Read Online The Queen of Lies by Michael J. Bode - Free Book Online Page A

‘friends’ in the tower are covering expenses, right?”
    “Classy.” Heath chuckled as he stepped forward and pushed his way inside. “Just keep your hands to yourself unless there’s trouble.”
    The main room of the Longhouse had been done up to resemble a warmaster’s pavilion; maps with battle plans hung on the walls beside battered shields and an arsenal of melee weapons. The blades weren’t just decorative; most of them looked like they’d seen combat. A couple of female Fodders reclined on cushioned benches in skimpy leather styled after Rivern battalion uniform.
    A one-eyed Fodder with a full blond beard and intricately tattooed arms stood guard by the door. He wore a black leather jerkin, and two longswords hung on his belt. “Brother”—the man nodded to Sword—“looking for work or action?” That’s what Sword would look like in ten years, if he could keep his current body alive that long.
    “Information,” Heath said.
    “Talk to Red. She’s in back through the door on the left.” The Fodder didn’t even attempt to look like he gave a shit.
    Sword halfheartedly saluted the bouncer as he followed Heath to the back. Under his breath he muttered, “What kind of asshole uses two longswords? A longsword isn’t an offhand weapon. Frankly I find it offensive.”
    “Remind me what kind of sword you are again.” Heath grinned.
    “Technically…the term ‘bastard sword’ comes from my impressively large hilt, which allows me to be held with one or two hands,” Sword said hastily. “It’s no reflection on my character.”
    Heath reached the door and knocked a couple times. “You’re the biggest bastard I’ve ever met. Technically.”
    “Well, you’re…the stupidest person I’ve ever met.” Sword grumbled and thumped the side of his head. “Except for this meat suit. You couldn’t put me in someone smarter? This tiny brain is killing my witty repartee.”
    The door flung open. A statuesque Patrean woman in her late forties stood majestically at the door, her posture straight as an arrow. There was no question, based on the red leather armor or the crimson dye in her hair, as to her identity. “I’m Red, commander of this establishment. Welcome to the Twin Shields.” She saluted them formally. “What are you gentlemen in the mood for?”
    “Information.” Heath didn’t bother playing his usual “Orthodoxy business” angle. Most Fodders weren’t religious, and the ones who had served in the Hierocracy didn’t remember their assignments fondly. The priests preferred spending the coin to pay death gratuities for fallen soldiers to spending their Light to heal the unfaithful.
    “I could also use a whore,” Sword said.
    “It’s the same rate whether you want to talk or fuck,” Red said matter-of-factly. “Twenty ducats an hour, one hour minimum. More if you want to play rough. I’ve got green cadets, seasoned warriors, drill sergeants if you like to take orders, and a couple of night wrestlers if you like to take it up the ass.”
    “Night wrestlers are what they call their queers,” Sword whispered to Heath. “They have special training at night in hand-to-hand where the blokes can blow off steam.”
    Heath sighed and pulled out the parchment, which he handed to Red. “I understand this man was seen near your establishment the night one of your customers died in his sleep. I’d like to talk to whomever may have spoken to him and to whomever was with the client that night.”
    “Really?” Red asked defensively. “The guard and the creepers already took statements.”
    “I’m a concerned citizen.”
    “I know who you are, dark-skinned one,” Red said. “The rumors say you’re a spice merchant with black-market connections. You live in the Inlet District, so I doubt you’re that concerned.”
    “I came up on these boardwalks with Cordovis.”
    “I heard that too.” She smiled. “You two had a falling out?”
    “A lot of people are under the mistaken