For a moment, Sabit perched atop of the wall dividing the Pride’s inner courtyard from the larger outer enclosure used by the entire Sisterhood. At the far side of the crowded space, she saw Dessine making her way quickly toward Meriama’s private hut. The chief hunter held one hand on the bloody head wound she had blamed upon Sabit. In the past, the spear woman had hurled her spear such a distance, but never with a shoulder freshly-healed and so many innocents nearby to bear the consequences of her shaky aim.
Instead, Sabit dropped to the ground of the outer courtyard, breaking into a run. Dodging between members of the Sisterhood, children underfoot, and refugees from shattered villages slowed Sabit’s progress, but also provided cover from the archers among the pursuing Pride. Before their pursuit could find her, Sabit was at the door to Meriama’s hut.
Dessine had barred the door from the inside. Sabit heard shouts from within. With a single, powerful strike, Sabit plunged her spear through the wooden door, her shoulder protesting with burning pain. Pivoting the angle of her spear, Sabit dislodged the bar holding the door closed and rushed into the darkened room within.
Meriama lay on the floor, holding the handle of her axe in her good arm—the axe head laying uselessly upon the ground nearby. Dessine stood over the leader of the Sisterhood, swinging her bronze blade relentlessly downward, again and again. Chips of wood flew from the handle with each blow, quickly eroding Meriama’s only defense against violent death.
Consumed by rage, Dessine cried out in a voice that filled the hut and echoed into the courtyard beyond, “Your pride will kill us all!”
The next sword stroke hit the axe handle with such force that the wood shattered to splinters. Meriama’s final defense was gone.
Dessine raised her blade for the killing blow, a look of contempt on her face.
With a single thrust, Sabit plunged her spear into Dessine’s back. The iron head of the spear drank deeply of Dessine’s blood, until the sharp tip protruded from her chest. The chief hunter of the Pride dropped to the floor, lifeless.
Sabit let the weight of the body pull the spear from her grasp. She was defenseless when the hunters of the Pride came for her.
—–
Wayfarings of Sabit: Sisterhood of the Lioness is copyright (c) 2017 by Michael S. Miller. All rights reserved. New chapters post every weekday. You can support this and other stories on Patreon: https://patreon.com/michaelsmiller or http://ipressgames.com/fiction/