A Whisper of Death by Paul Barrett

Author:Paul Barrett [Barrett, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Falstaff Books
Published: 2019-01-21T07:00:00+00:00

17

Though nowhere near the most powerful of the Necromancer’s creatures, taboar, common name ghouls, are (to this humble author) the most frightening. Their speed, savagery, and the tenacity with which they will pursue their quarry can still cause nightmares, even so many years later.

-Corberin of Draymed, On the Necromancer’s Art.

Fathen gave the mug of water before him a disdainful sniff. He hadn’t realized how much he took the cleanliness of Draymed for granted until he stepped into this tavern, with its smell of stale beer, unwashed sailors, and dockworkers reeking of dead fish. He held his complaints from Andras, whose mood had soured after their late arrival at the docks.

The former priest shared his mentor’s ill humor. Fathen’s legs had stiffened painfully. Exhaustion from staying up all night tugged at him, and his stomach rumbled. Although a plate of what passed for food sat before him, he vowed to starve before eating anything that originated in this tavern.

Andras seemed unconcerned with their environment, forking a mash of meat and potatoes from plate to mouth while he spoke with another man sitting at the table. The man claimed to be captain of a worthy sailing vessel, but Fathen found it unlikely. A Sakenin, he had scraggly black hair, piggish black eyes, and a jagged scar running across his forehead like a stark white ridge against his tawny skin. His ocean blue shirt with bloused sleeves stood open halfway down his chest, and his pants were as much stitched patches as fabric. Three shiny gold hoops hung from each ear. The man appeared disreputable at best.

Of course, Fathen thought as he grudgingly sipped the water to ease his parched throat, disreputable in this establishment is a step up.

“Yah,” the man said in response to a question from Andras, his voice loud, accent thick, and command of Zatrim tenuous. “Kalador tomorrow is where we sail. You and friend ride two aesta each.”

“That seems extreme since you are already bound for Kalador,” Andras countered. “Two aesta for both.”

“Nah, nah,” the man bellowed, seeming both angered and insulted. “You take up space, eat food. Two each.”

“We will bring our food, which in any case will be better than what you offer.”

“You still take room on ship, Zakerin gold not spend well in Falan-Dar.” A glint appeared in his eye. “You have amber Drakobi, maybe? You have that; you pay cheaper.”

“I have no amber.”

“Then two aesta or walk to Kalador!”

Andras leaned in close and lowered his voice, his tone turning menacing. “How about one Aestes for both of us and I make sure the Fist leaves your ship intact?”

The captain flinched from Andras, his eyes growing wide. After a panicked moment, he smiled and guffawed. “Ho, you no Fist. Fist dead.”

Andras placed his elbow on the table and rolled up the sleeve of his ebon tunic, revealing the underside of his forearm to the captain.

The man flinched as he observed the mark on Andras’ forearm. Fathen leaned over and saw a tattoo of an arrow-headed sword;

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.