Sabit strode toward the tall wooden rampart taking shape across the king’s road. She had just come from the armory—her armory—where the tireless labor of her warriors had filled her stores with arrows as numerous as the hairs on her head.
A scowl grew deep across Sabit’s face as she approached the wall of sharpened wood—scavenged from the bones of the village itself. “This rampart is in the wrong place! Where is Nerit? I told him to build it on the far side of the ridge, so it would block the king’s troops from seizing the high ground!”
The farmers and bandits working on the fortifications quailed at the fury in Sabit’s voice. From the gathered throng stepped a man, broad of shoulder and taller even than Sabit. “I have seen the king’s troops fight before,” Kehnan said, smiling as he approached Sabit. “The high ground is no matter. They travel with few archers, so it is of little value to them. However, building on the near side of the ridge preserves our most valuable weapon: Surprise.” Kehnan stood so close to Sabit that she could feel the heat of his breath on her face. “You can thank me personally during the victory celebration, just as you used to.”
Sabit’s jaw clenched in wordless outrage. She could feel the weight of dozens of eyes—her bandits and the villagers she had sworn to protect—settled upon her back.
With a sudden backhand, Sabit struck Kehnan across the face.
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Wayfarings of Sabit: Betrayal is copyright (c) 2017 by Michael S. Miller. All rights reserved. New chapters post every Thursday. You can support this and other stories on Patreon, https://patreon.com/michaelsmiller, or at http://ipressgames.com/fiction/.