Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Prompt: A thief by any other name…

Pedrika dropped to the ground without a sound under her soft leather boots. She spun, still crouching low, swinging her long, curved kedvatch around her. The shining blue runes dripped off the wicked blade and sparked through the air as they sank into the ground. Shielded, Pedrika stood and wiped the kedvatch against the thigh cuff of her dark brown boots.

She tucked the blade inside her left boot and checked her sheaths of slender throwing kedvims. Two empty of the six along each forearm. The bandolier strapped across her chest held all twelve in front and another set along the back. She tugged her tunic under the bandolier, and for a moment she strained against the tight bands that wrapped around her chest, trying in vain to loosen them, to take a full breath. Her hair had come loose from its braid, and she muttered a binding spell. She would pay for that later, but she didn’t have time to re-braid it, and Quaid would give her worse than a blinding headache if anyone discovered she were a girl.

She grimaced. She never understood how differently she must appear to the world with her hair bound in a boy’s braid and the rune marks glowing around her eye. It was still her. Still the same girl who had run through the castle gardens so long ago. Still the same girl captured by the slave raiders and –

Pedrika gave her head a sharp shake. No sense thinking about the past. Good or bad. She patted the pouch tucked inside her tunic and looked around once more for any sign of danger. Seeing none, she stepped out of her shielded corner and walked at a brisk, no-nonsense pace towards Quaid’s house above the riverwalk. With her success tonight, she would finally pay Quaid her freedom price. Not that he would let her leave, of course. But at least she would be a free woman. She snorted softly. A free thief.


Raghu crept along the rooftops, following the thief. He still felt the power of the runes, and the shock of seeing such a beautiful woman appear without warning at the wall. He still felt his connection to the contents of her pouch—a ribbon wound around his heart and tugging as she pulled farther away from him. He could not let them stray too far, or the ribbon would tighten and squeeze the life out of his heart before it broke forever.

The trap was set and sprung. He only hoped she did not lead him into another trap he could not yet see…

Dogs in house
Houdini, Brindle
Spanish Guitar Music Vol.1
Time writing:
30 minutes
July word count:


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