The man with beady eyes watched as the blonde-haired bastard exited the house and fled down the path. Bile rose as he watched, and he spat quietly into the bush beside him. For days he had been watching the residents of the house, observing their every move. He saw what paths they used, where they went, and what time they did everything. And carefully, ever so carefully, he had laid his trap.
Now, he just had to place the bait.
Skirting the open field, he cut through the woods to stumble onto the path and up to the door. He pounded on it.
"Just a minute!" he heard a voice call. He recognized it as the woman's. He growled in annoyance, which only made his throat hurt. He started to cough, even though each wheeze felt like another knife cut. He cursed the Tel'mak again, beetles eat their eyes! The door swung open, revealing a healer's hut.
"Can I help you?" the bitch asked. He pushed inside.
"Healer," he croaked. She frowned and then shrugged, stepping away to retrieve her father no doubt. Even to the man's eyes, she glowed with that special warmth only a woman who had just had her first time had. It made him want to retch. He knew all about her first time; after all, he had witnessed it. Just remembering the blonde bastard rutting with this fat bitch flooded his mouth with bile and made him gag. But soon it would be done.
It would be worth it.
"What's th' problem?" He looked over at the grizzled, old geezer who glared at him with irritation.
"Throat," he whispered gravelly. He peeled his shirt down to show off his wound. The bitch flinched; the geezer didn't. A putrid smell rose from his neck, and he gritted his teeth against the nausea that assailed him.
"Looks like yer throat was slashed," the geezer grunted. "First aid poultice?" The man nodded as best he could.
"Bandits," he ground out. The geezer snorted.
"Calliena!" the old man called. The bitch started, her fat tits jiggling. The man stared at them. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to rut with her.
"I need herbs for healing, a binding agent, and powdered crystal." She nodded and moved away to a far table, picking up a large knife and mincing with it. Out of earshot.
Now was his chance.
"I passed a blonde man on the way here," he whispered. The geezer grunted in acknowledgement. "Is he an . . . assistant of yours?"
The geezer snorted. "Unlikely."
"Then I ask you to caution yourself," he hissed. "He is not to be trusted. I've met him before." The geezer froze.
"Met how?" he asked cautiously.
"His brother is the one who did this to me," the man spat, gesturing to his neck. The geezer swallowed hard. A drip of cold triumph pooled in the man's stomach. He had him.
"There's more," he said in a conspiratorial voice. The geezer eased in to listen. "I recognized him, which is why I waited till he left to seek healing from you and to warn you. I saw him blast this huge stone behind your house with some lightning. Damaged it pretty good, but it looked like he didn't even break a sweat casting such powerful magic. I'm sure he could've obliterated the whole thing if he wanted to. You and your daughter wouldn't stand a chance." He glanced into the geezer's eyes, eagerly hoping to see panic and terror there. To his surprise, there was only white-hot anger.
"Yer sure?" the geezer snarled. The man nodded and crossed his heart with a six-point star in the traditional pledge.
"Dad?" The bitch was back, holding a poultice wrap that smelled much more pleasant than the one the man currently held. The geezer snatched it, which made her stare hard at him and then the man. The geezer roughly peeled away the old slop and doused the wound with a wet, warm cloth.
"Rotten, gods-cursed, . . . ," the man heard him ground out under his breath. The man's lips twitched into a cold smile.
The bait was set.
YOU ARE READING
The War God's Wife
RomanceShe has no desire for marriage. Calliena has her hands full being the assistant in her father's clinic and keeping them afloat. Not that she hasn't had her fair share of suitors; she just never had any interest in boys looking for a pretty face or...
