to his feet and crossed to the tent opening, where he turned back to Alazir again.

  "We move in three hours. I'll be back in two to retrieve you for the armorer. You will live through this battle, Alazir. And many more, I can feel it. The sands will drink blood today, but none of it yours."

  "Is that supposed to be a curse or a blessing?" Alazir met Kotara's gaze. The guard shrugged.

  "I suppose that's for you to decide. I simply believe there is too much fight in you to die here. And I still hope that you may find peace."

  Alazir slowly shook his head.

  "Just make sure my axes are sharp."

  Kotara sighed and swept out of the tent.  Alazir looked up at the sunlight that managed to penetrate the fabric, following it's inexorable rise with a strangely fixated look, as though he had begun counting down the hours until joining combat once more.