Sword-Breaker by Jennifer Roberson

Author:Jennifer Roberson
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi

Twenty-five

She drank more than expected. Ate less than I'd hoped. But one thing I've learned is, you can't tell a woman anything. Especially a drunk Delilah.

Except, I wasn't sure she was. A little maybe. A bit on the warm side, with a glitter in blue eyes and pale rose blooming in her cheeks. But mostly, she was happy.

Now, you might argue being generally happy is not a bad thing for a man. A happy woman is even better. A happy Del might be best of all--except I didn't know what to do with her.

Well, yes, I did. But she was in no condition.

Or was she?

But it was a bad idea. She'd only argue that I'd taken advantage of her, and I suppose she'd be half right. And saying half is a big concession; we were bed partners. How do you take advantage of someone who shares your bed anyway?

By letting her get herself drunk, then taking her off for a coupling she wouldn't remember anyway in the thumping of her head and the upheaval in her belly.

I like to think I leave a woman with a better memory than that.

Left, more like. I hadn't had a woman other than Del for--oh, I can't remember. Which worried me, a little. Shouldn't I remember? Shouldn't I want to remember? Hoolies, it wasn't worth it. I poured more aqivi.

Del saw him before I did, which wasn't really surprising since she sat with her back to the wall, and I sat with mine to the room. Which meant that when the man arrived, Del was already watching every move he made with intent, almost avid eyes.

Hands hung at his sides. Rings glinted in poor light. Gauzy saffron underrobe, embroidered with golden thread; copper-dyed burnous of exquisite cut and fabric; a wide leather belt studded with agate and jade. "I have coin," he said. "How much will you sell her for?"

For only an instant it caught me off-guard. And then I remembered: this was the South. I'd been north for long enough to forget some of the customs, such as buying and selling people whenever the urge struck.

I looked at Del. Saw the illusory blandness that was prelude to attack.

I beat her to it. "Who? Her?" A flick of a newborn fingernail indicated the subject. "You don't want to buy her."

"I want her. How much?"

I didn't look up at him. Didn't have to. I knew he had the coin. He wore too much of it. "Not for sale," I said, and drank more aqivi.

"Name your price."

Inwardly, I sighed. "How do you know she's worth it?"

"I buy--differences." The word was oddly inflected.

"I judge differently than other men... worth is what I make it."

Carefully, I set down the cup. Swiveled slightly on my stool and looked up at the man. Contained my surprise: he was about my age, and very fair of feature. A Southroner, no question, but crossed with something else. The sharp tribal edge was blunted, softening his angles. The aqivi-pale eyes were intelligent, and very, very patient.

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