Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, |
Ari took another sip of tea before continuing, her voice even lower than before as she made the change to her native language, just in case. “You know that if necessary, I have… an unusual resource at my disposal,” she said at last. “I would prefer not to call upon him unless matters are truly dire.” She looked around the camp; some of these people were strangers, or the next thing to it. “I don’t want to explain myself, especially to the mages. But I want to live marginally more.” As a joke, it was not terribly funny. “I will keep him from interfering,” she said finally. “But if a moment comes when you feel there is no choice -- as the far better tactician -- let me know, and I will take the risk.” Mag was silent for a moment, considering. She had seen Ari’s summon in action before, and if the Mage Councilors’ predictions were accurate, they were going to need a lot of firepower to get that herb. And the herb was what they were here for. They could not afford to be defeated, or to return without a cure. “I have no idea what to expect tomorrow. Whatever’s in these mountains, it won’t be good news, I’m sure. It won’t be easy.” She sipped her tea and looked around the camp. There were people there she had never met before. No doubt it was the same for Ari, and a summon was not the kind of thing you wanted to flaunt in front of complete strangers. “I hope that we will not need his help. If we do, I will let you know.” A smile. “And I will play dumb later, if people ask questions.” “Oh no, sir, surely you hallucinated?” Ari fluttered her lashes, doing her very best impression of innocence. “I will hold you to it.” And really, this was all she could do now to protect herself -- Mag would know if and when the time came, and until then, she simply wasn’t going to worry about it. Why worry about something she couldn’t control? “This tea,” she said, once again in the common Valendian, “is saved from being vile only by being hot.” The time for confidences was over. “A poor choice, if it’s meant to boost our morale.” Mag agreed, recognising the shift in their conversation and playing along. As far as anyone would ever know, they had spent the time talking of trivial matters, and nothing else. “Should give us something that actually tastes good to make us fight harder to stay alive tomorrow. This tea, I would give my life never to taste again.” Though her tone was playful, and there was a smile on her lips, she couldn’t help but dread the next day’s mission. Too much was at stake. She held onto the hope that they would emerge victorious, and every one of the volunteers would return home safe, with a cure for the plague, and everything would be all right. She told herself, as she sipped the foul concoction in her mug, that she was going to survive. To have this be her last drink, and die without tasting Ordalian coffee again, would be an unforgivable sin. |