Dragon Emperor 20 by Vall Eric

Author:Vall, Eric
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-02-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

“Who-- who in the bloody hell are you?” the dwarf asked through a belch as his glazed-over eyes widened with fear.

The man reached for the dagger in his belt, but any potential danger I felt quickly evaporated when he struggled to even get a grip on the hilt.

“It’s okay,” I promised the dwarf as I held up my hands. “I’m not here to hurt you. My name is Lord Evan of Hatra.”

“H-Hatra?” the dwarf said in a gurgled voice.

The drunkard cocked his head to the right as his fingers gently traced the pommel at the end of his dagger, but the expression on his face told me something about my words had perplexed him. Then the dwarf took a swig from the bottle, wiped the sweet liquor from his lips, and let out a long, deep belch.

“Lord Evan?” Nike asked as he burst into the cottage, and the other Nobles of the Sword were right behind him.

“Ahhhh!” the dwarf screamed, and then he launched his wine bottle forward haphazardly.

The man’s aim was horrifically impaired, and the bottle missed my friends by a mile, smashed into the white cobblestone wall of the cottage, and stained the pristine ivory a deep purple color as the wine dripped downward.

“Settle down!” I hissed at the dwarf. “These are my friends. They’re not here to hurt you, either.”

“Why’re you all breaking into my house?” the dwarf slurred. “I-I don’t have anything worth anything here.”

“We just want to talk, dear boy,” Redmon said in a soft, calming tone. “We wish you no ill will whatsoever.”

“I-I’m not gonna sit here and take this…” the dwarf scoffed, and then he nearly fell over his own feet as he took a step forward. “You guys can’t be in here. I moved out of the city to get away from people, for fuck’s sake.”

“Do you want me to try and sober him up?” Mael growled through his teeth. “One look at me in my other form ought to do it.”

“It’s okay,” I promised the Tunglian. “We don’t want to freak him out any more…”

“Gods,” Nokomis breathed, and tears glistened in her eyes as she covered her mouth with a dainty hand. “Evan… This man is in pain. Deep, deep pain.”

That didn’t surprise me. Normally, drunkards weren’t known for being a sunny lot. Yet I still wondered what had happened to this guy to make him want to isolate himself from such a beautiful city like Pashar.

“What’s your name, my friend?” I asked the dwarf.

“Yashur,” he mumbled. “My name is-- w-wait… Why am I telling you all this? You need to get out of here, before I show you why my friends call me the blade of the short master! Er, the-- the short of the master blade. The master of the short blade!”

“Enough of this,” Mael snarled as he stepped toward Yashur and drew his sword. “My time is valuable, and I’m not going to let your stupid antics take it away from me.”

“I think we may just need to let him sober up,” I said as I stepped forward and gently pushed Mael’s sword down.

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