Second Kiss by Robert Priest

Author:Robert Priest
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dundurn
Published: 2015-03-23T16:00:00+00:00

18

A Specially Made Sword

Even though he wore Vallaine’s chameleon cloak, Xemion kept out of sight lest Glittervein or one of his confederates should see him as he made his way to the Panthemium. He had no clear plan yet what he’d do if and when he located Montither. It would not be wrong, would it, to cut off his hand as he had once tried to cut off Xemion’s? Or to break it? Or to shatter his head?

“Stay here,” he ordered Bargest as he entered the Panthemium. Unnoticed, he approached Gnasher, who, along with several other of Montither’s thugs and drink Thralls, was loitering in the common area, covertly gulping down great quantities of grain alcohol from a large jug.

“Where is Montither?” he asked from inside the shadow of his dusk-grey hood. The lifelessness in his voice startled him. The words had come out in a dull, almost threatening tone.

“And who is it that asks?” Gnasher inquired with nearly concealed malice.

“The representative of Mr. Glittervein,” Xemion growled back, his voice as menacing as he could make it.

One of the others piped up, “Well, you’ve missed him.”

“He’s already gone up to the stack,” another said.

Xemion had nothing more to say to them — for now. He felt the strength from the biscuit surging within him, but he would not waste it on such as these. With no further comment, he turned and quickly walked away, ignoring Gnasher’s repeated calls. The oncoming storm was gathering momentum over the sea as he dashed through the clinging, damp air toward Uldestack. Ready to help if need be, Bargest loped along just close enough to keep Xemion in his sight.

Xemion kept under cover, darting from one shadow to the next at full speed as he made his way up the long, slow, sloping roadway that led to the stack. He got to the top just in time to see Montither knocking on the wooden door of the workshop. Montither turned around and peered back the way he had come before furtively entering. Xemion dashed up the road and took up a place at a window through which he could see a narrow slice of the smithy’s interior.

“Well, hello again, O Lord of Nains,” he heard Montither say with snide politeness.

“Ah, yes, the young Montither,” Glittervein replied with an equally disdainful courtesy. “What brings you to my smithy on this windy night?”

“I wonder, sir, since as always my question requires some discretion, if your helper there might leave us alone for a moment.” Xemion had to lean in a little closer to see that Montither was indicating the large Thrall girl who was quietly eating cheese curds at a table on the other side of the room. Xemion began to salivate at the sight of the cheese curds. He was hungry.

“That is Oime,” replied Glittervein. “She neither sees nor hears.”

Montither walked over and examined the gentle-faced Thralleen more closely. Suddenly he clapped his hands loudly behind her left ear.

“I see,” he said with a smile when there was no reaction.

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