Honour of the Grave by Robin D. Laws

Author:Robin D. Laws
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9780743443548
Publisher: Games Workshop
Published: 2003-06-17T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

Despite the blanket of quiet that smothered the town, the Dolorosa La Bara bulged with shouting, laughing, coughing patrons. Items of gold, from brooches to chalices, sat heaped on a table, where drinkers frantically threw dice, sweat pouring down their faces. They’d decided, evidently, to at least feel the ecstatic mortification of losing their possessions in a game of chance, instead of giving them up to the soldiers outside the gates. Franziskus, ensconced at the bar on a well-padded stool, wondered what the eventual winner was supposed to do with his haul. Bury it, perhaps, and hope to come back later?

The young Stirlander had forgone his usual ale, electing instead to knock down cups of watered-down rum. It was diluted but burned his tongue and gullet all the same. He twitched his hand at Giacomo, the barman, who refilled him and slid his pennies from the damp wooden counter. Behind him, a hawk-nosed young man in torn mendicant’s robes screamed something about the apocalypse. He’d renounced forever his vows of temperance, though Franziskus suspected that tomorrow morning’s hangover might provoke their abrupt renewal.

Angelika slid onto the stool next to him. “Evening, Franziskus,” she’d said.

He hadn’t seen her come in. But, then again, it had been hours since he’d stopped looking at the doorway. “Did you learn anything?”

“About Lukas? No.”

Giacomo needed no prompting to set a cup before her, and fill it with brandy.

She sipped, and stuck out her tongue. “This is hard to take, after that Angoumelle.”

“Did you enjoy his finer vintage, the one he had upstairs?” Franziskus regretted the words as soon as they passed his lips. Or rather, their tone gave him away; he’d meant to sound offhand and comradely, but sarcasm had crept in anyway.

“We didn’t get to it,” Angelika said. She set her brandy down and peered into it.

“So he continued to deny any knowledge of the boy?”

She nodded.

“You didn’t believe him, I hope.”

“You think me the sort of person to lose all reason over a glittering pair of grey eyes and a lovely wolfs grin? Please!”

“Then why did you—” He caught himself short. He thought everyone in the bar would be looking at him, after this outburst, but the volume of his voice was nothing compared to the hysterical bellowing around them, so not a single head turned their way. He finished his drink and slammed the cup on the bar. Angelika looked at him with obvious disgust. “Pardon my indiscretion,” he said.

She did not give him the relief of a reply.

He tried to catch Giacomo’s eye, but the barkeep was occupied with the unintelligible shouts of a fat-cheeked dwarf across the way. “It merely seems inadvisable to… to render yourself… vulnerable to the very person we suspect of being our adversary. Not just suspect—we have good reason to believe—”

“I’ll be my own judge of what’s safe,” she said. “Besides, one thing has nothing to do with the other.”

“Don’t think that I think I have any sort of claim on you,” Franziskus said. The rum made him feel apart from himself, like it was some other fellow he could hear talking to her.

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