her skills had only grown since then.
She glanced at the sky and saw that the afternoon thunder showers would soon develop. How long would the two men talk? With looks to the motionless figures of her father and the hapaki again, she redoubled her focus to rein in her wandering mind.
She did not like the chance occurrence of meeting this stranger, did not trust him. True, he did not look like much of a threat, but one could not be too careful. He was fit, there was no doubt, but he was so clumsy! The way he moved was as a normal villager or farmer, not a warrior. Still, a skilled actor could feign clumsiness and act in an uncoordinated manner. And he did seem to radiate some kind of power. She wondered if her father sensed power in him as well.
The Gray Man’s assassins were everywhere. Who was to say that this man was not one of them? It could be as it was three years ago, when they were forced to flee for their lives…again. She remembered it clearly.
The woman stumbled into their encampment, bloodied, beaten, and wearing only rags.
“Please,” she said as she collapsed in front of Dr. Walt, “help me.”
After she had been cleaned up and given food and water, the woman sat huddled in the cloak they put around her, shivering. “I was just walking the path from the river to my village when the men came upon me.” She stopped for a moment and sobbed softly into the cloak.
“They were a rough sort, dirty and mean looking. There were at least six of them, but maybe there were more. I only know that six of them mounted me, one after the other, each punching or kicking me as I screamed. I did not have the strength to stop them.”
Dr. Walt went to put his arm around her, but she flinched away and her eyes grew wide, darting back and forth, looking for a way to escape. Nalia sat down next to her and soothed her, hugging her and telling her it was all right, that she was safe.
When asked, she stated simply, “My name is Cristin.”
Cristin stayed with them for a time after that. They treated her injuries, fed her, gave her new clothes to replace the torn garments, and tried to make her feel more comfortable and less afraid.
“Can you teach me to fight?” she asked Nalia one day. “I have seen you carry weapons and think that you are a warrior. I bet you never need to worry about some petty bandits raping and beating you.”
“I can teach you.” Nalia answered
The woman seemed to have no aptitude for fighting, but Nalia was able to show her some basic self-defense movements that would keep her from being a victim in the future, as long as she kept her wits about her and did not panic.
Over the course of more than a month, she also learned not to shy away every time one of the men in the compound went near her. Her physical injuries were almost completely healed and she seemed ready to go back to her village. Nalia, her father, and Dr. Walt were happy they had been able to help her.
Then, one night, the Gray Man’s men came. It was Cristin’s turn to keep watch, a responsibility she was granted after asking if there was any more she could do to repay their kindness to her. Luckily, or probably more correctly, due to training and constant vigilance, Rindu sensed something was amiss and woke to hear the woman whispering with others. He feigned sleep and listened. He was unable to wake anyone else without revealing himself, so he remained motionless, listened, and waited.
Though the assassins were very quiet, Rindu easily tracked their movements with his senses. He waited until they were close and then sprung up, attacking. The noise woke Nalia immediately and she joined the battle in seconds. By the time Dr. Walt had roused and made his way out of his tent, all of the assassins were dead.
Cristin was still alive, but barely. With a hole in her chest from one of the assassin’s blades Nalia had thrown from a dozen yards away, she sputtered and wheezed, trying to remain upright on her knees as her
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