Making Work for the Militia
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Here we are then. Spines and claws, boy, don't just stand there! Take some coin and find out how long we're to be waiting. Talk to the spearmen, talk to the folk inside, I don't care.

I don't know why Harand has us paying precious coin to the Magisters for this moon-faced fool. As though he was Lord of the Docks ransoming his own! I don't see him throwing so much as a lead coin from Three Stones after any of our heads; we'd be rotting in the Prison Hulks, mark my words. You heard about the Taxmen at the safehouse last season? Laugh as you will, but that was this one's doing. He may have muscle enough for any three of you, but he's bad luck, sure as a coin stolen from Salin.

Hah! That's like as not; myself, I'll wager the fool's mother has a pretty face and willing ways - and that Harand knows more than most about that.

Half a broiled crawcrab could have done the job! Rough up that red-painted blade from the Wayward Visitor; a little payback for Deval's friend. Can't be letting those eels up the hillside carry on like Lords and Ladies. I explained it all carefully and slowly, told him what to do, pointed out the mark - I may as well have pulled his arm back for the first blow. What does he do? Only runs the blade all the way past the old wall and through the door of the Silvered Horn, that's all. Those militia eels should have speared him and hung him over the fire pit! Blood!

[ Posted by Reason on March 8, 2005 ]