Love and Bounty

Chapter Twelve: Galum-Jei

Hrolf's footsteps echoed against the warehouse walls as he weaved his way between shelves in spite of the vigilant gazes of East Empire mercenaries. They eyed him without reprieve, daring him to pluck even the most trivial of wares from the shelves, but trinkets were the last thing on his mind.

What was her problem?

Just as he thought he was making some progress toward being the friend she needed, she pushed back harder and harder. Why was she resisting his attempts at friendship so much? She was miserable—that was plain to see. It just didn't make sense. A night of drinking and light-hearted fun with a friend could've done some good for her, but he wasn't going to argue. She made her stance clear. He should just leave it alone.

Hrolf's shoulders sank. Who was he kidding? Why couldn't he just come out and say it like a man instead of dancing around his interest? The glimmers of Deeja he'd gotten had captured him like no woman had captured him before, but he couldn't be so quick to heed his gut. It could just be the thrill of it that fascinated him, like goading a stag from hiding, except this wasn't a hunt. This was a person, and he didn't enjoy toying with people.

Most people, anyway.

He'd made that mistake enough already during his mad years, when he descended into violent fantasies over what to do to those who destroyed his family—his entire life. Nothing was the same for many years: loot, strong drink, women—nothing. All of it just made him more miserable and served as desperate distractions from his binds and oaths.

Only nights after his home was set ablaze, he swore to kill each and every one of those bounty hunters. He was closer than ever now, but could he afford to chase it?

"Hold there," a dark-haired Nord mercenary uttered, pulling Hrolf from his stormy thoughts. "Who are you here to see?"

"I think his name is Gulum-Ei," Hrolf replied.

"You think?"

Hrolf frowned. A wise guy. Great. "Can I speak to him?"

"And what business do you have with him, exactly?"

"I have something he might want to take a look at. For a friend."

The mercenary cocked his brow. "What something, and what friend?"

Hrolf palmed the bag of stones and plucked one from it. "These. Endarie calls for his skills."

The mercenary narrowed his amber eyes. "Give me one and I'll take you to him."

Hrolf shrugged. There had to be more than thirty in the bag. Surely Jaree-Ra wouldn't know if one was missing. "Sure. Here."

After Hrolf placed the piece in the mercenary's palm, he pocketed it, and no more words were said. True to his word, the mercenary led Hrolf out of the labyrinth of shelves and to a long table stacked with crates and barrels. A dark-scaled Argonian man with straight horns protruding from the back of his head picked at his salmon steak, but his keen eyes fell on the two Nords the instant they walked in.

"Why are you bothering me?" Gulum-Ei asked the mercenary, but his slitted gaze was locked on Hrolf the entire time. "Who is this?"

"He says he's got something for you to look at."

Gulum-Ei narrowed his cold eyes at the mercenary, but his eyes flicked back to Hrolf every other moment, as if daring him to take a step closer. "I have no business with him."

"He mentioned an Endarie, if that means anything."

That did little to make the Argonian waver. "Odd that she hired a Nord this time," he muttered. "Is the other one sick?"