Poison, the Lost Gods 4 by Megan Derr

Author:Megan Derr [Derr, Megan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Fantasy, Fiction, Gay, General
ISBN: 9781620041420
Google: GHaPMAEACAAJ
Amazon: 1620041421
Publisher: Less Than Three Press
Published: 2012-07-31T12:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

When they finally reached his manor, Ailill was anything but surprised to find six men ready and waiting - and looking as they had when he'd first met them. Since leaving Pozhar, they'd relaxed. Oh, there were still fights and threats and all since they'd been helping Ailill find jewels with which no one wanted to part. It was still a far cry, however, from the days when they'd stolen, kidnapped, threatened and otherwise earned their mercenary pay.

It was easy to forget, even for him occasionally, that these men were mercenaries. They made their living doing the dirty work no one else wanted to do, the seedy jobs that the wealthy were more than happy to pay to have done. Ivan and his men were not the usual breed of mercenary, but they were still mercs, a fact which was now impossible to ignore. Gone were the nice clothes Ailill's servants had been slowly forcing them to get used to. Gone was the jovial, laidback manner they preferred.

In place of the gentlemen they'd laughingly been pretending to be were the mercenaries they truly were; simple, effective clothing, all of it covered by light leather armor - not the kind so many spoiled sons wore when fencing or hunting. No, this was the real thing, fit to the man, stitched and repaired often, treated to survive inclement weather.

The weapons were especially dizzying. All they'd worn of late was a sword or knife, and those only because for these men to be completely weaponless was akin to being naked. Now, though…there were blades everywhere. Isidor and Ferapont had their bows out as well. Maksim looked ready to crush skulls, and quick Gleb no one would see until the knife was in their stomach or slashing their throat.

Silently Luka stepped forward and handed Ivan his things - a heavy sword belt to be wrapped twice around his hips, all manner of knives vanishing from sight, pouches for his belt that held various supplies.

Ailill quietly accepted his own sword when Karp held it out to him and strapped it into place. He looked out over Ivan's men, nodding quietly in thanks, then all seven of them turned to Ivan. "The best place to start, for now, is the inn where he was taken. Didn't see much when we went, and the innkeeper wasn't very forthcoming. We didn't have time to change his mind last night - today we will." His steel blue eyes flashed, and the statement was met with grunts and exchanged glances amongst his men. "The place we're going is called 'The Dancing Vine'."

As one, Maksim, Gleb, and Ferapont snorted.

Ivan looked at them. "Boss, that place is scary even for us." Ferapont shook his head. "Serious. We rooted out a nasty little sneak-thief there a couple of weeks ago. I swear, looking at that place I felt like the world's most law-abiding citizen." Ailill grimaced in agreement. "I do not know the inn, it took me precious minutes to find it last night, but I know the area.

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