What Remains of Heroes Read Free Page A

friend could help him into a new set of clothes before he was hunted down and killed.

    “Lannick, you miserable rascal!” said Brugan, polishing the bar with a rag. He laughed heartily. He always did. “Did you bed your lovers in the sewers?”
    “No,” Lannick said with a smirk, “but it seems I slept there. Those ladies wanted me just for my body, such as it is.”
    Brugan laughed again, a big, belly-shaking chuckle that seemed to move the entire tavern.
    Lannick slumped into his usual stool and his smile withered. “You know who she was, don’t you?”
    “Of course I do. I know practically every citizen of Ironmoor, and many of their darkest secrets,” he said with a wink. “Which is why that girl was a particularly poor object of your… affections. But you’re alive, at least.”
    Lannick pressed his hands to his face. “I had no idea she was Fane’s daughter until it was too late. You should have warned me, Brugan.”
    “I did. Not once but four times,” Brugan said, rapping his heavy knuckles against the bar. “But, as usual, you were drunk, and thinking with something other than your head. I’d have had an easier time convincing shit not to stink.” He eyed Lannick up and down. “Or you for that matter.”
    “It seems I have a knack for bad choices. This may be the one mess I don’t survive.”
    “With any luck that girl will have the good sense to be ashamed of her choices last night, and will keep the entire matter from her dear father.”
    Lannick pressed closer to the bar, his voice sinking to a whisper. “But Fane found us. In his own bedchambers, even. I’m in real trouble, Brugan.”
    “Dead gods! Did he get a good look at you?”
    “Perhaps not my face.” Lannick grinned in spite of himself.
    “Did he recognize you?”
    “I doubt it—it’s been many years, and I haven’t exactly kept up my appearance.” He pointed to the scar that ran down his cheek, then patted the swell of a belly that’d known too much drink.
    Brugan shook his head and chuckled. “You awful bastard. We’re on the verge of war! Word is the High King’s entire council has convened to discuss how the ‘skirmish’ with the Arranese has brought us to the brink of all-out war. They say those savages are massing to cross the Southwall Mountains and invade the kingdom of Rune itself! The council’s even asked for oath-bound soldiers from all eight thanes of Rune, in case things take a bad turn. And here General Fane arrives home to find you— you —despoiling his daughter!”
    “I know. Perhaps someday I’ll laugh at this, but right now I’m scared, Brugan. Scared to death. Fane will not suffer this. Not from anyone, and least of all me. Even if he didn’t recognize me, he’ll have me hunted down and killed. I need a place to hide. I reckon if I hide out for a few days, he’ll have left for the war and this whole thing will be forgotten. Eventually, anyway.” He looked to Brugan sheepishly. “Can I count on you? Can I stay here for a couple of days?”
    The plea was met with a hard look. “No, Lannick. Absolutely not. You and I are friends—old friends—but I can’t keep saving you from your mistakes. Fane’s no friend of mine, either, remember? I’m not about to cross him and his brutish Scarlet Swords. Besides, he’s sure to head this way. Don’t you reckon he’ll think to ask this barkeep a question or two? Like whether I know a certain patron who was here just last night?” He pounded the bar with his fist. “Damn it, Lannick! Fane and his Scarlet Swords will shake the timbers of every alehouse and whorehouse in Ironmoor until you’re found. Someone’s certain to betray you, if they haven’t already.”
    “Fair enough,” said Lannick, knowing the barkeep was right. He wasn’t much for honor these days, but he couldn’t ask Brugan to place himself in harm’s way. Not again, and not for this. “Any chance I could trouble you for a hot bath, at least? Perhaps some clean