jump in some dark alley.
Even so, he still met some hostile looks from the men. Outside one of the plank huts, a skinny girl with a small child tied to her back gave him a gap-toothed smile and sang out, ‘What’s your hurry, handsome? Why don’t you stay awhile?’ Tora quickly turned the corner and walked through a series of dingy alleys with ragged clothing drying on broken fences and hungry dogs barking at him. Where he emerged, a ruined temple, part of its roof collapsed, rose from a grove of trees. He turned that way and almost immediately encountered an oddly assorted group of people.
Five young men in flashy clothing accompanied an older man, who seemed to be having trouble walking. A drunk? Tora had little faith in the charitable nature of the young in this part of town. He had once been their age and poor and had had no regard for anyone else. The young are first of all survivors. Here, in the capital, they were frequently raptors. As he got closer, he saw that the man they supported had been beaten. There were bloodstains on his jacket, and his face was swollen. And they were not supporting him. They were forcibly taking him somewhere.
Their prey was middle-aged, short and frail, his clothes a grayish brown. He did not look strong enough to tackle even the smallest of the five louts.
Tora gauged their strength. Five of them, young and tough-looking. No doubt they carried knives. They were probably no better than the thieves that had taken his money.
He was unarmed. Bad odds, though he outweighed the biggest one and knew a good deal about fighting. Their victim would be no help. On a second glance, he looked like a crook himself. Perhaps the youths had merely repaid him for something he had done to them or their families.
But Tora did not like it when the young and strong abused the weak. He slowed and stepped in their path.
The tallest youth, walking behind, moved around the two who held the beaten man. ‘Get out of the way,’ he said in a threatening manner.
Tora grinned and raised both hands in a conciliatory gesture. ‘Taking your old uncle home from the wine shop?’ he asked. ‘Got into a little trouble, did he?’
The tall one’s eyes shifted to the group. He relaxed a little. ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘My auntie sent us for him. Got there just in time.’
Tora shook his head sadly. ‘Some people never learn. Can I give you a hand?’
‘No, thanks. We’re five of us.’ He sounded as if he was making a point.
‘Help me,’ croaked their victim and cried out as one of the youths twisted his wrist.
‘Hush, Uncle,’ said the tall boy. ‘We’ll get you home to Auntie, don’t you worry.’ He took a step towards Tora. ‘You’d better let us pass.’
Tora rocked back and forth on his feet, as if undecided, his eyes on the limp figure between the two young thugs. Then he studied his boots a moment before launching himself at the tall youth, swinging his right foot forward, aiming the heel at the youth’s groin. The kick was powerful and unexpected. The youth left the ground and flew a few steps back, landing on his back with an almighty scream.
Tora had already pivoted towards his companions, the two whose hands were free. He used his fist to strike the first one on the temple and send him crashing into the dirt. ‘You’re next,’ he growled to the other. But that one pulled his knife and rushed Tora.
Tora feinted, jumped back, caught the youth’s knife arm at the wrist, and twisted it back until it snapped. The knife fell to the ground, and the youth shrieked, cradling his broken arm.
Tora scooped up the knife and turned to the two, who gaped, still holding the limp figure between them. They dropped their burden and ran.
Tora surveyed the wounded trio that was left. The one he had hit with his fist sat on the ground, looking groggy. The tall one lay curled in a ball. He was cursing steadily. ‘What were you doing to the old guy?’ Tora asked. ‘And don’t lie to
Even so, he still met some hostile looks from the men. Outside one of the plank huts, a skinny girl with a small child tied to her back gave him a gap-toothed smile and sang out, ‘What’s your hurry, handsome? Why don’t you stay awhile?’ Tora quickly turned the corner and walked through a series of dingy alleys with ragged clothing drying on broken fences and hungry dogs barking at him. Where he emerged, a ruined temple, part of its roof collapsed, rose from a grove of trees. He turned that way and almost immediately encountered an oddly assorted group of people.
Five young men in flashy clothing accompanied an older man, who seemed to be having trouble walking. A drunk? Tora had little faith in the charitable nature of the young in this part of town. He had once been their age and poor and had had no regard for anyone else. The young are first of all survivors. Here, in the capital, they were frequently raptors. As he got closer, he saw that the man they supported had been beaten. There were bloodstains on his jacket, and his face was swollen. And they were not supporting him. They were forcibly taking him somewhere.
Their prey was middle-aged, short and frail, his clothes a grayish brown. He did not look strong enough to tackle even the smallest of the five louts.
Tora gauged their strength. Five of them, young and tough-looking. No doubt they carried knives. They were probably no better than the thieves that had taken his money.
He was unarmed. Bad odds, though he outweighed the biggest one and knew a good deal about fighting. Their victim would be no help. On a second glance, he looked like a crook himself. Perhaps the youths had merely repaid him for something he had done to them or their families.
But Tora did not like it when the young and strong abused the weak. He slowed and stepped in their path.
The tallest youth, walking behind, moved around the two who held the beaten man. ‘Get out of the way,’ he said in a threatening manner.
Tora grinned and raised both hands in a conciliatory gesture. ‘Taking your old uncle home from the wine shop?’ he asked. ‘Got into a little trouble, did he?’
The tall one’s eyes shifted to the group. He relaxed a little. ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘My auntie sent us for him. Got there just in time.’
Tora shook his head sadly. ‘Some people never learn. Can I give you a hand?’
‘No, thanks. We’re five of us.’ He sounded as if he was making a point.
‘Help me,’ croaked their victim and cried out as one of the youths twisted his wrist.
‘Hush, Uncle,’ said the tall boy. ‘We’ll get you home to Auntie, don’t you worry.’ He took a step towards Tora. ‘You’d better let us pass.’
Tora rocked back and forth on his feet, as if undecided, his eyes on the limp figure between the two young thugs. Then he studied his boots a moment before launching himself at the tall youth, swinging his right foot forward, aiming the heel at the youth’s groin. The kick was powerful and unexpected. The youth left the ground and flew a few steps back, landing on his back with an almighty scream.
Tora had already pivoted towards his companions, the two whose hands were free. He used his fist to strike the first one on the temple and send him crashing into the dirt. ‘You’re next,’ he growled to the other. But that one pulled his knife and rushed Tora.
Tora feinted, jumped back, caught the youth’s knife arm at the wrist, and twisted it back until it snapped. The knife fell to the ground, and the youth shrieked, cradling his broken arm.
Tora scooped up the knife and turned to the two, who gaped, still holding the limp figure between them. They dropped their burden and ran.
Tora surveyed the wounded trio that was left. The one he had hit with his fist sat on the ground, looking groggy. The tall one lay curled in a ball. He was cursing steadily. ‘What were you doing to the old guy?’ Tora asked. ‘And don’t lie to
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