Free The Queen of Thieves: The Line of Kings Trilogy Book Three by Craig R. Saunders, Craig Saunders Page B

turned and set forth at a steady
pace yet again.
                He was rough,
bearded, scarred...but it was a good smile.
                She followed Asram's
lead, and together they concentrated in putting miles between themselves and
the death they left behind. All the while, they headed closer to their goal.
     
    *

 
    Chapter
Twenty-Four
     
    Two days later Asram knelt at the
edge of the Fresh Woods. A hard man, hiding in the long grass. It might have
been that another man was scared, but not Asram. His bow string was drawn tight
against his cheek. He took no chances. At the first sight of trouble he was
well prepared to loose the arrow unerringly at his mark.
                He looked out over
the road and the cleared ground surrounding The Pickled Hare tavern, and as his
eyes moved, so did the bow.
                He searched the land
for threats as the suns went down. Dow, the smaller of Rythe's two suns, had
long ago sunk below the horizon. A little light still remained from Carious,
the larger sun. Asram did not like to approach new ground in the dark. He did
not like the dark. His eyes were not as effective, and his eyes were a better
weapon than his bow. Seeing threats before they arose was half the battle that
was staying alive in his line of work.
                Rena knelt behind
him, quieting Tarn, who looked about ready to squall after a day in the sling
being jounced and jostled across the rough terrain in the freezing cold.
                But there were no threats.
Not this time.
                Asram slung his
curved bow upon his back, stored his arrow, and held out an arm to Rena, which
she took. Her protector pulled her up from the ground, where she knelt beside
him. Together they walked up the road in the last light of the day to the
tavern.
                Asram knew better
than to expect a warm welcome. He was aware of just how precious his travelling
companions were, and how much danger they were in. And now, bidden by the Queen
of Thieves herself, they were to meet a man who, by her own admission, was a
deadly ally - possibly deadly to their enemies, but also to them.
                'Come, Rena. Let's
meet this man.'
                The tavern itself was
a mean thing, ill-repaired and tumbledown from the outside. They did not expect
much as they pushed open the door to the Pickled Hare and entered into the
gloomy, firelit tavern.
                They were pleasantly
surprised, though, because the tavern was far more welcoming inside than out. The
fire in the hearth was stacked high with split logs, crackling and hazy with heat.
Two older men, no doubt from the nearby village, nodded before the fire, well
in their cups. There were a few other patrons, but not enough to give Asram and
Rena pause. People looked at them as they entered, then looked away,
disinterested.
                It was, by and large,
the same as taverns across the land of Sturma that Asram had frequented, but
for slight differences. In the countryside, being ignored was almost a warm
welcome.
                For a split second,
Asram contemplated slaking his thirst, but he knew if he began drinking he
wouldn't stop. If he drank, he'd drink it until it was all gone, or he could no
longer move a cup to his lips. He knew himself well enough. It was how he ended
up here, in a country tavern, with the would-be Queen and the last of the line
of kings in his care.
                Gods, how did he go
from a murdering drunken gambler to the sole hope of the nation?
                He could have laughed
at it, but he need his wits, not a drink. And he didn't do that anymore,
anyway. He had a purpose now.
                His sole purpose, his
only reason for being alive - protecting Rena and the child.
                He heard footfalls on
the stairs, and turned, hand resting easily on the hilt of his