Mara stood, knife in hand staring at the man. She had not expected sympathy for a fallen comrade from his type, but still it shocked her as he began to laugh.
"Ha! Well, you have won nothing, nothing. You truly think I cared about that sniveling bastard? He's from Mordor, shadowy, a spy. I hate spies. Can't do anything in th open or they'd get killed. Have to be sneakin' around. He's one less person for me to deal with. To, supposively, "depend on", as he kept sayin'."
Mara stood quietly, there was no need to reply to this. She had no wish to waste words on this man.
"Now, you just tell me what you heard, and maybe you'll have a part in it,"
"I'll need men, little missy. But remember- you're a little missy. You'll remain in your place,"
Suddenly rage white and strong boiled up in Mara again. She spat at his feet with a smile.
"Why would I want anything to do with your business?" she asked, the knife still held clearly in his view.
"For the money" he replied simply, the sneer unchanging on his face. Mara considered. She certainly needed money, but was the need desperate enough to work with this man? Her hand itched for wanting to get the sneer off his face.
Mara paused then smiled again.
"I'll help you get your little flower," she said "for a guaranteed half cut of the profits. So if you want to get more men it'll be at your expense."
She paused, waiting. Despite the look of disdain on his face she was confident he would accept. She knew she was good and he had seen her at her best. And if they spent more time together, an oppurtunity would present itself to get rid of his sneer. All she had to do is wait...
[ March 29, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]
[ March 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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“Sylphs of the forest,” I whispered. “Spirits of oak, beech and ash. Dryads of Rowan and hazel, hear us. You who have guided and guarded our every footstep, you who have sheltered our growth, we honour you."
the Forbidden Link
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