“I will take your eight silver qirsh for that trouble-making wretch you wanted.” grumbled the slave-merchant Heguir. He walked a pace before Sabit, each step careful. He held his hands folded in front of him, the long, ornate sleeves of his robe concealing the tight ropes binding his wrists.
“That was the old woman’s offer, but you refused to deal with her,” replied Sabit. “I offer you your worthless life for the return of my friend. I make no guarantee of all your blood if you make trouble for me.”
“You think highly of your skills if you dare to lead me into my own house and threaten my life. Your spirit is bold indeed.” A smile oozed across Heguir’s face as he spoke. “If it were my fetters around your wrists, I would delight in strangling that boldness within you until you begged to service my basest pleasures.”
Sabit lowered the iron point of her spear to prod through the merchant’s robes, just where his buttock met his thigh. “Pray I am not bold enough to banish your base pleasures to the realm of memory, flesh-peddler. When we reach your home, order my friend brought forth. All three of us will leave until I am assured that there is no pursuit. Only then will you count yourself lucky to be rid of both of us.”
Heguir turned to level a glare of icy hatred at Sabit. Jaw clenched in suppressed rage, he turned and resumed his plodding steps.
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Wayfarings of Sabit: Chains is copyright (c) 2018 by Michael S. Miller. All rights reserved. New chapters post every Thursday (and the occasional Monday). You can support this and other stories on Patreon: https://patreon.com/michaelsmiller Find more sword and sorcery fiction at http://ipressgames.com/fiction/.