SAROYA
The nine men I injured in the inn were not the only ones after me. As I climb through the windows, I hear distant cries and I know that their ruined bodies have been sighted. I race towards the stables, my long legs eating up the distance and yet not fast enough. I can hear the cries of anger and outrage bellowing from the inn, spreading until it reaches the bar below. I am running closer and closer to danger but I need my horse if I am to stand a chance. A tear in my side sends pain crashing through me and I press a hand to it, feeling sticky blood beneath my fingers but there is no damn time to inspect the injury. I crash into the stable, startling the horses and race to my stolen horse. My dagger flashes out and slices through the leather holding it and I leap upon her bare back
