The Dragon Hunters by Christian Warren Freed Page A

I’m going to have. Maybe the only one.”
    “If you’d just…” he dropped it, realizing there wasn’t much point in arguing with a headstrong man almost as wild as the mountains themselves. “What makes you think she’ll join you?”
    Grelic tested the stew. It was starting to bubble.
    “Not sure she will,” he replied. “But Kialla does like a fight. Sometimes I think she’s too much like me.”
    “That spells trouble for all of us. The last thing Thrae needs is another you drunk and fighting. Too damned much trouble,” Phaes grumbled. “My head still hurts from the last time you hit me.”
    “I apologized for that, and I was drunk,” Grelic protested.
    “Still doesn’t take away the pain.”
    Grelic scowled. “Will you help me or not?”
    Phaes served them both healthy portions of stew and bread. The food was hot but bland. Spices and seasonings were always rare this time of year and Phaes was a horrible cook. “Let me do some checking. Last I heard she was over working the room at the Ram. Looking for a hire no doubt.”
    “Been a long time since I was last there,” Grelic said between mouthfuls.
    Phaes struggled to hold back the snort. “Been a long time since you last busted the place up. Do you have any idea how much you’ve cost the innkeepers here?”
    “About as much as I am tired of hearing about it,” he replied angrily. “How soon can you find her?”
    “Give me until sundown. Oh and try not to smash anything while I’m gone. If trouble does show up please take it outside.”
    Grelic grinned. “Would I let anyone destroy your house?”
    Phaes didn’t want to answer.
    * * * * *
    Kialla sat up and ran her fingers through her shoulder-length, auburn hair. A sheen of sweat covered her naked body and she was still breathing hard. Her dark brown eyes held the gleam of lust, a rare look enhancing her natural beauty. She was lithe and very athletic. In her late twenties, she was childless and never married. Not for lack of suitors. Kialla was the object of several men’s affections. She ran her hand down her lover’s stomach, finally resting on his hardening member. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
    “Looks to me like someone wants more,” she said with a sultry voice.
    His hand gently curled around her neck and pulled her down.
    “The things you do to me,” he whispered right before her lips touched his.
     
     
     
    Kialla sat at her usual corner table in the Battering Ram’s common room, nursing a pint of bitter ale. Her chair was tipped back enough to allow her long legs to prop up on the table. Faded brown boots went up to her knees. Her blouse and trousers were different shades of green and brown, in stark contrast to the vibrant city folk colors. Her clothing suggested she was a hunter. Few were so foolish as to ask what. Her steeled gaze kept most people at bay. She was anything but the tender kitten she appeared.
    Staring through the clouds of smoke and heavy crowd, she searched for potential employers and assassins alike. Kialla had never been the drinking sort. She generally had one before getting bored and finding either a job or entertainment. Truthfully she didn’t know why she still hung around Kelis Dur. There wasn’t anything special about the city or the kingdom. Her adventures had run her across the vast northern kingdoms and beyond. She’d seen things no living soul should ever witness and walked away to tell of it. Kialla was a survivor.
    Today’s heavy storm left half the common room empty. She failed to understand how bad weather could dampen spirits so. After all, Thrae only had bad weather. Most people chose to stay warm and dry in the boredom of their homes than come out and enjoy good food and halfway decent company. Considering she had a reserved room upstairs, she failed to see the problem. So Kialla sat and quietly sipped her drink, trusting something was bound to turn up.
    The corner was the safest, most naturally defensible position in