Read Online The Red Sea by Edward W. Robertson - Free Book Online

short. Across the plaza, a man stalked toward them bearing a stone-tipped spear. He wore knee-length trousers and what appeared to be a sleeveless undershirt; on one foot, he wore a complicated sandal, but he'd lost the other in the fighting. He barked something unintelligible.
    "Do you speak Mallish?" Dante said in that tongue. "Gaskan?"
    The man repeated himself, pointing at Blays' swords, then the ground. When they didn't move, he lifted his spear, drawing back his elbow.
    Blays frowned. "Listen, friend, these swords were just deployed in the protection of your people. Considering that…"
    Two men and two women jogged into the square, three armed with spears, one with a bow. One of the men called behind him. The reinforcements flanked the lone man, weapons trained on Blays.
    "I think," Dante said, "you should put down your swords."
    "The problem with the act of disarming yourself is it's typically followed by getting stabbed."
    More armed townsfolk filtered into the plaza, dividing themselves between the commotion around Dante and Blays, and in looking to the bodies scattering the grounds.
    "If you don't put them down, there's going to be an incident," Dante said. "And if there's an incident, we're going to have to kill all these people and flee to the boat."
    The spearman yelled again, a vein throbbing in his forehead. Blays sighed and crouched, lowering his swords to the half-cobbled ground. The warrior leveled his spear and advanced toward the blades.
    To their right, a young woman ran into the square. She carried a curved sword and wore bone bracers studded with steel. Her eyes locked on the two foreigners. "Dante. Is which of you?"
    Dante blinked. Her Mallish was accented and slow, but wholly intelligible. "That would be me. And who are you?"
    The woman turned on the others, speaking rapidly, jabbing a finger at them. The language was foreign, but every now and then, a familiar-sounding word leaped forth like a salmon from a mountain stream. Several of the warriors jogged off, faces sober with purpose.
    She turned back to Dante. Like everyone they'd seen on the island, her skin was light brown. Her eyes were the same hard blue as the sea. "You came on a boat. This boat brought iron?"
    Dante nodded. "It turned about when it saw the fighting. But I'm sure you can flag it down."
    The woman spoke to the spearman who'd made Blays lay down his arms. The man argued a moment, then held up a hand in surrender, glowered at the cobbles, and trotted off.
    "You were just attacked," Blays said. "And your first concern is the shiny stuff our boat brought?"
    "The attackers, they have steel. Without it, we can't defend ourselves." She glanced at the slopes above the city. "You will come with me."
    "Where to?" Dante said.
    The woman met his eyes. "To see your father."
    Despite the heat, goosebumps stirred on his arms. "Soon enough. First, I will tend to your wounded."
    "That is not why you are here."
    "My father brought me here to heal his sickness, didn't he? If he's lasted for weeks already, I'm sure he'll survive another few hours. Let me see to those who might not make it that long."
    She touched her right elbow with her left hand. The gesture had the crispness of a salute. "My name is Winden. To help? You will follow."
    Winden strode west from the plaza. The land sloped uphill, carrying them past more of the bamboo-ish houses. Some of these were perched atop thigh-high foundations of black stone. Most of the streets were unpaved. The few that were cobbled were as gappy as the plaza. The sun was relentless, but a steady offshore wind dried most of Dante's sweat.
    Flakes of ash fluttered in the wind. Townsfolk jogged toward shore with rods braced over their shoulders, a bucket of water hanging from each end. They all glanced at Dante and Blays, but no one said a word. The men and women both wore sleeveless shirts. The men wore short trousers. The women dressed in skirts, with one side hanging below the knee, the other side rising to