1941758339 (F) by Gary Whitta

Author:Gary Whitta [Whitta, Gary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sci Fi & Fantasy, Fantasy, Historical
ISBN: 9781941758410
Google: edsBrgEACAAJ
Amazon: 1941758339
Publisher: Inkshares
Published: 2015-07-01T04:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

“Why did you help me?”

Indra looked up. Only now did she realize that the nameless beggar had been looking at her. She had become so entranced by the flickering and dancing of the flames that she had no idea how much time had passed since she sat down. All she knew was that she had felt a greater calm in that time than she could ever remember, a deep sense of serenity and well-being that was all but unknown in her young life. She wished it could have lasted forever.

“I thought we were not—”

“It is my condition, so my condition to break,” said Wulfric. He paused for a moment, then, “You do not have to answer. Forget that I asked.” He looked back into the fire. He appeared to Indra to regret having spoken. What could happen in a life, she wondered, to turn someone into this—a man seemingly afraid of even the most basic human contact?

“Why does any soul help another?” she replied. Was it wise to answer his question with a question? This conversation was new and fragile, and the man across from her was clearly unsure about having started it. If she appeared too clever or coy, he might retreat to silence, and there was much she still wanted to know.

“I’m a Christian,” Indra said. “At least I try to be. It’s my duty to help those in need.” She took a branch from the ground and poked at the fire. “Besides, I don’t like bullies.”

He nodded, seeming satisfied by her answer but also perhaps a little surprised. “Not much Christian charity around nowadays,” he observed, grim.

Indra nodded in agreement. These were dire times, and most folk had far too many troubles of their own to worry about others. But then, wasn’t that when simple acts of selflessness were needed most? As she saw it, it was easy to give of oneself when it cost little or nothing to do so. It was in times like these, when generosity meant sacrifice, that one’s true character was tested and revealed.

“What happened with the men at the crossroads?” Wulfric asked. The question had been eating at him since she arrived in the clearing. He had assumed they would leave her beaten or dead where she had challenged them. To see her here, unharmed, meant either she had somehow talked three belligerent cutthroats out of a fight that she herself had picked with them, or . . . No, there was no other explanation he could think of.

“I didn’t want to fight them,” Indra said, looking away, into the fire again. “Alas, I could not persuade them otherwise.”

Wulfric looked hard at her, trying to divine something beyond her words. All he could sense from her was a strong unwillingness to speak of it further. This puzzled him. He had half expected her to tell some tale of how she had valorously defeated the three of them in mortal combat. In his time, he had seen plenty of that—braggarts and liars

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