Free Savage by Robyn Wideman Page A

factor.
    Bazur looked around his room. The entire inn was built with thick burwin oak planks. His eyes noted the bed. The bed was small. He sighed. The bed looked fragile. Bazur would sleep on the floor and not test his weight to the slender framed structure. His eyes traveled to the window. The window looked out into the alley and across at the Inn. Not the most scenic view in the city, but Bazur didn’t care. The room fit his needs. It was close to Kyra’s quarters and the thick plank walls offered more privacy than the average inn.
    Tired of waiting around, Bazur left the room and wandered up and down the streets to get a feel for the city.  From what he remembered from previous visits, Draisha is a sprawling city, spiraling out from its center where the royal palace is built on top of a low sloped hill. The palace is surrounded by the homes and estates of the elite before the next ring which contains the businesses and shops dedicated to serving Draisha’s upper-class. Next are the homes of the working nobility, shop owners and distance relatives of royalty wealthy enough to own small homes in the city. After passing by the wealthy homes, one enters the main business district, the heart of the city, where the majority of Draisha’s citizens work, eat, and get their entertainment. At the outer edges of the city are the slums, the huts and homes of the working poor, pressed tight together against Draisha’s mighty city walls.
    As he left the Inn, Bazur walked slowly and absorbed all the details of the city around him. The streets were wide, hard packed clay, easy to navigate on sunny days, but murderous on rainy days when the clay turned slick and smooth. He studied the businesses, eyed the street vendors with care, noting which were light with their fingers and or tongues. A good con artist could rob you blind without lifting a finger, but Bazur knew what to look for. The badlands were filled with unsavory types. Bazur watched a street child sneak fresh fruit from an unsuspecting vendor. He chuckled as he’d seen the same vendor ripping off a customer only moments before.
    Turning the corner to go up the next street, something in the adjacent alley caught his eye. It was Kyra pressed up against the side of the alley wall with three men surrounding her. There were no weapons drawn, but the men’s postures were decidedly threatening. Bazur clenched his fist and took a deep breath, he needed to remain calm and not overreact.  He crossed the street to investigate.
    “We’ll be having all your coin, Kyra. Now hand it over before we have to take it,” said the man in the middle.
    “What? No way!” replied Kyra. “I’ll pay my debts, and I can give you some gold now, but I can’t give it all to you right now. Besides, Grundal said I’ve two weeks left before the money is due.”
    “That was before you skipped town. Grundal now believes you are no longer trustworthy, not deserving of his patience. We’re to take any coins you have and you have three days to come up with the rest. If you don’t… well, let’s just say me and the boys will enjoy what comes next. Try and leave town again and you’ll be buried out in the badlands,” said the thug.
    From the way the thug eyed Kyra’s body up and down when he told her what would happen if she didn’t have the money in three days, Bazur knew he was lying. The man was looking at Kyra like he already knew he’d have her, one way or another. Even if Kyra paid her debts on time, it seemed she would be punished. Bazur wanted to smash him right there, but he waited. He’d let Kyra handle it until she requested his intervention. She had glanced over when he arrived at the alley, but quickly averted her eyes back to the thug. Bazur was leaning against one of the alley walls, hidden in the shadows.
    “I didn’t skip town. I left for work, so I can pay my bills. How am I to pay Grundal if I’m not allowed to work?”
    “Not our problem. Grundal makes the rules. Now