Ancient Greece, Late Monday Night
Callisto was discussing strategy when the man was brought in. Troy had fallen several weeks ago, and the dust was still settling, even this far from the action.
She examined the man with disdain. His hands were bound, and a bruise darkened one side of his face, but his clothes were better than that of the average farmer or villager. "What is this?"
"A bard," one of the scouts who'd brought him in replied.
"A bard," Callisto repeated sceptically. "I know you all forgot my birthday, but I already said you don't have to make it up to me."
She could hear a muffled snicker or three from the men, but all her attention was focused on the scout. "We came across him last night," he said. "He offered to share his fire and a story. Fresh from the Academy of Bbards he said it was, prize-winning."
If they'd been riding since last night that would explain why they looked the worse for wear. "I'm assuming there's a point somewhere."
"Yes, ma'am," the scout replied. "After he told his story, I thought that it was something you needed to hear."
"You did?" Well, now that was intriguing. She nodded curtly at the scouts. "You two get something to eat. In the meanwhile I want to hear this story that got such a reaction from my men."
The bard had obviously never had such a well-armed audience, but despite tripping up on his own words several times in the beginning, once he found his rhythm he seemed to slip into a different headspace. One where he didn't notice the room getting quieter as Callisto's expression got stonier, to the point that you could have heard a pin drop after he finished.
Callisto, for her part, was dangerously still. She was vaguely aware of a banked rage being stoked to new levels of fury, but for now that seemed very far away, as if everything was wrapped in a layer of cool, comforting numbness. "And you say this story won at the Academy of Bards?" she asked finally. "The one in Athens?"
The bard nodded. "Best of the entrance exams," he said, then added "Better than what some of the teachers can come with. And with the scandal surrounding her entry, it'll be talked about for years, at least."
The emotional white noise intensified, adding another layer of numbness. "And it'll end up being told by every bard in Greece," she murmured, not really caring who heard her. "This answers so many questions."
She stood abruptly, stalking towards the door. "This means a change in plans, we'll discuss them in the morning," she said offhandedly. Her gaze settled on the bard, on his pale face. He was unimportant, but at the same time inadvertently dangerous in ways he couldn't realise. "Kill him. Make it painless."
In some ways it was a mercy, she told herself as she left the room, tuned out his cries. It wasn't his fault, not really, and this way he'd never know what he'd accidentally set in motion.
She examined the man with disdain. His hands were bound, and a bruise darkened one side of his face, but his clothes were better than that of the average farmer or villager. "What is this?"
"A bard," one of the scouts who'd brought him in replied.
"A bard," Callisto repeated sceptically. "I know you all forgot my birthday, but I already said you don't have to make it up to me."
She could hear a muffled snicker or three from the men, but all her attention was focused on the scout. "We came across him last night," he said. "He offered to share his fire and a story. Fresh from the Academy of Bbards he said it was, prize-winning."
If they'd been riding since last night that would explain why they looked the worse for wear. "I'm assuming there's a point somewhere."
"Yes, ma'am," the scout replied. "After he told his story, I thought that it was something you needed to hear."
"You did?" Well, now that was intriguing. She nodded curtly at the scouts. "You two get something to eat. In the meanwhile I want to hear this story that got such a reaction from my men."
The bard had obviously never had such a well-armed audience, but despite tripping up on his own words several times in the beginning, once he found his rhythm he seemed to slip into a different headspace. One where he didn't notice the room getting quieter as Callisto's expression got stonier, to the point that you could have heard a pin drop after he finished.
Callisto, for her part, was dangerously still. She was vaguely aware of a banked rage being stoked to new levels of fury, but for now that seemed very far away, as if everything was wrapped in a layer of cool, comforting numbness. "And you say this story won at the Academy of Bards?" she asked finally. "The one in Athens?"
The bard nodded. "Best of the entrance exams," he said, then added "Better than what some of the teachers can come with. And with the scandal surrounding her entry, it'll be talked about for years, at least."
The emotional white noise intensified, adding another layer of numbness. "And it'll end up being told by every bard in Greece," she murmured, not really caring who heard her. "This answers so many questions."
She stood abruptly, stalking towards the door. "This means a change in plans, we'll discuss them in the morning," she said offhandedly. Her gaze settled on the bard, on his pale face. He was unimportant, but at the same time inadvertently dangerous in ways he couldn't realise. "Kill him. Make it painless."
In some ways it was a mercy, she told herself as she left the room, tuned out his cries. It wasn't his fault, not really, and this way he'd never know what he'd accidentally set in motion.