Knightswrath (The Dragonkin Trilogy Book 2) by Michael Meyerhofer

then turned, grinning. “Were I still a whore, I’d charge you two silvers for that.”
    “Enough.” Rowen used the butt of his spear to push her back a step. “I offered instruction out of kindness. If you want to kill something, go wander the countryside and find a Lochurite to tussle with.”
    “Thanks, but I prefer to rattle the skulls of pompous Knights.” Haesha sank in a low crouch and sprang up, twisting. The movement caused her ample bosom to sway. A pink nipple caught his eye.
    Too late, Rowen recognized her tactic. Before he could wrest his eyes from the distraction, Haesha’s spear slammed into his groin. His armor absorbed most of the force, but he still doubled over. “Fohl take you!” He looked up to see her spear point angling toward his throat again.
    But Jalist stepped between them. The Dwarr blocked the strike with his long axe and countered, lopping off the sharpened tip of her spear. He gave the priestess a cold stare. “Like he said… enough.”
    Haesha took a step back. Then she smirked and twirled the remains of her spear before tossing it at Jalist’s feet. She faced the onlookers. “Some protector you’ve hired.”
    Rowen felt his face burning with shame, but he could not formulate a biting retort.
    Again, Jalist came to his aid. “He could have killed you a dozen times. It takes no great skill to strike a cheating blow against someone who’s only fighting for sport.”
    But Haesha was already walking away, vanishing into the night. Scowling, Matua went after her. Jalist helped Rowen to his feet.
    Rowen whispered, “A dozen?”
    “I was feeling generous. So, will you live to father a brood of redheaded bastards, or do we need to flay the girl for revenge?”
    Rowen felt all eyes on him. He noted the onlookers’ expressions. Some were embarrassed on his behalf or ashamed that a fellow priestess had behaved in such a manner. Others still looked amused. He resisted the impulse to reach under his armor and massage his groin. “Seems like Dyoni’s followers have found a new way to worship.”
    Jalist laughed. “Did she rattle your brains, Locke, or do you really not know an Iron Sister when you see one?”
    Rowen blinked. “But she wore the chalice and the crescent moon—”
    “So she changed her robes and pinned on a different symbol. Doesn’t change what she is. Or was. ”
    Rowen’s rage slackened, though the embarrassment remained. “Well, at least we know why she’s been drinking so damn much.”
    Jalist nodded. “Come sit by the fire before you fall over.”
    As the Dwarr helped him along, Rowen cast a murderous look in the direction the priestess had gone. He half hoped that Haesha would try the same bravado on Silwren and get herself burned to cinders.

Chapter Six
    The City-on-the-Sea

    T hough Rowen and Jalist took turns keeping watch on the camp with some halfhearted assistance from the people they were trying to protect, no Lochurites appeared to assail the camp. At first light, Silwren returned. Rowen noted her bloodshot eyes, but she appeared otherwise stoic and tireless as she mounted her horse and joined the column.
    They set out to the east again. Silwren rode some distance from the others, while Jalist continued at the rear. Rowen spotted Haesha, too, though she kept her distance as well and snarled at Matua when he offered her water. Matua proceeded to the head of the column. Surrendering Snowdark to a mother and child again, Rowen walked with the priest.
    Matua said, “I’ll be glad when we get to the city. I still can’t believe those berserkers attacked us in those numbers. It wasn’t like this the last time I passed through Nosh. Things are getting worse.”
    Rowen eyed the growing body of water on the horizon. Anxious to put the Lochurites out of his mind, he said, “What can you tell me about Atheion?”
    Matua shrugged. “Only what you’ve probably already heard in legends. The city’s older than the Shattering War, built by the