The Devil's Smile

Chapter 24

Amina rolled onto her side and pulled a pillow to her chest as she cuddled down into the soft silky blankets. Slowly she started to remember the last time she had been awake. The room smelled of stew or soup or something good. Her stomach growled. Amina opened her eyes and stretched, wondering if it had all been a dream. She still felt sore but it was nothing like what she remembered.

As Amina sat up a dull ache throbbed in her skull and she lifted her hand to the side of her head where she found a tender knot the size of a small egg. Proof that it hadn't been a dream. But at least her legs were working and when she sat on the edge of the bed it didn't take near the effort that it had before. Her robe was laid across the foot of the bed and she pulled it on over the shift. Looking around the room she saw that her rugs were gone and her pitcher was different. He must have come in and cleaned everything up while I was unconscious, she thought uncertainly.

Amina made her way over to the fire, found a bowl and spoon, and carefully scooped some of the meaty broth out of the pot. The stones were cold under her feet and sent a chill through her. She wondered if she'd be able to get the rugs replaced. They made a big difference. She sat down in the chair at the small table in her room and ate slowly. It wasn't great stew, but she instantly felt better as it filled her empty stomach.

Moras watched from the shadows as Amina got up and made herself a bowl of stew. She was obviously unsteady, but relief coursed through him as he realized she would be okay. He slunk into the darkness and quietly opened her storeroom removed a loaf of bread and some cheese, then crept back to her room. She was sitting with her eyes closed as she chewed a small bite of stew. Her head must still hurt, he thought.

Indecision halted his steps. He didn't want to upset her, but he wanted to know how she was going to be with him now. He could wait until she came looking for him again, but his guilty conscience would gnaw at him until he apologized. Then again he would feel even worse if he went in to talk to her and only made her upset in addition to having made her sick. Finally he began to annoy himself again. When did I stop being a man with women, he asked himself in frustration. He strode into the room and cleared his throat so that she'd hear him coming.

Amina jumped at the sudden strange noise that assaulted her hears over the sound of the crackling fire. Moras flinched when she reacted to his approach with fear. He was already anticipating her screaming when she looked at him. But Amina gave him a solid glare, speaking of any number of emotions, none of which had anything to do with fear.

"A gentleman knocks to announce his presence. I don't appreciate being snuck up on, Lord Cro," Amina said in a quiet but authoritative tone that spoke of her pounding headache.

Moras couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as she glared at and reprimanded him.

"I'm glad you find it amusing," she said angrily and went back to her stew.

Moras sat the bread and cheese on the table in front of her. "Do you want some tea," he suggested and without waiting for an answer he went over to the fire, poured some water from the new pitcher into the cast iron kettle and placed it in the fire.

Amina broke a piece of the bread off of the loaf and dipped it in the stew broth. She chewed slowly as Moras went about producing two mugs for the tea and a tea pot. He seemed to know her room almost better than she did.

He cleared his throat again. "Are you feeling better?" Moras squatted down near the fire and used the poker to move the logs about.

Amina finished chewing. "A little." There was another long silence, while Amina watched him play in the fire. She thought about some of her friends and how the guys always liked to mess with the fire. She wondered if it was male nature to be drawn to the flames. "My head hurts pretty badly," she said in a nervous sounding voice.

Moras stood up and looked at her. He stared into her eyes intently, as if he was trying to look inside her. The intensity caused Amina to turn her attention back to the mostly empty stew bowl.

"Here," he said and produced a small pouch of herbs from one of his pockets. "This should help."

Amina opened the pouch and looked inside. She recognized a number of the herbs and nodded. She figured that she could add some of it to her tea. "Thank you," she said and then there was more silence. She really didn't know how to act. She kept seeing flashes of what had happened go through her mind. Amina accepted that this was her life now. Whatever he was and whatever he was going to do, she would have to either live with it or ask him to kill her. She wasn't ready for that yet, though she was understanding why the others had chosen death in the end.

"You're thinking very hard," Moras said.

Amina looked up and saw the concern on his face. "I guess I am."

Moras nodded, poured the tea, and came over to the table. He plucked the bag of herbs up and put a few pinches into her cup before handing it to her. "May I ask what's making your brow furrow so deeply?"

Amina could almost feel the resignation and concern weighted in the words. "I'm not ready to die yet, if that's what you're asking."

Moras's eyes bored into her. "Good."

