073

"And you Censor?" Eonus continued.

"Gregor, my name is Gregor. I've been here almost two weeks now. I was on a routine polling of the populace, when the Skulled ones came upon my Lictors and I." Gregor lied with practiced ease, the duties of a Censor to the Electorate were often secretive in nature and the current call back to Ayrillac was no different. In fact the reason for the call was still, and would likely remain, a secret to Gregor.

"Did any of your men survive?"

"No." Saying this aloud was difficult. Some of those men had been with Gregor for years. "Not that I know of."

"Do you think that they will let us go."

"I don't know Eonus. Frankly I don't know why I'm still alive. And I don't know why you're still here. I faced no meeting like you, so I'm even more in the dark as to why were here."

"If they'd have wanted us dead they could have killed us at any time."

"I suppose. I can't hope to know what they're planning."

The conversation hung there in the air with neither of the two men speaking. Gregor soon began to hear the steady deep breathing of Eonus as the man slept. Gregor wanted to cry. His insides felt as though he should be sobbing as he curled himself into a ball on the ground. But no tears would come.

Gregor sat at his desk trying to find the latest tax totals to send to Ayrillac, but something wasn't right. He just couldn't find the correct papers. Everything he looked at just wasn't right. The words were mixed up and not matter which paper he looked at the paper that he needed just wasn't there. Blackness.

Light came in through Gregor's eyelids and he blinked rapidly easing the pane. He pushed himself onto his knees. An early-morning grimace formed on his face as he looked around squinting his eyes until his was able to fully take in the light. The giant horses regarded him as they lazily ate grass. They no longer seemed to mind having Gregor share their picket with them. Eonus was no where to be found.

The Skulled Ones were busy down by the main camp. A cook fire was burning brightly creating the glowing coals that would be used to roast root vegetables. Two men sat laughing and talking by the fire. Cook duty, Gregor assumed. The camp seemed louder then it had since Gregor had been captured. There was a lightness and comfort in the movement of the Skulled Ones that Gregor had not seen before. If he had woken with amnesia Gregor could have assumed that the fire were on a vacation instead part of some strange foreign force or murderers.