[Shadowed Path 01] - A Woman Worth Ten Coppers by Morgan Howell Page A

and Yim saw two forms. One was Flora, who grasped the lid. She stood to one side. A younger woman leaned over the chest. She gripped a stout club. Yim’s heels pointed straight at her. Yim thrust her legs with all her force and caught the woman in the stomach. Fossa flew backward, doubled over.
    Yim tried to climb out of the chest, but her position impeded her. She was on her back with her legs dangling out. She grabbed the edge of the chest to pull herself up. Meanwhile, Flora was aware something had gone wrong. “Fossa, wha’ be happenin’?”
    For a moment, Fossa could only gasp for breath. “Cl…Cl…Close it!”
    By then, Yim was partway out, so when Flora slammed down the lid, it struck Yim’s legs and shoulder. Flora instinctively groped for the obstruction. When she did, Yim seized her wrist. Flora pulled away and Yim used that momentum to raise herself enough to cause the chest to tip on its side. Then she rolled free from it just as Fossa, her breath recovered, charged with her club raised. Yim kicked again, but this time her assailant wasn’t caught surprised. She swung at Yim’s shin and struck a glancing blow.
    The pain in Yim’s leg was so intense that she momentarily thought her bone had been broken. But terror gripped and energized her. Despite her pain, she rolled and sprang to her feet beside the dangling chain. She grabbed it and pulled it loose, then spun so the heavy hook swung in her attacker’s direction. The chain struck Fossa’s neck and the momentum of the massive hook caused the links to wrap around her throat. Yim yanked hard. Fossa fell sprawling on the floor and lay still. When her assailant didn’t rise, Yim half ran and half limped from the room. Behind her, Flora began to wail.
    Yim made her way through the outer chambers into the sunlight. Then she sped back down the path as quickly as she could. Terror spurred her more than fear of pursuit; she craved to be far from the horrors in the dark building. When Yim encountered the stream, she followed it toward the road. The brambles that crowded the waterway’s bank scratched her arms and legs, but she was mindless of her hurts. Her only concern was to reach the place Honus had left her before he returned from his hunt. She was approaching the road when she spied him following tracks that she thought she had skillfully hidden. Knowing that she had no other option, Yim stepped into the stream, feeling apprehensive. Then she called out, “Master!”
    Honus bounded up to her. The rage tattooed on his face seemed to mirror his true feelings. Yim steeled herself for his blows, but he halted without striking her. “Is this how you rest? By betraying my kindness?”
    “Master…”
    “Take care how you answer. A lie will serve you ill.”
    “I…I ran away, Master.”
    “I thought as much.”
    “But I was coming back.”
    Honus took in the darkening bruise on Yim’s shin, her bloody scratches, and the lingering look of terror in her eyes. “Why? Didn’t you enjoy your freedom?”
    “I’ve had a change of heart. I truly have.”
    “What inspired this miracle?” asked Honus, giving the impression that he had some idea.
    Yim chose an answer that was vague but honest. “I didn’t value your protection until I was without it. Now I know I’m safer with you.”
    “And I’ve learned you’re nothing but aggravation.”
    It suddenly occurred to Yim that Honus might abandon her. That seemed far worse than any beating, and the prospect panicked her. “But you still need me!”
    “Perhaps. Theodus said I should never carry my own burden, so I believed I needed you to bear my pack.”
    “Surely that hasn’t changed.”
    “Bearers often speak in obscure ways. Perhaps I mistook his meaning.”
    Yim felt a chill at the pit of her stomach. “Please don’t leave me here!”
    “I’m only a Sarf. It’s not my place to gainsay my Bearer.”
    “I’ll be less aggravating, Master. I swear!”
    Honus made a show of deliberating before