Guarded by Kim Fielding Page B

Gods, no.”
    “But I’ve treated you so badly. And you saw me… You saw what those fuckers did to me.”
    Volos decided to ignore the first part of Berhanu’s statement. “I didn’t see anything I haven’t seen before.” He looked the prince carefully in the eyes. “I didn’t see anything I haven’t experienced myself.”
    Berhanu’s jaw worked. “Have you—”
    But before he could finish his question, a large man with a wild beard parked himself next to their table. He had a soldier’s stance. “What are you doing, talking that Wedey shit here?” he demanded in Kozari. “Who the fuck are you?”
    Narrowing his eyes, Volos growled at him. “None of your business.”
    “This is my city, my country. That makes it my business.” He took a step closer. “Who are you anyway? Wedey scum?”
    Volos stood. He allowed his cloak to fall open and he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I am Volos Perun, and I am this man’s guard. Stop being an ass and show some courtesy to a weary traveler.”
    “Courtesy!” The man drew a knife from his belt. It had an impressively big blade, but it would be no match for a sword. Besides, his eyes were red and he reeked of alcohol. “I’ll show him the courtesy of a quick death,” he snarled.
    Berhanu stood too. But although he clutched his borrowed knife, he wouldn’t last a moment in a fight. He looked as if a strong wind might knock him over. A crowd had formed, the other patrons of the tavern gathering in a rapt circle just out of reach of Volos’s sword.
    Instead of drawing his sword, Volos stepped closer to the bearded man. Fear flashed in the man’s eyes, which was good. But it would be unwise to back him into a metaphorical corner when he had an audience.
    “Friend,” Volos said calmly. He shot Berhanu a quick warning look before turning his attention back to the bearded man. “I understand your feelings about Wedey. I fought in that war too.” He didn’t mention for which side. “But the war is over, man. Let us show the Wedey that Kozari can practice peace as well.”
    The man wavered visibly, and a few members of the crowd shouted words of agreement.
    Volos managed a smile. “We were nearly done here anyway. Put your knife away and we’ll leave.”
    When the man hesitated, two men and a woman stepped forward to grasp his arms gently. They tugged him backward.
    “Let’s go,” Volos said to Berhanu in Wedey. For a terrible minute he thought Berhanu was going to refuse, but then the prince growled and resheathed his knife.
    An older woman moved to their table. “I’m sorry for this,” she said, giving Volos and Berhanu a smile. She dropped a few coins on their table— enough to pay for their ale. “We’re not all rude.”
    “Thank you,” said Volos. Then, hoping that Berhanu would follow, he walked to the stairs leading to their room.
    ****

Chapter Eight
    Berhanu said nothing as they readied themselves for bed, but he was clearly furious. He threw his boots onto the floor, tossed the holstered knife across the room, and stripped off his clothes so viciously that he nearly ripped them. He leaned against the washstand as he toweled himself off, but the tightness of his wasted muscles was very apparent on his thin body.
    Volos waited stupidly in the corner until it became clear that Berhanu did not intend to get into bed anytime soon. Volos sighed and slowly began to undress. He was down to nothing but his baggy Kozari trousers when Berhanu whirled around to look at him.
    “You just walked away from that bastard,” Berhanu spat.
    “Yes.”
    “He threatened us, didn’t he? And I don’t know what he said but I’ve no doubt it was insulting. And you just smiled and walked away.”
    “What did you want me to do, Your Highness?” Volos allowed a mocking tone into his voice. “Kill him for insulting us?”
    “Yes!” Berhanu’s hands were fisted at his side.
    “Just because someone is an ill-mannered oaf doesn’t mean he deserves