Godsquana - The dragon's life

Chapter 2

Humid heat made me break out in sweat and exhausted me and my power, as if I were a waterlogged sponge that somebody was wringing out. I was used to heat, but not to the sharp oppressiveness Dehnaria was known for. As a slave of a Kopanian landlord I had worked under extreme conditions on the field under the blazing sun, picking the wool of firespiders. But work had not toughened me up in the regard that the temperature here would leave me cold. Thirst consumed me from the inside and I aimed for the public fountain in the marketplace of the Dehnarian capital, Scat. But when I saw the deployed city ward next to the fountain, it was crystal clear that I would not get any drinkable water here. I cursed this awful day that could not get any worse. A diabolic thief had stolen my bag, in which literally has been my life. The way I looked and the mark on my forearm would unavoidably expose me as an unfree. Only my papers could've saved me from that. But no bag, no papers.

Teeth-gnashing I strolled across the market. Of course now I had no money for food and I could not hope for help here. Now nothing else remained than leaving the town and search for food and a river in the forest. The sun was high in the sky, it must be just past noon – this would be an exhausting day.

Strung out from the heat and gnawing hunger I walked on. I knew from stories that some freed slaves like me tend to steal in inescapable situations like this, but I knew the set punishments on that very well, why I never dared to cross that line. Every single time when I saw the chance, when a rich, credulous townsman brushed my arm in the crowd with his wallet, I could not bring myself to do it in the last moment. Frustrated, my steps became firmer. What should I do? Without the money my master had handed me shortly before his death I had no chance to get the transit to Tasmania. Hot tears collected in the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away quickly. That's enough to drive one to despair. Escaping impossible. In front of me, kids frolicked across the street and I had to be careful to not knock someone over. Suddenly the mass of people in Scat felt incredibly oppressive. That's not how I had pictured my freedom after seventeen years as a slave. No fulsome joy, not even a slack feeling of happiness. There was just the fear of not surviving the next day.

And all just because some stupid Tandos had stolen my bag. A Tandos, an awful rascal! Cold anger gathered in my stomach, but that would not feed me either. I had to get something to drink and food, as fast as possible. It was time for a plan! A good one if possible.

Unerringly I wandered through the marketplace. In the center, between numerous booths and sellers wandering around with their carriages arose the marble statue of our goddess Godsqua. Her visage sparkled in the midday sun and I sent a silent prayer to her, while I blinked against the sun to her. I was doomed – now only the gods could help me. Gleeman tried to catch the bystander's attention, but their entertainment could not impress me further, instead I only focused on water and food. The heat called for speed. How much longer would I last without water? Probably not long. And here you have to wait very long for sympathy and help. On the big wool market where we had sold the sumptuous - elfworm, – wool every fall in the capitol Kopa, I had seen a starving beggar more than once on the street. Mr. Salamon had urged me to look away every time – the sight was too disturbing for a little kid. But inside of me everything had fought against looking away. I've been wondering if my father had fared in the same way, after he had run away from his master and from us. Without a doubt to start a better life, but for unfree slaves something like that didn't exist. I would've had the chance. The papers that would've made it possible. But now they were gone – stolen – just as my future.

The gleeman jumped in my way. He waged the can under my nose – I could hear the gold coins chinking. He wanted money, obviously. I could only agree with him. Currishly I squeezed past him. To declare his anger he cat-called something in Dehnarian at me. The bystanders laughed, but I only understood fragments. If possible in an even worse mood I let myself get carried away by the crowd. A plan just wouldn't form in my head. Desperate I separated myself and positioned myself at the side of the place in the shadow of the exterior walls. I gazed over the square until my eyes rested on a tall man. His croppy, black hair shined in the sunlight and sweat dripped off his forehead. He stood by a tavern and put a jug to his lips. Whoever could afford something to drink here only got the best from the best. Probably a dwarf wine from the North, a delicacy this summer. But his outward appearance implied that he was a poor fellow that just came by a little money only recently that he drank away now. Somebody from the right royal caste would've never shown himself in public on the streets of the capital wearing so dirty rags. To emphasize all of that was his behavior loud and rude. I could see it in the waitress, a pretty girl, that she felt uncomfortable when he looked down her neckline. But, as is generally known, in restaurants applied the saying "the customer is king". And every dumbass could see that his man would make the tavern quite a few gold coins today. Why this man had puzzled me? It was neither his unquestionably attractive appearance that he was hiding underneath his dirty clothes, nor his brash behavior, much more the light grey bag that he had hung around his shoulders casually. But in the end only one thought made me rush to him like in a trance: He had my bag!

