TW: Themes of violence and gore. The following is a work of fiction.
Urla’s eyes widened as she turned to look back upon Belfin. In moments her people, men, and women and the few children of Belfin were killed with the blunt skill of the men they had shown such kindness. The cry of anguish left her lips as she watched them fall. after she had crossed half of the one hundred yards to reach her people’s attackers. She drew a long curved knife from a hidden fold in her robes and attacked.
Laukey cursed under his breath when he saw her draw the weapon. He had not realised she was immediately armed, but he should have guessed. She killed three men and injured a fourth before she was restrained.
“Bring her before me,” Laukey yelled, barely containing his anger.
He grabbed the back of her head roughly, entwining his fingers in her russet locks and leant down to speak.
“I may have underestimated you, Cappelli, but you have underestimated my determination to cross this wasteland. I will let you live, only so that I may find use of you. Should you die on this journey, it will be no tragedy for me. Do not think for a moment that I would hesitate to kill you.”
“You should kill me,” she spat. Laukey raised a questioning eyebrow. For there is no possibility that I will leave you alive while I still breathe. “But,” she choked out, when he tightened his grip. “You will need me. If you wish to cross the Black Sands.”
“How do I know you will not lead us to our deaths?” Laukey hissed, roughly releasing her head. She laughed darkly.
“Any peril you may meet out there is not fit for you,” she said. “I would have you suffer an end far worse than thirst, starvation, or being savaged by any beast I know of.”