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"Sure." You say.
Medana is so efficient that within the minute you are both cutting vegetables and meats into a boiling pot of broth. In the twenty minutes it takes you to finish preparations you have worked a healthy appetite. Watching the woman work was also a bonus treat. She is fit and reasonably tall, and her manly clothing betray a hidden femininity that you get to glimpse as she cooks.
You take a seat on a small log while she cross her legs on the dew-wet grass.
"Are the others not going to join us?" You ask.
"No. They sleep in."
You glance around you looking for the Sheish or signs of anyone you recognize but seems you two are alone, for now. "Captain sleeps in too." Medana says, guessing your concerns. You shrug.
The food is very well seasoned with all sorts of spices from the west - peppers, roots and leaves with sweet, spicy and savory smells. The meat and vegetables melt in your mouth like butter. It feels good finally eating well for once.
After you are done, Medana washes your dishes. She gathers three full plates and dexterously takes them inside on one arm. If that woman is half as good with her sword as she is with food you'd dread to be her enemy.
As the sky turns a pinksh red, then a light blue, you contemplate your day ahead of you. You can hear the women waking up from the windows of the wagon.
"Breakfast in bed, huh? They sure have a good life here." You think out loud.
"They do." You turn around to see who was eavesdropping on your moment of peace, and see Sivor approaching. He looks like a mistreated dog. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."
"You didn't." You respond.
He seems to want to talk, but doesn't have the balls to come forth and say it outright. You assume he is either too proud to ask for some food, or doesn't want you around. For a moment you forgot that you also hold the boy's pay. That could be it too.
<span class="mu-i">Daddy Sammyak cut you off, boy, and now you come crawling to butter up the man that holds your purse by the nuts.</span> Those are some petty words, but your still hurting bruises justify a little pettiness, you think.
>A - Fuck him. Get up and make yourself scarce. You will deal with him when you have to. Go back to the master Chet, he must be worried.
>B - Resign yourself and invite Sivor to eat. Might as well introduce yourselves now and get it over with.
>C - Ignore Sivor and get yourself another serving. If he wants to talk, he will have to find his own courage and humility.
>D - Something else?
