The Rebel Woman ( 1 )

      Governor Pilim looked over all the papers pilling up on his desk. True, Aridaen had grown to prosper financially over the few years that he had gained control of the region, but it had been at a cost. And now, having gotten a little too old for the entertaining Aristo fun-and-games of the Court, he relegated himself to digging in deep for a long, boring, but necessary haul ahead. He’d fought for so long to have this title, that he wasn’t going to let some little thing like misplaced or misfiled paperwork get in the way of him keeping it. No matter how monotonous.

         But still, he couldn’t help to think of what was; what trash he had cleaned out from the region, only to realize he missed some of the revelry that it had caused. He couldn’t help but think that those years of strategic give and take with those damn Rebels hadn’t actually been… fun.

         But what does it matter, he thought to himself. I’ve got the power now, the peace, the wealth, the women. I am the Governor. In my land, I am everything. He went to the window-doors overlooking the balcony, and looked out. The view covered everything of any importance in his capital city. He saw the children of the merchant-rat women playing in the square, and a few men trying to sell cuts of fresh game. All of them his, and though they both knew it, only they feared that fact. They lived with the realization that any day, he could say one word, and all of them would be dead. Of course, no self-respecting person had to worry, as long as they proved their loyalty to him and the Crown.

         A gentle tap at the door dragged him back from his morbid daydreaming. Before he could slowly turn around, the faint jingle gave his visitor away. Pilim sighed, and turned to look at the now familiar face, and felt resentment welling up. The heavily perfumed man wore exotic, colorful robes, and an earring with a bell. The outfit aside, the only thing on him that gave away his Race were the disturbing red eyes, characteristic of the Blaerokians, or People of the Flame. And as such, Pilim had resigned long ago that whatever justice, whatever honor he had entered this land with, that man had burned out of him long ago.

         “M‘Lord, I wasn’t sure if you had heard, so I felt it important to come right over. I mean, I do need to stretch these legs once in a while, so what better reason then to pay my Governor a visit“. He moved briskly, and dramatically threw himself into a chair. The earring jingled again, and Pilim went to his desk. No one would have, could have dared be so damn brazen around him, except for this man, Advisor Leowiden.

         “What do you want, Leowiden?” The tone wasn’t harsh, but commanding. Leowiden looked up from his lounging and frowned.

         “Aw, no fun talk? But I was so looking forward to pleasantries and chit-chat.” Pilim stared hard, and the Advisor threw up his arms and huffed. “Oh, fine. You become more of an old-fart nowadays anyways. I overheard some of the guards talking about how they had gotten new intelligence regarding that rebel leader you’ve been looking for, for so long. Well, this is totally going to knock you off your feet. Not only was our insider invited to a birthday party they’re throwing soon, but, get this, the high and mighty leader is actually a woman.” Pilim’s eyes grew wide, but Leowiden ignored him. “And to make it even more interesting, apparently our little insiders managed to invite all, and I mean all, of the ranking Rebels in the region. So I guess, if your High General isn’t a complete idiot, he’s going to be coming by today to ask for permission for a full Corp raid.”

         Pilim just sat there, chewing over all of that information. He slowly rubbed his throat, in an old habit sort of way. The Advisor, slightly grinning to himself, stretched and yawned. “Pilim, I can’t believe I’m the one that had to tell you that first. Well, I guess since you’ve got all your fancy paperwork to do now, I’ll let you go. Ta-Ta old fart.” He got up, and almost skipped out the door, only stopping to turn back at the frame. “Oh, one more thing. I took the liberty of checking your astro-charts for the week. Try and stay away from spicy food. Your indigestion’s coming back with a vengeance.” And with that he flounced off.

         Pilim got up, and slowly walked over to the balcony. He toyed with a glass paperweight that held a picture of Aridaen’s Shield. The little shield had a beautiful rendition of a bare woman holding the sun and moon in her hands, and breathing a gust of  wind into the sky, creating clouds and stars. It was the shining symbol of all that is and was Aridaen. He turned around and hucked it across his office as hard as he could, having it shatter on the opposite wall. How he hated that man, and how he hated himself for not knowing what it could have meant to give him his alliance all those years ago. He rubbed his throat, took a slow breath, and looked around. Where had he put those damn antacids?