Cathia 10 pgs Chapter 1 “How did you find out?” “Oh, a fishseller who buys from a man who travels from Osund.” “Ooooh, do you think it might be true?” “I don’t think so. They might not have found her body, but I hear the Mandur River is very deep near their palace grounds.” “But surely even those bandits would not have killed a princess!” “No one in their right mind believes they were bandits! The dukes planned it. Just because their isn’t proof, one of them planted those men to murder the king and his supporters. Now the princess is on the run, hiding from her own brother they say!” “She was only twelve! There is no way she could have made her way alone for this long without being caught. Besides, why on earth would she come here. It’s not like she can marry the prince after all that’s happened. The kingdoms would go to war!” The young woman paid for the bushel of vegetables and moved resolutely away from the farmer who was listening so avidly to the gossip given by the blacksmith’s wife. Both gave her an odd look, but said nothing about her unusual appearance. She weaved her way through the crowded market lane to a warm baker’s window upon which stood various goods from loaves of bread to sweet rolls. “Oh, good morning Cathia,” the baker grinned as the girl walked up to his window. “And how is Madam Marcy today?” “In a true pet,” Cathia smiled warmly in reply to the round baker. “Jon is supposed to fix the roof this afternoon, but you know how he is with heights, but because of all this rain we’ve had...” The baker laughed and nodded as Cathia let her sentence trail off with a pointed look of exasperation. He tucked a sweet roll into her basket with a wink and a nod, “Well, at least you’re there to help her with such things. You’ve been a real blessing to Marcy Cathia.” “Thank you Master Mark,” Cathia blushed, “I do what I can. She has been so kind to me after all.” “Don’t you go getting soft on me lass, I may think you’re a girl despite the way you dress” he grinned to soften his teasing and waved to her. Cathia made her way down the street, smiling at the hawking merchants and trying to ignore the gossip of the women meandering about in small gaggles. Several pointed at her as she passed, and more than one she heard outright laughter behind her. Cathia turned from the market street soon afterwards and passed several comfortable homes of one or two stories. At last she crossed a well-yard with a smithy, a garden-green and one large villa for the local sheriff. She entered a wide street which was dominated by small workshops and the merchants who were frequenting them. None of these men had the time to stop and stare at her, but several looked at her twice to take in her appearance. The only building to mar the workshops was surrounded by a large stone wall. This inn was marked by a sign of a red squirrel on a black background. The inn had three stories, the first story being made up of the common room, a private dining room, and the kitchen. The second story contained eight bedrooms, four on each side of the hallway. The inn had three stories, the first story being made up of the common room, a private dining room, and the kitchen. The second story contained eight bedrooms, four on each side of the hallway. The third floor had three bedrooms and a large living space for the innkeeper and her family. In the case of both Katy and Cathia they were not family, but they worked in the inn in return for their room, board, and whatever tips they might earn in the tavern. The third floor had three bedrooms and a large living space for the innkeeper and her family. In the case of both Katy and Cathia they were not family, but they worked in the inn in return for their room, board, and whatever tips they might earn in the tavern. Cathia walked through the open entryway and then around to the back of the inn. Her senses were assaulted with the smells of fine cooking and the noise of the chickens and geese Marcy kept in the yard. “Cathia, is that you?” A well-built woman stepped out of the kitchen and smiled happily, slightly graying-blonde hair peeking out from beneath a protective cloth. Her rounded girth took up the better part of the doorway, but the woman still moved with surprising speed as she reached out and lifted the cloth from the basket to look inside with a satisfied expression. Cathia handed her the basket after a moment and said, “Jallil had mushrooms for a good price so I picked up several of them too.” “Oh lovely, I’ll have to make stew tonight then,” Marcy grinned, her cheeks rosy and her eyes sparkling at the thought. “What rumors did you hear?” “Oh Marcy, you know