Min sat back on her heels, a look of pleasure mingled with both weariness and annoyance on her features. It had been a long night, and one which she should have, by rights, spent in her own narrow bed in her own spartan room at the Traveler’s Row. But no, instead she had passed it awake and in the thrall of the results of animal lust – though not her own. She had been summoned from her room just after she had eaten a frugal evening meal, to accompany the near desperate looking young boy, to follow him here – to the Spinning Coin. It was an establishment that she had never even heard of before a week ago – and one which she would not have ventured inside for her own pursuits or pleasure seeking. She was not a gambler, and didn’t enjoy blood sports – very un-Myrian of her, perhaps. But the healer in her didn’t appreciate the rending of flesh and breaking of bones that she would be required to try to mend and knit a short time after such fights were staged. She had come, anyway, in response to the boy’s pleading, and not to patch some ridiculous combatants back together. This boy, some type of minor employee of the gambling hall, had been a patient of hers a week or so ago – for a slight injury received in the course of his duties there. It was this knowledge of Min, as a healer, that had brought him in search of her, tracking her down from the spa to her room, and the subsequent heartfelt appeal he had made her that had seen Min somewhat begrudgingly agreeing to come back with him to the Coin. She sometimes wondered if her brain was soft – or maybe her heart – but she had shoved the self-aspersions aside when she had first caught sight of her new patient. Seeing that there was work to do, she had knelt down beside the makeshift bed of rags and got to it.
Her patient was a huge black and white lurcher – the kind of dog popular with those who liked to raise and train such animals for the fighting pits. She was covered in scars and half healed wounds, but on this occasion her need for medical attention was quite obviously caused by her distended belly and the row of taut teats that ran up and down its length. Already, one rather large pup lay forlornly stiff and unmoving on another rag set to the side. Apparently, the bitch had strained for hours to move that one through the birth canal and by the time it had finally made its way to the air it needed, it was already dead – probably of strangulation from the umbilical cord – which had probably also been the reason for the hang up, in addition to its size. Stuck like a cork in a bottle, as the saying went. The boy, totally distraught for the health and welfare of the others still inside, as well as for the mother – who was much beloved apparently – had run for the young woman who had been passably kind to him the week before – a woman who had skills as a healer, of humans, anyway. Min had been a bit insulted, that she should be consulted upon a case of a dog in labor. But the boy had been so adamant, and so close to tears, that she had at last relented and then there she was, kneeling to make her first gentle examination of her canine mother to be.
That had been the evening before and now, many hours later, mother and five healthy pups were doing fine and Min was ready to go. She wanted to sleep, but her own work shift began in about another hour, so that wasn’t going to happen. At the least, she could stand to eat again, before her own day began, and she wanted to put on clean clothes. As a parting gesture, the boy had offered to pay for an ale, the only recompense that he could afford to give her, for all her long hours of vigilance and assistance. Min had at first declined. But the boy had seemed so disappointed that she had changed her mind and accepted his offer, just so he would think they were squared up. He had also offered her one of the pups, once they were old enough to wean. But Min didn’t think she needed a dog, not in the city.
So the two had made their way to one of the bar counters and the boy had proudly ordered up two ales and put his coppers down for payment. They raised their cups in toast to a job well done and the continued good health of all canines concerned. Min had no real fondness for ale, but the taste was growing more palatable and at least it was wet. She had consumed half her cupful, when the trouble began.
It was still early in the day, barely noon, and the crowd in the Coin was light. Perhaps that was part of the problem – perhaps she was too visible. Whatever the cause, two men had spotted her and made their way over to the bar where she sat with her short companion. Greetings were made, which she tried to ignore mostly, giving no more than a slight nod to each. But the semblance of politeness, on their part, quickly fell away, and their comments and questions quickly became quite pointed and quite explicitly lurid. Min made no overt reaction, other than telling her young friend that she should go, and rising to do so. The boy, having spent far more than enough time in such places to not know what the men were talking about, rose too, ready to come to the defense of her honor. Min put a calming hand on his shoulder, but the men, more than a little into their cups already, despite the early hour, decided that the boy was both humorous and insulting. With a knowing look, one to the other, they grabbed for him, yanking him upside down, each one holding tight to a leg.
This wasn’t something Min was going to just walk away from. With one swift motion, her boot was planted in the crotch of one of the drunks. The next moment, she saw the boy dropped – falling on his head with a crash – and she felt her own hair being snatched tight, in the fist of the man that she had not kicked. With a yank, he had her off balance and then crashing to the floor too, on her knees, as his other hand came up to grab at her face, squeezing it between vise like fingers.
“Oh, want to play rough, do you, sweetheart?” he said, his alcohol soaked breath wafting into her nostrils and almost making her gag. From the corner of her eye, she saw the boy scramble to his feet and make a run for the door. |
