This Red Sky

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sonia stared into her mug of ale. The smoke of the fire in the tavern gathered around the ceiling, making the air thick and heavy. The heat was still unbearable, and the crowded tavern had no fewer flies than the outdoors. Sweat stuck Sonia's thick hair to her head. A crust of bread sat uneaten on the plate beside her.

She looked up at the cracked ceiling. The heat wave did nothing to lessen the nervousness that reigned inside of her. It felt as though Palasotarr would burst into flames before Syralth and her henchmen even got there.

Nakt was having a better time than her, even though sweat was running down his forehead to his crooked nose. He drank deeply of the bitter brown liquid, slamming down his empty mug on the dirty surface and complaining to the barmaid of the heat and of the lack of speed at which his drink was refilled. A red flush had spread across his cheeks. The barmaid didn't seem to mind the young highwayman's abrasiveness. She was in her thirties, a light spattering of freckles over her high cheekbones and an old, patched family sash. She giggled, making eye contact with the thief as she leaned over the bar to pour more ale into his cup.

It took Sonia a minute to realize that the woman was flirting with her friend, and the idea came to her with a jolt. She looked at the young man beside her. Was Nakt handsome? Her eyes took in the cuts and bruises on his face, his wiry arms under leather armour, a roguish grin. She supposed he could be, but she'd never thought of it before.

Sonia felt the weight of a man's hand on her shoulder. Her heart jumped into her mouth, and she spun around on the barstool, expecting to see the black eyes of a cultist looking down on her. But the man's eyes were hazel, his face scarred and tattooed with thin blue lines. His brown hair was braided and sun-bleached. A foreign mercenary, grinning down on her with cracked teeth. Nakt looked warily over his shoulder.

"You pretty girl," the mercenary laughed in a thick accent. "How much you want?"

Sonia's cheeks flushed even redder.

"Leave me alone," she turned back to the bar. The mercenary grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around again.

"I talking to you!" he rumbled, pulling a leather pouch out of his cloak. Sonia heard the jingle of coins inside. "What you cost?"

"Shove it, she's not a whore," Nakt snapped at the taller man, pushing his hand off Sonia's shoulder. The mercenary sneered.

"You jealous?" he gave the thief a shove. The barmaid looked on nervously. "You keep losing fight, you get no woman."

"Hah, I wouldn't have to pay a woman to touch me," Nakt shot back with a dry laugh. "More than can be said for you. Try taking a bath first."

Sonia saw anger flash in the mercenary's eye. Looking over his shoulder, she noticed two more men with similar tattoos sitting at a table and watching the scene at the bar.

"He's not worth it, Nakt," she muttered, taking his arm. "Let's get out of here."

She tried to tug him away from the bar, when the mercenary's callused hand shot out, grabbing the front of her tunic. Sonia swallowed a cry of pain as he yanked her against him. Her nose filled with the smell of sweat and blood.

"I pay you good," he said close to her ear. "You need real man—"

Sonia's hand scrabbled backwards at the bar before he could finish. It found the metal mug behind her. Ale streaked through the air, splashing the nearby patrons as she brought it up to crack against his face. The mercenary's eyebrow split under the blow, blood bursting to the surface. With a grunt of pain, he released her for just a moment.