Squeezed between amphorae of wine and buried under piles of straw, Sabit made her way back into the city of Bahteel. Crammed next to Rayshabu, the spear woman crouched in the center of a ring of wine amphorae, covered with burlap and straw. Her spear would be useless in such a tight space, but she held straight bronze daggers in each hand. Rayshabu clutched the silver parrot charm about her neck and sat unmoving as the wagon jostled over the cobblestones. The young woman’s mind wandered a distant realm, far removed from the wagon’s claustrophobic confines.*
As the movement halted, Sabit prepared herself for discovery and battle. She was still a wanted fugitive in Bahteel, but she had vowed to Rayshabu to return the girl to her father’s house. Sabit kept her vows.
Particularly the vow of vengeance she had sworn against her former lover, Kehnan.
Outside, raised voices filtered through the straw, approaching Sabit’s hiding place. “If you carry only straw, then it should be no matter that we thrust our spears through the heap’s heart a few times and send you on your way.”
“No,” came Verdandi’s voice, strong despite her age. “You must not. You could break something.”
“‘Break’ the straw, old woman? Do you think us fools?” came a man’s challenging words. “Just what are you hiding? Tell us now, lest we decide to plunge our spears through you instead!”
“You have found me out,” Verdandi sighed. Straw swished. Sabit tightened her grip on her daggers. Spears of light thrust into the darkness amidst the rows of clay jugs as the older woman threw back a corner of the burlap.
“Wine!” the guard croaked. “All the way from Elpasné from the looks of it. The king has a tax on wine.”
“Aye,” Verdandi said. “A very high tax. More than I’ll make off this whole wagonload.” She sighed deeply. “Of course, if I tell my buyer that one of the jugs broke during the long trip, he will be none the wiser. And the wine is sweet.”
The guard barked out a laugh. “It is a rough road, indeed. Surely two of them must have shattered along the way.”
From where she crouched, Sabit could see the two amphorae taken from the outermost row of jugs. Then, the burlap was replaced and the straw spread out once more. The transaction complete, the wagon rattled on, its two passengers unseen this whole time–bearing silent witness to the everyday function of the king’s law of Bahteel.
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*-The magic of the silver pendant is introduced in Wayfarings of Sabit: Chains.
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Wayfarings of Sabit: Allies is copyright (c) 2019 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/.