The Battle of the Warbands by Serena Silverlake

Author:Serena Silverlake [Silverlake, Serena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B0BTDVGNQJ
Goodreads: 91521295
Published: 2023-01-29T07:00:00+00:00

The Winelord

They found the old winelord huddled next to the crackling hearth in one of the few rooms that still had a roof. From the looks of it the chamber had once been a great dining room, but now the silverware was tarnished behind the smashed glass of the cabinets.

A layer of sooty grime coated everything, filling in the carvings decorating the raw timber bones of the chamber until they were little more than the suggestion of ornamentation. A few paintings hung from the wall, no doubt portraits celebrating the winelord’s lineage, but they were so yellowed with a film of smoke as to be unrecognizable.

The strange, rotten-egg odor of brimstone hung faintly in the air, mixing with the smell of the woodfire in the hearth in a manner that Alexandra found particularly nauseating. Indeed, the whole ruin seemed to stink vaguely of burning, as if the fire that had swept away so many lives those years ago was a memory held close to the surface.

“Who in the Nine Hells are you?” Winelord Jerek croaked at them as Pigeon Pie pushed through the door. The old man recoiled from them, clutching a thin blanket to his narrow chest and scowling so deeply Alexandra thought his pinched face might crack into fissures. “I neither requested nor desire the company of harlots, so if you’re here to try and get into my pants you’ll have to beat around someone else’s bush!”

“Aaaand we’re off to a lovely start,” muttered Marie-Delphine.

“Don’t be a dickhead, man,” Alexandra addressed Jerek. “We’re here to help.”

The winelord’s lip curled into a sneer. “I’ll bet you are. Help to relieve me of my wealth and leave me nothing but a destitute wretch, more like!”

Jerek didn’t seem like he needed much help in the ‘being wretched’ department. He had pale, sunken cheeks, and an enervated look to him. Overall, he reminded Alexandra of a bone sat out in the sun too long, brittle and bleached of all color.

“Well? Are you harlots both tastelessly dressed and hard of hearing? Off with you, I say!”

Alexandra felt a deep and powerful urge to flip the guy off, cuss him out, and take her girls away from this place. The memory of Aubrey’s words stayed her itching middle finger and stilled her acid-sharpened tongue. This was supposed to be a Trial, after all. It wouldn’t be the Battle of the Warbands if victory came easy.

Instead, Alexandra took a calming breath and plastered her most winning smile on her face—the one with the heap of crooked charm. She straightened her back and lifted her chin to emphasize the graceful sweep of her neck and the sumptuous, nearly oceanic swell of her tits, piled together in a delightful crush by her mithril bikini.

“Trust me, Winelord,” she said placatingly, holding up her hands for peace, “we don’t want to take anything from you.”

Natalia’s expert eye skittered across the ruination of the dining hall, appraising and discarding in the same blink. “No offense, but there’s nothing you’ve got that’s worth the trouble of taking it.

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