Lion Head Mesa wailing

tamar had been carrying debris all morning.

along with two other fellahin, the trash heaps of akashingo were being moved. it was hot and reeking work. but it would not do to have the catacombs below awash in stink.

in the afternoon tamar found time to crouch beneath a gnarled tree, smelling the ugly stench of herself and feeling the long pull in tired muscles.

The lady queen had spent a good deal of her time beside the injured medic. It had left Arsenio with hours to himself, hours of restlessness that carried him across the mesa to fill caches or mark the borders with his scent. By the time he had made his way back toward the heart, it was late afternoon and the sun had slipped behind a layer of clouds.

Ahead, Arsenio caught sight of the maid’s autumn colors. The blue of his eyes traced her outline before she slipped behind the gnarled tree. The Greek man could smell Tamar from where he stood, several paces away. A coy smile curled his lips.

Tamar, the mercenary called in a singsong manner.

arsenio was suddenly there.

"stay away from me," she called back, though her eyes were filled with a odd light. "i am as rancid as a rotted pomegranate."

the banks of the serpentine river were not so far. tamar wheeled and walked some paces. she cast a glance over her shoulder, silent in her invitation that the guard should follow.

"you have no other fellahin to bother, mm?" she teased arsenio when she had slid into the shallows, keeping her distance for now.

I can smell you from here, vromoúsa gynaíka, the guard replied with humor upon his voice. Arsenio crinkled his nose with a grin and stepped after her, slowly moving toward the river water. He kept space between himself and Tamar so that she did not feel smothered as she tried to wash herself. The auburn wolf bent his head to drink, soothing the dryness in his throat.

The autumn maid asked if he had no one else to bother. Arsenio smiled softly, his eyes following the flow of the water.

I do not like the others, the misthofóros said plainly, his broad shoulder shrugged. They are sneaky and lustful things. Let them have their Pharaoh. With one glance toward Tamar, Arsenio lowered himself to his haunches and then onto his belly beside the flowing water.

tamar was unsure of how she felt having him here.

it was a strange feeling. she had been the one to call arsenio to this small shore. she was not unsettled by the guard, but he saw much.

tamar turned herself away from him began to sluice water over her forelimbs first, dashing debris downstream. "one of them looks at you. i see her." a smile. the girl moved into the deeper waves until they began to lap against her hips.

Arsenio did not understand why she would speak of another servant girl, why it would be worth mentioning that one of them had found eyes for him. It was not what he cared to hear.

The Greek snorted and set his cold gaze upon Tamar. The words took several seconds to form in his mouth, as he gazed at the woman who washed.

I care only for the eyes of one Fellahin, his voice cracked slightly as he spoke them, but Arsenio did not pull his eyes from the autumn maid. The chill in the air brought his flesh to life, bumps chased along his legs and back. The mercenary could not help but wonder which of the Pharaoh’s toys had found eyes for him and why. He did not like to feel as though Ramesses was watching, but he knew it was foolish to expect less of the spoiled king.

Arsenio sighed softly and rested his chin to his paws. Birds fluttered overhead and sang, flying into a sky of grey clouds.

tamar only looked at him.

she knew what arsenio meant. it heated her cheeks. but she did not pull her gaze to another point.

"you say you have asked for my freedom as payment," the maidservant said, drawing from the water to crouch dripping a small distance nearby. she did not toss the lake from her fur, only slowly began to groom the streaming pelt. 

"who pays you?"

The Greek burned hot.

You are asking for a lot, Tamar, the man stated softly, not meant to be reprimand.

If I am to give you the name of who I serve, you must never speak it. Not to any, even your most trusted companion. When Arsenio spoke it was with great importance. He did not want for the maid to think that this was light chatter between friends. If he was to speak the Roman’s name, he was giving away information for nothing in return.

Nothing except, perhaps, her eyes upon him.

tamar thought.

of the secret jawahir had given her.

of the language she still carried in her heart.

of arsenio's willingness to reveal.

"maybe i do not want to know." tamar stared at the man for a long moment. her pale eyes searched his own and then she stepped away, back toward the mesa without another word.

Arsenio held her gaze before he bowed his snout toward the earth in understanding.

Maybe you do not, the Greek man whispered softly to the maid, worried for all the things that he dared to speak to her. Tamar was sharper than she looked. She absorbed the words of those around her naturally, without falter or sway. It was good for a servant girl to have such skills, he knew. It did not stop him from thinking she would use them on him.

Arsenio watched her go, following solemnly with the ice of his eyes. Only when she had faded from his sight did he curse softly at the earth. Akashingo was a tiresome place.