Raya 47

Even sitting in the common room of the Blue Evening Inn with her feet flat on the ground and the solid spindles of a chair against her lower back, Raya could not believe she was this sore.  The bruises on her forearm and hip ached dully, but so did most of her muscles.  Her gashes from the attack on the prison in Pranan’s Hill had healed well, but still itched or stung depending on how she moved.

Axar and Ailo had been training her in close-quarters combat the last few days.  They sparred with wooden swords.  Since Avri sparred with her hands, Raya also learned some self-defence.  But now, sitting with the leaders of her group, she had to clench her teeth.  It was like all the soreness accumulated throughout her hours of movement, to hit her all at once when she came to a stop.

“We need to claim our turf,” Avri snapped, interrupting Hallist.  “Our group may be growing, but that shouldn’t be our only priority.  The other factions will never take us seriously if they can just walk right through our inn and take a piss.  Then, our land can grow as our people do.”

Raya leaned forward.  “I don’t want to cause too much tension on the district borders,” she said.  “But we should protect our group and have some semblance of law and order in here.  We just need to keep thinking small-scale, for now.”

A few of her friends and allies looked at her.  Axar frowned.  Even Hallist leaned forward and questioned her: “What is your goal, Raya?  You’ve said you want peace in Ith, so we’re intentionally avoiding conflict with the other groups—but all they want to do is fight each other.”

“If we frustrate our neighbours enough, we will be destroyed,” Raya replied, more assertively.  “The Delivered or the City Watch… they both have hundreds more than we do.”

“We’re never going to grow as large as the other factions.  Not before all of this is over,” Axar said.  He sighed and rubbed his forehead.  “There is fighting every day in the streets.  Orchestrated attacks.  Domeran and his gang have taken over all of the Norzeen District, pushing the City Watch back.  We need to act to make a difference.  Or… or we need to start talking with them.”

Avri shook her head and glared at Axar.  The two got along less and less.  “What else could we do,” the ex-slave asked, “aside from talking to them?  Raya, what did you have in mind for the ‘small scale’?”

“We could keep freeing captives and slaves,” suggested Benn, drawing a few bored glances from Avri and Axar.  Raya’s friend shrugged.  “Our group will keep growing. No one can predict how much of a difference that will make.”

“We could try fighting the gang,” Dondar said.  He sat at a table off to the side with his old friends from the Olston Town Guard.  “It would put us on good terms with the Delivered and the City Watch.”

Raya shrugged.  “We’re not strong enough to take on Domeran’s gang,” she said.  “We need to consolidate here.  Patrol the streets around us, protect ourselves.  The other groups will only speak with us when they see that we can hold our own.”

“Raya, that’s exactly what I said five minutes ago,” Avri breathed.  She shook her head and leaned back in her chair.

“I was just trying to decide…” Raya stood up.  “Dondar, your men are in charge of the patrols, but everyone who helps out gets a few extra coins, if we can spare it.  We should all meet again in a few weeks to plan our next move.”

Hallist looked at Axar, then back to Raya.  The magician watched Raya for a moment, then stood up.  Ailo and Axar were the first to pace away, followed by Avri and Hallist.  Benn stepped closer to Raya for a moment, while the village girl was still sitting at the large table.

“Are you well?” Benn asked, quietly.

Raya waved him away.  “I’m fine,” she replied.  “I’m just tired.”

He was still watching her from the common room as she crossed the room and climbed the stairs that led to her cramped inn room.  She missed the fields, the hunt, the wide-open sky outside her Olston window.  She could barely catch her breath in the Blue Evening Inn before she fell into a deep, restless sleep.

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