Kishi didn't know why the soldiers weren't following her. But…they weren't.
Not that she could see, anyway.
She had run down the main street only a thousand feet or so before ducking off into a side street. Running wasn't a highly approved pastime in the villages–for obvious reasons.
And yet, it didn't look like any of the passerby guards had been alerted about her, even minutes later.
Kishi scowled beneath her mask as she pulled her hood over it and her face. Masks…were common, especially among warrior folk. She should be able to get away with wearing hers, now that her hair was hidden.
Kishi wondered for the hundredth time why she didn't simply cut her hair. It wasn't the latest style for warriors, anyway, that was for sure.
But…
Her steps quickened as she approached a small, family-run bakery and pulled out her purse. The woman behind the open counter smiled, while Kishi scrutinized the small sign.
Reading wasn't her favorite activity. More like…she'd never really learned.
But no one needed to know that.
"I'd like eighteen buns, please," Kishi decided. She started to open her purse, but it slipped through her fingers. Flushing, she bent to pick it up.
Someone was behind her. Kishi saw their boots and rose just a touch more slowly than she normally would have.
The woman was already putting the buns into a bag. "Nice and warm, miss," she assured Kishi, who smiled distantly as she counted some coins and dropped them neatly onto the counter.
The older woman glanced over them for a moment, then handed her the bag. "Have a good day, miss!"
"You, too." Kishi's fingers curled around the top of the bag with a gentleness that lied away the hunger inside her.
She stepped away from the small bakery stand, but she was listening carefully to the man who had been standing behind her.
"How much are those buns, ma'am?"
"Five kesh, sir."
Kishi leaned against a nearby wall, out of sight. Shoving her mask down slightly, she opened the bag and popped a hot bun into her mouth, chewing very, very slowly.
"I have only deni, ma'am," the man drawled.
So he was Hosharan.
Kishi just wanted a glimpse of his left hand.
"I can't take deni from you, sir. Sorry."
Kishi glanced around the corner, waiting for the soldier to step away. His hand was still hidden in his cloak.
"I'm afraid you'll have to, ma'am. I've been told that every vendor must accept Hosharan currency, Karunic or no."
Suddenly Kishi glanced down at her purse.
She had used deni. But…the woman wasn't taking it from the man.
The woman must be a loyalist, then. Kishi had already suspected that for months.
"Six deni, then," the woman's voice snapped.
Kishi grinned beneath her mask. She had had to pay only four per bun.
There was a moment of tense silence. Kishi frowned.
She should go look for leggings now, she knew. Leggings, a new skirt, and three shirts.
The soldier's voice cut into her thoughts again.
"I know the exchange, ma'am. And I'll be priced fair."
"Then buy your bread at Zayasu's. Runa's good with soldiers."
Clearly, the woman wasn't going to stand down. Kishi bit her lip.
"Strange. That's the second time I've heard that name in the past two days."
Runa Zayasu? That was the name of the blacksmith's wife, wasn't it?
"Well, ma'am, since you won't sell to me, I shall simply have to provide for myself."
Kishi's eyes widened.
He wasn't–
"Get your dirty hands away from my bread!"
Her mouth dropped open, the bun in her hand temporarily forgotten.
Then her hand tightened around it as she turned the corner, the hood of her cloak slipping back as she went and shoved her mask back onto her face.
"I can't believe you're selling these for six deni!" Kishi muttered, letting the bun fall to the ground. It hit the brick street only inches away from the soldier's boots.
He started, jerking his right hand away from the bread on the counter as he stared at her.
Kishi's eyes were locked on the baker woman. "Really…this is supposed to pass for bread?" Kishi marched up to the counter, ignoring the soldier.
He didn't move. She could feel his eyes on her back.
"Miss…I…"
"Rats in the flour, or what?" Kishi tilted her head thoughtfully.
The woman's face flushed. "No!"
Kishi resisted the urge to shake her head.
If this woman didn't learn…
"Hmph," Kishi snorted. "Well. Good luck finding customers. I wouldn't steal that stuff, let alone pay for it."
She half-glanced back at the soldier. He was already walking away.
His left hand slipped out of his cloak for a moment.
Bandaged.
"Miss…"
The baker woman was still staring at her.
