Underground Pirates

A Reason For Revenge

"Now what are we going to do about your blade," Clacks said, trying his best to balance on his temporary foot. He had already stumbled three times and they had barely made it to the first intersection.

"No, first we need to find you a crutch or something. I wonder if Martha has anything," Sarin said, looking toward the tent that housed her exam room.

"Only one way to find out, but you'll need to help me get there, I think."

Leaning heavily upon Sarin's good shoulder, Clacks hopped more than walked across the small square, ignoring the shouting and jostling of the crowd around them.

It took them fifteen minutes to cross the street, mostly due to the mass of people, but partly because twice they had to stop so Clacks could rest. "Sorry bout this buddy."

"It's fine, I mean, I know you're not, missing the foot and all, but I'm getting a, erm, kick out of this. It's not often that I am the one helping you. Especially in my state." Sarin shrugged, and winced at the pain. "Knock, knock," he called out as they made their way to the flap of Martha's place.

"Come in," came her distracted reply.

The two men entered, to see Martha, with her back to them, working on a young woman who had a nasty looking cut on her left forearm.

"This is going to sting," Martha told the girl as she ladled a clear, viscous liquid over the wound. "Don't move for a minute sweetie," She said, patting the wounded woman's shoulder. "Now what can I do for you two," she asked as she turned, eliciting a growl from Sarin. Her left eye was almost swollen shut, her cheek a deep purple.

"Who did that?"

"Who do you think? Now calm down. He's long gone now," she said, glancing at her nearly empty shelves.

"He take all of your medicine too?"

"Not all of it," She said, holding up the jar she had pulled the liquid from.

"When?"

"Last night, like I said, he's long gone. Besides, you've got a broken wing and a bent up sword. And by the looks of it, your friend isn't doing so hot either."

Sarin looked at Clacks, who was leaning against one of the shelves, out of breath. "Kind of. We were hoping you might have a crutch or something we could use until he was back on his own foot."

Clacks groaned. "You've been planning that, haven't you. I bet that's really the reason we're here, just for that stupid joke."

"No, that one just came to me. Sorry."

"Boys," Martha interrupted the two of them, "I've got something you can use, but I need your help for a minute." She turned back to the young woman, "I'm sorry Maggie, but I don't have anything to numb the pain. This is going to hurt. Clacks, hold her arm down, Sarin, do your best to keep her other arm tight, I don't need her causing anymore damage."

The young lady looked pleadingly at the men as they stepped to either side of the picnic table and clamped her arms down against it.

"Turn the arm," Martha said as she pulled out a needle and held it with a pair of tongues over the open flame, pulling it out once it glowed red hot. She let it cool for a moment before sliding a black thread through its eye. "Ready?"

Maggie whimpered as the needle pierced her flesh, but quickly, and with deft hands that belied her age, Martha had the wound sewn shut and tied off, cutting the string with her teeth. "There you go sweetie," Martha said as she stepped away from the table. "Next time, be more careful."