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Excerpt: Ch12 THE BLACKGLOOM BOUNTY
Current mood:  accomplished
Category: Writing and Poetry
Location: Abbotsford Priory, late evening
Sabritha's mind had wandered to the far reaches of a home she only vaguely remembered, and of a father she remembered all too well, but never really knew. His had been the one shining image she clung to on the darkest nights, the coldest days and through the worst moments of her life. She had thought of him that horrible night in the Blackgloom keep, when it seemed the light of morning would only be a promise attached to the end of a lingering, but certain death.
A shiver went through her, even as sparks jumped out of the fire behind her and singed the flaxen blanket she had draped over her shoulders. Three heavy draws on what remained of the Prior's beer bucket, combined with days and nights of riding in an open wagon had dulled her senses almost to a stupor. All but asleep, she sat upright on the hearth as a long, gratuitous belch from the Prior brought an abrupt end to the quiet.
"Yes, it was good stew," she said, mocking the Prior's disgusting mannerism.
The Prior waddled toward the door, turned and made the requisite sign of the cross, and chanted, "Te Deum, non nobis Domine, nunc dimitis." He waved a meaty paw toward Daynin and added, "I shall be in Prior Peen's hovel behind the chantry, if ye need me, boy. My brethren and I will decide in the morning what is to be done with that bounty. Until then, sleep well, if ye can, but do not go wandering in the grounds." His disapproving glance toward Sabritha was all too clear.
* * * * *
As soon as the door closed, Sabritha let fly. "That old sot! Who does he think he is?"
Daynin ignored her for the moment, his mind already trying to resolve their next problem. The hovel was barely large enough to sling a cat over his head, let alone for two people to share. And it had only one straw cot. Sleeping close to her had not been a problem before, but now it seemed like an overwhelming issue. He hadn't the first idea how to resolve it.
"What's wrong?" she snapped, angrily. "You look like a miller's mutt with no place to mess."
"There's only room for one on that cot. I should sleep in the wagon anyway. I don't want to leave the chests out there unguarded."
"Suit yourself, plowboy. I don't intend to spend any more time shivering out in the cold than I have to. As for the chests, I can't imagine even a thief would be out in this weather."
Daynin stopped almost in mid-stride toward the door. "Sabritha," he growled, his anger more than a little obvious, "if you call me 'plowboy' one more time, I swear I will leave you here with Prior Bede."
She swept past him and rolled herself onto the Bede's cot. "I've been in worst places, I guess. But if it bothers you that much, I'll save that name for when you have made the biggest fool of yourself. And sleeping out in the rain tonight would be just such a time." She rolled on her side and held the blanket up, then motioned for him to join her. "Now get you into this bed and be quick about it, before I change my mind."
7:15 PM
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energetic
contemplative
