Rift in the Races by John Daulton

Author:John Daulton [Daulton, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction
ISBN: 098494575X
Amazon: B00AX91CGY
Publisher: Daulton Books
Published: 2013-01-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 37

Ilbei Spadebreaker arrived by mule at Calico Castle, as good as his word. Never one for the new-fangled fancies of an age, he eschewed homing lizards and teleportation in the same way he eschewed enchantments on his beard. A sharp knife and a handful of seconds every few weeks were just as good for controlling unruly growth as any magic was, and a knife required no maintenance fees. He always figured it strange that the wizardly types could enchant cold spells on a rock one time and it would chill food in a box for years, but a growth-inhibition enchantment on a beard required two maintenance visits a year and at the cost of a silver piece each. Besides the fact that Ilbei was not the sort of man to indulge in that kind of vanity, he was definitely not the sort to pay for it. Truth be told, he hadn’t thought about the appearance of his beard in at least thirty years. That is, he hadn’t thought about it until Kettle appeared in Calico Castle’s courtyard.

When she came striding out to meet him, Ilbei saw naught but angles of authority and ample curves, a robust and vigorous form as divinely feminine as any he could recall. She was the picture of loveliness in his eyes, straight beautiful on her own merits and wearing skirts he reckoned couldn’t be more than three years old. Fancy, but not too much. Her figure was as abundant as piled dirt from a freshly dug mine, and her bosom filled her corset like hot silver in a mold. He saw her and knew then and there that turning down that “sissy feller” selling beard enchants had been a bad idea.

He bowed low at Kettle’s approach, a stiff gesture made difficult by his bulbous gut and significantly bowed legs. He swept his hat off as he did, pouring rainwater out as he brushed the flagstones with its tattered leather brim. “My lady,” he said, purposefully addressing her far above the station he knew quite well she held. “Yer a sight like the first glitter a’ gold in a brand new pan.” He grinned at her, his eyes sparkling as if filled with precious metals of their own. He clapped his hat back on.

She fixed him with a quizzical look, then started to scold him for his impertinence, but the merry glint in his eye and the dumpling plumpness that rounded his wind-burnt cheeks stole indignation away.

“Well, ya can jus’ save that sort of thing fer the tarts at the tavern,” she said instead, hiding her good humor by the severity of her words. “If’n ya want in outta the rain, I expect ya better plan on puttin’ on yer manners when ya take off that drippin’ hat.”

“Yes, ma’am. Ya can count on it.” He winked at her, and she couldn’t stop the smile before it flashed, though she did manage to rein it back straight away. Mostly.

“Harrumph,” she said, and spun back toward the inner keep and the kitchens.

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