It was a theatrical display, Zandelia thought, but beneath it she sensed something more than an act. There was a hatred that burned for Sahova deep down in the woman, she was almost sure of that by the way her words were stated, almost spat out as the gaze turned darker. It was a flicker, a small window into the heart of Bitzer perhaps. Still, not enough to truly garner much in the way of insight. Those words spoken of Sunberth, however, were similar and yet the tone was different. They seemed more of a challenge, as if she dared Zandelia to laugh in her face. The weapon as on the floor but it was near enough at hand to be used – she wondered if Bitzer would lash out at her over such a reaction.
Interesting. She speaks of a dream, a conviction perhaps. Almost as if she wants the bloodbath to begin. I wonder if Sunberth would even allow it, it knows nothing better than anarchy and greed but such a war… she thought to herself privately.
She did not move overly much but as her left arm came around it was a slaw movement – one which would not be considered threatening. Carefully forwards it came and her fist bunched as her wrist pressed in the right spot for the hidden spring blade to flick out and stay extended. She looked at the point rather than the reaction of Bitzer, watched as the embers of the brazier coated it with a faint orange light. An aura…almost.
“Shame,” she spoke slowly, carefully contemplative in tone, “I had hoped to kill the shykepile myself. Still…there are other dreams to keep me sleeping soundly at night” she sighed as she relaxed her forearm and sighed. She sipped her tea and then gazed into its dark depths.
At least the Crimson outlasted him, such as are left she told herself firmly. There were still his lackeys to toy with however and that was something.
“I have no interest in public displays of torture, they are so often overlooked in Sunberth at any rate. Death is an event every Bell. A general of the Daggerhands would be considered odd but not necessarily worthy of note. This Scars will have to do much better than that for this war that you speak of” she continued smoothly, her gaze coming to rest upon Bitzer’s once more, noting the outstretched chin with curiosity.
“I understand enough that I need not play games over who one Scar is, but that does not overly concern me. I have not done anything to earn their ire. Perhaps I will even help them…in my own way. Not strung up bodies but other more useful things”
She is a scar, there is no doubt in my mind. Yet she is here in Sahova when she should be in Sunberth if her words are true. Why did she come here? And with whom? A task? As a guard? the thoughts flickered through her mind as she assessed and analysed.
“My name is my own and must be earned. One day maybe I will trade it for yours, though names are fickle creatures at best. I do hope the Scars in Sunberth are remembering that rather than bathing the streets in blood – it sends the wrong message for their name. Scars…heal. A massacre would be difficult to cover over,” she mused out loud as she travelled ever closer to the bottom of her cup, “if they wish for more than death they will need to tailor their approach sufficiently. It is much easier to absorb than it is to destroy. Sunberth has a tendency to react violently to wanton warfare”
She tilted her head and considered what the future might hold for her then, whom she might e able to call allies and whether she would even survive a conflict of such a nature. She was old and hardened but that was no defence. If she were to push enough to locate and befriend this…Hound. Well, she was not sure of the consequences. Still, Sunberth was her ancestral home – for better or worse. Could she sit by and not choose a side?
No…no more than I could stop breathing she groaned internally. She was already decided – she would return to Sunberth she realized. There was no other option now.
“Very well…I will bite,” she smiled a little too tightly, “let us talk of such an event. Firstly, you mention neither of the other two players in the city. The Sun’s Berth and the Night Eyes are no push overs. The Daggerhands might be weakened with Robern dead but that does not mean they will allow another to rise in his place. If these Scars wish to fight the Daggers then they will have to shield themselves from the other two” her tone was considering now, almost lecturing one could say.
“Open warfare is foolish at best and a death sentence at worst. This Hound of theirs should learn to know their targets better. He may be able to kill one general but he cannot waltz into a position of power upon blood alone,” she pursed her lips then as her gaze glazed for a few moments, “what they need are other…options” she placed her empty cup upon the floor then – the contents drained but the conversation much more fulfilling than tis warmth.
“You are tired. You can sleep if you wish, I can go. Or I can stay and watch for you. You seem adamant not to fall asleep here but it is a battle you cannot win,” she spoke gently now, “you have nothing to fear from me. I may even be one of the only people you can trust here – I want to see the Daggerhands destroyed after all. Or we can continue to talk circles”
“I’d bet my last golden piece that you are a Scar and that makes you valuable. Something worth protecting. Therefore I will think…and hopefully come up with a different strategy than wanton slaughter”
She left it there, her observation was a simple and true one. Bitzer was tired and in danger of falling into the flames of her own brazier perhaps. She would be happy to continue talking but she sensed that the other woman was getting to the end of her intentions – she was testing Zandelia and either she would pass or she would fail. Nothing would change that outcome now.
A most interesting cup of tea it was too she thought.
She was more interested, in truth, as to whether Bitzer would take the bait of her simplistic assumptions as to the methods of this Hound. Would she feel the need to defend him? Would she point out the errors in Zandelia’s own logic and thus give hints as to the true plans at play?
It was a test of her own making really, was Bitzer worthy enough to consider whether Zandelia was worthy - this was what she sought to discover in her own circling way. Or...did Bitzer consider Zandelia worthy enough to stay? either one would be an interesting revelation.