Light-footed like a gazelle I creeped up on the thief. I narrowed my eyes to a slit when I focused the grey cloth bag. It was an expensive piece that my master had committed to me on his deathbed when he gave me my freedom. The closure was made of silver buttons that sparkled like stars in the blazing midday sun. Unmistakably my bag. If I would accuse the man of being a thief here in public, as an apparent slave I would have no chance. The citizens would align themselves with him without hesitation. Logically, after all he had money. And money makes the world go round. Unsuspectingly he turned a silverdior between his with dirt matted fingers and eyed the silver coin with a blurry grin – he was already drunk. Fantastic!

I blended with on-rushing crowd of people and quickly reached the thief. When I squeezed past his table I grabbed the bag's strap without hesitation. He had just put the wine goblet to his lips when he realized how I abstracted the bag from him.

"Hey!" He yelled at the top of his voice and thumped the goblet at full tilt on the table so the handle broke off and splinters of wood embedded in his skin. Squalling in pain and anger equally he rushed after me but I had already disappeared into the crowd.

"Stop her! Stop thief!" Insurgency arose. Merchants, beggars, residents and children had just been floating in calm unison next to each other over the square, now the stream started to falter. Some of them had paused and made the following stumble. Like woken up from a trance the people suddenly looked around and started to talk agitated.

"Stop her!" The others joined in the shouting. I was not expecting that. It brought cold fear-sweat to my brow and with a lot of luck I managed to disappear into an alley, even though several hands grabbed me and missed me by a whisker. My steps echoed with the sandstone walls thunderously.

"There! That's her!" A gasping voice resounded just a few steps behind me and when I risked a short glance behind I recognized the bronze uniform from Scat's town watch.

"Damn!" I cursed when I saw that a cattle car blocked the passage in the middle of the alley. When I heard the city ward behind me, I knew it was hopeless.

"Stop her!" They called out to the confused farmer that bared my way immediately without questioning the soldiers command.

While running I pulled the bag's strap over my head so I had free hands, then I did a sudden turn and jumped on a barrel that stood on the side of the alley. It started to sway by my weight, but before it fell over I clawed at the window's vaulting and pulled myself up. The barrel fell over rumbling and rolled towards the two soldiers.

"After her!" Screamed the obviously older one of the two, but with their metallic armor they were clearly less flexible and could impossibly follow me on the facade.

Recklessly they kicked in the houses wooden door and stormed inside. I heard the occupiers scream with shock, but I knew that they wanted to catch me through the window and I took fright as well. My arms were shaking when I fought my way through to the roof. I had pressed up half of my upper body already when a soldier's triumphant scream sounded.

"I got her!" I heard him shout, then I already felt how somebody grabbed my ankle.

Squeaking and screaming I fought the grip and flailed and kicked wildly. Because of the weight and power with what the soldier pulled me down I nearly lost my footing. My torso slid down the tile roof dangerously far. Desperately I clung to anything with my fingers and tried to hold on. I kicked one more time, then I had shaken him off. Gasping I pulled myself up the last bit and bobbed up. The roofs in the South were built flat, but I still felt slight inclination and feared to loose balance standing like that. Only when I heard the opening of a roof hatch and realized that they would get on the roof over the attic I was grabbed by another adrenalin rush. I slid away, across the roofs, the bag clutched to me tightly. After three houses I turned around for a short moment and saw, that the two soldiers followed me cumbersomely. They slipped in their shoes and could barely hold on. I sighed with relief.

"It was nice to meet you!" I called at them, raised my hand to wave farewell with a sarcastic grin and jumped.

Hello there!

Today I'm getting back to you with another chapter. This time from Zara's perspective. I wish you all a nice evening

Best wishes,

Kathi.