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Continuing from Disturbed Magic (until or unless a better title comes along) but skipping ahead a bit from last week’s post.
This is a rough draft that’s not currently being worked on, so all the usual warnings apply, and then some.
Denied the hoped-for job with merchant caravan (“You’re too young and too small,” the man had said. “Come back when you’ve grown a bit.”) Kel is returning to the barracks of the Free Swords…
“Stop it! Please!” The words choked off in a scream and Kel turned toward the sound. No one else seemed to be paying any attention to the disturbance; it was apparently normal and accepted – or at least expected – behavior from Caravaners, but Kel was oath-bound to respond.
The scream came again, this time accompanied by sobs and Kel followed the sound behind a cluster of tents and booths and into an alley.
Half a dozen men were gathered around a small woman, laughing as they made grabs for her and she slashed at them with a dagger in a desperate attempt to keep them at bay. No one had lost any blood yet, nor were they likely to, Kel thought; the woman was no fighter – her stance was all wrong and the only thing right about her grip on the dagger was that her hand was on the hilt and not the blade. Still, she was fighting rather than giving up and Kel couldn’t help but admire her spirit.