Page 80
Story: The Curse of the Goddess
Valda leaned back on her chair, her hand up, waiting for Lasmeer to place the cold drink in her hand. “What happened to me is no reason to be locked up. I was confined to my chambers for way too long the first weeks.”
“I am not talking about that,” Lasmeer said. “I am talking about the rebellion.”
Valda was about to take another gulp when she heard Lasmeer’s word. She stopped dead in her tracks as she registered what he was saying. “Rebellion?”
“I thought General Arwin told you?”
“What rebellion?”
“I mean, I shouldn’t be the one telling you.”
“You start, you finish.”
“There has been a lot of movement down south. Last I heard from a group of soldiers that came by the other day, there has been an exponential increase of rogues. I am talking about hundreds of soldiers renouncing their pledge and joining up with this group of bandits. There is a rumor that they might be planning to overthrow you any time soon.”
“The General did mention some movements. I didn’t know they were that big.”
“Nobody thought that either. They do have a leader, though no one knows who they are or they rather not say.”
“A leader, huh?”
“Yes. I am letting you know what I’ve heard. I am sorry you weren’t aware, and I don’t have much to say.”
“No, that is quite fine.” Valda took a deep breath as she analyzed the information. Suddenly she lost her appetite, and anger brewed inside her stomach. How come she was getting more information from the cook at a slovenly canteen than from her own General. Her upper lip twitched before she turned to where Maris had been sitting. She touched the empty seat and wondered what was taking so long… “The washroom is not so far from here, is it?”
“Not really. It’s right out back.”
Letting out a deep rumble from within her chest, Valda stood up, grabbed the white cane, and left heading to the washroom. It didn’t take her long she had been to Lasmeer’s countless times. She navigated effortlessly to the back where a sizable shack made from wood and rocks was.
Valda’s cane touched the entryway’s partially opened door.
“Maris?” Valda walked into the washroom. All she heard in the silence was the murmuring of the people outside walking through the plaza.
Closing the door behind her, the muffling chatter was silenced enough for Valda to feel out the place. She got an image of the washroom by moving the cane from side to side across the floor. Her hand met a basin made from rugged rocks and filled with water. Gripping the white cane tightly, she called out once again. Her cane bumped against the wall of a stall. Inside the stall there was a slight formation of a rock for people to use.
Amidst the smell of shit she could make out Maris’s faint scent. Either she was still here, or she had been here. Suddenly, Valda heard shuffling clothing, angered whispers, and a warning.
Don’t move. Be quiet.
Valda opened the stall, stepped in, and inhaled.
Maris was not there.
“Maris?” Valda swiftly moved to the second stall. The scent was getting stronger. She pushed the cane inside.
Maris was not there.
Playing dumb, Valda moved to the third and final stall, pushing the door open. Someone was struggling to breathe.
Valda took a deep breath, the tension building inside her. Gathering her composure, she then slowly exhaled, releasing the air in a controlled manner. She could sense a burning gaze fixated on her back, and the faint sound of shuffling in front of her.
Valda took a step back, her grip on the cane tightening until her knuckles turned white. Without a word, she swung the cane with all her might, connecting it with a resounding crack against someone’s face. She heard Maris let out a relieved sigh as whoever was holding her released their grip. Dropping the cane, Valda reached out and grabbed the person, swiftly turning and slamming their face against the rock sink. The sickening sound of breaking bone and rock filled the room, and Valda growled as the scent of blood mixed with the putrid odors.
Before Valda could react, a second assailant struck her with a vicious elbow to the brow, causing her to lose her footing and slam her face against the hard floor. She fought through the sudden surge of pain, her senses heightened as she heard Maris’s faint gasps. Footsteps approached, and then she heard hacking and coughing coming from the attacker. They struggled for breath as they stood back up, their horrible sounds giving away their position. Valda reached out, her hand finding their face, and with a swift jerk of her hands, she twisted, breaking their neck. The attacker’s body fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
Maris let out a petrified yell.
Valda’s brow furrowed as she reached up to touch the warmth of her own blood trickling down her face, cursing as the headache settled in. “Maris?” she asked urgently, her voice laced with concern. She felt a surge of energy coursing through her, fueled by the fear that something might have happened to Maris.
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