Siege (The Warrior Chronicles, #5) - K.F. Breene Page 0,73
dipped to her hand. He stared for a moment before he shook his head in small jerks, frustration crossing his expression. “No, no. Go.” He looked at the food in his hands, then the gold, and finally the pouch, unsure of what to do. Obviously she could buy ten meals with just one gold coin, let alone what might be in the pouch. “No.”
“Please. Help. Here—”
A woman’s voice screeched out of the door, making the man glance backward. He shook his head again, indecision staying his feet. She could see the desire on his face, both for the gold and something else. She had to believe he didn’t like being ruled by the Graygual. He was just as trapped as she had been.
That gave her an idea. “The Wanderer, the Chosen, freed me. Saved me. I joined with her, with them, to help others. Let me help you.”
The voice screeched again. The man turned back to it, but didn’t commit. Not totally. He looked at Alena, his face troubled, before completing the turn and going back into the kitchen. He closed the door behind him.
“Dang it,” she swore. She dropped her hands and stood there for a second. There was nothing for it—she’d have to hold them prisoner. Or wait until everyone had gone home for the night and sneak in…
Patting her pouch, which held more than just coins, she mulled over how to get back into that kitchen. They had a bar that they probably secured the door with after they went home. That would prove troublesome. Maybe the front of the building had glass, though. Maybe she could get in and find something to poison.
As she reached the crates, pondering where she would go to wait, the door slid open again. She turned back in both hope and fear, ready to run. The man stopped in the middle of the alley with the same troubled face. Beside him stood a middle-aged man who seemed vaguely familiar.
“Hello?” the man said hesitantly, his accent thick.
“Hi!” Alena stepped forward, feeling the smile pull up from her toes. “You understand me?”
A grin tweaked his lips. “Westwood Lands? Yes. I traded often in my youth. With a surly Commander who’d just been promoted…”
“Commander Sanders, must be.”
“Did you have something you needed to translate?” he asked, his brow furrowing.
“Uh…yeah. Tell him that I’m with the Wanderer.” She waited while the man repeated it. “And that the Wanderer is here with an army.” She gave the basic gist, and then what she planned.
The man stared at her for a long beat. The cook prodded him eagerly. Finally, still watching Alena, the man spoke to the cook.
“You can really do as you say?” the man said softly after he was done.
“Yes! Please. Let me help you. Or you help me. It really amounts to the same thing. Help me free this city.”
The man shook his head as the cook bit his lip. Time flowed by, tensing Alena’s shoulders.
“It’s dangerous,” the man said in a hush. “We could all be killed—”
The cook interrupted him in crisp tones. The man sagged. “He said he’ll do it.”
20
Leilius’ eyes came open slowly. His head swam, and he felt drowsy and stupid. Something pulled at his wrists. He soon realized it was rope tying him to a post. No, not a post, part of a bed. Wiggling, he felt the soft bed beneath him, large enough for two sleepers. He was sprawled out in the middle, his ankles tied as tightly as his wrists.
Warning bled into him as one more realization dawned. Rising up, he stared down at his naked body. His manhood lay to the side, out for the world to see.
He yanked at his hands as the scene in the alleyway came flooding back. Women. Leather. Skin. Whips. Oh fuck.
He yanked harder, pulling up his knees. The rope dug into his skin.
A door opened at the end of the room. With it came a soft breeze that brought gooseflesh to his skin. A woman walked in covered in leather except for her arms, her breasts, and a hole at the top of her thighs. Leilius shivered for a couple reasons, and one of those was fear. An excited kind of fear, but fear nonetheless.
“Well, well, you’re awake.” The woman sauntered closer. Leilius tore his eyes away from her breasts, perky with pink buds of nipples, to what was in her hand. Unfortunately, the hand was by that other hole, and he’d never seen one of those before.