Illusions of Decency (Misplaced Mercenaries Book 4) by Kevin Pettway

Author:Kevin Pettway [Pettway, Kevin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781951445263
Publisher: Cursed Dragon Ship Publishing, LLC
Published: 2022-01-04T05:00:00+00:00

The Cattle Streets were a series of artificial canals that ran between the port community of Fish Hill, where the quartet landed, and Treaty Hill, the capital of Greenshade. Polemen pushed barges laden with sacks, crates, barrels, and livestock up and down the waterways in a boisterous, stinking celebration of commerce.

Instead of sending word to Finnagel or the king when they arrived, Sarah strode with her head down and her cowl up and took pains to avoid meeting anyone’s gaze. Curiosity blazed in Morholt’s brain, wanting to know why the skulking about, but he was not entirely confident of not getting his brains dashed out for asking overly probing questions.

To the east side of the canals, Sarah and Morholt walked toward the castle on the hill, with Vancess and Selenna far enough behind to be out of earshot. The morning sun hung low, already warming the day and promising clear skies and sweat.

“What are you expecting in return for this information?” Sarah’s long legs ate the distance on the cobbled road and forced Morholt to trot to keep up.

“I was hoping you’d set me free and convince the king you’d ensorcelled me into a very nonthreatening kind of rodent. Or maybe a dove. Something he wouldn’t have to kill.”

Sarah snorted. “That doesn’t seem very likely, does it?”

“Not with that attitude.” Morholt kicked at a dried horse turd and sent it skittering off the road to bounce off a shack. A man selling meat pies cast an angry glance his way. “Just don’t turn me into a pet. I don’t want to have to watch my owners masturbate all the time.”

“You’ve told me that Vancess is plotting against me.” Sarah yanked on the rope and forced Morholt to run just to keep from tripping to the stones. “That’s not new or useful information.”

“What about the talking to imaginary gods?” Morholt was having a hard time accepting Sarah’s unconcern. “How does that not bother you?”

“How do you know they’re imaginary?”

Morholt shook his head and pushed dirty red locks out of his eyes. “To begin with, he was talking to Oldam himself. The one that’s supposed to be turned to stone on the path to the Alireon.”

Sarah shot Morholt a sidelong look. “And you know so much about gods and how they talk to their people?”

Morholt frowned. “Why are you defending that crapstick? He as much as told me he’s going to murder you. Personally, I’d be grumpy about it. Possibly even crabby.”

Sarah said nothing but increased their speed.

“Hang on.” Morholt ran alongside her. “You traveled with that goddess. Magda, right? Is she still talking to you? Is that why you’re all weird about this?”

“You don’t know me, and you’re still my prisoner.” Sarah stopped and yanked Morholt around so they were face-to-face. “You’ve told me about Vancess, and I thank you. Unfortunately for you, he told me the same thing himself. Now shut up and walk quietly to your imprisonment and/or death.”

Morholt grinned. “You’ve got a god in your head too. Maybe

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