A sudden thought struck Kre, and he blurted it out without thinking overmuch on it. “Is it just those of you… uh… working for the weapons collector?” He wasn’t sure what to call it exactly and he wasn’t terribly comfortable calling it out for what it was.
Virryn paused a moment and finally nodded. That small hesitation gave Kre all he needed to believe that meant he was right, that she likely knew about the other slaves being held in preparation for the auction.
The silence continued for a bit, with Beleg chewing on his lower lip and Virryn looking down at the bowl that was now nearly silent.
“We should speak later,” she offered quickly. “Or not at all, if you are not willing.” Without waiting for a response, Virryn quickly silenced the bowl with her hand and shuffled it away under her arm.
Beleg reached an arm out to place on her shoulder, but she shifted back slightly to avoid his touch, “You will fight tonight, and you should focus on that. No one will be helped if you die out there.”
Returning his hand to his lap, Beleg nodded. “Fair point my lady. Come Kre, let us practice a bit and see if these swords speak to me the way they have spoken to you.”
The two worked back and forth for a bit, not wanting to work Beleg up into a sweat or to push the warrior too hard. Not that Kre really thought that he would be capable of doing so in any case. Beleg could be half-asleep with one arm tied behind his back and still score hits on Kre. Virryn waited near the door, sitting in a cross-legged position on the floor with her eyes closed. Despite her appearance of not paying, she immediately sprang to her feet and provided a glass of water when Beleg cleared his throat a bit too roughly.
“Bah,” Beleg spat after a good hour of light sparring. “I never should have let you talk me into these blades. They are far too short and with too little grip for my hands.”
A tickle rang in the back of Kre’s head and words that were not his own rolled out of his mouth, “They were meant for a young man. The child of someone with powerful enemies.”
“Did the other Ylveryan tell you that?” Beleg asked, almost hopefully, as if he already knew the answer and it frightened him.
Kre didn’t respond quickly enough before Virryn cut in, “No. No, no… Grivallt has no knowledge of the weapons. He was only recently moved there after the last attempt he made at escape.”
Beleg cocked his head slightly, “He tries to escape and is promoted to looking after a store of priceless weaponry?”
Virryn shook her head, “There is not one of us that would touch those accursed tools. Even the least devout amongst us would never take up one of those blades even in rebellion.” She turned to Kre and gestured to the swords. “How is it that you…”
Her question was interrupted by a knock at the door. All three heads spun in unison as the door opened to reveal two figures. One was Grivallt, gesturing with his arm for his companion to enter first, and the other figure with him was Dain.