"It's mine", she screamed, thrusting her two handed sword back and forth, holding at bay a group of hooded pedlars. "It's mine!"
We didn't often come to the market, and I was unused to such scenes of violence. I just couldn't stop looking, and had quite lost my mother who hadn't noticed my staying behind.
One of the pedlars suddenly made for her, trying to grab a box she was clutching in one arm. He spun round and ducked, avoiding her heavy blade only to meet the sole of her boot. The blade of her sword finished it's long arc right where he landed, cracking, creating a fountain of blood, bright red mixing with the pale, sun-bleached earths.
"The guards! The guards!" someone shouted. Suddenly the crowd rushed, and I lost track of what was happening. I got sucked into the mass of people, dragged and pushed around, until someone took my arm and pulled me away.
"Mum ! I was so scared ! What was it all about ? What did she keep in that box ?"
My mother looked towards the market place which had now gone quiet, the dust silently settling down.
"It was her identity."