“I was going to tell you to not,” Eno said with a grin.
“You need to learn to talk faster, then,” Drayce grumbled. Would they think it weird if he leaned over and licked the side of Caelan’s face? Probably so, but he wanted to get this taste out of his mouth.
Caelan ignored them and leaned forward so he could speak softly and still be heard. “How do we find our contact? We don’t know what they look like.”
“I have a feeling we don’t. The contact will come to us,” Rayne replied.
Eno huffed a laugh. “It’s not like we’re going to be all that hard to spot. We do stand out.”
Drayce plucked at his shirt. “But I got these stylish new duds.”
Rayne rolled his eyes. “And yet you still scream foreigner.” The advisor shook his head and turned his attention to Caelan. “We wait. As long as we spend a little money on drink and food, I don’t believe the man behind the bar will have any problem with us lingering.”
Unfortunately, they didn’t have long to wait until trouble found them. Or rather, the other people in the bar gathered up the courage needed to confront the outsiders in their space.
It began with a couple of men shouting in their direction, which they all ignored easily enough since only one of them had a chance of understanding what they were saying. But then, the ringleader with long dark hair pulled into a messy ponytail walked up to Rayne had pulled at his shoulder, barking something that sounded ugly. Or maybe it was just the harshness of the language. It seemed to be mostly spoken through the nose or the back of the throat.
Eno started to rise, but Rayne placed a hand on his arm and squeezed it before he looked over his shoulder and spoke quickly.
“What’s wrong?” Caelan demanded. The king kept his narrowed gaze on the man who was harassing Rayne. Drayce dropped his right hand below the table to rest on the hilt of his gun. Things felt like they were about to get really ugly.
“I’m only catching parts of it, but I get that we’re not welcome here,” Rayne replied calmly. “They seem to think we’re from Caspagir.”
“That’s a plus, I guess,” Caelan muttered.
“Not much of one,” Eno countered and Drayce had to agree. Even if the locals thought they were just Caspagir traders, it wasn’t keeping them from drawing attention.
The Zastrian who first troubled Rayne turned away and said something to his companions at the bar, earning some deep belly laughs. Except when he turned back, he was pulling a long, serrated blade from a sheath on his leg.
Drayce barely drew in a breath to warn Rayne when Eno was on his feet, plowing his fist into Rayne’s would-be attacker. The man flew through the air, slamming into a group of his friends and sending them to the floor in a tangled heap.
“What the fuck!” Caelan shouted, jumping to his feet.
Drayce’s reply was instantly drowned out by the roar of approval from nearly everyone in the bar. The first attacker regained his feet and went at Eno with the blade still in hand, while Eno fought him off bare-fisted. The bastard was obviously trying to kill Eno, while the bodyguard was simply attempting to knock him out.
“Cael?” Eno shouted as he ducked under a swipe aimed at his throat. He delivered a shovel hook punch to the man’s rib cage with enough force to lift the asshole off his feet and throw him into his companions.
“Knock him out. Killing will draw the local authorities,” Caelan snapped.
Except the asshole’s buddies were getting bored with the fight. Two more peeled off the bar to jump Eno from behind.
Rayne snarled in Drayce’s direction, “Protect Cael,” and then palmed one of his throwing knives. The silver blade flashed in the low light for only a blink of an eye before burying in one guy’s shoulder. That at least got the attention of the two men trying to attack Eno’s back, but it drew them over to their table.
Fuck, this was getting out of hand fast. They were outnumbered nearly five to one and really couldn’t afford to leave, or they’d miss out on meeting their contact.
Bright light flooded the yurt for a moment as the flap was pushed aside and a woman stepped inside with long dark hair, wearing the baggy shirt and pants common to the region. She took one look at the scene before her and groaned loudly. Her gaze snapped unerringly to their table. “I knew this would happen. Give me a sec.”
Drayce could only blink at her. She’d spoken with a distinct Caspagir accent. She…she couldn’t be their contact, could she?
In the end, it didn’t matter. She pulled a sawed-off shotgun from a holster between her shoulder blades and unloaded two booming rounds into a couple of men. She reholstered it in one smooth motion with one hand while her other drew a long knife. With an elegant spin, she slashed the throat of a third man, then shoved the blade into the gut of the man fighting Eno.