Pronunciation: Ler-is Veth-na
AKA: Mantis, Band of Two
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown
Motto: The world is my oyster
Desires: To experience new and exotic cultures
Weapon of Choice: Javelin
Description: I, too, had improved. I’d grown into my nose, which had seemed overlarge on my adolescent face, and my lean limbs and chest had acquired some breadth in manhood–if not enough to match Diomedes’ broad wrestler’s form. Certainly, my face could never rival his. The scar on my cheek puckered the surrounding skin, ruining its symmetry. I’d scrutinized myself more than once and seen the scarred cheek was flatter, as if the bone beneath had broken and knitted incorrectly. At times I’d looked in my mother’s mirror and saw only ugliness. But, having lived amongst mercenaries and seen so many changed by battle, I’d grown accustomed to my face. None of us lacked flaws and scars. I was not the ugliest of the lot, and little it mattered when the main business was killing.
Discussion Questions For Leures?
- Does Leures really commune with the gods?
- Do you have a favorite scene?
- What’s your favorite quote?
- Is his desire to ‘experience’ the world related to his illness?
- Does his relationship with Diomedes touch you?
- What should Leures have done differently?
I wanted to tell him I’d missed him. Wanted to describe how I felt in the mine–suffocated and all-over sore, with an ache so strong and constant I couldn’t remember the absence of pain. Wanted to confess I’d called on Rath; ask Velthr to appease the god of the Grey Grove and free me. Silent, I ate. He watched a long while without speaking, and I began to wish he’d go. I listened, staring at the floor, when he told me about the rites he’d performed for Ati and where she’d been entombed. He’d bought a good urn for her; given her a better burial than most slaves. “Thank you.” I glanced up at him, and our eyes met. “Not long, Leures,” he murmured. “The omens say you won’t be here long.” The only men who leave the mines are the dead. I’d not told Velthr that, but after he’d gone, and I lay on my pallet waiting for sleep, I reflected on his omen. Nothing in life was as I’d planned or expected. Grand dreams for Ati and me were no more than mist. And yet, despite the grinding agony of my days, I didn’t want their end. I wanted life. Long life.
GATES THE HOURS KEEP