Page 54
Story: Earth Mover
I kept my eyes on the road ahead, squinting against the morning sun even as my head was covered with the deep hood. It was getting painfully bright already, and the day had hardly started. The left side of my head was already throbbing, with how sensitive that eye was. “Golath was a much smaller kingdom population-wise, so most of their people were wiped out by the Frigid War. Whatever was left scattered and made tribes, mostly out of survival. The Hollows—or what used to be Golath—is a harsh place to try to live in.”
I could feel Beolf’s stare burning a hole in the side of my face. As nonchalantly as I could, I adjusted my hood to keep more of ithidden from his prying stare. “Howdoyou know all this about a couple of dead countries?”
An unladylike snort escaped my lips. “Because Iread, Sir Rocks-For-Brains. I’d encourage you to try it, but I worry you’d hurt yourself. I don’t want that on my conscience.”
Someone from the small group accompanying Beolf and Dayer tried to smother their chuckle with an unbelievable cough, and Beolf turned to throw a baleful look at whoever it was. Otherwise, we rode the last hour in silence until the group stopped at the wooden gates of Covenant Crossing past midday. The banner carried by one of the soldiers was enough to grant us immediate entry, and without speaking, we maneuvered the narrow streets to the only inn and tavern in the small town. Beolf wasn't very forthcoming with his plan, but it seemed we were going to stay the night here and likely head back to Gilamorst tomorrow.
I wouldn't be joining them, if I had a say.
Soon, I will be home.
True to Resparian culture, it didn’t take long for me to be approached for nothing more than a body to stick a cock in. Even though I obviously traveled with Gilamorst soldiers, that wasn’t enough to indicate I was a woman of merit or a spellcaster.
However, this time, that ignorant belief was pivotal to my escape plan.
A beefy hand wrapped around me from behind, pulling me away from the bar and into the arm of a drunk patron. “Well,” he drawled. “Aren’t you a nice piece of ass? How much for the night?”
I gritted my teeth, both to keep my rage in check and so I could focus on not breathing through my nose. This man smelled absolutely rancid. Quickly my eyes darted to take an inventory of where my escorts were, particularly Beolf and Dayer. The rest of the squad was scattered throughout the packed tavern, and Dayer was a few seats away at the end of the bar, having an animated discussion with another scholarly-looking man. I assumed Beolf went out to take a piss or check the mounts, since he wasn’t anywhere in the room I could see.
Slowly, I turned my head until my chin touched my shoulder, trying to act as demure as possible as I regarded the man’s scruffy face. The lecherous grin with missing teeth would have been indication enough of what he wanted if he hadn’t said it outright. His hand fumbled higher up my body like he was going to grope my chest.
I caught the wandering hand and pinned it to my stomach, hoping it came off as interested instead of disgusted. Otherwise, I feared I would rip the man’s arm from his body. “I could be persuaded with the right offer. What did you have in mind?”
Just get him outside. I just need him outside,I mentally urged.
“Come with me, and I’ll see what I have in my saddlebags to trade.”
This guy must have thought I was a complete idiot. It was the oldest trick in the book to lure a woman outside the tavern, pin her in the back of the barn to fuck her, and then ride off before she could report the asshole. I was sure it wasn’t his first time doing the same, considering how confident he seemed to be about bringing me with him. I’d make sure he never laid hands on a woman again.
I forced a fake giggle and turned in his arm to drape my own around his shoulders. “Sure. Let’s see what you have.”
The innuendo may or may not have been lost on this idiot, but nonetheless, his smile widened, and he stepped back to pull me toward the door. Trying to appear eager, I looped my arm through his and practically dragged him from the building and around the corner toward the stables. Fortunately for me, there was no one outside or in the general vicinity of the tavern's yard, having gone inside to eat dinner or drink. If anyone were to come up on us, it would seem like nothing more than a romp in the hay.
“This way.” His voice went low and gravelly. I’m sure he thought it sounded attractive, but really, it was more like a bear choking than anything else. “You’ll have the time of your life, wench.”
“Of that I’m sure,” I purred.
We rounded the corner to the barn wall furthest from the tavern door. His arm jerked from my grip then slammed across my throat in a choking press against the stables’ rough exterior. A pained hiss left my lips as he tried to crush my neck with his burly forearm, my hands snapping up to grip it hard enough for blood to spring beneath my sharp nails. The man flinched back with a curse, and that was all I needed to slip my arm beneath his by the elbow. With a tight spin and duck beneath his arm, our roles were reversed, with me smashing his face against the wall and my full weight braced against his back. Between his inebriated state and the painful twist of his captive arm, he soon realized how fucked he was.
“You crazy bitch,” he spat. “Hel—”
I didn’t reallywantto break his neck. It was such a pain in the ass to heal that when I transferred bodies. But alas, the sound of it snapping beneath my hands and the subsequent choking sounds that came from his foul mouth were a smallconsolation for my rough treatment. His hulking body slumped to the ground limply, and I crouched by his head, watching the life bleed from his eyes with an elbow propped on my bent knee and a fist pressed under my jaw.
When the last breath rattled from his lungs, I rose up and moved around to grip his ankles in preparation to drag him onto Maura. She was less than amused watching me drag a lifeless body into her pen. She snorted her displeasure when I tacked her up with gear stolen off a nearby hook, and gave the command for to lower herself toward the ground to pull him up.
“Oh, come now, it’s like you’ve never seen a dead body,” I hissed at her. Maura’s ears flattened as if she were disagreeing. “Don’t be a pain now. I need your help!”
She stared back at me, but if a kisteral could look baleful, she would be the picture of it. I kept my pack tucked in the corner of her borrowed stall, covered with hay to prevent it from being stolen. I pulled it out from the hay and strapped it on the side of the saddle alongside the man’s lolling head. From the sack I pulled a thin blanket and unrolled it with a snap to lay over the man’s body and tuck beneath to look like he was nothing more than some extra supply bags that I’d covered up. I was sure Maura could sense my urgency, and for once actually cooperated when I threw my leg over the dead body and settled into the saddle before clicking my tongue to get her up.
"C'mon, girl, let's go home."
Chapter Twenty
Irin
It has been 20 years since the fall of Julra, and there is word from our census scouts that a new settlement is
growing to the south. Perhaps the Julra refugees found allies in the nomadic tribes and joined together to create a
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