Page 15 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
His lip curls. “And you need to learn when to shut up, whore.”
Before Marcus can make a move, the drunkard grabs Dru’s leg and yanks her off the horse. She hits the ground hard on her side, breath audibly whooshing out of her chest from the impact. The man maintains his iron grip and drags her across the cobblestone toward the brothel. She kicks at him and grunts breathlessly, but to no avail.
Fury pulses along Marcus’s limbs and fills his chest.I’ll tear him apart.
He dismounts, hurrying after her—when he remembers the bard.
He scowls over his shoulder. “Grab the other horse and make sure they don’t take off. Otherwise, we’ll be ridingyouto Anziano.”
The bard’s eyes widen, and he nods, clicking the inside of his cheek to trot up next to Dru’s horse.I suppose he’s not completely useless.Marcus has no idea if he can trust the bard not to run off with their horses, but he doesn’t have much of a choice.
A moment later, Marcus steps inside the murky brothel, ready to kill the man who took Dru.
Instead, he finds the lout laid out on a table, Dru jabbing her dagger into his throat. Piss runs down the man’s leg onto the sordid floor, his entire bodytrembling.
“I’m no one’s whore,” she seethes, still catching her breath from being yanked off the horse.
He watches her, impressed. He should’ve known she’d have the situation well in hand, but he’s still unsure what this Dru is capable of.
When she presses the knife in further, drawing a bead of blood, Marcus clears his throat. “Best not to kill anyone so close to Durevolian soil. Not when you’re the king’s invited guest.”
She scowls at him over her shoulder, but she must also see the logic in it. Sliding the dull side of her dagger up his jaw, she knicks his earlobe.
He shrieks and throws his hands over his bleeding ear. She releases him, kicking his damp leg before sheathing her dagger. Seeing his opportunity to escape, he rolls off the table onto the floor and crawls out the door.
Dru catches Marcus’s eye—he nods, tamping down how impressed he is.This is definitely not the same woman I left. But there’s a spark of her there, igniting something long forgotten inside him.
“What in the gods’ names—oh, Praetor Marcus.” The owner of this irreputable establishment hurries out of the back room now that the threat has taken itself out. Marcus is unsurprised to find he’d been hiding, like the coward he knows him to be.
“Ignavus.” Marcus crosses his arms over his chest as Dru comes to stand next to him. “Have you not been advised multiple times to close your place of business prior to the sun’s rising?”
The older man trembles, feigning frailty. “I tried to, sir, but they refused to leave. I’m only one man after all.”
“You didn’t tell me you were praetor to the king,” Dru accuses out of the side of her mouth.
He matches her tone. “It didn’t come up organically.” To the owner, he continues, “I’ve seen your books and know you can afford to hire a protettore. I trust this won’t happen again?”
Fear fills the man’s eyes at the threat. Marcus almostfeels sorry for it.Almost.
“No, Praetor Marcus, it won’t.”
Ignavus scurries behind the bar. “You and your companion look like you could use some provisions for your journey.”
Marcus nods and considers thanking him, but knows the man won’t keep his word about hiring protection.
Instead, he takes stock of the brothel. More soot and grime streak the walls and windows than the last time he paid a visit. Ignavus either can’t afford the upkeep or, more likely, pockets the money meant for it. The stench, too, is staggering: a nauseating concoction of sweat, piss, vomit, and sex.
The sooner we leave this place, the better.
Dru bumps his arm with her shoulder. “When were you going to tell me about your high standing in Anziano?”
She cares more about this than he thought she would.
“I knew you’d figure it out once we got there.”
She watches him closely. “Why do I feel like this isn’t the only thing you’re keeping from me?”
I forgot how observant she is.He doesn’t want to lie to her, so he chooses silence.
