DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [49]
As he passed an alley, he heard a grunt. Stopping, he heard heavy breathing, and the thud of fist against flesh.
Another grunt. “I told you I don’t have it.” Holt’s voice.
Bardon stepped into the alley. In the shadows, he saw a tall o’rant holding a shorter, broader man against the wall.
The squire used the same calm voice he’d used with N’Rae. “Let him go.”
Three thugs emerged from the shadows and fell upon him. Bardon sidestepped one assailant lunging from the right and grabbed the man by a shoulder and wrist. Twisting the attacker’s hand behind his back, Bardon then used the man as a weapon, ramming his body into the brute charging from the left. The third man jumped on Bardon’s back. The squire tucked his head and rolled forward over the man he held, slamming the one on his back against the ground. He let go of the first man, continued his somersault over the body of the other, and sprang to his feet.
One of the men charged him again, but Bardon pivoted, swung a booted foot up, and side-kicked him in the stomach. The second man had regained his feet and came at Bardon, only to be kicked twice, once in the kneecap and once in the face. The squire used an elbow to break one man’s nose and a backward kick to disable another as the ruffian hurled himself at Bardon’s back. The assailants took off, one man helping a badly limping comrade. The o’rant clutching Holt didn’t enter the fray. He dropped the marione and ran.
Bardon watched them go, breathing deeply, but without a mark on him from the fight. He went over and helped Holt to his feet.
“Thanks.” Holt groaned. He held his arms around his middle. Sweat poured down his face even in the chill shade of the alley.
“What did they want?” asked Bardon.
“What do ruffians usually want? Money, I guess.”
“I heard you tell him you didn’t have it. That sounds like an answer to a specific question. I don’t think it’s a good idea to lie to me, Holt.”
“I didn’t lie. I asked a question and then answered it.”
“Prevaricating. That’s lying with finesse. Tell me the truth.”
“The truth is they wanted money.” His face twisted as he swayed and leaned against the building.
“There is still the ‘it,’ implying something specific. You didn’t say, ‘I don’t have any.’ You said, “I don’t have it.’ I’ll ask you one more time to tell me the truth, and if you don’t”—Bardon maintained the cool tone of casual conversation—“I may lose my temper. You hurt now, don’t you, Holt? You’ll hurt more when I’m finished.” He paused and looked over the pale, gasping marione. “Do you feel like hitting the dirt with considerable force again? It might jar those aches you already have.” Bardon shook his head as if he were weighing the possibilities. “I don’t think a shove or two would normally bother you, but I’m not in the mood for a genteel wrestling match. I’m in the mood to hear the truth…Well, it’s your decision.”
Holt’s eyes sizzled with hatred. “All right. I owe a man money. These men work for him.”
“Gambling?”
“Some. But the worst of it was I offered to trade five kindias for what I owed him plus six hundred grood. Then Father decided the kindia were not mine after all. They were to be my payment for traveling to Bintuppi and handling a business transaction. The deal went sour. I had no kindia to deliver, so I left town.”
“You didn’t happen to already have the man’s six hundred grood, did you?”
“Yes. I said I needed the money up front to handle the transportation of the beasts from upriver—the men, the special crates, the boat.”
“And your father wouldn’t help you out with the debt?”
Holt laughed and groaned. “Not again.”
“So you decided to follow N’Rae?”
“It was convenient.”
“And you think it would be convenient to go on a long quest.”
Holt breathed easier now. He stood a little straighter, moving away from the wall that had been supporting him.
“Actually, no. I’m not interested in getting into any dangerous situations, but I wouldn’t mind sailing north. Perhaps I