Prince of Lies - James Lowder [45]
The elf nodded, crunching the beetle. A smile stretched across his narrow face as he held the bowl out to the scribe. "I only take 'em from the graves of the bright blokes I dig up. The way I figure it, if they eat the brains of the stiffs, and then I eat 'em-"
"No," Rinda snapped, holding a hand out to ward off the bowlful of beetles. She moved to a neat pile of clothes on the floor and grabbed two tunics she'd taken from the rubbish heap outside a Zhentilar garrison. "Hodur, I need you to take these over to an old man outside the Serpent's Eye. He'll freeze to death if he doesn't put something between him and the wind."
"Later," the dwarf replied. "We need to talk."
"Talk," she scoffed. "You have dicing to do, you mean. Look, it won't take very long. And I'm sure Ivlisar would be happy to go for a walk with you." She gave the elf a stern look. "Don't give the old man anything to drink. If I find out you did, you're not welcome here again."
"A bit of the blue ruin never hurt nobody," Ivlisar said defensively. '"Sides, Hodur isn't pulling your leg. We're set to have a bit of a parley, dear lady."
"Ilmater give me strength," Rinda hissed. She tucked the clothes under her arm and headed for the door to the back room. "Fine, then. I'll go myself. Did you put those spare gloves back here?"
Panicked, Hodur leaped to his feet. "Rin, wait! There's-"
Rinda couldn't hold back her gasp of surprise when she saw what lay beyond the door.
An orc in leather Zhentilar armor lounged on her bed, his muddy feet propped on her pillow. He turned his gray-green face to the scribe and wrinkled his piggish snout disdainfully. Another man, clad in stylish clothes and a rich, double-lined cloak stood before the chest where Rinda kept her few belongings. In his hands was her most treasured possession – a globe of enchanted glass. Locked within the glass was a panoramic view of a lovely, verdant hillside in the Moonshaes.
"Get out!" she roared. "Now!"
The shouted command startled the orc enough for him to roll to his feet. The other man turned slowly to Rinda then held out the glass globe to her. "These are quite rare," he said. "And quite beautiful. Your taste is to be applauded."
"Quite a compliment coming from you, Lord Fzoul," Rinda said coldly, recognizing the man at last.
When Rinda didn't take the globe, the red-haired man gently replaced it in the chest then bowed formally. "My reputation precedes me," he said archly, "and from the tone of your voice, it has not presented my best face."
"You got more'n one?" the orc grunted. He shrugged and turned to Rinda. "This her? She don't look like much."
Fzoul rolled his eyes. "As you will find, Rinda, General Vrakk prides himself on being blunt. It might appear that he is quite stupid, but don't let him fool you."
"Me get commendation from King Ak-soon himself for fighting Horde," Vrakk crowed. He slapped his broad chest and grinned, an act that made the sizable incisors jutting from his lower lip almost touch his snout. "Big hero in crusade."
"If you two are here to arrest me," Rinda said, "get it over with. If not, get out. I won't have soldiers or Zhentarim scum – no matter how well-mannered – in my home."
A large hand pressed against Rinda's back. They're here to help, Rin," Hodur murmured solemnly. "We all are."
"Help what?" the scribe said. "Ruin my reputation with the neighbors? Their kind isn't well liked around here, you know." She crumpled the tunics into a tight ball.
Fzoul stepped gracefully around Vrakk. "I assure you, Rinda. No one saw us enter. No one will see us leave."
She took a step back from Fzoul, bulling Hodur out of the way. "What about the church watchdog across the street-or did you miss him? Or maybe he's one of your lackeys…"
"Hardly," Fzoul said. He paced Rinda carefully, keeping close to her as she backed across the room. He took his eyes off the scribe once, and then only to nod to Ivlisar. "I'm afraid we can't let you leave just yet," the Zhentarim agent noted as she got close to the door.
Glancing over her shoulder, Rinda found