“Nope,” the sentry said as he casually passed Bodok in the outdoor training field. “Still not a trace.”
Bodok was coated with a light sheen of sweat as he ran through a series of cardiovascular and flexibility exercises. He looked good. Strong. His repaired runes were greedily absorbing the sun’s energy. He also looked happier than a prisoner should ever look. The sentry’s words took a bit of the shine off his cheery mood.
“That is now two days,” Bodok said, carefully keeping his voice low so as to not be overheard by any of the others training in the area. “She was to have returned the following day.”
“Trust me, I know,” he said, patting his pocket. A pocket that had expected to be filled with more of the servant’s money.
Bodok continued his exercises but was distracted. This was not the plan. “And you say she has not so much as sent so much as a single note?”
“Servants don’t really send other servants on tasks, you know.”
“I am aware.”
“And theynevergain access to restricted facilities.Right?”
Bodok gave a little nod. “Why, I have no idea of what you speak.”
“Exactly. Look, I can’t stay and chat. It’ll draw attention. But if I hear anything I’ll let you know.”
Bodok gave an almost imperceptible nod. “Thank you.”
The sentry just turned and walked away, waving his greeting to the guards across the exercise yard as he returned to the gate to relieve his comrade.
Bodok set back to his training, hefting a sizeable weight, muscling it around his body with a frustrated grunt. His Infala was soaking up the sun’s rays along with the rest of his repaired runes, but it felt off. Hungry for something more. For Maureen. And the discomfort was only growing.
This was not good. Something must have happened. There was no way she would forego their illicit meetings. The problem was, he had no way to find out. She could be anywhere, and he had no way to find out where or why.
The sentry was as helpful as he could be given the circumstances, and while he was unable to make any direct inquiries as to the whereabouts of a particular servant, he was at least able to uncover a few details, though nothing substantial.
There had been no major upheavals in the Tormik estate, and no disturbances of any sort, at least so far as his guard friends had heard. He played off the questions to them as nothing more than curiosity over an overheard conversation. A rumor.
Gossip was something that wouldn’t draw attention like overt questioning would. But in any case, there was no news to report.
The long and short of it was Maureen had gone missing from Bodok’s world. And with the increasing discomfort in his Infala, the how and why wasn’t as important to him as when he might see her again.
His discomfort was apparent to the other combatants training in the facility, and like pack animals sensing weakness, they circled him with ill intent. Bodok was bullied and teased, but rather than engage, he simply turned away and found a different part of the facility to exercise in.
“Look at him. Running away like a coward,” one particularly large man said with a malicious sneer. “He don’t belong in here with us.”
“That’s right,” a wiry, scarred fellow agreed. “This here’s for fighters only. And he’s no fighter.”
“You hear what he did to Jarsuvius?” one of their friends asked.
The big man smiled. “Yeah, got lucky if you ask me. But I hate that four-armed bastard. Glad he lost. Got what was coming to him if you ask me.”
“Sure, but didn’t you hear? This fella wouldn’t finish him. Jarsuvius is going to be back in action in no time.”
He let out an upset groan, not one of them happy with that thought.
“We could have finally been rid of him once and for all. What was he thinking?”
“Not thinking, is more like it,” his slender companion grumbled. “Come on.”
He led the group to where Bodok had relocated, all of them looming with ill will.
“Hey, you. You let Jarsuvius live. You’ve screwed us.”
“I screwed no one,” Bodok replied, moving slowly through a series of stretches.
