Out of the dreamless abyss of pain and silence, Sabit awoke. Her mighty arms were spread wide, shoulders burning like the embers of a fire where the weight of her body hung from them. A tingling numbness suffused her wide-spread hands past the cold, thick metal cuffs that gripped her wrists.
Sabit’s legs where heavy and clumsy as she tried to shuffle them beneath her, if only to ease the weight on her aching shoulders. Her sandal slipped on something wet, her fall halted by the wrist shackle and a sharp jolt to her shoulder. The scent of vomit filled the air as the spear woman forced herself to stand once more.
Sabit fought to pry her eyes open. The lids clung to one another with gluey stubbornness. When she finally opened them, only darkness greeted her gaze. Even so, having her eyes open—even sightless—helped to clear some of the fog in her mind.
Sabit’s mouth tasted of her own sick, her tongue plastered to the roof of her palate. She worked her jaw open slowly and let out a shout with her hoarse, dry throat. The sound echoed a few times, but died quickly in the darkness.
Trapped, alone, and in pain, Sabit was left with something far worse than the agony of her chained body: the memories of her defeat at the hands of a man whose life she had twice spared.
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Wayfarings of Sabit: Agony is copyright (c) 2018 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 Find more sword and sorcery fiction at http://ipressgames.com/fiction/.