10 – Aftermath by Asprin, Robert

“Gods, have mercy,” but there were no tears to punctuate her plea. They had dried up in the horror of the last months. If he had fallen, or gotten sick, if he had even just died, but this . . . that pale body. Sarah knew the memory would never leave her.

“He’s gone,” she said aloud, slumping down in a cool comer. Thank the All-Mother for the Lady Marissa. She had taken the children to the Bazaar with her. If they saw their mother like this . . . She shook her head violently. If it would just go away for a while. The harsh visions scarring her memory like blood staining the walls, drying slowly, cover- uig everything, everywhere . . .

Sarah was startled by the loud thump thump of someone banging on the door- She got up, adjusting her clothes. But it wouldn’t be Marissa; ^ had just left. Carefully she opened the door.

The sun was bright that morning and it streamed through the door- way, leaving her visitor in backlit shadow. He was tall, with broad shoul- ders, his armor glinting. For a minute she thought it was the guard captain Walegrin. He had actually been kind to her, almost gentle. Her thoughts jumped. News, did they have news? Who did it . . . ? But no, Walegrin was even larger than this man, taller, more muscular.

“Sarah,” he said, and his voice was full of strange emotions. But there was something about him. Something. He stepped farther out of the shadows and she felt a sharp pain.

Terrel, she almost said. It was there in his face, though Terrel had never had such scars. This man’s skin was tanned, weathered, hard like his armor and body.