Even Gods Must Fall by Christian Warren Freed Page A

jungles. Nasty bastards they were, too.”
    Scarface, the younger mercenary, barked a shrill laugh. “You ain’t never been in the jungle.”
    Boen spun on the smaller man. His fists clenched, the Gaimosian rose a little higher on the balls of his feet and leaned forward. “You calling me a liar, boy ?”
    Realizing his mistake, Scarface immediately backed down. “No, uh…I was just sayin is all. Folks all have tales of monsters and such.”
    “I seen what I seen and don’t need some snot-nosed kid claiming different. We’re not going to have problems, are we?” Boen pressed.
    Scarface threw his hands up and fervently shook his head. “Not from me.”
    Boen gave a curt nod. “Good. Now where was we?”
    “Talking on heading into them woods to rout our prey,” Pock Face answered smoothly, relishing the rebuke of his younger companion. “I heard tell Skaning wants us to go in tonight.”
    “I don’t fancy tackling that bastard at night,” Boen replied. “Did either of you get a good look at him this morning?”
    Scarface shook his head again, much slower this time.
    “I did. Bigger than an ox he was,” Pock Face said. “Not the sort I’d want to run up against in the dark. You might be able to take him, or at least give him a good run.”
    Boen froze. He forced his hand away from his sword. There was no way he’d be able to fight his way clear of the entire camp if he was discovered. “I may be big but I ain’t stupid. We got archers for that sort of work.”
    “Archers ain’t no good at night.”
    “I don’t reckon they are but neither is my courage. I don’t want to die until after I get paid,” Boen said quickly, hoping to distract them before idle minds began thinking.
    Pock Face bit back a laugh. “Don’t matter none. Skaning hisself is taking ten of the lads to try and get this bastard tonight. With a little luck we’ll be done with this game and heading back to the real money. I’d like to be the one to take a swing at the king’s brother. Think of the bonus I’d get!”
    Scarface yawned and rubbed his lower back. “Been a long while since we was forced to ride like that. I need some sleep.”
    “Too bad you got next watch,” Pock Face reminded him. “I’ll be dreaming about your old lady though.”
    “Go on ahead. Make sure you get whatever new diseases she done picked up too,” Scarface said and laughed.
    “I’ll take the watch,” Boen offered. “I can’t get no sleep no how and my turn ain’t been called tonight.”
    “Thanks, friend, but you ain’t getting a cut of my pay.”
    Boen shrugged. “Don’t need it. Go and get before I change my mind.”
    Without needing additional encouragement, Scarface trudged off to his sleeping roll, leaving Boen and Pock Face standing in awkward silence. The two studied each other, sizing each other up. Boen could tell the mercenary was trying hard to figure out whether they knew each other or not. He reached up to scratch his jaw, careful to avoid the awful scarring on his lower cheeks.
    “Got a problem?” Boen asked defensively.
    “Maybe. I don’t think I know you, friend .”
    Boen tensed, ready to attack and flee. “Don’t see as to why you should. I joined up with that last batch of recruits when we was heading out of Chadra. Boss didn’t want to take me on at first cause of my age but I convinced him otherwise.”
    “How?”
    “By shoving this blade under his throat and telling him how much I needed the job,” Boen growled, casually showing his broadsword to the mercenary.
    Pock Face blanched slightly at the size of the weapon, knowing he’d have difficulties wielding it in battle. “Well…ah, sounds good. I’m gonna take a piss. Watch my post?”
    Boen nodded. Nervously, the mercenary headed out into the darkness to relieve himself. Boen waited a handful of seconds before drawing the dagger tucked in his waistband and stalked after. He came upon Pock Face just as he was tying his trousers up. A whirl of movement