The Grim: Requiem for the Mortal Elves by K.H. Nelson

Author:K.H. Nelson [Nelson, K.H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-09-08T17:58:44+00:00

24

SMUGGLERS AND SCOUNDRELS

Dakil stood beside Sólan, the latter’s hood up and arms crossed. They watched the bustling village on either side of the main road, cursing the sun as well as the man beside him.

Sólan finally broke the silence with a grunt. “Oleg Kinev of Orovín, aeh? What does he look like?”

Dakil chuckled. “A pig, tulalo. A pig on two legs.” Just like every goddamned oddling here.

“I know that, but I have seen several oddlings during our travels to this meeting place. Will he be alone? What colour are his eyes? His skin?”

Yusa save me, thought Dakil. “You ask so many questions.”

“And you give so few answers.”

The swordsman grumbled, “Nipantot ki. You’ll know him when you see him.”

“Aeh. Fuck you, too, pundijo.”

Finally, a familiar oddling approached. He looked different from the rest, with pieces of one floppy ear missing and the other pierced with five golden hoops. Standing no taller than a metre, he waddled toward them with a heavy limp. One hoglike leg seemed shorter than the other and heavily scarred. The skin that peeked out from under his short breeches and thin cotton shirt was mostly pink. Splotches of black dotted his legs, and his pig hooves were multicoloured. As he drew closer, the violet in his beady eyes glowed in the afternoon sun.

Oleg Kinev, the largest seller of Taela drugs in the southern half of the Eastern Lands, held a scowl that could strike fear in many. “Five days, Papuan,” he said.

I still don’t see how that’s possible.

“Five days, and you couldn’t even tell me you offed Kadek early and took a holiday on the fucking Isle of Death?”

Dakil tapped his finger on the hilt of his rapier, teeth bared. “I wonder, Oleg, if you squeal as much in slaughter as the pig you look like.” His nose twitched. “Though, I doubt you’d make a good adobo.”

Sólan’s let out a quiet sigh, as though he craved the Nethuanian staple.

The oddling ignored him, snorting at Dakil through his flat nose. “I dare you to try a bite, mate.”

“Someday, maybe I will.” The swordsman shifted his weight. “But I’m not the one who killed Kadek, nor am I captain of the Silent Dancer.”

“Well, tell this new ‘captain’ that he’s wasting my time. Who the fuck is he anyway?”

Sólan cleared his throat, his eyes glowing green from beneath his hood. “If you are going to shit from your mouth, at least wait until I cannot hear you, putathóta.”

“Oh, I see,” said Oleg. He flashed a toothy grin before scowling once more. “Take off that fucking hood, halfbreed. I’d prefer to look at you while I think about how I’m gonna kill you.”

“Ha! The only ways you could are far beyond your arms’ reach.” Sólan removed his hood, mirroring the Orovite’s scowl. “Take it in, pundijo. Soak in the sight of my face.”

My God, Sólan. You’re going to get us killed.

“So you’re the new Kadek, just prettier,” said Oleg, scratching his decorated ear with a stubby four-fingered hand. “How much do

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