Read Online Fires of the Desert (Children of the Desert Book 4) by Leona Wisoker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Leona Wisoker
Ads: Link
pain, did not appeal in the least; and what else could Eredion be asking for? He’d done it once, through pure accident. Not likely he could repeat that, even if he wanted to. “I’m just a mercenary—”
Eredion’s tight expression turned ferocious. “Damnit, Tank —please! I need your help.”
A hard chill ran down Tank’s back, that peculiar feeling returning. Something very bad was going on.
“Damnit yourself,” he returned harshly. “I don’t want any part of your problems, Lord Eredion. I’m just a mercenary. I don’t see how I can help—”
“Damnit, don’t be dense,” Eredion snapped.
Dasin, alerted by the rising volume, finally looked up from his haggling. An alarmed expression flitted over his face. “Tank?” he called.
Tank shrugged, still avoiding Eredion’s eyes, and firmly turned his back on the angry desert lord, moving to rejoin Dasin.
“It’s nothing,” he muttered to Dasin, and jerked his chin at Lohim in vague apology.
The merchant’s gaze tracked over Tank’s shoulder. A moment later, Eredion breathed nearby.
“S’e Dasin, I believe?” Eredion murmured, bowing to the startled blond. “I understand you’re a merchant for herbs and simples. Is that correct?”
“Yes, s’e, that’s correct; how may I....” Dasin’s eager smile and easy speech wilted into worried silence when he caught Tank’s ferocious scowl.
Eredion’s smile widened. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Lord Eredion Sessin, the Sessin Family representative to the northern court.”
Oh, hells... Tank saw greed awaken swiftly in Dasin’s eyes, and sharp interest in Lohim’s.
“I try to make the acquaintance of local merchants whenever I can,” Eredion went on. “I find it pays off very well down the road, so to speak. Sessin can always use more business allies.”
“We already have a sponsor, Lord Eredion,” Tank said curtly.
“Yes, of course. I do know that. I’m not trying to entice you over to my service; I have my hands full already with the duties I’ve taken on. I don’t need to add merchanting to that list. I am, however, very interested in good food, and good food generally involves good herbs. I believe I could offer you a list of Sessin-based farmers who would be more than happy to work with you.”
He glanced over the plants on Lohim’s tables and managed to look dismissive, then turned a smile on Dasin. It was a powerfully charming expression; Dasin’s face took on a hopeful, almost childish glow. Lohim’s eyes narrowed into a scowl.
“We could certainly discuss that, Lord Eredion,” Dasin said, clearly trying to contain his excitement. He completely ignored Tank’s glower, but did cut a nervous glance at Lohim. “Is there a, err, better place you might have in mind for negotiations?”
“The palace,” Eredion said as if the answer should have been obvious, and Dasin almost hopped in place, his eyes glittering. “I’ll make sure the guards have your names—”
“No,” Tank interrupted, unable to take it a moment longer.
“Tank!” Dasin snapped, “don’t interf—”
“Shut up, Dasin,” Tank said brutally. “Fine, Lord Sessin, I’ll come with you. If you drop this godsdamned farce of an offer.”
“It’s not a farce,” Eredion protested mildly, but his eyes gleamed with laughter. “Why would you think that?”
“I’ll meet you at the Kettle later,” Tank told Dasin, and then, to Eredion, “Let’s go, Lord Sessin, if you please.”
“Tank!” Dasin almost wailed as the two men began to walk away. “What in the hells are you—”
Tank ignored him. Eredion ignored him.
Distantly, more a sensed whisper than real hearing, Dasin muttered, “You fucking shit.”
Tank ignored that, too.
Chapter Eight
Tanavin’s irritation was a tangible, sullen heat against Eredion’s right side as they hurried through the damp streets. Eredion ignored it and kept the pace rapid enough to discourage questions, but when they neared the
Eredion’s tight expression turned ferocious. “Damnit, Tank —please! I need your help.”
A hard chill ran down Tank’s back, that peculiar feeling returning. Something very bad was going on.
“Damnit yourself,” he returned harshly. “I don’t want any part of your problems, Lord Eredion. I’m just a mercenary. I don’t see how I can help—”
“Damnit, don’t be dense,” Eredion snapped.
Dasin, alerted by the rising volume, finally looked up from his haggling. An alarmed expression flitted over his face. “Tank?” he called.
Tank shrugged, still avoiding Eredion’s eyes, and firmly turned his back on the angry desert lord, moving to rejoin Dasin.
“It’s nothing,” he muttered to Dasin, and jerked his chin at Lohim in vague apology.
The merchant’s gaze tracked over Tank’s shoulder. A moment later, Eredion breathed nearby.
“S’e Dasin, I believe?” Eredion murmured, bowing to the startled blond. “I understand you’re a merchant for herbs and simples. Is that correct?”
“Yes, s’e, that’s correct; how may I....” Dasin’s eager smile and easy speech wilted into worried silence when he caught Tank’s ferocious scowl.
Eredion’s smile widened. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Lord Eredion Sessin, the Sessin Family representative to the northern court.”
Oh, hells... Tank saw greed awaken swiftly in Dasin’s eyes, and sharp interest in Lohim’s.
“I try to make the acquaintance of local merchants whenever I can,” Eredion went on. “I find it pays off very well down the road, so to speak. Sessin can always use more business allies.”
“We already have a sponsor, Lord Eredion,” Tank said curtly.
“Yes, of course. I do know that. I’m not trying to entice you over to my service; I have my hands full already with the duties I’ve taken on. I don’t need to add merchanting to that list. I am, however, very interested in good food, and good food generally involves good herbs. I believe I could offer you a list of Sessin-based farmers who would be more than happy to work with you.”
He glanced over the plants on Lohim’s tables and managed to look dismissive, then turned a smile on Dasin. It was a powerfully charming expression; Dasin’s face took on a hopeful, almost childish glow. Lohim’s eyes narrowed into a scowl.
“We could certainly discuss that, Lord Eredion,” Dasin said, clearly trying to contain his excitement. He completely ignored Tank’s glower, but did cut a nervous glance at Lohim. “Is there a, err, better place you might have in mind for negotiations?”
“The palace,” Eredion said as if the answer should have been obvious, and Dasin almost hopped in place, his eyes glittering. “I’ll make sure the guards have your names—”
“No,” Tank interrupted, unable to take it a moment longer.
“Tank!” Dasin snapped, “don’t interf—”
“Shut up, Dasin,” Tank said brutally. “Fine, Lord Sessin, I’ll come with you. If you drop this godsdamned farce of an offer.”
“It’s not a farce,” Eredion protested mildly, but his eyes gleamed with laughter. “Why would you think that?”
“I’ll meet you at the Kettle later,” Tank told Dasin, and then, to Eredion, “Let’s go, Lord Sessin, if you please.”
“Tank!” Dasin almost wailed as the two men began to walk away. “What in the hells are you—”
Tank ignored him. Eredion ignored him.
Distantly, more a sensed whisper than real hearing, Dasin muttered, “You fucking shit.”
Tank ignored that, too.
Chapter Eight
Tanavin’s irritation was a tangible, sullen heat against Eredion’s right side as they hurried through the damp streets. Eredion ignored it and kept the pace rapid enough to discourage questions, but when they neared the
Similar Books