Kishi scowled.
"Laws are laws, ma'am," she hissed as she turned on her heel and headed back to where she'd left the rest of the buns.
They were gone.
Kishi clenched her gloved fists.
A street thief, most likely. No use going after them.
She'd have to stop somewhere else for bread, then.
The blacksmith's?
Kishi leaned against the wall, her eyes narrowing.
Well, might as well.
The blond boy would probably be busy elsewhere, anyway.
Her stomach rumbled. She glared at it.
The smithy wasn't too far away. Kishi kept her eyes open as she walked, but no one looked interested in her.
Good.
So that soldier was the one whose hand she'd shot at yesterday. If he was buying bread here…then he was probably stationed here.
How terribly coincidental.
Kishi nearly fell over backwards as a kid ran into the street and into her as well.
"A–" the child began.
A shadow fell over them both. Kishi looked up and at the impending carriage whose driver was trying desperately to stop his horses.
Her arms wrapped tightly around the child as Kishi hit the ground, rolling away from the carriage's path.
The girl screamed. The wheels rattled past. Kishi panted for breath as she slowly relaxed her arms, laying the girl gently on the side of the road.
"Ema!" A woman came running over to them. "Ema–"
"She's fine," Kishi interrupted, standing up and brushing herself off gingerly. Her hair had come loose again, and now she tucked it angrily into her cloak.
Maybe she should cut it, after all.
The woman bent down, helping the little girl up. The girl was crying.
"Mom–my!"
"You're fine…you're fine…"
The young mother felt the girl all over, half-smiling, half-crying.
Then she twisted around to see the girl who had saved her child.
"Miss, thank y–"
Kishi was gone.
Rather, she was leaning against the wall of the nearest corner, her breath still coming heavily as she shook her head.
Her leggings were more than torn, now. They were filthy.
Why couldn't she just…stay out of trouble?
Still…
It would've been bad if the girl had been hit by the carriage.
"Shouldn't run into the road," Kishi muttered to herself as she pulled her hood far down over her face.
Her mask tasted like dirt. She grimaced.
Then her gaze settled on the stone walls of the fortress, some streets away, that jutted above the rest of the village.
The blacksmith's was basically next door to the fortress. Kishi gnawed at her lip as she mentally planned her route.
True, if the guard had been alerted about her entrance into the village, the fortress wasn't a very safe place for her now.
Then again, who would hunt for her there?
Kishi shook her head in despair as she started walking again.
She just needed clothes. Bread.
Why couldn't it be simple?
This time, Kishi stayed on the side of the road. Carriages were infrequent, but crowds were better than near-accidents, she decided.
Her eyes scanned the streets as she walked. Hunted though she was, Kishi always found the villages interesting.
Perhaps because she had never belonged in one.
A couple of horses pranced by. Kishi found herself staring at their flowing white manes, her mouth hanging open slightly.
So beautiful.
Then Kishi realized they belonged to a hired carriage.
"Miss!" the horseman yelled. "Looking for a ride?"
"No." Kishi kept her eyes solidly on the road.
He pulled the carriage in closer to the edge.
"Cheap." He raised his whip, grinning. "And fast!"
"I said no." Kishi adjusted her cloak and started walking more quickly. The fortress wasn't too far away now.
The horseman glanced after her almost longingly, then shouted to his horses to move on. The wheels scraped the bricks as they jerked away from Kishi and the other pedestrians.
Kishi sighed involuntarily.
One foot in front of the other. One purchase after the other. That was how it always went.
Sometimes, one chase after another, one fight after the last.
How long would it go on?
Pedestrians. Soldiers. Vendors. Curses. Bickering.
And the peaceful silence of her forest, frequently unbroken besides the chattering of birds and the whispering of leaves.
And yet…
Kishi was tired of it all.
There was the smithy. She veered away from it, towards the smaller building close by.
The scent of fresh-baked bread wafted through the air. Her stomach rumbled again as her steps doubled in speed.
She had to pass the open courtyard of the fortress. Two young men were fighting. Kishi glanced at them for a moment.
Wooden swords. They must be training.
Then one glanced up and his eyes met hers. Kishi caught her breath.
The blacksmith's son.