Leila wasn't a fighter. But she was a woman, and she had her pride, and she was furious.
Zhi was counting on her. Zhi knew about Leila. More than Leila knew about Zhi. And as untrained a fighter as Zhi was, she still knew more about it then Leila. Even with her body stiff and sore. So, when Leila came stomping back, looking to slap Zhi or pull her hair or any other means of venting her frustration that was widespread gossip about the lass, Zhi sidestepped around and pushed her flush up against the doorframe, dagger-point up and under her chin.
"Get me food or don't get me food. Ain't such a big fuss, hey? But I swear on yer ol' mam if ye even so much as breathe a word that ye saw me here, there'll be tears shed an' they sure as scarlet won't be mine. Here's yer pay fer th'day, an' a tip asides. Come back in a few suns an' ye can spend a whole week wi' his worthless hide. Ain't skin off me tail. Understand?"
The knife-point dug into the lass' neck. Zhi held up the coin in her other hand, held it out. Leila's eyes were wide and glossy, but there was also something of a defeated air about her. Leila had been in plenty bad situations before. Leila knew what it was to be beaten. Leila knew a good deal when she saw one. She opened up one of her hands. The coin made a pretty sound as it fell into her palm.
"Hag," Leila spat when she was further down the hall and sufficiently out of reach. Zhi limped back inside and shut the door. She sighed.
"Now yer jes bein' a damn bother yerself. Bet ye fifteen gil ye won't see this side of her arse again, heh. Ye up fer a game o'dice? Ain't gonna be sleepin' now I've gone an' set everythin' t'achin'."
She sat down at his table, slowly shoving the empty bottles and cigarette stubs out of the way. "If I get meself killed, then Brindle will finish up me own part in it, and ye can pick up th'job wi' Thatcher. C'mon." She crooked a finger at him, expectant.
Zhi was counting on her. Zhi knew about Leila. More than Leila knew about Zhi. And as untrained a fighter as Zhi was, she still knew more about it then Leila. Even with her body stiff and sore. So, when Leila came stomping back, looking to slap Zhi or pull her hair or any other means of venting her frustration that was widespread gossip about the lass, Zhi sidestepped around and pushed her flush up against the doorframe, dagger-point up and under her chin.
"Get me food or don't get me food. Ain't such a big fuss, hey? But I swear on yer ol' mam if ye even so much as breathe a word that ye saw me here, there'll be tears shed an' they sure as scarlet won't be mine. Here's yer pay fer th'day, an' a tip asides. Come back in a few suns an' ye can spend a whole week wi' his worthless hide. Ain't skin off me tail. Understand?"
The knife-point dug into the lass' neck. Zhi held up the coin in her other hand, held it out. Leila's eyes were wide and glossy, but there was also something of a defeated air about her. Leila had been in plenty bad situations before. Leila knew what it was to be beaten. Leila knew a good deal when she saw one. She opened up one of her hands. The coin made a pretty sound as it fell into her palm.
"Hag," Leila spat when she was further down the hall and sufficiently out of reach. Zhi limped back inside and shut the door. She sighed.
"Now yer jes bein' a damn bother yerself. Bet ye fifteen gil ye won't see this side of her arse again, heh. Ye up fer a game o'dice? Ain't gonna be sleepin' now I've gone an' set everythin' t'achin'."
She sat down at his table, slowly shoving the empty bottles and cigarette stubs out of the way. "If I get meself killed, then Brindle will finish up me own part in it, and ye can pick up th'job wi' Thatcher. C'mon." She crooked a finger at him, expectant.