I’m not a gossip like Katy,” Cathia grinned. “Aye, but you’re a smart girl and you keep your ears open,” Marcy said firmly. “Tell me what talk we’ll hear more of tonight.” “Oh more rumors about the Jerune Princess and talk of Prince Cade’s return to the capital. Apparently we are all supposed to get in the twitters for having both princes come home at the same time. I also heard the Mistress Dorsey spent the night with the Tailor down in the Dock quarters.” “The women still gossip about the princess?” Marcy shook her head. “Why can’t they let her poor soul rest in peace?” Cathia didn’t reply, letting Marcy ramble for a few minutes on the possible tragic fates that might have befallen the lost princess. Then she slowly removed her cloak and hung it on the peg inside the door, “Marcy? I’m going to go help Jon with the barn roof.” “Oh, thank you Cathia. I don’t know what I’m going to do with that boy,” she shook her head. “Were he not my only son I would apprentice him to Mark. The boy bakes better then he does anything around here, and that’s a fact midear.” “Well, I’ll help him as best I can,” Cathia said simply, not arguing either point. “Cathia?” Marcy stopped her suddenly, looking at the young woman from head to toe. “Did you go to the market dressed like that?” Cathia looked down at herself. She was wearing a man’s shirt and jerkin, the white blouse contrasting nicely with the green jerkin and her brown breeches. She looked back at Marcy and sighed, “It’s more comfortable and practical. A skirt slows me down.” “You look like a loose woman…” Marcy sighed. “No, I look like a weird woman, which is what I am,” Cathia grinned. “I spent too much time disguised as a boy I guess. I’m just used to the ease of pants. Besides, remember when Katy got in trouble at market and tripped on her skirt?” “Well, I know Jon needs the help. Those shingles look terrible,” Marcy said at last, letting the subject drop, but clearly trying to find a way to counter that argument. Cathia waved and headed across the inn’s yard. The mud was bad, it had rained for three days, but at least the heat of summer had broken temporarily. The young woman climbed easily up the ladder and walked with apparent comfort up to the peak of the barn roof. Jon straddled it, sweating profusely as he attempted to work on the shingles. Jon was a tall, muscular lad who was not very broad of shoulder, nor particularly handsome. He was a homely young man but with large hands and very tall and lanky. His sandy blonde hair was matted with sweat, although the heat of the day was not yet baring down on him, he continually glanced down the roof with a pale expression and his blue eyes quite wide. “Why not go get some water and bring up the other shingles?” Cathia offered sympathetically. He jumped slightly and clutched at the roof, staring at her with obvious dread. He nodded quickly and half-crawled down to the ladder and climbed down from the roof with ungainly speed. Cathia worked quickly and when Jon brought the new shingles she easily pulled off the ones damaged from the storms of summer and began examining the whole roof, walking along it from tip to tip as though perfectly comfortable three stories from the ground. She finally nodded and climbed down the ladder. Jon now sat at the bottom and jumped to her feet as she came down. “Thanks,” he said, blushing and running his hand through his hair and blushing a little. “Not a problem,” Cathia smiled a little. “I don’t mind the height like you do and the work isn’t too terribly hard. Besides, now it doesn’t have to be worried about until spring, right?” “Assuming we don’t loose patches over winter.” “Don’t tempt the devil,” Cathia replied. “He might take you up on the offer.” Jon shuddered and made a circle with an X over his chest as a ward. Cathia mimicked and then nodded, “Come’on, I bet Marcy needs your help in the kitchen and I need to help Katy clean upstairs.” They entered the inn and Cathia donned one of the dark blue aprons over her breeches and tied her dark brown hair behind a matching scarf. She then went upstairs to find Katy working and singing softly. Katy was a pretty slip of a girl with light brown hair and pretty brown eyes which were gentle and kind. Her figure was not heavy, but was generously curvy. “Hey, did you work the right side today?” Cathia asked. “Yeah,” Katy smiled a little, her blonde hair tucked behind a light blue scarf in the same was Cathia’s was. “I don’t like deal with old Tokay. He scares me.” “He’s just a bit gruff,” Cathia grinned and took her broom and dusting cloth down the hall to knock on a door, thinking of her current home. The largest