Blood Tempered: Book 1 of the Sword Monk Saga

Blood Tempered: Part 7

Heirus—or Stench, as everyone referred to him—was hiding. As usual. Augin had searched the man's vile quarters, the kitchens and Jaga Khun's empty 'throne room', and had moved on to the unpleasant task of checking the jakes when he heard Korbo calling him.

"Found him yet?"

"You see him?"

"Well he won't be in there. Nothing to drink. Cook saw him dragging something up into the north tower. Go fetch him, Aug. She's awake and wants to see him."

"Cook didn't bother telling me that when I was asking for him in the damn kitchens."

"And why should he? You still owe him three soldi from last week's dice."

Augin shrugged and headed for the north tower.

Ten minutes later he found the hedge mage in the roofless top floor of the tower, leaned up against a tapped hogshead of fine imperial beer, snoring. How the twisted little man had got the thing up the rubble-strewn stairs was a mystery, as was where he'd found such a good brew. Augin grabbed him by his greasy shirtfront and hauled him upright.

"I'll stick yer!" the little man yelled, reaching for the crusty dagger at his belt.

"Later, Stench. She wants you. Now."

"Gurauld take her. And you too, you pile of excrement. Leave me alone."

Augin tossed him back down, wiped his now-greasy hands on his thighs.

"That what you want me to tell her? All right." And he turned to descend the stairs.

"Wait, dog-vomit. Tell her I'll be there presently, to grace her with my presence."

Augin turned back. "You can get moving down the stairs now under your own power, or I can throw you down."

"You dare? I'll turn you into cinders!"

"You can barely turn beer in to piss. Get moving, Stench. She asked for you half an hour ago."

Augin followed the grumbling man down the stairs and all the way to her chambers to make sure he didn't lose his way. He made a mental note to go back and appropriate the cask of beer. It would be good to have something decent to drink when he, Korbo and Mung sat down to talk about getting the hell away from Wyeth, from Jaga Khun's doomed mercenary company, and most especially from that cold blooded bitch of a sorceress. And it would draw Stench to them, eventually. Any plans they made could be aided immeasurably if they could get the smelly little spell-slinger on their side.

Augin Nathi's long-suffering mother had raised a whole brood of fools, truth be told, but none that couldn't sense a storm rolling in. And he sensed one that was going to crush flat anything in its path.