angienano's Journal

Chunk 15
OK, I've been stuck and this is a really lousy time to be stuck. :/ I managed to break 30K words, which is where I should've been at this time last night, if I wanted to have any hope at all of hitting 50K on time. I'm really doubting I'm going to make the deadline, but I'll keep pushing and see how far I can get. [sigh]

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Luka thought about addressing the Molani emperor as "Gramp" and decided to save it for some time when he'd become weary of life. Or perhaps for a time when he was travelling in some foreign land, several months' travel distant, and sending a message back.

He was as close to relaxing as he'd come since the seige had begun, until Roscha banked the fire and lay down on one of the blankets, then pulled the other one over him and patted the space next to him, obviously expecting Luka to come sleep near him. Luka scowled, but before he could object, Roscha said, "You need to be near me. Their water skins are full of beer and they've been drinking it all day. If we're obviously together, they'll leave you alone."

Once it'd been brought to his attention, it was obvious that the soldiers across the clearing were nowhere near settling down for the night. They were as raucus as any he'd ever camped with and clearly enjoying their drink. It wouldn't have been a problem if he'd been a free man; he could handle any six amorous drunks, or even a shamed and murderous drunk.

But he couldn't fight back. And right then he felt as much like an owned piece of flesh as any slave in a mine with an iron collar around his throat.

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