bedroom for guests was no longer really a part of the inn but was boarded by an old magician who hated having to cook for himself, leaving Marcy with seven rooms which she could fill nightly. Tokay barked loudly to allow Cathia entrance and then snorted when he saw her, “So the little pixie didn’t want to risk her nose being turned into a cabbage?” Cathia laughed and shook her head, “I think Katy is more worried you might turn her nose into a tomato, it would be red and huge…” Tokay smiled and nodded a little, “Well come in, but don’t move anything.” “I have to move some of these books so I can dust,” Cathia said with a smile. “No you don’t,” he said. “I’ve done told Marcy, I don’t need a maid.” “Of course you don’t, but how would Marcy feel if she knew I wasn’t doing at least as much work as Katy?” “That don’t mean you need to move my books,” he harrumphed. “Yes it does,” Cathia replied. It was almost a game which she and Tokay had taken to playing. They would spend ten or fifteen minutes bickering lightly while she carefully lifted books and pillows as she cleaned the room. From his worn expression she knew he had been out most of the night, as he was many nights. The man kept odd hours, so when he was here during morning cleaning he could be quarrelsome. She ended by making the bed as he said, “Well if you must, then I suppose you might as well get it done with.” “Very well, as you wish Master Tokay,” Cathia smiled and dusted the table in front of the magician last. “When you finish your chores ask Marcy if I might borrow you for a few hours before the dinner work begins, I have some work I need done.” Which meant he needed errands run. Cathia nodded and said she would. She then left and cleaned the other three rooms she needed to do. She then went downstairs and found Mark and Marcy working in the kitchen. Katy was undoubtedly preparing for laundry the next day by sorting the sheets into their respective barrels and Cathia should be sent to prepare mugs chilling in the cellar. “Mistress Marcy?” Cathia interrupted the innkeeper and she turned. “Yes?” Marcy smiled. “The rooms are cleaned?” “Yes, and Master Tokay has asked if he may borrow me for the afternoon,” Cathia said, unable to keep the wistful tone out of her voice. The mugs in the cellar held no appeal, and the chance to get back outside was almost too much to wish for. “Very well,” Marcy smiled. “Master Tokay seems to have taken a liking to you Cathia, though the goddess only knows why. But I suppose you are just like him in some ways and he knows it. You certainly are both a mystery to me. But I suppose you aren’t so much a mystery as just odd, like so many others who have come recently to the city. A magician though… who can understand them?” “Perhaps he likes me because I clean?” Cathia said lightly with a smile. She had tensed slightly when Marcy spoke, but relaxed again by the end. Marcy only know she had one friend who worked with a seamstress in the Western Work courts and was otherwise a stranger to all within the city. Cathia had come in the spring, a weak girl with no apparent past worthy of great attention and in even greater need of work. Marcy had been wary at first, but now was delighted with Cathia, despite the girl’s odd choice in attire and friends. Cathia worked hard, and was a strong young woman, physically at least. Katy had told the innkeeper that Cathia suffered from nightmares that left her occasionally sobbing and occasionally crying out. Cathia had explained that her travels to the city had been difficult and given time, a good diet, and a safe home she was sure they would fade. Even so, after several months of safety, the nightmares had not ended nor even faded. As Cathia knocked on Tokay’s door she for an instant let her mask of a simple girl fall. She pressed her ear to the door to catch any noise which Tokay might be making which might help her. Sure enough she caught the first few words of an incantation. Suddenly the door began to open and she jumped back from it, her surprise showing openly on her face and almost completely masking her guilty expression. “Ah good, come in Cathia,” he said. “Come in and close the door.” Cathia did as she was bade and looked around more curiously than normal. Usually when Master Tokay asked for help he merely handed her a list of supplies and several silver coins. This was unusual and part of her was very wary of Tokay’s intelligence and perceptive eyes as well as whatever magical abilities he might have. “Now don’t look scared girl,” he said. “I’m not going to turn you into a goat or something.” Cathia tried to laugh at his joke but barely managed a