Page 5 of The Barbarian King's Assassin (Magic and Kings 1)
My dipin the wharf didn’t kill me; however, it left me in a sour mood. Especially since I had to do an embarrassing squish-walk back to the guild because I’d lost a boot. My favorite boot, custom made, comfortable, practical, and difficult to replace. At my age—thirty-three years and with three plucked gray hairs that I’d told no one about—it was less about style and more about comfort.
At least no one bothered me as I stomped into the building wet, very annoyed, but, at the same time, triumphant. After all, I had accomplished my task. As I entered the guild, I slapped the massive desk to the left of the entrance.
Despite wanting to ignore me, Benji, the guild’s notary and accountant, couldn’t without looking like a horse’s ass. Sporting an expression of disdain, he glanced at me, his spectacles perched on the end of his nose. Lips pursed in disapproval.
“You’re dripping on the floor,” Benji complained.
“Glad to see you’re concerned about my wellbeing. I’m fine, thank you.”
“My only concern is if we’re going to be presented with a bill for damages.” Benji only paid attention to the financial bottom line, tight-fisted to the extreme, but I could grudgingly admit he managed the almost impossible and kept us afloat.
Times were tough these days, hence why I was killing people whose only crime was falling in love.
Hmm. When thought of in that respect, that made it sound tawdry.
Beneath me.
I’d get over it. The coin I’d earn would vastly help in that area.
I reported. “The wharf-master is dead, as per the contract request. Although a certain lord’s son might be traumatized.”
The most dramatic sigh surged from Benji. “Why must you insist on being indiscreet?”
“First off, the parents were supposed to have locked up the young lord. And second, if I’d not done it, it would have been someone else.”
“I’d have preferred anyone else, because then I’d not have to deal with the lord who is supposed to be paying us. You’ve probably cost us a portion,” he rebuked with a scowl.
“Only if the little lord complains.”
“I’ll send someone to waylay and remind him how foolish he’d appear if word were to get out he’d done nothing to protect his lover.”
“Cheaper I assume than what daddy lord would cost us?”
“Much.”
“You always find a solution to ensure we can enjoy a lavish lifestyle,” I complimented. We might not like each other, but I needed Benji to keep the funds coming.
“Speaking of lavish, you might want to tone down the spending. In case you haven’t noticed, the jobs are coming in less and less frequently.”
“I was thinking of that earlier. It’s been kind of quiet. Do I need to kill a few random people to cause some panic?”
“That would draw the sultan’s attention. You know he allows only very little crime to happen. Just enough to remind people why they still want his soldiers around.”
“They wouldn’t even know it was me. I could frame someone and really start some trouble to get business going.”
His lips pursed. “You’re too old to still be acting like this. And the only reason you’re getting away with it is because of your relationship to the master.”
I snorted. “The master hasn’t been around in months. Admit it, you love what I do because I am good for business. Speaking of which, has there been further talk about electing a new master?”
“No need since we already have one.”
My brows raised. Only one reason he’d say that. “Benji, you sly bastard. Is Jrijori back from his sabbatical?”
My teacher, the one who’d rescued me from a prison so long ago, had left months ago to reset his mind and spirit. Not the first time he’d done this. I had to wonder what he did during those excursions because, whatever it involved, he returned looking healthier, usually richer, and ready for life changes.
“Master Jrijori has indeed returned and is in his office going over the reports since his departure.”
I pushed away from Benji’s desk. “He’s probably anxious to see me.”