Baron, Scott - The Dragon Mage 03 - Dragon King Charlie by Baron Scott

Author:Baron, Scott [Baron, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-05-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Six

It wasn’t much by Wampeh standards. By pretty much anyone from his galaxy’s, for that matter. But Bawb had been generous with the seized kingdom’s coin, and it had paid off.

Kind words of appreciation, and a very hefty payday when there was nothing pressing motivating it, had made him very popular with his spy network. They’d all become rather well off, thanks to the newcomers, and that had earned him more than a little loyalty.

Now King Horgund had now seized the throne, but long before he ever set foot in their land, the men knew his reputation. Tight with his money, and reined in by his mistress. Ever since his queen’s passing, he had been an even more difficult ruler. Taking a new lover-–even one who would finally provide him a son, as his queen had been unable––hadn’t diminished his ire.

He wouldn’t seek out and execute the spies. Every kingdom had them, and every ruler knew it. That’s why they kept their aides and trusted associates close. But while they wouldn’t be punished, neither would they have employment. It would be back to scraping up coin by whatever means they could, and that was not a pleasing prospect.

Bawb had been in constant contact with his network before the duel between the two kings, but since they had fled, his normal channels of communication were simply not an option. He had other means at his disposal, but it would require the use of the last of the magical charge in the lone konus he had secreted on his person.

Had it not been for his desire to help Hunze in her baking adventures, he might not have even possessed it at all. She was having a bit of trouble with baking temperatures, and more than a few loaves of bread had burned in the process. But she was so enthused, he found himself unable to resist the urge to help her.

It was a small konus, but with its help, he adjusted the ovens while she worked, a little boost while she improved her trade. From what Thomas had said, she had mastered much of the baking arts. Now she just needed to be able to do it on her own.

Unfortunately, her unknown magical lifeline was cut a few days sooner than Bawb had planned, interrupted by the untimely invasion.

“Very well,” he muttered as he slipped into the peasant’s clothing he had stolen from the dead, slaughtered and left on the roadside when the invaders arrived.

The blood had come out with a little rinse, but he hadn’t dared give the attire a full washing. To do so would not only remove the camouflaging stench of old sweat, but would also make the fabrics stand out amongst the commoners.

So it was that Bawb layered the stinking clothing upon his frame, carefully hiding his musculature with additional bits of fabric, making him seem a bit larger––and softer––than he really was. No one was terribly intimidated by a fat man. Especially not a fat drunk. And that persona was one that had served him well on countless occasions.

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