Snow, Gingerbread and Fate Part IX
The market stalls and people became less and less, the closer she got to the outskirts of Wirough. Not long and she would reach the stables where she had left her horse. And then she could finally leave this bloody town.
Instinctively she turned left on the next crossing, even though the way to the stables were on the right. She didn’t know exactly why she was going this way, only that it felt right. Simahaa had learned to trust her instincts over the years and although she hated it, she trusted in fate. Sometimes she was afraid that everything she had done or what she will ever do is not controlled by her, but by that damn fate.
The two thieves who had been chasing her for a while now, were still following her. She would have noticed them sooner, if she hadn’t been a little weak from her fate-walking, yet.
The street was nearly empty, only a few people roamed about; some with their horses and some with their goats. A carriage rolled past her. She quickened her steps and slipped in another back alley, using the carriage as a cover. As it turned out, it was a dead end. She knew that she couldn’t shake her pursuers off with such an amateurish attempt. But she knew that she had to be in this exact alley at this exact time. The feeling of fate had never been as strong as right now.
Simahaa stopped, turned around and pulled out a dagger from another hidden pocket. This startled the two young men in front of her and they stopped, too.
Or should she say boys? They could not be older than sixteen years. They were very thin and what you could mistake for a beard was just dirt. The rest of their appearance, on the other hand, was surprisingly clean and orderly. They were wearing expensive looking clothes and good boots, but they were all several sizes too big for them. It made them look even thinner. All in all, they made a very strange impression on Simahaa and she couldn’t help laughing.
