The Gift

Before I knew what was happening I was escorted out of the tent and lead to another large tent about fifty feet from Monroe’s.  I was stopped at the door by one of the militia-men.  Sebastian Monroe entered the tent with a smile on his face.  The canvas walls were so thin that I could hear every word being said.  “What do you want now?” Said a surly voice unknown to me.  “I know that you’ve been restless lately.  I come bearing a gift.  Something sure to relieve your stress” Monroe replied.  I was to be a gift.  A stress reliever, no less.  I had never been so frightened in my life.  Once, when I was a child, I had been bitten by a snake.  Everyone thought I was going to die, myself included.  But I didn’t.  Perhaps that’s why I equated Monroe with a snake.  They’re still my greatest fear. And now here I was, being handed over to who was no doubt a ruthless man.  “I have plenty of swords” the surly man replied.  “I’m sure you do.  Which is why I went to the trouble and expense to bring you something pretty.”  I was something pretty.  Pride almost brought a smile to my face before the fear overtook it.  “Pretty.  Hmh.  Let’s see it.”  Said the man I now belonged to.  Monroe opened the tent flap and when I didn’t enter on my own he seized my hand and practically dragged me in. 

Please God, please let the surly man be kind, I begged silently.  It would take me a long time to determine just what kind of man he was because at that moment I was taken with how beautiful he looked.  Not beautiful in a pretty way, but in a rugged, manly way.  He was tall and wore his brown hair just long enough, but it was his deep, dark eyes that fixed me where I stood.  I didn’t sense any evil in them.  Just confusion and determination.  I was no longer afraid of him but I can’t say I was overjoyed to belong to him.  For his part, he looked more perplexed than anything.  He looked into my soft blue eyes, the opposite of his hard, dark ones, and I could almost sense that he felt sorry for me.  Surprisingly, I didn’t want him to.  I stood taller and lifted my chin defiantly.  He looked over at Monroe, then back at me, and then at Monroe again.  He was speechless.  Though I doubted it had to do with my looks as much as my presence in his tent.  “What are you doing here?” He asked me, not unkindly.  “I brought her for you, a gift.  To show my gratitude for your faithful service.” Monroe interrupted.  The surly man, no longer so surly, never took his eyes off of me.  “Why are you here?” he asked me again.  This time I spoke up before Monroe could answer for me, “Well I certainly didn’t volunteer for this…mission.”  I replied, choosing my words carefully but with all the menace I could muster.  Monroe shook his head, “Perhaps this was a bad idea” he mumbled.  But the surly man smiled at me and held out his hand, “I’m Miles” he said.  I took his hand and was surprised when he took it and brought it within an inch of his lips.  “And you are?” he whispered?  I was momentarily transfixed by the fire and warmth emanating from his deep brown eyes, “Lily” was all I could manage.  “Lily, a pretty name for a pretty girl.”  Miles turned to Monroe, “You can leave now Sebastian.  Many thanks for my pretty new gift.”  Monroe smiled, mollified.  “Stick with me and you’ll have plenty of pretty rewards.”  With that, Monroe turned and left, leaving Miles and I alone. 

Miles immediately dropped my hand and turned away from me.  He grabbed a large, ornate sword and held it up as if to inspect it.  Fear crept into my gut.  What kind of man was this Miles?  I didn’t see a monster behind his eyes but eyes can lie.  Miles sat down on the only chair in the room and lay the sword down on a small table.  He pulled out a cloth and started polishing it.  Presumably this is what he’d been doing when Monroe interrupted him with me.  Me.  What the hell about me?  “Excuse me?” I asked indignantly.  “Yes?” He asked, not bothering to look up from polishing his sword.  “What about me?”  I asked.  “What about you, indeed.”  He replied.  Perplexed, I went on, “What are you going to do with me?  If you’re going to ignore me can I at least get some water?”  I asked with more bravery than I felt.  “There’s some on top of that dresser in the corner, help yourself” he replied.  Now I was getting annoyed but the logical part of my brain told my emotions to shut up, at least he hasn’t touched you.  Yet.  A small voice added.  A shiver of fear ran through me; I didn’t want that, did I?  I was too frightened to answer my own question.  To afraid of what the answer might be.  Fear was not my friend, so I faked bravado instead.  “Perhaps I’ll just go find some fresher stuff.” I replied.  Daring him to stop me.  “You do that” he replied without looking away from his work.  “Really?” I stammered.  Perhaps I could get myself out of this mess.  After all, it seemed he wanted nothing to do with me!  “Really.  But I’m not going to come save you from the hundreds of lonely militia-men out there.”  Oh, I thought.  Damn.  I’d forgotten about them in my zeal to escape the confines of this man’s tent. 

I looked around me for the first time.  There was indeed a dresser in the corner with a pitcher of water and a single glass.  In another corner was a slim bed.  Briefly I wondered how such a tall man could rest comfortably on such a small bed, then for reasons I couldn’t comprehend, my cheeks flushed crimson.  I immediately looked away and his eyes caught mine.  He’d caught me looking at his bed with rosy cheeks.  What must he be thinking?  I wanted to tear my eyes from his but I was unable.  Finally, he looked back down at his sword and continued polishing.  I turned my head away from him as quickly as possible and shut my eyes tight.  “Look,” he said, coming to some inner conclusion.  “I don’t want you here any more than you want to be here but right now I can’t see a way out of this for either of us.  If you leave me willingly you won’t get far before those animals Monroe calls a militia get to you.  You wouldn’t stand a chance.  If I kick you out, same thing.  Or best case scenario for you, Monroe passes you along to another of his commanders.  Do any of these outcomes sound good to you?”  Finally he looked up and our eyes met again.  “No,” I sighed.  “So what are we going to do?”  “We.” He said, and kind of laughed.  It was barely a laugh but I felt relieved at the sound of it.  “Ten minutes ago I was sitting alone in peace, polishing my weapons.  Now I’m part of a ‘We.’  How did that happen?”  He said, shaking his head.  “Monroe.” We said with simultaneous disgust.  “Alright.  You may as well have a seat.  You’re probably going to be here for a while.”  I looked around and realized to my dismay that he was sitting on the only chair in the room.  I looked about again, there must be something else to sit on.  Something other than…his bed.  I sighed inwardly, OK this was awkward but I had to be brave.  So I was and I perched on the very edge of his bed, as far away from him as possible.  “Yeah, this is going to work out great” he said sarcastically, and I whole-hardheartedly agreed.