The guards stepped aside, allowing their Prioress to close the distance to Sabit, blade flashing wickedly before her. Sabit ducked the first strike, but the tent left little room to maneuver. Diving to the side, she rolled and kicked, sending Irkalla lurching into her guards.
Sabit regained her feet near Allamu. He offered her a stolen sword, its edge glittering with death in the shafts of sunlight. Instead, Sabit grabbed the long scarf from Allamu's neck and turned to face Irkalla.
"I would have saved him if I could," Sabit said. "You bid me to throw away my future to save his. I did. I would have done so again."
Blade held high, Irkalla circled Sabit, searching for an opening. "You led him on. He was only a boy. He would be alive now if he'd never met you!"
Irkalla lunged forward, her blade whistling inches from Sabit's throat. With twist of scarf, Sabit seized the Prioress's hand. A leg sweep brought the fight to the carpets laid upon the hard-packed earth. The two grappled, each seeking control of the deadly blade between them.
"Die!" Irkalla spat, pushing the blade with all her might. Blood dripped from Sabit's ear, where the tip had found its mark, and now pointed lower.
With a wordless shout, Sabit twisted, rolled, and was on top of Irkalla. She turned the blade in Irkalla's grasp, pointed it down at Irkalla's throat. The Prioress could join her son in death.
All Sabit had to do was push.
-----
Wayfarings of Sabit: Blossom of Ruin is copyright (c) 2016 by Michael S. Miller. All rights reserved. New chapters post every weekday. You can support this and other stories on Patreon: https://patreon.com/michaelsmiller
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Blossom of Ruin: A Wayfaring of Sabit
FantasiaA world of dark sorcery-an age of sharpened bronze. Sabit lives by her wits and her spear. When a cutpurse makes off with a bauble, what will Sabit risk to regain what is hers? What bitter, uncanny fruit will bloom from her thirst for vengeance, or...
