Ocean Of Fear by William King

Author:William King [King, William]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy
Publisher: Typhon Press
Published: 2014-05-05T23:00:00+00:00

There was no real East Gate because there was no wall. Fortified buildings stood with their backs to the hill line. Arrow-slit windows looked outward and away from the pirate city. There were a few entrances, long streets that ran all the way down to the harbour and the ships.

From up ahead came the sounds of raucous drunken laughter. Men with swords strapped to their hips staggered into the streets. Some supported each other as they reeled back to ship or lodging. Some brawled with fists or knives while crowds looked on and placed bets. No one paid the slightest attention to Kormak or Jonas.

The Guardian wore his sword on his waist. With just his light leather tunic on he could have been a marine from any pirate ship. The priest looked like a somewhat nervous seaman.

Blue, green and red lanterns burned in a hundred tavern windows. Women in low-cut dresses beckoned to them as they passed. Tough looking men eyed them as if contemplating robbery.

“It’s like Trefal on a feastday night when the Treasure Fleet is in,” said Jonas.

“Just another merry evening in Port Blood,” said Kormak. “They’ve got gold and they don’t know whether they will be alive in a week or a moon so they spend it.”

“And there’s plenty here to help them do it,” said Jonas.

“It’s not much different from any other port I’ve been to. We’d best find a place to hole up for the night and you can try and get in touch with your contact in the morning.”

“Pick a door,” said Jonas. “I doubt any of these places are much different from the other.”

Kormak strode into a smaller tavern and looked around. Men diced and played knucklebones in a corner. A good-looking red-haired woman garbed only in a diaphanous silk skirt and strategically placed scarves danced on the table while musicians played pipes and drums. Drunken sailors stomped their feet and clapped and cheered. Kormak strode up to the bar.

“You got rooms?”

The villainous looking landlord stared at him. “You got silver?”

“Yes.”

“Then we got rooms.”

“Let’s take a look.”

“Picky sort, are you?” There was a note of menace in his voice.

“What if I am?” Meaningful looks passed between the landlord, the barman and the two burly men at either end of the bar. Kormak tapped the hilt of his sword with the tips of his fingers. He wanted them to know he was sober and could use a blade.

The landlord said, “Silver gets you a berth in the common room.”

Kormak shrugged. He did not mind. There was more chance of petty theft but less chance of getting your throat slit while you slept in the common rooms of a place like this. “Fine by me.”

They moved down a short low corridor. Kormak kept close to the landlord and moved warily. He had known inns where a man was asking for a bludgeon to the head if he stepped through such doors. If anyone tried it here, they would find him more than ready.

The common room was long with a low ceiling and a score of hammocks hung from hooks in the walls.

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