Free Rise of the Serpent (Serpent's War Book 2) by Jason Halstead Page B

I’m trying to put together a play featuring splisskin. I want it to be genuine, so my audience understands your remarkable people.”
    The walking lizard stared at him for a length of time again. His tongue flicked out, tasting the air. “A play? What is a play?”
    “Oh my,” Namitus said. “There is no easy way to explain this. Imagine children playing, only we’re adults. We pretend to be other people, and in this case other races. We tell a story by acting. That makes us actors.”
    “A story? What story?”
    “Well, in this case it’s the fall of Myskakroth,” Namitus said.
    The snake man’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know of this?”
    Namitus snapped his fingers. “You do know! Bah, they told me. But no, I wouldn’t believe them. Some of them, at least, had to have free hearts and the sense to do what was best for them. Don’t judge an entire people by the actions of a few. That they couldn’t all be like that!”
    The splisskin tasted the air again. “Like what?” he hissed.
    “Working with the Order of the Dragon, of course!” Namitus said.
    The splisskin’s tongue flicked into the air. His scaly cheek drew up, resembling a snarl far more than a grin. “Yes, of course. Come. Come into the village and see what we might have to trade,” he hissed. He paused while he studied the others behind Namitus. “Is this your circus? Your actors?”
    “It is,” Namitus said while urging his horse ahead into what was, he was certain, a trap.
    “All of them?”
    “Why yes. We’re small but very talented. Perhaps we could put on a demonstration for you? Work some entertainment into the bartering price.”
    The splisskin sneered at him again. “Perhaps.”
    Namitus glanced back and saw the others were staring at him. Matching expressions of surprise, shock, and concern were directed his way. Namitus smiled and turned back to see the other splisskin falling in behind them as they rode through the firmer ground of the splisskin village.
    Namitus counted the huts as they rode. They were fashioned from fire-baked mud and clay and thatched with the tall grasses of the plains. Animal hides hung in the doorways of some of the huts, where others had wood and thatch doors. He’d counted half a dozen before they came to a larger round hut with two doors in it.
    “In here,” the splisskin gestured. “Come, look at our things.”
    Namitus turned to Amra. “Wait here,” he whispered before he slid off the horse and landed on the ground.
    Amra grabbed his shoulder as he started to turn. “No!” she hissed. She glanced around. “You can’t leave me out here.”
    Namitus pressed his lips together.
    “Come. All come,” the speaker for the splisskin said again. “Test our things, make sure they fit.”
    Namitus let out his breath in a controlled sigh. He smiled and turned. “Of course! No sense in getting something we can’t use.”
    “Nam—”
    Namitus waved to Corian, stopping him from speaking. “Come, Lythian, I’m sure they’ll have something to fit your scrawny hide.”
    Corian started and scowled back at him. He slid off his horse and grabbed his belt, adjusting it and loosening his knife in its sheathe. The elf turned to take his sister’s hand and help her dismount before moving after Allisandra and Gor and joining them.
    Namitus offered his hand to Amra. “You get your wish, fair maiden,” he said while staring at her with what he hoped was a stern gaze.
    She smiled back and dropped off the horse to stand beside him. She offered a curtsy and followed him into the gloomy hut.
    “Can’t see a damn thing,” Gor muttered as they filed into the dark hut. The only light filtered in through the two doors they’d seen and a third on the far side of the round hut.
    The figure of the splisskin chieftain stood ahead of them and gestured at some chests gathered around a pole in the middle of the room. He watched them enter while pointing at the chests, waiting until the last one cleared the