Judge by R.J. Larson

clung to Kien, caressing him, and—between nervous glances at the forbidding clouds—taking liberties he’d allow no one. “Who are you, stranger? Never mind. You’re not in a hurry, are you?”
    Kien stepped away, frowning. Why would anyone touch him, rotted as he appeared?
    She flung herself at him again. “Wait! My, but you’re in a bad mood. Well, I can make you forget everything for a quarter-ninus.”
    Twelve violations. Thirteen if she’d stolen his coins. Fourteen if she continued to maul him against his will. Gritting his teeth, Kien unwound her arms from his waist.
    She grabbed him again, painfully, revealing her desperation. “Please, sir!”
    This was like trying to free himself from a many-tentacled creature—its arms continuously entwining him. Frustrated, Kien stared down into the young prostitute’s eyes. He froze, shocked. She was so young ! Obviously this girl’s situation wasn’t her fault. He removed her hands from his waist and held her wrists to keep the girl’s attention—and some distance.
    Remembering his divinely dictated guidelines—the twelve official words he’d be allowed while in this city—Kien spoke gently, hoping she recognized his concern. The Infinite’s concern. “In twenty-one days, the Infinite will destroy Adar-iyr. Repent and be saved.”
    “What?” She stared at Kien as if he were insane.
    “In twenty-one days—”
    “You’re teasing me.” The girl pouted, her voice pathetic, her lower lip out as she looked up at him through her lashes. “Don’t be mean.”
    Were those specks crawling through her hair lice ? Kien held the girl off, repeating earnestly, “In twenty-one days, the Infinite will destroy Adar-iyr. Repent and be saved.”
    “Huh! Madman! Let go!” She ducked and tugged her hands from his. “Freak!”
    A man leaned from the nearest doorway and snarled at Kien, “If you’re not conducting business, move on!”
    The man’s hair was the same sun-streaked brown as the girl’s. Was he the girl’s panderer, selling his own daughter or his littlesister to a peeling, blighted stranger? No doubt he was. Infinite? Did Adar-iyr have any laws at all? This poor girl had been defiled through her relative’s greed! Kien eyed the man and struggled not to judge and condemn him with evidence unheard. “In twenty-one days, the Infinite will destroy Adar-iyr! Repent and be saved.”
    As the man stared, then cast a wary glance at the threateningly low sky, Kien turned his scruffy-booted heels in an about-face and marched down the cloud-darkened street. He checked his coin purse, still secured to his waist, silver drams intact. Amazing. He untied it, cinched his belt tight, then dropped his coin purse inside his tunic, where it would be safe. Unless someone gutted him, which was bound to happen.
    Raising his voice, Kien yelled, “In twenty-one days, the Infinite will destroy Adar-iyr! Repent and be saved!”
    Unless their Creator forgave all these miscreants. Infinite? Would You?
    If they repent. Yes. And you are right to not judge them by your own mortal understanding.
    He’d done something right? Thank You! Heartened by his Creator’s approval, Kien clasped his sword’s hilt and crossed the filthy, gloomy streets, praying with every step that he’d survive.

    Branch in hand, Ela waited in Ytar’s council chamber.
    Expressionless, Tsir Aun rolled up a signed agreement and spoke to Ytar’s council. “Istgard has your oath, and you have Istgard’s, according to our first agreement. The wall, as it stands, has been paid for by Istgard, but it is now returned to your care. Remember that we’ve contributed to its construction.”
    The eldest council member—a slight, weathered man with reflective gray eyes—nodded. “Agreed. Istgard has been fair enough.”
    Considering that Ytar’s slaughtered dead couldn’t be restored to life.
    Ela almost heard the unspoken thought echo through thechamber. “Remember,” Ela cautioned the council gently,