Free Crimson Spear (Blood and Sand Book 1) by Jon Kiln

completely hidden before making a gentle coughing noise.
    “Hudcha…what!?” Leobar coughed and sneezed, waking from his snoring sleep to look around the room. Outside, the scraggy cat yowled at the commotion, and Leobar growled in annoyance. “I said, shut up!” he grumbled loudly, reaching for the half cup of wine and drinking it angrily, downing it all in one big gulp.
    He fell asleep in a matter of seconds, never to wake up again, and Vekal had killed his first man as a Sin Eater.

11
    “I can understand why the Sin Eaters have such a bad reputation,” Vekal said heavily, coming out of his reverie.
    “Then you will also know that your testimony probably won’t be welcomed at Fuldoon,” Suriyen said. “They will think that you are a traitor, or working for Dal Grehb, or there to bring misfortune to the port.”
    Vekal shrugged. What does it matter to a dead man walking what the living think?
    “And so I will go with you to the Council,” Suriyen said. “And I will speak on your behalf.”
    Vekal blinked, uncertain of what he had just heard. He had no greater plans than to run away from the death-charge of the Menaali, to flee as far as he could until he could figure out what hold Ikrit had inside of him… He certainly had no intention of provoking a war between two city-states.
    “I—I thank you, but do you not have this caravan to scout or guard?” Vekal stammered. “And either way, I thank you for all of your help, I truly do, but this Council will believe you far more than they would me.”
    “No. The Council will need proof. And you, Sin Eater, leagues away from your holy city and bearing the wounds that you do, will be proof enough.” Suriyen was adamant.
    Vekal shook his head. “But what about the other refugees from Tir? The citizens and guards? They can act as witnesses to your Council.”
    “What refugees, Sin Eater?” Suriyen said, coldly.
    “The refugees,” he repeated. “The ones who fled Tir before I did. They must have come this way.”
    There was a long pause of silence, before Suriyen said carefully, “There have been no travelers coming this way aside from us, Sin Eater. If your refugees came this way, then the Menaali must have hunted them down, or else the Ghouls got them.”
    Vekal shuddered. How many had escaped the city of Tir before it had fallen? Had they all been dragged down to the deeps by the Ghoulish men and women?
    “I’m sorry. I know that these were your people,” Suriyen said.
    My adopted people, Vekal thought, but didn’t say anything.
    “Look, Sin Eater, you know my name. You will have to give me something else to call you soon enough,” Suriyen said grumpily.
    “Vekal. Vekal Morson,” he murmured.
    “Then pleased to meet you, Vekal Morson. You will be safe for a while, here. But I would advise you to stay put until I return, and not to speak either to Boris or Talon or any of the other gypsies who might come here.”
    “Gypsies?” Vekal asked. “Is that who you are traveling with?”
    “Whom I am guarding , yes. I have been guard to the gypsies for a few months now, as I know the area around the desert, and I know how to handle a sword. We were awakened just a few nights ago to a commotion. The Ghouls of the desert had attacked our caravan and seized the boy, Talon, and dragged him back to their den. The reason why it is me, here, looking after you, is because the gypsies saw what— who — it was that I dragged out of the dark back there, and they instantly refused to have any more to do with you.”
    Vekal shrugged. gypsy caravans traveled across the deserts every now and again, but most of the time they journeyed beyond the Iron Pass to the far north. They came to Tir once every few years, their colorful carts, dresses, and robes causing a stir amongst the generally somber and reserved city.
    But they would bring with them spices and goods and news that the city could never get otherwise. Vekal had even watched them come to the Tower, there to