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

the tailor and heading for the door. “Come along, Rathe, unless you want to hear more of this wrinkled bastard’s tripe.”
    After retrieving his earnings off the floor, Abyk straightened. “If you want miracles,” he called after Loro, “then speak to the gods. Otherwise, find a curtain to wrap yourself in—better yet, a tapestry!”
    “Piss on you, your gods, and your drapery!” Loro slammed open the shop door and strode out.
    “You must overlook his manners,” Rathe said. “Loro doesn’t look it, but he’s sensitive .”
    Abyk folded his arms across his chest and answered with a disparaging grunt.
    Outside, the sun had dropped behind the rooftops, and the air was growing chillier by the moment. With most of the day’s chores ended, the villagers had retired to their homes to prepare supper. Rathe’s belly growled at the scents of roasting meat and baking bread. Alert as always for any indication of trouble, he was able to ignore his hunger.
    Loro had no such mastery, and he made straight for an open-sided tent set up on the stoop of a butcher’s shop. “Master Kato!” he bawled.
    Kato the butcher, caught in the final acts of packing up for the evening, glanced up from a huge cast iron brazier. A lonely haunch of roasted meat hung from a spit over the brazier’s ruddy coals.
    “My friends!” the man called, offering Rathe and Loro a toothy grin. He was a huge man, easily twice Loro’s girth and several hands taller, with a mane of greasy brown hair that fell well below his sloping shoulders. “I feared you’d sailed without saying farewell.”
    “Never think it, Kato,” Loro admonished, eyeing the spitted meat. “You’re the only merchant in this blasted town I enjoy seeing.”
    Kato eyed Rathe and Loro’s new clothes. “You went to see Abyk, didn’t you, even after I warned you against it?”
    “Aye,” Loro said ruefully.
    “Ah, well, he’s the best tailor in Iceford, so what choice did you have?” Kato put on a broader grin than before. “Here, I’ve something special for you.” He took hold of a cleaver roughly the size of a battle-axe, and began sawing the haunch of spitted meat.
    “What is it?” Loro asked, an eager gleam in his eyes.
    “Bear seared in a blackberry glaze,” Kato said, thrusting the dripping meat into Loro’s waiting hand.
    Loro took a bite, and his eyes widened in ecstasy. “Food fit for gods! Have some, Rathe.”
    Seeing the clotted purple smears on Loro’s chin, Rathe declined. “Alas,” he said to Kato, who had already hacked off another chunk of meat, “I’ve already eaten.”
    Kato’s grin never faltered. “I’ll wrap it for you,” he said, slapping the meat onto a square of cheesecloth. “’Tis just as tasty when cold.”
    While Loro gobbled his food, Rathe fished a few coppers from his coin purse, and dropped them into Kato’s waiting hand.
    “I’ll take that,” Loro said, snatching the packet of meat from the vendor.
    “Just so!” Kato said, chuckling. “Just so! Be sure to come back on the morrow for my frost leopard stew.”
    Loro made his promises, and they left a whistling Kato to his tasks.
    As they walked along the quiet street, Loro licked his fingers clean. “Much as I appreciate Kato’s skill, I hope to find that Captain Ostre has his ship in order. I was ready to sail from Iceford a week ago. Too cold in these parts for our southern blood.”
    “It is at that,” Rathe agreed.
    As twilight deepened, Loro weighed the packet of meat in his hand, then unwrapped it. What was to have been Rathe’s meal vanished down his gullet in a few large bites. “Where do you think Nesaea’s sister is?” Loro asked, tossing a greasy bit of fat to a slat-ribbed dog nosing about a midden heap. The dog wolfed it down, then growled at him. In answer, Loro cocked his leg and broke wind, sending the mangy beast running down the alley.
    “Seems best to head to Sazukford,” Rathe said, thinking of the last place Nesaea’s half-sister had