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"I only come for a drink." Cullen glared at Hereward.
The tavern master turned to Kynyr. "You keep him in line, Kynyr. Or I'll toss
you all out."
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"Sure." As soon as Hereward headed for the bar, Kynyr turned to Cullen, his
lips pursed in bemusement, guessing why the short lycan wanted their company.
"Which one did he catch you with?"
"His daughter."
"Which one? He's got four." Kynyr headed for a table and settled in.
"Kady."
Ramsey looked astounded at Cullen's audacity. "You put the bone to Kady?"
"Nah. I didn't get that far. We was in the alley out back, kissing. I'd just
got her skirt up when..." Cullen glared at
Hereward's back and took a seat next to Kynyr. "He caught us."
"You get your bone into Kady and he'll kill you." Finn took the other seat
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next to Kynyr.
Cullen shrugged. "He'd've tried."
"You gotta be mad, Cullen Blackwood." Ramsey gestured at a servingmon.
"Everyone knows you don't mess with
Hereward's daughters."
Cullen's expression turned dour, and his brogue thickened in a betraying
manner. "Not if ya want ta drink here, ya don't."
Kynyr ordered a bottle of good whiskey, as he always did;
his companions went for tankards of mead. His grandmother sent him a modest
stipend that rounded out his meager wages as a guardsmon. Hereward got his
supplies of whiskey and other expensive liquors from a dealer in Hell's Widow,
a situation that was gradually becoming chancier as the
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Rebellion moved closer to Clan Lands. Publicly they were taking a neutral
stance, trying not to antagonize either the
Sharani or the sa'necari. Claw had not yet made his private views on the
matter known, and Kynyr hoped that he would at least tell his guardsmyn
something; however Claw was playing it close to the vest and Kynyr had to
respect that.
They had barely begun to enjoy their drinks when Malthus entered with three
young wolves, only one of whom was known to Kynyr: Torquil, Smith Ranoul's
apprentice. Torquil was large as lycans went; standing at least two inches
above
Kynyr's five foot eleven, big boned and thick muscled.
Malthus laughed and then noticed that Kynyr was watching them. His gaze locked
on Kynyr's, sending the lycan's hackles rising as one predator recognized
another. Malthus crooked a finger at Kynyr, biding him join them.
Kynyr pushed back from the table.
Finn grabbed at Kynyr and his friend shrugged him off.
"What are you doing, Kynyr?"
"Don't get yourself killed." Cullen took a pull from his tankard. "I hear that
bastard's good."
Kynyr ignored Cullen and headed for Malthus.
His companions stared at Malthus and the mon's companions. Finn pushed back
from the table and their friends did also.
Malthus lowered his gaze, licking his lips, and framed a tiny smile. "You've
been watching us."
"I'm a friend of Merissa's."
Cullen moved to stand behind Kynyr with his hands on his blades before anyone
could stop him.
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Malthus spared Cullen a glance before focusing on Kynyr.
"She's very lovely."
"Yes, I know."
"Are you going to tell me to leave her alone?"
"I might be." Kynyr's hands dropped to his blades.
"I'm kandoyarin. You're just a backwater guardsmon."
Kynyr regarded Malthus evenly. "I'm not impressed."
"Call me out and you will be."
Shalto and Torquil laughed.
"If the boy can't beat ya ... I can." Cullen's lips tightened into a grim
promise.
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"It can talk!" Torquil snickered.
Finn and Ramsey seized Kynyr's arms, and maneuvered him back to their table.
Cullen trailed after them.
"Loosen up, Kynyr," Ramsey growled.
Kynyr shrugged and poked Finn in the shoulder. "You remember telling me the
Dreaded Horde sent you to keep me out of trouble?"
Finn grinned over the edge of his tankard. "Yeah."
"Well ... you're not doing a good job of it."
Finn choked on a mouthful of mead, causing the other four to laugh at him. As
soon as he stopped coughing, he gave
Kynyr an affronted look. "You're hard to ride herd on, Kynyr."
* * * *
Malthus returned to camp feeling edgy. If that guardsmon, Kynyr Maguire's
friends had not intervened, it was clear that he intended to call Malthus out.
He had studied all the human
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and lycan arts of war as well as those of the sa'necari. It was what made
Malthus so versatile.
However, Kynyr was an unknown quantity that would bear investigating. Malthus
had gotten the impression that there was far more to Kynyr Maguire than met
the eye. Thinking of
Kynyr logically led Malthus to contemplate the little, one-eyed bastard who
had had to toss his own two coppers into the situation in the tavern. A few
questions directed at a servingmon had produced his name and occupation:
Cullen
Blackwood, courier.
For the first week, he had avoided the five sa'necari females living at the
camp out of fear of discovery: no one detected sa'necari as easily as their
own kind. With the number of potential threats growing, Malthus decided that
it was time to take one of them out the easiest one.
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