Several days walking brought the pair to the ridge overlooking Elpasné. In the distance, the great city filled the bottom of the valley. Its narrow, orderly streets formed such beguiling patterns that many claimed the city had been sculpted by the gods. Each roof bloomed with lush greenery of every shade. Surrounding it all, sturdy … Read more
I hope you’re all enjoying this month’s Wayfarings of Sabit story, “Blossom of Ruin.” Chapter Fifteen goes up tomorrow! November’s Tale of Oshala the Hex, “Battle of Oak and Acorn,” is now available. I know that stories are supposed to be like children and I’m supposed to love them all equally. But this one is … Read more
Leaving the camp in the cool of the night, Sabit and Allamu made their way back to the main road, picking their way between rocks, navigating by the stars and dead reckoning. When their sandals clopped onto the hard-packed road, Sabit turned to the east. “We cannot go to Elpasné,” Allamu said. “Mine was the … Read more
Sabit doubted that many tears had ever watered the foul sativa, but she hoped hers were bitter enough to wither it to dust. Allamu waited on the clearing’s edge in silence. The shadows had grown long. The western sky was painted with blood. “This was Ishum,” Sabit said. “He was prince of Ghabar. Barely a … Read more
Sabit stood tall over the fallen sativa-keeper. His bloody face glowered hatefully at her. With a gurgle, he attempted to command his thralls against her. None could hear. Sabit made quick work of him. “What a terrible and great vegetable this is,” Allamu said, studying the sativa’s tempting blooms from a cautious distance. “All that … Read more
Surrounded, bound, and outnumbered, Sabit took the only course that she could see. She went limp in her bonds. The thralls to her sides struggled with the spear-ends, trying to keep her in place for the swordsman’s blow. The sativa-keeper ducked low to keep hold of her hair. The swordsman raised his blade. With an … Read more
Sabit thrashed against her bonds with every jot of vigor she could summon. She bowled over the thralls to either side of her. But her legs had been hobbled with thick rope. Sabit didn’t make a dozen steps before she was dragged back. The sativa-keeper laughed with triumph. “Indeed, you will be a fine addition … Read more
Sabit strained against her captivity, but the ropes were too thick to snap, the knots too tight to squirm free. That coward-prince Allamu was nowhere to be seen. Her gaudy captor had instructed his thralls to yoke Sabit to her own spear, the sharp iron point also bound up in thick leather. Even if she … Read more
“You are Sabit,” the gaudy man muttered. “You are the strong spearwoman. You come from the south.” Sabit lowered her spear point, level to the man’s chest. “You’ve no right to that name. I never it gave it to you. You do not know me.” The man giggled—a blood-curdling sound of wickedness. “You never gave … Read more
Allamu led Sabit on a circuitous route through the camp, keeping them both out of sight of the few wakeful sentries. The boulders near the center were massive, flanking a shaded clearing. A half-dozen men and women dozed in the clearing, their lips and noses marked by the same strange rash of an angry green … Read more