smile. He looked at her sharply and said, “I want to make you an offer, and before I do I have to explain some things.” Tokay gestured to his spare chair and several books floated from the chair to stack beneath the window. Cathia sat lightly and looked at the magician quizzically. He nodded and said, “I know you’re Jerunian.” Cathia inhaled sharply, taken completely aback from his statement. He lifted a hand and said, “Furthermore I have surmised you lost your family in the civil war these past seven years and wish only to put that behind you. In saying such I wish to offer you a more profitable position then as Marcy’s go-girl. Jon will undoubtedly marry the sweet, gentle, and beautiful Katy. They have already taken to spending too much time in the barn as it is. Marcy will love you as another daughter, but should Katy bear Jon children you will be dismissed from here with no penny to your name.” When Cathia didn’t seem shocked he raised one eyebrow and continued, “I am a trespasser upon Marcy’s kindness because she allows me to work in peace. However, I do have a house here in the city. Currently it is barely more then decrepit as I have never managed to find a woman to run it for me.” Tokay observed that Cathia again did not seem surprised, which meant she had realized he had more money to his name then the average magician. He nodded slightly to himself, she was a smart girl and quick to take in whatever information he might need to teach her. She tilted her head and asked, “You wish to offer me the place of working as your housekeeper?” “You would be more like a steward,” Tokay said quickly. “I will place you in charge of hiring any staff you feel appropriate and will allow you a significant budget in order to both decorate, furnish, and tend to my house. In time we might consolidate this into a more… contractual relationship.” Cathia lifted one eyebrow in surprise and Tokay realized her back had straightened as he spoke, her shoulders lifting as though she had removed an invisible cloak and had become more then an orphan girl. Before him suddenly sat a young woman as fine as any young lady he had ever seen, and he was caught by the change in her manners. Her facial expression also had the gentle mask of a noble-trained girl and her expression showed that she understood exactly what he was offering. He had noticed she was not a normal girl, her dark brown hair was not the mousy brown or shady blonde hair of those in this kingdom. Her green eyes were also much brighter then the mostly brown or gray he was accustomed to. He had guessed she must be a border child, but her expression and attitude in this moment led him to wonder. “Master Tokay…” Cathia spoke softly, slowly considering her reply. “I am… honored at your offer, but I am nowhere near capable enough to accept such a position. I can barely manage to remember my tasks with Mistress Marcy reminding me daily, I could not possibly manage an entire household.” Tokay nodded and said, “And my other offer?” Cathia looked at him and suddenly looked very sad, “I am not available to become any man’s wife.” “Are you already married?” he was honestly surprised. “No sir,” she said and looked down. “I can’t lie to you, but my life is pledged to the church. Until such time I am released from that oath I am bound to accept no man as my husband, and I am free only so long as it does not disrupt my duties to the goddess.” Tokay pondered this. There had been a tiny rumor that the church had begun accepting oaths of vassalage now, but to accept from an orphan seemed extravagant and wild. It was strange that she was a vassal of the church and still living on merely her own. However, he could see that she was quite serious and slowly nodded. “Does Marcy know?” he asked gently. Cathia shook her head slightly. “No sir, only you know. I would appreciate it if you did not broadcast it. I am considered odd enough as it is.” Tokay laughed dryly and nodded, “Aye my dear. Without a single spell to your name you have managed to make yourself as interesting a personage as any magician in the city. Many a young man comes to The Flying Squirrel to eat Marcy’s cooking and to see for themselves her strange maid.” Cathia blushed and reached up to push her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture he had only seen her use a few times. He blinked and realized that at some point in their conversation she had again transformed from the blossoming lady of strength to the simple girl who was fighting to make her way in the world. He was struck by the difference and wondered what she must have been before the civil war in Jerune was torn apart