Page 43 of Slaying the Shadow Prince
‘Romantic.’
‘There are worse ways to go,’ the warrior quipped. ‘My friend Malik laughed when I told him that story. It was worth it just for that. And before I became a Warsword, I killed a man with a fork.’
‘A fork?’
Talemir shrugged. ‘Nasty tavern brawl.’
‘Oh? What started it?’
‘The same things that start every tavern brawl. Missing coin, too much mead and a beautiful woman.’
‘Who was this beautiful woman?’ Drue heard herself ask.
‘No idea,’ Talemir said cheerfully.
‘You killed a man over some woman whose name you don’t even remember?’
‘It was a long time ago, Wildfire.’
‘I’ve told you to stop calling me that,’ Drue ground out.
‘You never know,’ Talemir continued, like he hadn’t heard her. ‘She might not remember my name.’ He paused, giving it some thought before offering an arrogant smirk. ‘But I doubt it.’
Drue shook her head in disbelief.
‘So just your candlestick kill, then? Looks like I have you beat, and I wasn’t even trying.’
The thrill of the challenge surged within Drue. ‘Fine. I see your fork and I raise you a ladies’ glove.’
‘Intriguing,’ Talemir allowed. ‘Do tell.’
‘I happened upon a man trying to take advantage of a woman in the powder room. So I strangled him with my glove.’ She raised a finger to the left side of her face, where a faint scar dragged down the centre of her cheek. ‘He put up a fight. But not enough to save himself.’
‘And the lady? I imagine killing someone at a society event doesn’t go unnoticed.’
‘She came to my defence, of course, told everyone what happened. She’s actually the stronghold cook now. Gives me food whenever I want.’
‘A good friend to have, indeed.’
‘Next?’ Drue said.
Talemir laughed. ‘Wilder and I caught a wraith with a boat sail once. Of course, there’s only one way to kill them, but a creative capture deserves a mention, no?’
‘I’ll give you that,’ Drue allowed. ‘How about this one… I gutted a man with the bill of a swordfish.’
Talemir stopped his horse. ‘Good gods! Why didn’t youleadwith that?’
‘I never show my cards all at once, Warsword.’
He let out a low whistle.
‘Your turn,’ Drue prompted, feeling smug.
Talemir was still shaking his head as he coaxed his horse onwards again. ‘My friend Marise killed a fellow with a flying sparkling-wine cork.’
Drue burst out laughing. ‘Was it on purpose?’
‘Oh, absolutely. The man was trying to rob his cellar. Marise is very protective of his cellar.’
