I feel a shadow pass over me and turn my head to see a latecomer to the commotion. It’s a tall, rugged looking man with half his head shaved and an entire arm inked with tattoos which I have an unobstructed view to because he is completely shirtless.
He towers over me, all toned muscles and golden hair.
He gasps, clearly not having a tough time seeing over the crowd. “By the gods,” he breathes.
“What is it?” I find myself asking.
I’m not actually asking him specifically, but he glances at me out of the corner of his eye and raises a brow as he takes me in “I’d offer to let you climb on my shoulders to see, but I’m afraid it’s not a pretty sight.”
I clamp my teeth together and press into the crowd. I shove aside an old man dressed in an orange robe and a shocked looking woman with her brown hair hanging loosely around her shoulders. Until I finally get a look at the scene before me.
It’s a man, and he’s dead. He’s a human wearing a uniform with an insignia of a guard. His eyes are wide and staring blankly at the ceiling until the younger man, who I presume to be the innkeeper’s son, leans forward and closes them.
The dead guard is lying in a puddle of his own blood. The copious amounts of blood seem to stem from several stab marks that have torn through his tunic and his flesh beneath. Whoever did this was sloppy, the stab wounds are uneven and there are far too many of them.
I count at least fourteen.
A skilled killer could have ended him with only a single thrust.
But skilled or not, it is obvious that there is a killer here with the rest of us. And it isn’t me.
Chapter Six
Victor
The sun is almost blinding as it reflects the greenish blue water of the sea. It’s a calm day, not a lot of wind. We will need to use the oars today to get the ship rowing.
I turn my attention to the vessel in question and find myself frowning. I hate traveling out to sea. I much prefer to have the steady solid ground under my boots than the rocking and swaying boards of a ship.
Yet here I am, ready to transport more prisoners to the Spice Isles. It’s not a short voyage to reach the nearest islands off our western coast where the most notorious of prisoners are kept.
I hate transferring them. It’s a dangerous business to deal with those who have escaped the death sentence but have still been exiled to work in the Spice Isles.
Petty thieves get jail time and have to pay a fine. The vilest killers are put to death. Sorcerers are put to death. Everyone a step below them are sent to the Spice Isles.
I’m dealing with bandits, manslaughterers, and ruffians day to day, and if anything were to happen on board the ship, I’m not sure if I’d like the outcome.
Oh, Estelle… the things I do for you.
If she wants a man who is widely traveled and full of adventure, then that is what she shall have.
I just hope that I live long enough to get home to sweep her off her feet with the grand stories I’ll soon be able to tell.
There’s a dead body in our wine cellar, and I have a pounding headache.
Likho isn’t happy that someone died suddenly and violently, and I had nothing to do with it. As his vessel, I should be dropping bodies left and right to remind the world who he is the patron of.
“At least you assume it wasn’t you…”
I freeze at that thought, pressing my fingers against the wood of the bar top.
What do you mean, Likho?I demand silently.
“I only mean that you were asleep, you do not know what I made you do while you were in such a state.”
Likho’s chuckle echoes through my skull, and I have to force myself to keep my breathing even. He is lying, simply trying to get at me for not being the perfect host he wants me to be. Likho couldn’t make me kill someone without realizing it… could he?
“I can do whatever I want.”