by a coup which nearly demolished the nobility and killed most of the royal family. “At least I don’t wear my breeches when I’m serving food then, right?” Cathia laughed a little, with a nervous twist of a smile on her face. “And a good thing it is too,” he said. “Well, you can’t say I don’t give a damn girl. I just made you an honest offer to up your standing in the world.” “I do appreciate it Master Tokay,” she smiled wanly at him. “But for now in my life… I don’t think I can handle anything like that.” “Alright, well, I still need some things from market today.” With a slight shuffling of paper he handed her a list and Cathia headed out, glad that she would miss some of the afternoon chores she normally had to do, like scrubbing the tables in the common room. She grabbed her cloak and the shopping basket and headed for the market. As she walked she considered the city, planning her route carefully. The city was broken into seven boroughs, each with its own distinctive layout. The central area of the city was the temple district, which was one of the richest and most beautiful areas, including a large park surrounded by gardens and then ringed loosely by various church related buildings. To its east stood the two districts made of the nobles city homes and then the palace, which stood on the side of the city next to the large fields which kept the knight’s horses and offered a place for knights to train. To the north sprawled a large district known as the Cantell District. Surrounded by its own wall, and being home to all those who were not native to this country, including most of the permanent ambassadorial homes. To the west was an assortment of various merchants houses, warehouses, and then finally the docks. Almost the entire half of the southern part of the city was known collectively as the Common District, and had about a dozen neighborhoods of various styles and qualities. Those not of the noble birth, workmen, and some merchants lived here. Lastly, in the southwestern area of the city, very near the docks was the Fens, where the poorest, meanest livings were eked out. Cathia planned her route to the various magic shops Tokay had written on the note to avoid passing either the Eastern Districts or the Fens, but made her way so that she passed the Western Work courts. The Western Work court, a huge courtyard with several taverns and brothels managed to stay just removed from the Fens due to a few reputable establishments, but still remained less safe that Cathia’s current home. Just behind the whorehouse called the “Madam Resule’s Parlor” sat a good-sized tailor’s shop. Cathia entered and saw a beautiful blonde girl sitting on a worktable with a beautiful red and gold dress splayed across her lap. Her needled flashed with precision and grace. “My lady?” Cathia said teasingly and the beautiful young woman looked up with shock in her blue-green eyes. “Oh Cat!” the girl grinned and Cathia came and hopped up beside her friend. “How are you Harmony? Still scared?” “Always,” the blonde replied softly. “I’m not strong like you Cathia… I don’t think I’ll ever feel safe again.” “Sure you will,” Cathia hugged her gently. “I’ll protect you Harmony.” “I know you try…” Harmony spoke softly, “but we both know you’re too busy to be here most of the time…” “Come next midwinter it’ll be over,” Cathia said softly, reaching up and running two fingers through Harmony’s hair in a comforting gesture. “Then I’ll take you someplace safe. I promise we’ll go somewhere safe.” Harmony nodded mutely and looked at Cathia with haunted eyes, “How have you managed to forget?” “I haven’t,” Cathia said. “But if you let the fear rule you we’ll never be able to be free.” “Oh Cathia…” Harmony looked almost tearful and blushed as though in shame. “I haven’t been through half of what you went through and yet I still am the one too scared to help…” “Hush,” Cathia spoke softly to her friend. “Tell me who this gown is for? Please tell me it isn’t that terrible red-head.” “Oh no, this is for a noble lady,” Harmony smiled. “Mistress Cordy had two ladies’ maids come for work done from this shop because our work is so fine. This is for the Lord of Mertil’s wife, whoever that is.” Cathia giggled and said, “She sounds like a medicine.” Harmony giggled too and smoothed the dress carefully to show off the work she was doing, the delicate embroidered flowers winking in a variety of different colors. She then shook her head a little, “I can hardly believe any lady still tries to wear the Pemb-leaf, but it was specifically requested for these flowers. It seems so old-fashioned.” “Well, it’s beautiful nonetheless,” Cathia