In the center of it all, in a prison island created out of a ring of supply wagons, Richard lay chained with other captive men brought in to play in the Ja'La dh Jin tournaments. And a few of those out in the night were intent on murder. Others wandered the camp looking to steal. A number of the shadowy figures, after brief negotiations, disappeared into tents with the men. Others offered to shave soldiers, wash and care for their clothes, or tattoo their flesh. Occasionally men wandered by to size up Richard and his fellow captives.īetween gaps in the wagons Richard could see some of the camp followers, hoping to earn food or even a small coin, going from group to group offering to play a flute and sing for the men. Patrolling guards looking for any signs of serious trouble, soldiers looking for entertainment, and camp followers looking for a handout prowled the encampment throughout the night. Small crowds gathered from time to time to watch such contests and to bet on the outcome. All night long, it seemed, there were men testing their strength against one another, sometimes with muscle, sometimes with knives. While many of the soldiers were sleeping, others seemed always to be at work repairing gear, making weapons, cooking, eating, or engaged in drinking and raucous stories around fires as they passed the time waiting for their next opportunity at murder, rape, and plunder.
Like some great, churning beast it swallowed her up. Richard had known that the length of heavy chain attached to the collar around his neck wasn't long enough to allow him to get to her, but she hadn't known that and so the threat had been convincing enough to scare her off.Įven in the middle of the night the vast army encampment into which she had vanished was ceaselessly busy.
Having lost courage for the business of stabbing a man when he was awake and able to defend himself, she cast him one last hateful glare, then turned and escaped into the night. She gasped in fright as she flinched back. When she started to spit at him again, Richard lunged at her. There didn't appear to be anyone with the woman. Although there were soldiers not far away, just beyond the small enclosure of supply wagons, they were preoccupied with their own business. He checked to the sides for an accomplice. Richard glared at her, watching to make sure she didn't pull another knife and renew the attack. You are dogs-all of you! All of you from up here in the New World are heathen dogs!" "You'll never beat the team of the great and glorious Emperor Jagang. Once he'd disarmed her, he shoved her back.Īs soon as she stumbled to a halt, she spat at him. He could have broken her arm, and she deserved no less, but he didn't-this was not the time or place to create a disturbance. He didn't let up the pressure on her arm until he had possession of the blade. Still firmly holding her wrist, he wrenched the knife from her grasp. Surprise had provided her with an opening he would not foolishly grant her a second chance. Richard knew that to be gentle would only give her another opportunity to finish the job. As she grunted in pain, vapor from each panting breath rose into the cold night air. Her desire, her intent, her lust, however, were just as vicious as that of any of the invading horde she followed.
She was not the powerful killer he had at first feared. Gritting his teeth with awakened rage as he held the struggling woman's wrist in a viselike grip, Richard twisted her arm as he lifted her white-knuckled fist in order to withdraw the blade from his leg. That had probably been her plan in the first place. The army of the Imperial Order did not bother to care for slaves with crippling injuries they would simply have put him to death. While it made a painful puncture wound, had she sliced across his thigh muscle, as she'd apparently intended by the way she was holding the knife, it would have been far worse. The slender blade this woman wielded was smaller as well. The woman who had stabbed him earlier that night had been heavier, and stronger. In the dim light of distant campfires Richard saw that the square of cloth draped over her head and knotted under her angular jaw looked to be made out of a scrap of frayed burlap.ĭespite her frail frame, her sunken cheeks, her stooped back, she had the glare of a predator. A dingy dress, buttoned all the way up to her throat, covered her gaunt figure. Jolted fully awake by the shock of pain, he instantly seized her bony wrist, preventing her from ripping open his thigh.
For the second time that day, a woman stabbed Richard.
0 kommentar(er)
