[Shadowed Path 01] - A Woman Worth Ten Coppers by Morgan Howell Read Free Book Online Page A

halted and sat upon a rock next to where clear water gurgled among rounded stones. Yim took his action as a sign that she could rest. She removed the pack, drank her fill from the cold stream, and refilled the water skin. Before she could sit down, Honus broke his silence. “Wash your filthy rag and clean yourself also.”
    Yim blushed. “Right here?”
    “Yes, here. Now be quick about it.” As Yim began to hop from stone to stone, Honus added, “Stay close by.”
    The water deepened to form a shallow pool about ten paces from where Honus sat. Yim halted there and glanced to see if her master was looking away. He was not. Feeling as she had upon the slave seller’s block, Yim turned her back to Honus, removed her tunic, and washed it as best she could. Afterward, she wrung it out and placed it on a rock. Having finished with the tunic, she squatted down to clean herself in the calf-deep water. It was icy and she bathed as quickly as possible, scrubbing her goose-pimpled skin with sand until it was rosy pink. All the while, she felt Honus’s eyes on her nakedness. It filled her with dread as she thought of the approaching night. Yim rose from the water and dressed in her tunic before facing Honus. He was gazing at her breasts, which were clearly visible through the wet, clinging fabric.
    As Yim returned to the bank, Honus rose to resume their journey. Without a word, Yim hiked the pack upon her wet garment and waited for her master to move on. Honus crossed the stream by leaping from stone to stone, then continued up the lonely road.
     
    Dusk was falling when Honus drew his sword and handed it to Yim. “Carry this and keep walking. There’s something I must do.”
    Yim obeyed. She listened for Honus’s footsteps behind her, but there were none. When she turned around, he was gone without a trace, leaving her alone. His action was as terrifying as it was inexplicable. Yim briefly wondered if she was being punished, but she couldn’t imagine her transgression. She clutched the sword, but it provided little comfort on the darkening and desolate road. Thick brush hemmed in the narrow lane, so it resembled a twisting alleyway. The Seer lost his life and I my freedom in just such a place.
    The only thing Yim could do was to keep moving. Her bare feet made no noise, and after a while, she could detect rustling sounds to her rear. “Master?” The sounds stopped. Yim looked behind her. The road was empty. As Yim stood listening, the sun sank below the trees.
    Yim started walking again. The sound returned and became louder. This time, she turned to see two dark shapes step onto the lane. In the stillness of the gathering gloom, she could hear men’s low voices.
    “Are you crazy? The Sarf!”
    “He’s gone. And the fool left his sword behind.”
    “He might return.”
    “Then we’ll be quick.”
    Yim grasped Honus’s sword with both hands and waved it at the two silhouettes. They advanced with the confidence of dangerous men. Soon Yim could see them plainly. They wore heavy leather tunics, sewn with iron plates. Their coarse, scarred faces matched their crude armor. One man held an unsheathed sword; the other brandished an iron-headed mace.
    “Throw that thing away, pretty,” said the man with the sword. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
    “I’ll hurt you ,” said Yim, trying to sound confident, “if you come closer.”
    The man with the mace snickered and began swinging his weapon with swift, random movements. The studded iron became a blur that whistled through the air. Yim swung wildly with her blade, trying to fend it off. The mace wielder grinned and Yim sensed he was toying with her. Several times, the iron passed so closely to her face, she felt its breeze. With a sudden clank, the sword was jarred from her grasp. Yim’s assailant stepped forward and pinned the blade to the dirt. “Enough of that,” he said. “Now it’s time to really play.” He grinned and, with the end of his mace, began to lift the