Just like that, she swiped her sword across the priest’s face, killing the song. The ensuing silence was heartbreaking in its emptiness, punctuated only by the priest’s gagging. Some onlookers cried out. Others cursed. Mari cursed with them, but they were merely fifteen or so commoners facing armed imperial soldiers. The woman wiped her sword and sheathed it while showing open contempt for the onlookers.

The priest collapsed, the wound bloody but not fatal. Mari rushed to his side, doing her best to ignore the soldiers. Stasia’s going to be so mad at me, she thought, but she had to get involved.

“It’s all right,” she whispered as she took the naked priest into her arms. “Let’s get you somewhere quiet.”

The man tried to respond, but only blood came out of his mouth. The sword had cut a gash across his cheek, and worse was the damage done to the tip of his tongue. Brutal to look at, but he’d live if mended in time, and perhaps even one day sing again.

“Get away from the heretic,” the female soldier said. “Unless you want yourself branded one as well.”

Mari pretended not to understand their imperial tongue. Feigned ignorance could be its own useful tool.

“Leave them,” another of the soldiers said. “We shut the bastard up. That’s all that matters.”

Once they were both on their feet, Mari guided the priest toward the nearby alley. Stitching a tongue was awkward and often unnecessary, but with such a brutal wound, she’d need to ensure the man didn’t choke to death in his sleep.

“We said leave,” the third soldier said, this time in Thanese. Damn it, they’d already tortured the man. Why couldn’t they leave her alone? He reached for her shoulder, but a quick shift of her feet avoided it. Still she pretended to be unaware. One of the two nearby buildings had a door ajar, and she guided the priest toward it. Perhaps when they were off the street, he would leave them be…

“Look at me, damn it!”

The soldier shoved her, and both she and the priest crumpled through the door into a little storage shed for the adjacent café. Blood splattered across the ground from the priest’s split tongue. Some of it splashed across Mari’s hands, and the smell of it awakened something deep within the pit of her stomach. Slowly she stood and faced the soldier, who kicked the shed door shut behind him. Mari stared into him, eye to eye, taking the measure of the man. She saw his swirling disgust, his thoughts turning feral. Her perceived insult had him losing control. Would he murder her? Try to rape her? She didn’t know. Even he didn’t know. All he knew was that he was stronger, and she weaker.