The Ivory Road: A Walk in the Sand by Siobhan Muir

Author:Siobhan Muir
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Publisher: Three Lakes Books
Published: 2015-02-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six: “A man who can’t find pleasure in a thousand women is probably looking for another man…”

Iliana strapped on her throwing knives. She might not be an expert, but she could do some damage if anyone came at her. Brandon stood to the side, watching her critically. She settled the knife belt low on her hips, straightened her robes over her chest, and rearranged the sash on her waist to her left side. She left the veil off of her face and Brandon raised his eyebrows.

“Can’t drink through a veil, can I?”

“Most men have scruff or a beard here.”

“Not of they’re too young to grow one or come from a people who don’t have facial hair.”

He frowned. “There are no such people.”

She snorted. “Don’t know everything, do you? Have a little faith, Brandon.”

He grunted as he strapped on his sword belt and they walked out of the hostelry into the street. She added a little swagger to her step, bouncing at the knees to disguise the sway of her hips. She let her gaze skitter around the street, vigilant, but not combative.

The sounds of revelry filtered into her awareness as they approached a tavern. Lanterns hung above a door with an image of a strutting rooster, and the scents of rancid beer and unwashed sweat seeped into the street from the open portal.

“Ah, the Strutting Cock Tavern. Should be a good place for a drink, don’t you think?” Brandon slapped Iliana on the back with a smirk.

“Aye, should be well enough.”

He blinked in surprise at the heavy brogue and his smirk shifted into a grin. “What should I call you tonight, then?”

“Ian MacIntyre’s the name, a desert crawler and explorer, and a man with a sweet spot for the lassies.” She’d deepened her voice and broadened her vowels until the sound suggested a male tenor. “I be an educated man, Master Crowe, but even I fall prey to the fairer sex.”

Brandon laughed and pulled the door open wider to allow them through. He didn’t look convinced at her efforts, but he wasn’t her target. The hard part would be convincing the local serving wenches. That would be a challenge worth trying.

They entered a tavern full of men drinking and smoking and gambling. She scanned the place for the right spot to begin her charade. A spot at the bar opened up and she stomped through the tables, appraising all the women in the place with an appreciative eye. Brandon followed her with an amused expression on his face, waiting for the game to begin.

They both ordered ales and Iliana settled into her role as Ian MacIntyre. I just hope I remember enough about the men in the bars from my home town. It’d been a while since she’d visited small town Oregon, but the fishing fleets always brought in men to the bars. They hadn’t been her favorite tourists, but they’d certainly painted an interesting picture of fishermen.

“You say you’re a desert crawler.” Brandon’s voice cut across her musings. “You must have seen women of all colors and shapes in your travels.

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