"And what was that all about?" The voice came coolly from the doorway, its origins residing in a man of younger years to the lady of the settlement. "Making a display of yerself for what? For a pittance of stone we can hew out of the rock in the quarry in a few hours?"
Zillee shifted in her chair, her only acknowledgement of the criticism as she continued to read through the latest messages that a lad had brought up to her in the main hall of the castle.
"I don't know why ye get so worked up over ... nothing," the man continued. "It's not like we're in dire need, with the gifts that keep coming."
"Alex, ye know nothing. We need ... all we can get if we're gonna be ready before the shield lifts. If I'm harsh, it's because I have to be," she finally replied. Zillee looked up, eyeing her brother with slight exasperation. "Time is running out. We have to be ready."
He crossed the flagstones of the floor to where the long table was set in the centre of the hall. "What do ye think will happen when the protection lifts, Zillee?" he asked more gently. "Hordes of orcs crashing through the gates? Armies laying seige from all quarters? Ye worry too much."
He moved around the table to stand at one side of her chair, reading the letters over her shoulder. His eye caught one that his sister had just finished writing, a reply of thanks for the last caravan of welcoming goods that had arrived at Booshka. "Ye could be a little more gracious, ye know, in yer wording," he observed drily.
"Never asked for their help," she muttered, picking up the parchment in question and folding it up ready to be sealed.
"No, you didn't," Alex acknowledged. "But I bet ye aren't gonna return them either." He smirked as he spied the small smile on her lips. Point. "Can't ye just accept them for what they are? Gifts of welcome, ye stubborn idiot."
"Nothing comes for free," Zillee replied, her lips setting into a thin line. "There is always a price."
Alex shrugged. "Worry about that later, eh. For now, as ye said, we need all we can get. What's this?" He picked up another letter, skimming it briefly. "Seems like a good offer this. But where the feth is Windlost?"
"No idea," she said. "Doesn't matter. I've put them off for now. We'll be fine on our own."
Alex fell silent, contemplating his sister as she hunched over the plans for the library expansion. She looked tired, strung out. And it had only been a few days since they'd arrived and Booshka had been founded. "Come with me," he said softly, and pushed the plans away, taking her hand and leading her back outside. A few minutes later they were climbing the steps that led up the side of partially constructed walls.
"Look," he said, directing her gaze to the land before them. It was a pleasant view, predominantly green plains with clusters of trees sporadically placed. In the distance a range of mountains and to the north denser forests. And all about, in every direction, other settlements. One in particular rather imposing and only a short walk away. "We will not be able to sneeze soon enough without our neighbours calling out 'bless you'. Is this where you want to be?" he asked.
"It's the land we were given," Zillee replied slowly, but with a frown.
"There are alternatives," Alex said simply. "Don't cut us off, Zil, don't isolate us because of some misplaced sense of pride."
She glared at him. "If ye weren't my brother I'd have yer tongue for that," she snapped.
He folded his arms and stared back at her. No smile now, just a look of steady regard. "Think about it."
Zillee squeezed her eyes shut as she fought back the desire to smack his smug face. By the stars, she hated it when he was right. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes and made her way back down, heading to the library. Where the feth was Windlost anyway?
Edited by Zillee - 11 Oct 2011 at 05:57
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Meanwhile, In Tor Carrock ...
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