Weapon of Vengeance (Weapon of Flesh Trilogy) Read Free

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build, nondescript clothing, and no weapons, Lad knew that many underestimated
him.  Generally he took pains to avoid conflict, but right now he wasn’t in the
mood for explanations.  He nodded toward the door.  “Open it.”
    “I don’t know who you are, bucko, but you don’t just
come into this shop and—”
    Lad thrust his fist out faster than the Enforcer
could even reach for his cleaver.  With exquisite precision, he stopped the
blow an inch from the man’s nose.  The ring on Lad’s finger—obsidian woven with
gold—widened the thug’s eyes and closed his mouth.  Lad bridled his urge for
violence.  The man was just doing his job.  It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t
yet recognize the new master of the Twailin Assassins Guild. 
    “Now you know who I am.”  Lad lowered his hand and
nodded again at the door.  “Open it.”
    “Yes, Master.”  The thug opened the door and stepped
aside.
    The room wasn’t what one would expect in the back of
a butcher shop.  One side was furnished for pleasure, a well-appointed sitting
area with a luxurious rug, a plush divan and low table adjacent to a mahogany
bar crowded with decanters, bottles, and an array of cut-crystal glasses.  The
other side of the room was all business, with a broad desk of dark oak littered
with papers faced by two leather-upholstered chairs.
    Behind the desk sat a man who obviously believed in
mixing business and pleasure.  Dressed in a sharp, brushed-wool jacket and
waistcoat with gold buttons, he appeared the epitome of a successful businessman. 
The provocatively dressed girl on his lap spoiled that image.  The perturbation
on his face at the unexpected visitors transformed to shock, and he surged to
his feet, spilling the girl to the floor and her drink into his lap. 
    “Master!”  Tiny silver rods chimed at his wrist as
Jingles brushed the liquid from his trousers and hauled the girl to her feet. 
“Sorry about that.  Just havin’ a little bit of fun, you know.”  He patted the
girl on the rump as he nudged her toward the room’s other door.  “Off with you
now, Celia.  We’ll talk later.  Ah…keep up the good work.”
    Lad watched the girl go.  She couldn’t have been
more than sixteen years old, but the seductive smile she tossed his way
suggested that she was already well-versed in her profession.  Undoubtedly a
portion of her earnings found their way into Assassin Guild coffers, though it
looked as if Jingles might be taking his share in trade.  What his Master
Enforcer did for fun didn’t concern Lad.  He had a more important matter on his
mind.
    “Do you know this man?”  Lad released his charge’s
collar.  The man stumbled, looking as if he wished he were anywhere but here. 
He squinted out of his one good eye—the other was purple and swollen shut—and
dabbed at his bloody split lip with a sodden handkerchief.  One whole side of
his face was a massive contusion.
    “Can’t say as I do offhand, but…”  Jingles rounded
the desk, still brushing at his damp crotch as he examined the fellow’s face. 
“Look the other way so I can see you without that bruise.”
    The man complied.
    “Come to think of it, yes, I think I do know him. 
Runs a bookstore off Briar Rose Avenue.”
    “A st-stationers,” the man corrected.  “Th-the Binder’s
Bin Stationers.”
    “Right!  Quebeck’s his name!”  Jingles grinned as if
he’d just solved a puzzle, but sobered when he saw Lad’s grim expression. 
“What happened to him?”
    “He was beaten and threatened, and his shop was
tossed.”  Lad’s anger rose again.  “I ordered an end to this violence! 
Tell me, Jingles, did you order this?”
    “I did not , Master.”  Jingles looked suddenly
frightened.  “I’ve followed your orders to the letter, I swear on my life!”
    “An appropriate oath.  Your life is exactly what it’ll cost you if I find out you’re lying.”  Lad turned to the trembling