---𝐊𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 is three things:
A lover, a psychopath and a liar. Trapped between her own two perfect visions of hell,
Kiara wants to free herself from the service of others, yet her only way out of this trap puts her into servitude of...
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"Kiara. Would you allow me to step outside for a moment?"
She bolted upright, gripping his arm. Eyes wide and scared.
"Why? You aren't giving me to somebody else are you?"
"I will be back," Aaron said soothingly, patting her on the arm and easing her back onto the mattress. "I just need to answer the call of nature."
"I have a chamber pot beneath the bed." Kiara went to reach for it, but the older man stopped her.
'I daren't do that before a lady." Aaron said with an air of the respectable soldier left in him. Miya blushed. He didn't suppose many she met would have such dignity, or call her a lady.
Aaron found the barkeep in the hallway, lugging a cask towards the stairs.
"Fun isn't she?" He grinned as Aaron approached, lowering the heavy cask to the ground with a groan. The retired soldier wanted to bludgeon the man with his own barrel of drink there and then, but he held himself back. His patron would have him hung by the thumbs if he disobeyed his orders. The goal wasn't just to sell or buy from those this far south, the miners and quarrymen, but continued trade. Trade for years to come. Slaying a barman was not going to be good for business.
"How much?" Aaron demanded, dodging the question.
"For what?"
"To buy the girl. I want to take her."
The barkeep laughed. "She isn't for sale."
"All things are for sale."
"She is not. Maybe when she turns of age, but right now, the money, the business, the perks..." The barkeep cracked a wicked smile. "They are just too good for one payment. Sorry, my friend."
The barkeep hauled the cask above his waist and began to amble up the stairs, leaving Bankamp behind, feeling hopeless and defeated. His dejected state only worsened as he entered Kiara's room. She looked up at him, almost happily, as he came back in, before laying back down.
"I was worried you'd leave."
"I paid for this bed 'til morning," Aaron said, sitting back down by her feet, kicking off his boots and making himself as comfy as possible against the hard and cold brickwork. "And I intend to get my money's worth."
Leaving in the morning was one of Aaron's greatest trials, and he'd faced some nasty ones over his years. Prying the girl's tiny fingers from his wrist was made possible only by the promise that he would return that evening, with enough coin to pay for another night in her bedroom.
Kiara's eyes lit brighter than the fire Aaron had rekindled in the hearth to keep them warm through the night, and to stop the girl from stirring in the cold; the shivers of the frozen wastes that encircled her abode crept up on her as she dozed. The young one had slept a deep and long slumber, a rest Bankamp thought was likely to be the first proper one in quite some time.
The inescapable cold couldn't help but remind Bankamp of where he was, and what he was tasked to do. Trade talks were drawn out, weary and tiresome. Aaron often found his mind wandering to Kiara , worrying over her being alone with that detestable barman. When his focus could fall upon trade, it was of ore and smelting.
The mines buried deep in the icy wastes this far south offered riches untold in the warmer and more hospitable lands that the old soldier, and Kiara, hailed from. The mines were manned by many of the grim and lecherous creatures Aaron so eagerly wanted to see castrated and cast outside to shrivel in the cold; it pained him that his hands were so fiercely bound by his duties. A long and fruitful deal meant he needed those workers alive and digging.
A price was agreed, samples were shared, and the owners of the mines were to take him to view their extensive goods and workers the following day, which left Aaron able to keep his promise. A promise he had, in all honesty, not expected to make good on. To leave Kiara like that would have broken his heart, but he knew it would only get worse. He couldn't take her where he was going, and he couldn't stay forever.
As the light dwindled, he wondered about remaining at the inn his Lord had paid for. He thought about staying away from the tavern and letting the memory fade. But it was wasted effort, and he soon found his boots crunching over freshly fallen snow, thick furs wrapped about his wide-set frame, as he marched through the harsh and scarring winds towards the wooden doors of the seedy drinking hole.
Is there no family for you back home?" Aaron dared to ask as the conversation moved away from his explanations of the trade he had travelled for.
Kiara shook her head.
"Ma died many years ago. Grandfather not long before we left. You remind me of him. He was kind." She smiled up at him, before a grin spread across her face. "And old, too."
Bankamp made a look of mock indignation. The spirit in Kiara was a marvel to him. How she could live through the horrors she had, and for so long, and still smile a smile so bright that it warmed like no fire ever could, astounded him. He wondered how long that would last once he was gone.
"Do you have family?"Kiara asked as she gnawed at the bone clutched between her spindly fingers.
It was Aaron's turn to shake his head.
"I was born to be a fighter. Raised to be a warrior and I did my duties until my bones were too weak to hold my shield high enough to protect my fellow men. But while I do still have my youth." He shot Kiara a peevish glare as she snorted with laughter. "I've seen too much..."
A harsh tone wrapped his words. He looked darkly into the fire as it flickered across his troubled eyes. "I couldn't take a wife. Nor settle to a family. I have to keep moving. It's the only way I can outrun the ghosts that chase me."
"Do they follow you so far south?" Kiara was looking up at him with curious wide eyes. Bankamp wasn't sure if she was young and naive enough to believe he was talking of actual ghosts.
"They will eventually." He replied with certainty.
The two remained quiet for a while. The silence broken only by the crackling of the fire and the occasional thud of boots on the floor above.
