King of the Seditious

He was crossing the courtyard toward the small lake holding Winter Haven. The tiny lake I built the fortress around. He reached the floating alehouse and saw a shadow rounding from the back deck framing it.

He noticed the shapely curves but dismissed the idea it was Murah as quickly as he saw the shape. Not her.

Who?

She stepped under the torches framing the sign swaying above the alehouse.

Bell. Bellie? Billy? What’s her bloody name? He’d paid no attention when she’d introduced herself. Or any time after that. Only indulging her until Murah came into view.

And she serves me when Murah refuses.

What’s she doing out here? He tilted his head, curious.

“I’ve been waiting for you…” She said in a breathy voice.

Oh, that’s why.

Not a chance.

She reached a pale hand to caress his chest.

He dodged it. Rearing back. “What are you doing?”

“I wanted to offer you a night of vast pleasure. I’m quite the delight.”

“Hmm…” He murmured.

Not for me.

“Not interested.” He wove around her.

She desperately caught at the back of his black leather tunic. “Stop! You haven’t heard me out.”

He rounded and smacked her hand from his clothing. “What are you doing?”

“I was still speaking with-”

“No. You were trying to talk tome.” He corrected. “Despite that I was very clear regarding my disinterest.”

Her brow furrowed in annoyance. “Why?”

“Because I’m not for you.”

“Why?”

I hate questions. More so, from this wench.

“Because I said so. I belong to another.”

“Dimurah.” She said hatefully.

Stilling him, with his hand on the handle. “You work for her.”

She should’ve heard the dangerous note in his voice but was too accustomed to bending men to her wishes to be attentive to such things.

“Doesn’t mean I like her.” She shrugged.

“You should.”

“I don’t.”

“You should be thankful to her for giving you a roof over your head.”

“I’m not. I can always find a place.” She said huskily.

“Careful, Wench.” He warned. Angling his head to give her a sideways look. “You’re treading dangerous ground.”

“Because I don’t like her?” She said cattily.

“Because I do. I’m hers. Not for you.” He enunciated it hoping it might sink in past whatever shallow thoughts were swinging through her dainty brain.

Unlikely though. Her next words confirmed his suspicions.

“I’m so much more than she is.” She cupped her breasts to emphasize their ample size.

His eyes didn’t flick from her face. Her very annoying face.

She oozes stupidity.

“Actually, far less.” He said boredly.

“Take a taste and see if you still think so.” She sidled closer.

“I’d rather suck a handful of Limilus.”

The poison flower would likely taste better.

And be healthier afterward.

“Nothing about you is alluring to me.” He said derisively. “You’re a sullied, foolish woman, who clearly lacks allegiance. If you can’t even show loyalty to the employer that keeps you clothed, fed and housed, you certainly would have no ability to be loyal to a lover. Your kind disgusts me.” He gave her his back. Putting his hand on the handle to push open the door.

“Harlots?” She said, face revealing how deeply he’d wounded her.

“No.” He tilted sideways to be noticeably clear. “Treacherous.”

“Some would say you’re more treacherous than me.” She hissed at him.

“Only if they’re stupid enough to challenge me.”

“Perhaps you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

“Perhaps not.” He said impassively. “But it’d take more intellect than you possess to prove that to me.”

“You’re vile!” She stepped back, shaking her head. Torn between anger and hurt.

“Interesting. I was thinking the same of you…”

“Ah!” She gasped in outrage and stalked off to go back around the back of the alehouse.

Probably to convince Dimurah she’d never left.

When she’s likely expected to be on duty.

Joe is a better creature then her. He noted as he entered. Gearing up for some verbal parrying with his pretty redhead.

“Murah!” He shouted across Winter Haven.

“No!” She popped up from behind the counter. Her usual green cloak pulled low over her face. “Go away!”

“Not a chance.” Reaching the counter, he slapped the surface.

The short black-haired barmaid hesitantly slid him a tankard. Retreating as though he were on fire.

Good eve to you too Adrea.

He spoke to Murah in a lowered voice as she leaned over the counter near him to slide a tankard to a man over. “Fire Bell, Bells, Bella…”

“Belline?” She shot him a wide-eyed look.

“That one.”

“Why?”

He tilted his head in a chastising look. Trust me.

“You don’t want her here.” He cautioned.

“Yes, I do!” She objected. “She’s a good server.” She leaned close to whisper from the corner of her mouth. “And she keeps the men happy.”

“I understand. I’ll bring you another.”

“I don’t want you to!”

“I want to!”

“You want to travel with a woman?” She asked slowly. “One you propose as a whore for Winter Haven?” Her eyes hardened.

No. Not when you put it in that context.

I most certainly do not. That would be stupid.

“I’ll have my man find one.” He tossed his head toward a man lurking in the shadows behind him.

She gasped. “He’s the one that escorted me out of the Blue Lark when I fled with Libby!” She cried. Her gaze moving from the man to Savage.

Libby? The Firoque barmaid.

Yes, it is. He blinked at her.

“That’s how you found me?”

I’m not biting that bait only to return to that fight.

“Who is he?”

Savage’s lips tightened. Knowing his silence would cause more problems but unwilling to explain Phalanx’s presence.

This conversation is declining. I should extricate myself. He rose.

“Fire the barmaid, Murah. Or I will.” He slapped the counter as he rounded to exit the alehouse. Exchanging a nod with Phalanx that had him remain where he was. Leaned against the back pillar, unmoving.