Page 393 of Hunters and Prey

Chapter 14

The tavern was ten miles from my farm, so about a three-hour walk. And if my stomach hadn’t been ready to eat itself, and if my throat didn’t feel like it was coated in sawdust, I’d have insisted we continue on our journey. But when Vesper suggested we stop for a bite to eat and drink, I practically leapt at the idea.

The Boar and Ram sat squat and proud surrounded by barren, thirsty land. Helgi and I had been here once, when we’d saved the boy from the crazy gang who lived on the outskirts of the Wilds. We’d stopped to refuel and catch our breath, and the owner, having heard our story, had been kind enough to feed us all for free. He’d even offered us a bed for the night, but we’d declined, eager to get the boy home and collect our bounty.

I doubted the kindly owner would offer such generosity to a hulking male and a hulking female, no child in tow.

“Wait.” I grabbed Vesper’s arm. “Do you have any coin?”

He blinked at me as if it was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. “Lords do not carry coin.”

Oh, man. I ran a hand over my face. “Look, this is the Outlands. No coin means no food or drink.”

He frowned and rubbed his forehead with an index finger. “Of course. Right. So, what do we do? Even mighty Dreki need sustenance, among ... other things.” His gaze slid to the left, coming to rest on a curvaceous barmaid wiping the outside tables.

Oh, man. He had to be kidding me.

He caught my eye roll and his jaw tightened. “Unless you’re willing to oblige and scratch that itch?”

“No, thanks.” I shook my head. “Are all Dreki this oversexed?”

He snorted. “Being locked in a chamber for two weeks with only Wyverns for company takes a toll, and last night’s nook sleeping arrangements didn’t help.” He shot me an annoyed look. “Has anyone told you that you wriggle way too much in your sleep?”

“You seemed to cope well enough if your snoring was anything to go by.”

“I have excellent impulse control, unlike my brother, Dante.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. “If I fucked you, I’d be stuck with you mooning around after me begging for me, and I don’t like you enough for a repeat performance.”

“If anyone would be mooning about, it’d be you.”

His eyes lit up at the challenge, and I tore my gaze away, not wanting to play anymore. “We’re wasting time.”

“Right. In the absence of a warm cunny, I’ll take a hot meal and a cold beverage.”

Damn, he reminded me of Helgi in that moment, and a wave of nostalgia, sharp and sweet, washed over me. Helgi wouldn’t admit defeat. She’d find a way to get us fed. A lie, a scam—those were her forte, the silver-tongued devil. And I’d been with her long enough to pick up some tips.

I scanned the area, gaze snagging on several bales of hay. “I think I have an idea.”

Ten minutes later, we were seated at a corner table with a jug of ale and half a loaf of bread. The cook was roasting up a chicken, but in the meantime, they’d brought out some cheese and grapes for the heavily pregnant Skin female who’d been rescued by her husband from a band of reprobates who’d hijacked their cart and stolen the clay pots they’d been off to market to sell.

Phew, what a tale.

I’d smeared my face with grime to disguise myself, but I needn’t have bothered—the guy who’d owned the tavern wasn’t here. Instead, a young man in his late twenties was running the show. Possibly a relative, maybe a new buyer… who cared, we were getting fed.

Across the table from me, Vesper stuffed food into his face as if he was the one carrying the fake child.

I tapped my clay mug on the table to get his attention. “Slow down. I’m the pregnant one, remember?”

He held out a hunk of bread. “Then eat, sweet wife. Eat, so our child grows fat and healthy in your belly.” He said the words slightly louder than needed, drawing several pairs of eyes.

I plucked the bread from his fingers and ate it slowly. The ale was frothy and fresh with a citrus bite that lingered on my tongue. The chicken arrived and Vesper tore off a leg and held it out to me. We ate in silence, aware of the eyes on us—the strangers enjoying the kindness of the host. Free food and ale were in short supply in the Outlands. So, yeah, despite my obvious with-child condition, there were some disgusted looks thrown our way and some sharp gazes laced with jealousy.

Should have known it was too good to last. Because halfway through our meal, a young woman walked up to us flanked by two burly guys.

“Nice axe,” she said. “Don’t you find it hurts your back carrying that and your baby?”

Vesper swallowed his food. “My wife is a strong woman, a warrior.”

The man hawked and spat on the ground. “Either that or you’re a weak man. Look at you, stuffing your face while your poor wife gets the scraps. Making her carry your fucking weapons. What kind of arsehole are you?”

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