Daryk Warrior by Denise A. Agnew Page A

punch
he’d evade her.
    She threw a disgusted look at the barman. “Don’t give him
anything. His money isn’t welcome here.”
    The barman retreated from the area to help another patron.
Annalica’s beautiful eyes sent fire at Eryk, and at one time her brand of fury
would have aroused him. Hells, as late as a few days ago he would have found
her beauty exciting. Not today. And he couldn’t say why. It annoyed the shite
out of him.
    He gestured sharply toward the front door. “People are
running around out there in a panic. What have you heard?”
    She flicked a glance his way then looked around at her
patrons. They were too souped up to care what happened outside the walls.
“There’s talk of a war party heading this way. Some of Drakus Fina’s men.
They’ve been raiding every few days.”
    “I was here for the last one. Who is your source?”
    “My lover.” Her gaze snapped to his and held.
    He knew she wanted him jealous. She’d angled to get in his
trousers for as long as he could remember. His distrust of her had won over a
Daryk One’s desire for sex. She’d sell him up the river to the highest bidder
if the right payment came her way.
    “And?” He crossed his arms. “You lover spread a rumor about
a raid on Felican or he got it from a reliable source?”
    “Reliable.” She swallowed hard. “He used to be one of Drakus
Fina’s men.”
    Unease started in his stomach. “Used to be?”
    She glanced at the floor. Yeah. She didn’t know whether to
believe this so-called lover.
    “How does he know about an attack? He’s not one of Drakus’
men anymore,” Eryk said.
    Annalica’s gaze flicked to a point behind him and the hair
on the back of Eryk’s neck rose. He turned slowly, his hand reaching for the
hilt of his sword.
    A man even taller than Eryk stood not five feet from him.
Mixed dark and gray hair tossed this way and that on the man’s head. His dark
eyes held menace, his lips were tight. With a pugnacious jaw and big crooked
nose, the man would scare most women shiteless. His dark, sleeveless tunic
showed powerful arms, his physique one of fitness. Most likely he carried
substantial coin. Hence Annalica’s attraction to him.
    “Disrespect my woman and you die,” the older man said.
    Eryk sized the man up. The guy was taller, yes, but not as
strong. Older. Not a Daryk One. Still, Eryk didn’t want a fight.
    Eryk looked the guy straight in the eye. “No disrespect
intended. I don’t give two dragon turds. What I want to know is if there is a
credible threat to Felican Castle.”
    Eryk also didn’t care if the rest of the tavern heard him.
Judging by the way heads swiveled in his direction, quite a few patrons had.
    The man eyeballed him and put his hand out to shake. “Then I
think we can work together. I’m Boltga Arch. I work off and on with Marc Gambia
at his compound.”
    Eryk knew Marc Gambia well. The man owned a huge complex
that wasn’t as large as Felican Castle but was well-guarded and perfectly
neutral. Even more neutral than Felican Castle.
    Eryk shook hands. “Work? In what capacity?”
    Boltga glanced around the room. “I need more privacy to talk
about this.”
    “Outside then.” Eryk didn’t trust the man, and talking
outside at least wouldn’t leave Eryk in a room alone with the guy.
    Eryk didn’t bother to look at Annalica. He didn’t care what
she thought of her lover’s willingness to talk peaceably. Chatter in the tavern
returned to a dull roar. The show was over. Eryk didn’t turn his back on
Boltga, and the man left in front of Eryk.
    Just outside the tavern Eryk said, “For immediate clarification,
I’m not interested in Annalica. You don’t need to worry in that regard.”
    Boltga grunted then a smile crossed his ugly mug. “Good.
She’s a fuckin’ handful if there ever was one. Not sure I’ll have much use for
her soon.”
    Eryk kept his voice low and firm. “The second thing you
should know about me is that I won’t stand by and watch