Story 20 – Games in Politics.

They reached a new area. The only reason she knew that were the sounds. A cluster of chatting people, all of which greeted the assassin whole-heartedly, then fell silent when they saw her. The weight of their glares was crushing. Her wrists were tugged forward again, and she felt her arms brush close to the assassins back. No louder than a breathy whisper she spoke into his back.

“Thank you”. His hand that had been holding the ropes that bound her touched her hands and squeezed. Silent acknowledgement. Secret protection he couldn’t openly display. She kept her chin down as the foreign smells overwhelmed her senses, the sounds went from deafening to eery silent, and finally the heaviness of all eyes pressed into her. She didn’t dare want to guess how many people were here.

She caught the sounds of children playing and competing. Even that was silenced by a parent scolding them to get inside before the “Snob bitch” robbed them. Halina tried to remain stoic as she walked close behind the assassin. But that name made her wince. The crowd must have noticed her little twitch. The name became almost like a whispered chant. The power in their curse was tattooing itself to her back.