They sat in silence some more. Neither of them knew what was supposed to come next. Moras was getting frustrated again. It was as if now he knew she was alright and wasn't going to volunteer to be put out on the slab in front of his cave, his mind was reverting to safer feelings. Anger was the one he felt most comfortable in.

When Moras started tapping his fingers impatiently Amina broke the silence again. "Will it always be like that," she asked softly.

Moras's tone was harsher than he had intended. "How long have you been sitting there stewing to ask me that?"

"I'm not trying to insult you," she replied defensively. "I just want to know what comes next."

Moras stood up and paced away from her. "No, it shouldn't always be like that." He knew that she didn't realize it was his fault and he didn't want to admit to it. If she didn't hate him now, he figured she would the minute she realized that he had been playing games and risked her life over trying to make a point to her. He waited for her to ask why it had been so bad that time. But the question never came.

"I'm tired," Amina said finally. She didn't want to sit there with her aching head and watch him fume. She didn't even know what she had said that was so terrible and she didn't feel like figuring it out right then. "Do you mind if I just go to sleep now?"

Moras glared at her. Was she actually dismissing him? He growled. "Fine. I'll be back to check on you in a few hours."

Amina nodded. She didn't plan on being awake in a few hours. But if agreeing would make him go away for now she'd do whatever she needed to.

His boots could be heard retreating down the hall and then her door slammed shut. Amina didn't bother to pick up the dishes or the food. She wanted to be asleep again. Amina pulled the blankets back, dropped her robe across the foot the bed, and climbed into the cool silky sheets. She sunk down into the soft bedding and was asleep almost instantly.

Moras checked on Amina several times over the next few days. She was always asleep. He started to wonder if she was sleeping so much because of what had happened or if she was just avoiding him. In order to take up time while he waited for her to wake, he had started to pull the rugs up from the floor in Elizabeth's rooms so that he could put them down in Amina's rooms. He had been reluctant to enter the dust covered hall. There were so many ghosts of memories hidden behind those doors.

Moras stared at the rugs on the floor and wondered if it would be easier to clean the mess from the rugs that had been in Amina's room. He was looking over the layer of dust and trying to guesstimate how many times he would have to beat the damn things to knock the time from them versus how much water and soap it would take to clean the bile and urine off the others. He smiled to himself, wondering what the druids would think if he left the rugs outside with a note asking for them to be cleaned.

Suddenly sadness descending on him like a tidal wave. He looked up and ran his eyes over the things in the room. He couldn't take Elizabeth's rugs out of here. They belonged here. He turned and left the room, closed the door quietly, wishing he had never gone back in there, and went to find the soiled rugs to clean them.

Amina lay in her bed staring at the ceiling. She hadn't left the bed except to eat and use the chamber pot. A couple times she had heard her door open. She would lay still and keep her eyes closed. She didn't think he ever came all the way into the room. As far as she could tell he just looked in and then left again. Amina wasn't really sure why he kept coming back. She hoped he wasn't still hungry. She was only barely feeling better from the last round and didn't think that she could handle going through that again already.

The tired feeling had left her and Amina was becoming restless. She memorized every crevice in the ceiling. It was the only part of the room that looked like cave. What she really wanted was to see the stars, her friends, grass, so many things. She thought back to the shaft that she had seen in Moras's room and wondered if it was the only view of the sky inside these caves. She was starting to really feel the loneliness here. It was one of the things that made her feel bad for Moras. Amina had always been very logical. She knew that no matter how lonely she might feel, Moras had been dealing with this awful place a lot longer.

The sigh that escaped her lips almost startled her. Amina didn't even realize how long it had been since she had said something. Even the sound of a sigh seemed loud and inappropriate. By all the Gods I can't live like this, she thought. I need to see the sky and to feel the breeze and the rain. I need to speak and sing. I need someone. Tears started to form in her eyes.

Throwing the blankets back, Amina sat on the edge of the bed. She braced herself for the jolting cold of the stone floor beneath her feet. The chill that ran through her was exceedingly unpleasant after she had spent so much time in her nice warm bed. Throwing open her closet doors she found a simple dress and pulled it on. Then she slid her feet into a soft pair of shoes, deciding to leave them near the bed in the future. Maybe I can ask Moras to get me some slippers, if he'll even talk with me.

Amina had found herself wondering if she had been wrong. At first she had believed that Moras wanted girls around because he was lonely and wanted a friend as well as food. But the more he growled and glared, the more Amina found herself doubting that original conclusion. He was mean and unpleasant no matter what she said. She didn't know what to do.