protector, to go out, not even for his own needs, but for mine. I am not sure whether I should feel wary for him or not, not because I don’t know if it is permissible or dangerous, but because I am wary presently.
“It is disallowed…but because I am your guardian I feel we could make accomodations for your…security,” he looks at me questioningly. “Lyra? I need you to answer me before I may think of how to plan it and go.”
I nod a little, taking my time to warm up to the idea of him caring enough to do this. Do I look like his sister?
He straightens to my response, and looks at me as though judging and charting something I couldn’t see. He then looks down.
“I will have to call on Arturo…” He says it as though speaking to himself and I stand watching him as he contemplates deeply. He tunes back in as though just noticing me for the few seconds of absence. “Are you able to walk a distance?” He inquires purposefully.
I look at him still from my place at the door, unsure. I nod.
He watches me a moment longer. Then he seems to remember. He gently adds in. “When you feel the need, there are cucumbers and nosh upon the table, please help yourself…what would you like?”
I take a moment to understand his question.
He notices the confusion and clears it for me. “Shopping-wise.”
“Isn’t it…not safe?” I inquire uncertainly. I feel resistant to ask but seeing no regret or softness to my request I continue. “Couldn’t your Commandant find out…or if anyone noticed…”
He shakes his head assuredly. “Today is generally my shift…we take turns walking through the streets so that there are not too many in number. If I am there at the time I usually am then it should be of no trouble to the others. I will have to be careful though.”
I am too taken back to think straight. “Why?”
He looks lost.
“Why are you doing this?”
His face is expressionless. “Someone has to do what is right.” It comes out firm and sincere.
It makes sense and it makes me senseless.
He watches me quietly. “Food? Or…no…I have enough of that…do you enjoy reading?”
At the first part I realize with a little resentment, that the storage he has is filled with everything we’ve eaten so far. A little envy and anger at the Spanish fleet for having such provisions and us nothing glints in the bottom of my gut, but at the second part I feel my heart spiral with undeniable delight that plummets to guilt. I have never been offered such things. Never have I been spoilt.
“I would love to read…if I ever did…”
He looks at me frowning thoughtfully. “You have never read?”
I look him in the eyes. “Not these past few years of…disadvantage. When I was little I used to learn how to read signs and occasional lines in the letters my vader received…but the books my moeder once had owned I didn’t get to…” He looks confused. I quickly fill up the space of absence. “We had to sell her few copies for necessities.”
He seems to understand. “I aim to mend that by tomorrow. What are your favorite genres?”
“Poetry, I enjoy poetry.”
I love to read anything, but poetry is different somehow. Maybe because vader used to make poems about silly things with me when I was young or maybe just because of the tangled secrecy in each individual writing, all I knew, was each one left me breathless for more, and every time I read another the more breathless I got.
“I know of a small outer shop for books and written works…and little to your liking goes in there without poetry…though heroics…” I grimace.
“I do not enjoy the bold show-offs of those who wish to be recorded…biopics…no. I enjoy fiction with history.”
He nods. “Then this is the place…I will guide you away from my favorite sections of heroism then, and try to find you a lady’s proper guide to pleasure.”
I swallow. It takes me a moment to get my voice to come back to me to say the words. “I do not want
Robert Asprin, Lynn Abbey