smiled. “Be careful or you’ll have every noble woman in the country wearing Pemb-leaves and looking like their grandmothers!” Harmony laughed heartily and smiled happily. She then nodded and said, “I think I could be happy doing this Cathia. Truly content to sit and work all day on something so simple…” “Rather then worrying about what must be done before nightfall else the world falls apart?” Cathia grinned and pinched Harmony playfully in the arm, switching into a nasally voice “When will you girls stop playing and pay attention. Someday knowing how to use a shrimp fork may mean the difference between marriage and misery.” Harmony laughed as well and nodded, “Exactly. This life is simple things, I’m even learning to cook.” “Oh?” Cathia looked surprised and pleased. “How’s that going?” “I think there’s still some leftovers from breakfast, come and see.” Harmony slid off the table with grace, landing lightly on her feet and padding towards the kitchen. Cathia followed, her own movements sure and full of a liquid ease. Cathia was able to note the difference in their movements, and smiled. Harmony seemed to float with an effortless grace while Cathia’s movements were more concentrated, as though bundling all her energies the way a cat does before a great and mighty leap. In the kitchen was a small oven to one side next to the fireplace. On the table sat a simple wooden platter with several turnovers on it. Cathia scooped one up and bit into it quickly. She then grinned and said, “You made this Harmony?” “Yeah,” Harmony smiled and blushed. “Mistress Cordy really is an excellent teacher. I have started making dinner for the family…” “Oh really?” Cathia smiled. “Wow, talk about the mundane, I’m really impressed.” Harmony nodded and said, “So when we go to the convent I won’t be a complete burden.” “I don’t think you would have to come…” Cathia said. “You can be free if you so wish. You can stay here and live a real life…” “No I can’t,” Harmony said softly. “Like you Cathia, I too am merely surviving. We don’t belong here, do we.” “Then go ahead without me,” Cathia spoke softly. “You don’t need to stay you know. “I dare not,” Harmony said. “I have been alone far too long…” Cathia hugged her friend close and said, “And I will never leave you alone so long as it is within my power to do so. My life is ever thine highness.” Harmony held Cathia tightly and whispered in her ear, “Thy oath is thus accepted and I shall never forsake thy honor in my words nor my deeds.” In silence they did not move for a moment, drawing strength and comfort from one another in the ritual words. Cathia then smiled and said, “Well, tell Mistress Cordy I said hello. I had best get to the market or I just might get into trouble.” “Please visit for dinner sometime,” Harmony said. “I almost always tend to make too much, though of course the boys don’t mind eating it up.” “I’ll ask Mistress Marcy if I can have a night off sometime,” Cathia smiled and popped the last bite of the turnover into her mouth, grabbing another as she left the shop. Cathia smiled at the sunlight and walked with purpose to the Bead Marketplace. Cathia shopped for Master Tokay’s odd items with relative ease. The Bead Market neighborhood was near the Southern gate, so received many odds and ends made by farmers who then sold them in the city. The hardest item Cathia sought was a wooden ink pot. Why he might need wooden Cathia had no idea, but when he was specific it was for a purpose and nothing else would do. Cathia almost had to run home to give her findings to Master Tokay, still lacking the wooden ink pot. She then hurried to change, feeling almost a sense of relief that Katy was already busy downstairs as she changed. Katy was aware that Cathia all-but refused to change her clothes in her presence, and though she did not know why, respected Cathia’s shyness with only a little teasing. In the lamplight Cathia had a few moments to look at herself in the full-length mirror which was one of the prizes of the inn. Since its purpose was to be able to have a guest who wished to see themselves it was not used often, only for the most unique and noteworthy guests. The inn actually had two, and when no guest needed them Marcy kept one in her room and allowed her maids to keep the other in theirs. Katy used it nearly everyday, giggling and practicing facial expressions. Cathia usually avoided it, especially when she was changing clothes. Now, however Cathia happened to glance at her reflection as she removed her boyish clothes. She frowned at what she saw. Her dark brown hair nearly seemed black except for the tint of almost red to it. Her pale