Pol rushed toward Rao and roared, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t gut you like the swine you are?” The Rirorni General approached Rao like an oncoming avalanche and left the retreating gladiator no room to maneuver, backing him toward a table. Pol’s eyes directed Rao to sit. The younger man followed Pol’s gaze to an empty chair.
Across from him, Rao regarded General Pol’s words but, more importantly, the long dagger in his hands. The sharp point dug into the tabletop. Rao's eyes shifted to an approaching Shewish Giant, with a drink in hand, who sat to his right, and the Alastarian barmaid, My‑re, came over and sat to his left.
“If you are planning to kill me, my understanding is Lady Greywand will resurrect any dead Lord Protector,” Rao said, folding his arms defensively across his chest.
“Not if she can’t find your body,” My‑re snorted.
“Or if Gromp eats you and poops you out,” Gromp the Shewish Giant quipped, gnashing his powerful and oversized teeth in demonstration, grinding them against each other like a whetstone to a blade.
Rao swallowed hard at their logic. While Lady Greywand had renowned power, even as far away as the Rirorni Empire, he didn’t want to put her limits to the test. He decided to change tactics. “General Pol, while I have heard of the loss of your command-”
Pol cut him off, “Of course you did. You and your brother Bannok and his ilk ensured my soldiers were decimated on the Rirorni plains.”
“Neither he nor I had any part of their demise,” Rao continued.
“Liar!” General Pol roared.
Gromp gripped the back of Rao’s neck. “Eat him now?”
My‑re regarded Rao and asked, “Do you have any evidence to the contrary?”
Rao, choked out from the Shew’s grip, spent the last air trapped in his lungs to gasp, “Does Pol have any evidence my brother or his army attacked him?”
My‑re and Gromp regarded General Pol.
Several heartbeats of silence followed before Pol snorted with disdain, “I know it was him.”
My‑re rolled her eyes, and Gromp removed his vice-like grip.
Rao gasped, heaved in air, and rubbed and rolled his neck. The joints cracked as he stretched. “The loss of any Rirorni-”
“You know nothing of loss,” interrupted Pol.
“Any Rirorni loss is a tragedy, but we are now all Lord Protectors on the Isle of the Eye. We are now all brothers and sisters under the same roof. So, are there any lodgings here?” Rao asked bravely.
“You may be a Lord Protector, but it’ll be the nine hells before I allow you to stay here,” Pol spat. After a pause, he continued, “Wait, the pigsty has room.”
“I understand your anger.” Rao held up his hand, seeing Pol’s mouth scowl in fury and about to speak. He took out a handful of gold coins and placed them on the table. “I’ll take my money and make other arrangements.”
General Pol seemed about to lash out but stopped at seeing the coins. “My rates just went up.”
“Of course, I would be willing to pay the increased rates.” At seeing Pol smile, he continued, “Under two conditions.”
“What?”
“One is to sleep in peace without keeping one eye open.”
“And”
“Second, as many free drinks as I want at the Broken Sword tavern.”
“One free drink a week,” General Pol countered.
“One free drink a day,” Rao responded.
General Pol grumbled. “And two months in advance.”
“Of course, and we have an accord.” Rao clapped his hands and said, “Now, what is this mushroom mead I just heard about?”