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mini_nanowrimo
I realized that I need to write about when Brewster sent Turnspit to the mines before I could write what happens when Iros and Turnspit have their audience with Brewster. So, here it is -- part of it, anyway.
previous
The screaming had fallen to sobs before Turnspit realized it was him making the noise. Two of the other kitchen hand were sitting on him. He fell still and shivered, while they babbled reassurance at him.
"Let him up."
The two scrambled off him, and he got to his knees. Immediately he caught sight of the decorated riding boots and froze. Fancy boots like that meant an aughisky of rank. He wiped his eyes and tried to stop crying.
He did not look up, not until his chin was yanked up. He found himself being stared at by hawk-yellow eyes. Pale eyes, white hair, skin walnut brown and walnut wrinkled – the Brewster, and he was in the soup now.
"You did this?" the aughisky Lord gestured behind herself, her arm taking in kitchen, splatter, broken furniture and all, including the two bodies still on the floor were Turnspit had felled them. They were most definitely dead.
Turnspit nodded.
Brewster's lips pulled back, grimacing and hissing. Turning away, she ordered, "Stake him in the courtyard. And bury those two."
"Lord!" Verdigris protested, stepping forward
"What? He's a murderer twice over. He admitted."
"He was wronged. Look!" And the head of kitchen moved behind Turnspit. She shoved him hard forward. He caught himself on his arms just as she grabbed at his shirt and pulled it back down over his shoulders.
Turnspit yelped a protest and tried to pull away, but Verdigris smacked his ear. "Turnspit, hold still! I'm trying to help you!" She turned back to the Brewster and said, "Look! See what they did1 There's more!"
Turnspit yelped again as she poked hard at his bruises and cuts and pointed out the swollen bite mark over his collarbone.
Brewster stepped close again, her eyebrows raising in alarm. She lifted Turnspit's chin again, more gently this time, and took in his healing wounds. She twisted his head this way and that, and then twitched his shirt back to look down inside. Her mouth puckered.
"How did you get damaged then, little eyas?" she asked.
Turnspit pulled away and scrubbed his face. "I refused an offer, Lord, and thought that was the end of it…"
"And?"
"They thought otherwise—"
"We paid a good rabbit!" the wounded novitiate yelled from beyond the fire pit.
"I didn't take it!"
"You did—"
"No, he didn't," Verdigris snapped. "He wouldn't. Everyone in the kitchens knows it." She turned to the Brewster again and explained, "He thinks rabbits are poisonous and won't eat one. Pigs, too. He's a little bit crazy; we thought maybe when he was given language something got tangled in his head."
The Lord snorted, momentarily amused. "That happens, sometimes." She turned to the novitiate, saying, "He didn't take the rabbit. So you did not pay him. Would you care to explain yourself, or shall I just label you a thief and an abuser of humans?
next
mini_nanowrimoI realized that I need to write about when Brewster sent Turnspit to the mines before I could write what happens when Iros and Turnspit have their audience with Brewster. So, here it is -- part of it, anyway.
previous
The screaming had fallen to sobs before Turnspit realized it was him making the noise. Two of the other kitchen hand were sitting on him. He fell still and shivered, while they babbled reassurance at him.
"Let him up."
The two scrambled off him, and he got to his knees. Immediately he caught sight of the decorated riding boots and froze. Fancy boots like that meant an aughisky of rank. He wiped his eyes and tried to stop crying.
He did not look up, not until his chin was yanked up. He found himself being stared at by hawk-yellow eyes. Pale eyes, white hair, skin walnut brown and walnut wrinkled – the Brewster, and he was in the soup now.
"You did this?" the aughisky Lord gestured behind herself, her arm taking in kitchen, splatter, broken furniture and all, including the two bodies still on the floor were Turnspit had felled them. They were most definitely dead.
Turnspit nodded.
Brewster's lips pulled back, grimacing and hissing. Turning away, she ordered, "Stake him in the courtyard. And bury those two."
"Lord!" Verdigris protested, stepping forward
"What? He's a murderer twice over. He admitted."
"He was wronged. Look!" And the head of kitchen moved behind Turnspit. She shoved him hard forward. He caught himself on his arms just as she grabbed at his shirt and pulled it back down over his shoulders.
Turnspit yelped a protest and tried to pull away, but Verdigris smacked his ear. "Turnspit, hold still! I'm trying to help you!" She turned back to the Brewster and said, "Look! See what they did1 There's more!"
Turnspit yelped again as she poked hard at his bruises and cuts and pointed out the swollen bite mark over his collarbone.
Brewster stepped close again, her eyebrows raising in alarm. She lifted Turnspit's chin again, more gently this time, and took in his healing wounds. She twisted his head this way and that, and then twitched his shirt back to look down inside. Her mouth puckered.
"How did you get damaged then, little eyas?" she asked.
Turnspit pulled away and scrubbed his face. "I refused an offer, Lord, and thought that was the end of it…"
"And?"
"They thought otherwise—"
"We paid a good rabbit!" the wounded novitiate yelled from beyond the fire pit.
"I didn't take it!"
"You did—"
"No, he didn't," Verdigris snapped. "He wouldn't. Everyone in the kitchens knows it." She turned to the Brewster again and explained, "He thinks rabbits are poisonous and won't eat one. Pigs, too. He's a little bit crazy; we thought maybe when he was given language something got tangled in his head."
The Lord snorted, momentarily amused. "That happens, sometimes." She turned to the novitiate, saying, "He didn't take the rabbit. So you did not pay him. Would you care to explain yourself, or shall I just label you a thief and an abuser of humans?
next
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And the Brewster is old, of course she's wrinkled. ;)