20
Tonight the pit master had come with me to the cell of the peasant.
Sometimes I thought the prisoner might be dead. He was so still.
But then he would open his eyes.
“Greetings, Master,” I would say to him, for he was a free man. Then I would attend to my duties in the cell. Later I would return to the quarters of the pit master. I had never again attempted to taunt him, as I had once.
The pit master, tonight, sat for a time, cross-legged, before the peasant. It was almost as though they were both warriors. Neither spoke.
“I am finished, Master,” I whispered to the pit master, as I had concluded my duties in the cell.
He rose to his feet.
The peasant looked up at the pit master. “Is it time,” he asked, “to do the planting?”
“No,” said the pit master. “No.”
We then left the cell.
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