The War (Blood and Destiny #3) by E.C. Jarvis

Author:E.C. Jarvis [Jarvis, E.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-05-15T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

A door slammed shut down the hallway, yanking Saunders from a peaceful slumber. The smell of stale ale, piss, and cigar ash assaulted his delicate pre-dawn senses, reminding him where he was. The painful crick in his neck from sleeping on a wooden bench with no pillow followed, and he slowly twisted into an upright position. Simms was laid out on a bench opposite, still sleeping sweetly, his arms folded across his chest. Saunders rubbed his hand across his stubble-ridden chin, scrunching his nose up at the sensation, then cleared his throat. Simms didn’t react.

Before Saunders could do any more to try waking his slumbering comrade, the door at the back flung open and his cousin Sandy strode in. “It’s opening time,” she said as she stomped past them and headed towards the rickety front door.

“It’s not even light out, Sandy. Whatever are you doing opening at this time of day?” Saunders asked, his voice gravelly. Simms snorted.

“I always open this early, cos the fishermen go out at the crack of dawn. They often come in here first and drink some piss-ale to get rid of the taste of prostitute from the night before,” she said as she unbolted several large locks.

“Ugh, sorry I asked.”

“Besides, I need to get prepared if we’re leaving today. We are leaving today, aren’t we?”

“That’s the plan. Has Eddy brought the ship over yet?”

“You left him in charge of that?”

“He’s a capable soldier, even if he’s not so refined around the edges.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

Simms snorted once again and woke himself up. “What time is it?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Early.”

Simms groaned and thunked his head back against the wooden bench.

The door creaked, opening inwards, and a thin man with a long white beard down to his navel stumbled in. He gave Sandy a brief nod and pulled the dark green knitted hat from his head, trying to tuck it into his waistcoat pocket but instead dropping it onto the floor. Sandy picked it up and set it on a table as the man slumped into a chair. She headed over to the bar and tugged on the pump to draw a draft of ale. Saunders watched as she headed back to the old fisherman and plopped the glass on his table, and the man immediately swilled the liquid.

“Can’t imagine a guy like that needing to wash off the taste of prostitute,” Simms whispered.

“You heard that, huh?”

“I sleep light.”

“Clearly. When you’re done attempting to imagine old men doing disgusting things, I want you to go find out where Eddy has gotten to.” Just as Saunders finished speaking, the unmistakeable sound of whirring propellers filled the bar.

“I don’t think you’ll need to go far,” Saunders said. Simms gave him a nod and headed out. He stood up and walked over to Sandy. She had replaced her skimpy robe with another heavy cream-coloured robe that was far less revealing. He was tempted to thank her for covering herself up. Not only would it help to stop

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