Lion Head Mesa ashes

Arsenio laughed, a rowdy noise that did not belong there.

Tamar had said that she was a good servant, but the Greek did not like this answer at all. He wanted her to divulge more to him, to give him information he had not yet gathered on his own. She was a clever little thing, in her own ways. The misthofóros felt as though Tamar had great potential. The sharpness of her eyes did not evade him.

Tamar, you are entertainment enough for six men, Arsenio informed her with another grin. He had no intention of going to the wolf Jawahir. When the Greek spoke to that one, it would not be with the same tone that he used to address the maid. Jawahir seemed to be an important figure in Akashingo, and Arsenio could not afford to reveal too much of himself.

Who were you before this place? She would likely not answer, but he would ask anyway.