Waking with a cough more death rattle than mere clearing of sabulous throat, Arshad flexed his arms and discovered he was bound, quite tightly, to a rather uncomfortable chair. “Is this really necessary?” he said.
Olivare, sitting opposite him, looked up from dismantling one of his prized short bows. “I’ve had a most interesting chat with your amanuensis. It seems you have been remiss in advising the Tavashanar of your…expedition.”
Arshad shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. “Better to seize your quarry, than report mere discovery.”
She pursed her lips. “This isn’t about them. You. You need something. Why come for me?”
(Written for The Prediction. Challenge words: amanuensis, bow, rattle)