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Yzebel

Hannibal’s Elephant Girl, Book One

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Chapter Two

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Liada

 

The path came out of the pine forest, wound beside a large gray tent, and down a gentle slope into the main camp. Many tents and wooden huts dotted a series of low hills, spreading across the landscape like a small city.

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I followed the aroma of cooking food to the gray tent where a woman stood beside a fire in the morning sunshine. She sliced vegetables into a simmering pot. Several tables with wooden benches circled the hearth.

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She reached for a turnip and glanced my way. Her honey-almond eyes narrowed on me.

“Where did you get that cape?”

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I looked down, shuffling my feet in the dirt. I didn’t know what to say.

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The woman came toward me, with the knife in her hand. I stepped back.

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“That’s Tendao’s cape. Where did you get it?”

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I pulled the cloak tighter around myself, then remembered the young man. He’d told me to ask for a woman who would give me something to eat.

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“Do you know of Yzebel?”

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 “I’m Yzebel. Why do you wear Tendao’s cape and ask for me?”

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She came closer and grabbed the cloak. I looked at the knife in the woman’s hand, then back at her face. Knots bulged in her clenched jaw, and her brow furrowed, distorting her beautiful face.

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I held the cape closed, but Yzebel was too strong for me. She yanked it open. The sudden change I saw in her astonished me. Her stern features transformed so completely, it seemed another person had taken her place. The irritation and anger quickly softened into compassion and tenderness.

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“Great Mother Elissa!” Yzebel stared at my bruised body. “What happened to you?”

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 Yzebel wore a patchwork dress of faded yellow and brown, with a ragged apron tied around her narrow waist. She had her long, dark hair bound up in a twist of braids. She wasn’t old, not yet even to the middle of her life, but what I found most remarkable was her unwrinkled face; the color of creamy cinnamon, her features were soft, like moonlight on silk.

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I glanced down at my body and saw the many cuts and bruises. Only then did I realize what a terrible ordeal I’d been through. I hurt all over, especially the back of my head. I remembered being sick and hot, so very hot, before they threw me into the river. But beyond that, little of my memory remained. Weakness swept over me, and I felt brittle, like a broken limb in a cold wind. I shook my head in response to Yzebel’s question.

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“You’re so thin.” Yzebel gently pulled the cape closed and put her arms around me.

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If anyone had ever embraced me before, I couldn’t remember. I let go of my rock and hoped she didn’t hear it hit the ground.

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“Your hair is wet.” She took a long strand, smoothed it back over my shoulder, then reached for my hand. “Come over here where it’s warm.”

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Yzebel led me to the fireside, where I sat and leaned back against a log. The fire warmed my aching body, and the smoke from the crackling pine knots wrapped me in a pleasant, soothing smell. I stared deep into the fire, watching the flames leap and dance. The fire seemed like the flicker of life itself.

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