Page 27 of The Warrior's Oath
“Currency. We may not always have access to the network.”
“Very well.”
The items were cleared from the table, replaced by a stack of currency chits of some sort. Nyota didn’t know how the Dotharian conglomerate money worked, but she had the sneaking suspicion this was alotof money.
Korvin watched as the pile was counted out. “Do you have a pouch? I am without my usual attire.”
“Of course,” the alien replied, sliding the stack into a small pouch that seemed to shift in shape to accommodate the amount. The quaestor then slid it forward. A moment later the light shifted back across it, leaving it on the customer side.
“Thank you,” Korvin said, pocketing the money.
“Is that it?” Nyota asked.
“That is it. Come,” he said, heading to the door.
“Where now?”
“First, we acquire clean attire. Then food and accommodation.”
“Works for me. I’d kill for a hot bath.”
He shot her a concerned look.
“Figure of speech, big guy.”
An exasperated glare and accompanying sigh were all she got in reply.
They walked out into the street and made their way to another shop conveniently nearby. The clothing there was expensive, apparently, but with nothing to base her spending on, Nyota had no clue just how much her attire really was. Korvin didn’t seem to care one way or another, casually pulling currency from his pouch and paying for the few outfits each had chosen.
Hers were all long-sleeved and had been tried on in the privacy of a changing area away from prying eyes. Sans tattoos and runes she would stand out like a sore thumb had she opted for anything even remotely revealing. At least with most people’s runes ending at their wrists rather than their hands, she did not require gloves.
Korvin had selected plain but well-fitting clothing that hung perfectly on his rugged frame. Each only had a few changes of clothes, but it was enough to start.
“Now lodging and food,” he said as they stepped out onto the street. “It has been a long day.”
“About to get longer,” a gruff voice said from the shadows.
Korvin put his arm across Nyota’s chest and physically pushed her behind him, placing his mass between her and the owner of that threat. Or owners, as she soon saw.
A dozen men, all rough and large, spread out from where they had been lying in wait. A few looked familiar. The men from the tavern, she thought. They had followed them from the currency exchange, waiting for an opportunity. And on this smaller street, one had just presented itself.
“Your currency. Give it to us,” the apparent leader of the group said.
Korvin made no move to comply. “I must decline.”
“What did you say?”
“I mean you no disrespect, but we have need of it ourselves. Clearly, you gentlemen have coin of your own,” Korvin said, gesturing to the man’s healthy belly. “You do not lack food, and you are clothed. So, I beg you, please step aside and we will be on our way.”
“Youbegme?” the man growled. “Oh, you’ll be begging me, all right.”
Korvin raised his empty hands in front of him “Please, I do not wish for any trouble.”
“Too late for that,” the man said, lunging for him.
Nyota had no idea what happened, it was all over so quickly. One minute the burly man was charging at Korvin, the next he lay unconscious on the ground at his feet. If not for the slight flapping of his clothing, it almost appeared as if Korvin had not moved an inch.
The other men let out exclamations of confusion. Confusion and growing anger.
