Mathor Makes A Decision

originally posted February 22, 2006



"Greetings Poet," Mathor offered. It was between the second and third ahn. He was seated by a small fire kept stoked before our tents. The women; first girl, companion and whores, slept within those tents. "If I woke you, I am terribly sorry." He offered.
"It is nothing, fellow," I replied. He was cleaning his blade. There was blood, I noted. Tasta, I noted as well, seemed particularly aroused. She patrolled the permiter, lifting her chin now and again. Excited. Very much on edge. Her tail twitched. She stank of eagerness. "You evening has been quiet? You've had time to sleep?" I asked.
"Utterly uneventful," he lied. It was not a lie I chose to question. Mathor is paid well. There are other assignments he might take. He chose to remain in the Anbar when the Poet Szol usurped his employer. He is a good sort. Quiet, strong of character. "We should leave the road tomorrow," he told me. "Find another."
"I leave that decision to you," I responded.