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Sophia Wildwood
“That piece of information must
rest silent on your lips.” Gaius looked her in the eye, aware of her expression
of surprise. He had been leading Arsinoe along the docks, but abruptly turned
to right, up a small flight of stairs carved into a hill. Knowing better than
to press him further, Arsinoe kept quiet, but was shocked when her led her into
a local gaming house, known for its less then well-respected clientele.
Assuming he did not know the reputation of the establishment they were about to
enter, Arsinoe grabbed his arm.
“I
would not go in there if I were you – if you are hungry I can go in a bring you
out something.” She looked at him earnestly.
“That
wont be necessary,” he said, staring pointedly at her hand on his arm.
Embarrassed, she dropped it. “I know this establishment well and it is aptly
suited to our purpose. Swallowing, Arsinoe nodded her assent as they entered
the dark room, smokey from fire and smelling like wine. People from the lower
classes filled up the gaming tables, playing dice and knucklebones and drinking
from large metal cups and pitchers. A few were having roast meat and fresh
baked bread; others were merely fishing out figs from the house stores. Leading
her through the small maze of tables and chairs, Gaius chose the table in the
darkest and most secluded corner of the establishment. Arsinoe could not help
but notice that the eyes that had followed them as they entered had not left
them. Grabbing wine and bread at the bar, Gaius had set up a virtual feast on the
table and Arsinoe even noticed he had snagged some dice. So it is true, dice
is the downfall of the elite. But Gaius
paid no attention to the dice, nor to the bread, which Arsinoe tore into.
“We
must not talk of what has brought us together, and what has yet to be done.”
