Read Online Missing Elements (The Lament Book 3) by P.S. Power - Free Book Online
Authors: P.S. Power
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a
dirty song about what you get up to with livestock." The words played out
just right, first getting him to pay attention to what she said, since having
kinetic pistols pointed at you was a big deal for most people, and then
reminding him that she was a Bard, not a Dyer. Not a lackey , either. The
flip tone to it was all her, naturally. It was part of her Bard persona, after
all. A cultivated trait picked to make her seem like more than she really was.
That worked with the man, it seemed, since he scowled angrily, but managed to
quirk his lips sourly, instead of pushing for a real fight.
"You were more polite, the
last time we met."
She shrugged, then looked around
the room, since at least a half dozen people were watching them.
"So were you. Now, let's
forget personal grudges so that I can do my job for the day? It's a good
deal, or half of one. The High Energy Councilor has some connections in Luis
and is willing to set up a full shipment back to here, along with her daughter,
to watch out for it. High Councilor Saran might need some people moved
around on the line between Gladstone and O'Brien too. That isn't confirmed yet,
but she might. I'll get with the High Judge and see if they have anyone needed
down there as well? That should get The Sorrow a tax break, making the trip
more valuable, right?" She'd been on a ship for two months so had picked
up a few tips and tricks that way. Hopefully her information was close enough
to correct to be useful to her now.
The Airships were all private
concerns, owned by the Captain and her crew, for the most part. When they took
Judges around on their routes, or Doctors, they got tax breaks on whatever they
shipped. It added up, even if it meant making more frequent stops, and
sometimes delays in travel. Trials and illnesses came first, after all. Most
small villages didn't have either of those things, since they normally weren't
needed. Big towns all had Doctors though, and all the major cities had at least
one Judge. Most people lived in small scattered places, however, meaning that
the government had to go to them, if they wanted to keep control.
It didn't always work, as far as
she could see.
The rather hard looking man in
front of her, who had about three days worth of stubble, which he had to
cultivate carefully, since he always seemed to be in that state, as far a Pran
could tell, just glared at her for a while. Robest bowed a little, then, like
the true hero he was, left . True there was a bell in the background and
that probably meant he was needed, but she still could have used the help, if
it came to a physical confrontation. Jacques had all his people there.
Well, she knew not to really
count on anyone that way. Most people ran away when things got hard. It was how
they survived.
With a sound that seemed more
than a little annoyed with her, the man reached for a book to the side of his
desk. It had a nice leather cover on it, but a loose binding, so that the lines
of twine that held the pages in could be released to add or subtract pages.
Without looking at her again, he opened it, and carefully moved through the
pages until he came to the one he wanted. It was all hand written, but the
words looked tidy and it was in pencil, not ink. That meant it was something he
could make corrections to, at need.
After ignoring her for several
minutes, probably hoping that she'd leave so he could carry on his personal
vendetta against people that dealt in colors for fabrics, he tapped the page.
"The Sorrow could use a good
run. You've only given me half of one here though. That's if you can
really arrange all you just said. What else can you add to sweeten the
deal?" There was a sly look on his face, as if he had something in mind.
Probably thrusting into her behind, or some such. It... Well, she had to do it,
if that was the case, didn't she? There was nothing for it, but to make this
all work. Shutting down her feelings, she nodded, agreeing to whatever it was
he
dirty song about what you get up to with livestock." The words played out
just right, first getting him to pay attention to what she said, since having
kinetic pistols pointed at you was a big deal for most people, and then
reminding him that she was a Bard, not a Dyer. Not a lackey , either. The
flip tone to it was all her, naturally. It was part of her Bard persona, after
all. A cultivated trait picked to make her seem like more than she really was.
That worked with the man, it seemed, since he scowled angrily, but managed to
quirk his lips sourly, instead of pushing for a real fight.
"You were more polite, the
last time we met."
She shrugged, then looked around
the room, since at least a half dozen people were watching them.
"So were you. Now, let's
forget personal grudges so that I can do my job for the day? It's a good
deal, or half of one. The High Energy Councilor has some connections in Luis
and is willing to set up a full shipment back to here, along with her daughter,
to watch out for it. High Councilor Saran might need some people moved
around on the line between Gladstone and O'Brien too. That isn't confirmed yet,
but she might. I'll get with the High Judge and see if they have anyone needed
down there as well? That should get The Sorrow a tax break, making the trip
more valuable, right?" She'd been on a ship for two months so had picked
up a few tips and tricks that way. Hopefully her information was close enough
to correct to be useful to her now.
The Airships were all private
concerns, owned by the Captain and her crew, for the most part. When they took
Judges around on their routes, or Doctors, they got tax breaks on whatever they
shipped. It added up, even if it meant making more frequent stops, and
sometimes delays in travel. Trials and illnesses came first, after all. Most
small villages didn't have either of those things, since they normally weren't
needed. Big towns all had Doctors though, and all the major cities had at least
one Judge. Most people lived in small scattered places, however, meaning that
the government had to go to them, if they wanted to keep control.
It didn't always work, as far as
she could see.
The rather hard looking man in
front of her, who had about three days worth of stubble, which he had to
cultivate carefully, since he always seemed to be in that state, as far a Pran
could tell, just glared at her for a while. Robest bowed a little, then, like
the true hero he was, left . True there was a bell in the background and
that probably meant he was needed, but she still could have used the help, if
it came to a physical confrontation. Jacques had all his people there.
Well, she knew not to really
count on anyone that way. Most people ran away when things got hard. It was how
they survived.
With a sound that seemed more
than a little annoyed with her, the man reached for a book to the side of his
desk. It had a nice leather cover on it, but a loose binding, so that the lines
of twine that held the pages in could be released to add or subtract pages.
Without looking at her again, he opened it, and carefully moved through the
pages until he came to the one he wanted. It was all hand written, but the
words looked tidy and it was in pencil, not ink. That meant it was something he
could make corrections to, at need.
After ignoring her for several
minutes, probably hoping that she'd leave so he could carry on his personal
vendetta against people that dealt in colors for fabrics, he tapped the page.
"The Sorrow could use a good
run. You've only given me half of one here though. That's if you can
really arrange all you just said. What else can you add to sweeten the
deal?" There was a sly look on his face, as if he had something in mind.
Probably thrusting into her behind, or some such. It... Well, she had to do it,
if that was the case, didn't she? There was nothing for it, but to make this
all work. Shutting down her feelings, she nodded, agreeing to whatever it was
he
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