Page 2 of Dishonor Among Thieves
I looked over the dish and took a quick count of the sausages, then frowned lightly. “Oh no,” I said, trying to sound dismayed. “Have you any shaved onion? I know he’d fancy a bit on the side. No insult to the cook,” I added. “These look delicious. In fact, could you bring a few more sausages? My lord has quite the appetite.”
“You got it.” The woman behind the bar took off into the kitchen while I helped myself to two of the pale links. I chewed them and swallowed as quickly as I could without choking. Then I wrapped a third in a bit of clean rag from my traveling pouch and tucked it away beneath my cloak.
“’Ere ya go.” The woman loaded the plate with four more sausages and a pile of thinly sliced raw onion.
The smell made my tummy lurch, but I put on a huge smile. “Absolutely divine. I’ll take this over myself. Thank you so much!”
“Yer a godsend.” The barkeep whirled off to break up a fight near the door. “Oy!” she bellowed. “Oy, you! Put that chair down before I putyoudown!”
I finished my ale and grabbed the plate of sausages, then headed to the table where the gentlemen were still deep in conversation. I nodded my apology without looking at either of them. “The soup will be up shortly.”
The gentlemen held their conversation while I set the sausages in front of the pretty man. “What’s this?” he asked. “I thought we ordered two soups.”
I avoided his eyes, knowing full well the best way to blend in was to be seen but notseen. “Apologies, sir. I can take it away if…”
“That looks damn good, Neo.” The rough man with the strange accent reached a hand across the table and stabbed a link with the tip of his eating blade. I was hardly dressed the part of a barkeep or pub servant, but I’d been counting on a man like him lacking in attention to detail. “Girl,” he said, without bothering to look at me, “bring another round of ale.”
While the gentleman was engrossed in his meat, I tapped his near-empty mug with one hand to distract him from the quick movement of my other hand into the pouch that hung over the back of his chair. It took mere seconds to feel about the contents and tuck a couple of coins from his pouch into my sleeve. He had plenty in there and would not likely miss those I’d taken. At least not before I managed my escape.
“Of course, sir,” I said, acknowledging his order of ale. I could have whispered I was a keeper of magic, a vampire maiden—any of the illegal, forbidden, or forgotten truths of our Realm—and he would not have noticed. The men already had their heads low and had resumed their friendly, but heated, conversation.
The pretty one, Neo—if that was his name—was indeed pretty. His long dark hair glittered black in the dancing firelight, his eyes an unusual shade of gold ringed with brown. I urged myself to look away from his face, somehow both rugged and alluringly refined. The longer I looked, the more likely he would be to look back. And I was none too excited to be remembered.
Neo leaned forward on the table, his eating blade lying untouched on the table beside him. I made a note that he didn’t seem too hungry, which must have meant he’d eaten plenty already. I was certain he was the easier mark of the two. I would have congratulated myself on my instincts, but there was no time for that just yet.
“Trond, I need to hire someone,” he said, persuasion heavy in his deep voice. “I can’t very well be in two places at once…”
I dragged myself away from listening to their conversation and bustled back to the bar. The barkeep’s thin brows were raised as she looked at me expectantly.
“Exquisite,” I gushed. “He’s quite happy with the sausages. And the onions.” I winked at the woman with a satisfied nod. “He’s asked for another round of drinks to wash them down.”
“Happy to oblige.” The woman dropped two full mugs on the bar, no longer interested in making the long walk past boots and skirts if she had a willing assistant to do so in her place. “Another for you?” she asked.
I helpfully grabbed a rag that was lying on the bar and wiped the sloshed contents as I nodded, accepting her offer. I busied myself tidying, making myself useful and trying not to grin. Some people made taking advantage of them too easy. But I reminded myself I wasn’t doing anything to hurt the woman. Now that I had a few extra coins, courtesy of the gentleman’s pouch, I’d leave her a little something as a show of thanks. After all, I was technically helping her do her job.
“Look at that!” she said, nodding approvingly at my work. “I’ll put ya to work back here if you ain’t careful!”
I was always careful. It was how I’d survived this long. But I tipped my mug of ale to the woman with a demure smile and drained the entire drink in a few thirsty gulps. I savored the warm wash of bubbles in my belly which mixed nicely with the sausages. Then I grabbed the full mugs and headed back to the gentlemen’s table.
I set the mugs down just as Neo, the pretty one, leaned forward, stabbing a long, strong finger against the surface of the table. “Be reasonable, man! I’ll pay handsomely. Consider it a break from the rigors of the road. The responsibility. The danger… All you need to do is watch the estate. I will take care of your every need. Meals, chores... I need someone to stay there who’s not afraid of every sound that goes bump in the night. It’s an easy job, Trond. Give that knee of yours a chance to really heal.”
The second man, the un-pretty one called Trond, didn’t seem at all interested. He belched loudly then grabbed the mug I’d set on the table and got to work filling the space that fragrant burp had freed up. “I’m no caretaker, Neo. Sounds to me like you need a wife. Not an old—” The man flicked a glance at me and paused as if unwilling to admit what he was really was in front of a stranger. “An old friend,” he said, settling on an innocent word.
Neo chuckled and shook his head, the long ends of his hair dusting his forearms as he leaned forward. “It’s because we’re friends that I’m offering this job to you. My brother’s new wife has a sister, a gifted healer. I’ll send her over and get you fixed up once and for all. No more bloodletting and—” he waved a hand toward his companion’s knee “—booze.”
“I love my booze!” Trond didn’t bother looking at me as he fisted the mug and took another long sip. “And the bloodletting isn’t half bad.” He rasped a long, wet laugh that ended in a cough. While he was clearly a man of means, his demeanor was rough. I took him for a merchant of some kind. Merchant…or maybe a raider, which made both men that much more interesting. “Caretakin’ ain’t for me, Neo. You know that. I’ve got a crew to support…”
That sealed it, then. Merchants didn’t have crews. Most thieves did. My ears perked up to catch the details of whatever job the gentleman had that paid handsomely.
As I walked away, I brushed the unattended eating blade from the table and caught it, completely unnoticed, in my palm. I looked it over in my hand, quickly assessing its condition and value. The carving on the handle was simple, the shade and complexity of the dark rings in the light wood revealing that it was locally made from birch trees native to Tutovl. That meant the gentleman was likely not from a remote shire or even another Realm. The blade was well-sharpened and cared for, and its joint was well-oiled. No jewels that I could pluck out and sell, but this would easily bring in a coin or two in any square in the Realm. I snapped the blade into the handle, slipped it into the pouch beneath my cloak, and headed back to the bar.
With a few bites of sausage and two full mugs of ale in my belly, I was growing tired. I’d made sufficient profit for the night to hit the road. I reached for the charm that hung between my breasts and stroked the smooth round stone on its length of leather for protection. For luck. Then I dropped a quarter-penny on the bar while the barkeep was back in the kitchen shouting her orders to the cook.
I tugged my hood over my head and was just about to head for the door when I felt a hand at my elbow.
“Miss?” The pretty one’s face loomed above me.
His eyes were golden fire—the intense blaze searing me to my core. My stomach sank and my feet itched, knowing that I’d stolen from him. But looking at the angles of his face, the dusting of evening scruff that covered his strong chin, it was difficult to resist getting lost in a face that was equal parts complicated and perfect. I’d known many unusual people in my life, but this man was exceptional. His voice was low and gritty, but his refined words filled my ears like a song.
