Snippet #2474395

Watching Elizabeth tie her arm off by herself with an old piece of shirt made Flint frown inwardly. He honestly wanted to help her. But what did he expect when almost every encounter with her had ended with him insulting her or her people? Quickly thinking he was an idiot and giving himself a good mental kick in the head Flint turned his attention back the the merchant-who Flint had noticed was now standing defensibly on the other side of his booth. The fat man eyed the dead men that lay in the street as Flint and Elizabeth approached him. Local peasants had already begun to strip search the poor dead fools for anything of value, a practice that seemed common among the various people who went by about their business, sidestepping the bodies as if they were left over puddles from a rainstorm.

“So then, we are agreed on eleven pieces of gold?” Flint asked the portly merchant who seemed to struggle with the 'yes of course' he gave in a stuttered response. “Elizabeth here will pay you.” Flint nodded to the wounded Elizabeth behind him. Before throwing the pack over his arm and sealing it shut Flint made sure to grab a nice thick roll of fresh gauze and stuff it into the bag, clearly thinking of Elizabeth's fresh wound even though neither of them would say anything of the incident.