It was a shame, a great shame, but there’d be another day. He backed into the tent and turned, and then the pain hit him. Nothing he’d ever experienced had hurt that much. He reached round and felt the small of his back for an arrow, but there was nothing there, so it had to be from when Forza hit him. Broken rib, he guessed. He gasped, and looked round. Needless to say, the tent didn’t have a back door. They’d be in after him any second. He blundered across the floor, bumped into a small table, knocked it over, maps and papers everywhere. He heard a faint whimpering noise, like a dog; but it was a dark-skinned woman curled up in a ball next to the bed – tried to crawl under it, he guessed, but it was too low. That must be the famous Raico. She lifted her head and stared at him. He heard the tent flap rustle behind him. His mind filled up with geometry: lines, angles, the shortest distances between points. The trouble was, she was in the way. The geometrical diagrams became a chessboard; he decided he was a knight.
What do You think about The Two Of Swords: Part 6?
