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Swordmistress
"“If you see a lizard, let me know.” Amire said as she searched the gritty, sand-swept landscape. “I’m starving.”
Melch said nothing, of course, but in his eyes she could read, You always are.
With a sigh she shifted in her saddle. Day by day riding became more uncomfortable, and soon she would have to give it up—though by then she would be at her uncle’s villa, where there would be no more riding, ever. No more riding, no more flashing swords, no more nights gambling and drinking and singing songs more fit for tavern wenches than young men of breeding—or ladies in pants. Her shoulder blades tingled with the absence of her scimitar, like a pulled tooth that worries the tongue.
Stupid fake amulet."
A short story.
Melch said nothing, of course, but in his eyes she could read, You always are.
With a sigh she shifted in her saddle. Day by day riding became more uncomfortable, and soon she would have to give it up—though by then she would be at her uncle’s villa, where there would be no more riding, ever. No more riding, no more flashing swords, no more nights gambling and drinking and singing songs more fit for tavern wenches than young men of breeding—or ladies in pants. Her shoulder blades tingled with the absence of her scimitar, like a pulled tooth that worries the tongue.
Stupid fake amulet."
A short story.
18 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 11, 2015
1 person want to read
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