Queen of the North (Book 3) (Songs of the Scorpion) by James A. West Read Free Book Online

face screwed up in concentration. “Morning before last, I saw a few strangers. I’d judge they’re too stupid to be dangerous.”
    Rathe was not so sure. King Nabar had put quite the reward on his head, and that much gold would tempt all manner of bounty hunters. “What did they look like?”
    “Outlanders from the south, like most outlanders hereabouts. I’d guess they’re merchants.”
    “Why?”
    “They’re too well-fed, and their clothes are too fine, to be otherwise,” Stiny said, casting a pointed glance at Rathe’s garb.
    Rathe had seen many mercenaries and men who earned their way collecting bounties. These strangers didn’t sound the sort. Likely, Stiny had the way of it.
    “So, you haven’t seen anything else I should know about?”
    “You mean to say shadows ?” Stiny asked, a hint of a smile turning his lips.
    “ Strange shadows, boy, those shaped like men, but when you look at them, they vanish.” Fear hones a man to his sharpest. That was something the mysterious swordsman had said once, and Rathe believed it. But at Ravenhold, it was he who had put fear into the Shadowman’s heart. From what little he had gathered of the man’s ways, Rathe suspected the fellow hadn’t enjoyed the reversal. In time, he would come again.
    “Shadows shaped like men?” Stiny offered another lopsided shrug. “Ain’t seen nothin’ like that. An’ the only strangers in Iceford besides merchants are you, your friends, an’ a few sailors off that accursed ship.”
    The Lamprey had gotten a reputation for bad luck around Iceford, but Rathe was sure Captain Ostre’s troubles had nothing to do with luck, good or ill.
    Rathe rummaged through his purse until he found a silver coin. It was ten times the amount he usually paid Stiny and his friends, but theirs was necessary work that he greatly valued. He held it out, and Stiny wrapped his grimy fingers around the coin with a comical look of awe.
    “You’ve done well,” Rathe said.
    “For this much, I s’pose I could find a man or three who’d poke a knife into any shadow that troubles you.”
    Rathe went still, mind working. It took less than three heartbeats to decide how best to keep Stiny from doing something that might get his throat slit.
    “Keep the coin for yourself, boy, for there’s no more coming. Forget about shadows, forget about me. You’ve done all I asked, and our arrangement is finished.”
    With a final shrug, Stiny collected his dung bucket and headed toward the tannery. Looking after him, Rathe shouted, “If you see a shadow, especially one that looks like a man, you run.”
    Stiny turned a little, waved a dismissive hand. “Shadows are everywhere,” he said, grinning wryly. “I’ve one, an’ so do you. Every man casts a shadow. To run from them all would make for a pair of awful tired legs.”
    Rathe found himself hoping Nesaea was right about the craftiness of such children. After the boy disappeared into the tannery, Rathe made his way back through Iceford, hurrying to another appointment.

Chapter 4
     
     
     
    Master Abyk, renowned as the finest tailor in Iceford, and a better than average armorer in a former life, used his hand to slash a few errant white hairs back from his wrinkled brow and gave his handiwork a critical glare.
    Rathe had never been knowledgeable of fashion, but in his estimation, the garb Loro wore had looked better before he stretched it over his girth.
    “We must start over,” Abyk said after a long consideration, and reached for a measuring string tucked into a pocket of his woolen vest.
    Looking put out, Loro fingered one of six straining buckles on his new jerkin, the front and back of which were covered in burnished steel scales. Rathe decided it was best not to tell his companion that he resembled a gleaming, overfed trout.
    “What did you do wrong?” Loro asked.
    At Abyk’s pained look, Rathe spread his hands in sympathy. He was more than satisfied with his own clothing. It was not nearly as