green eyes looked carefully at her own arched nose, oval face, pert lips, and long neck with a calculating evaluation. However, it was actually the rest of her form which made her frown. Crisscrossed over her skin were scars, most clearly from a whip, but some of a deeper and more sinister nature, from weapons. The worst was a huge wound that had once been a long gash reaching from just beneath her armpit along her back and stretching down and across her back to almost her hip. Cathia shivered and couldn’t help but remember the making of that scar. She had eluded her pursuers for two days in the forests, but hunger drove her back to the city. She was no child of the land to know that half the plants she passed were edible or pointed towards edible roots. She knew only of bread and cheese, meats and vegetables from the cooked meals of her childhood. So it was only within a city’s walls that the scamp who was nearing womanhood might find food. The pie seller looked at her with pity as she struggled to find enough pennies to pay for the meat pie. She came up six short. She was about to turn away when the man said, “Here lass, a good meal ‘tis the least I can do.” With a sniffle that was not theatrical she accepted the pie and ate it with quick, hungry relish. However, she knew that the pie was only temporary and she had no more money. She had few options, and none of them she liked very much. She must either beg, which her pride would not allow; starve, which her stomach protested to; or steal food. Only that last choice gave her a ray of hope. However, she had been raised to never take bread from a starving man, or even discharge such evil upon a modest family. Which left her with the rich merchants, the lords, and such as those kind who could afford to feed a starving child and choose not to. In her mind this struck her with a great sense of justice, and she set off to find such a person. Hunger twisted her stomach into knots and encouraged her. Found one she did, a lady wearing a yellow flower embroidered on her shoulder, a symbol meaning her family supposedly supported the young king. The girl appeared lazy, ordering her maid to do the most menial of tasks. Even as the girl-child watched she saw that the lady clearly had little wish to bother with anything but her shopping habits in the market place. Her purse was easy to see, but harder to get a hold of. The girl yanked hard at it as the woman screamed. She found herself racing off down the market street with the purse in her hand and pursued by first two guards and then three more. She dodged through people and finally ducked nimbly between two carts, the creak of the wood and the cry of the horses filling her ears for a moment. However, when she glanced behind she saw the trick had allowed her to lose all but one of the guards chasing her. This young man doggedly followed her through the streets, which were growing more and more narrow. She had no idea where she was now, her only thought was that in this man chasing her would probably hurt her, and would certainly take away the little pouch which contained several silver coins and probably a gold coin or two. It was enough to feed the girl for weeks, though she would have to be very careful not to be robbed herself. Her lungs burned from running and she tried to loose him through a narrow alley. “Gotcha!” the guard reached out and grabbed her shirt with one hand. She squirmed and the material, worn and thin already, started to rip. He cried out angrily and drew his other hand up, his sword slicing along her back from her left hip up across her back to her right shoulder, destroying the remains of the shirt. She screamed in pain as the steel cut flesh and the fire of pain lit her mind. The guard slashed again, but the girl had crumpled under the assault and in his hand remained the tatters of her shirt. In a fury the guard made to reach down for the girl again. There was a flash of steel and the guard crumpled with his throat spurting blood. The razor-thin man looked at the girl who had crumpled under attack. A thin girl she seemed more bone then actual flesh, though her back was more blood then either of those. Aside from the giant gash that he considered might be fatal she sported a variety of whip wounds which were scarcely beginning to heal. She suddenly tried to rise to her feet. She stumbled two steps and fell to her knees again, her head bowed but clearly undefeated. “What’d you find there Patch?” The girl then had known no more. | 
nervous 
sleepy 
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stressed 
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