City of Rogues: Book I of the Kobalos Trilogy Read Online Free

hands all that saved him from a broken nose.
    Before he could roll over, a hand clamped on the back of his shirt and yanked him to his feet.
    The boy tried to run, but he was held in a grip of iron and his struggles soon ceased.
    He twisted his head to stare at a gloved hand that led up to a man in a deerskin tabard. He was tall, with dusty boots rising to his knees. A leather vest covered a linen shirt and a long, tan cloak hung from his back. The clothes were those of a man who spent much time in the woods or on the roads, but they were clean and in good condition. Also, the sizable sword on the fellow’s left hip told the boy this was someone he should take seriously.
    The man nodded across the way to the baker's shop. “ Looked as if you were about to have breakfast.”
    The boy had learned early in his young life to read human character, and he knew right away this man was no fool. It would be stupid to lie. “A good breakfast it would have been, too, without your intrusion.”
    The man pointed to their right past a line of booths to the edge of a stone warehouse. “Two city guards around that corner,” he said, then pointed to their left between another row of stalls, “and a member of the beggars’ guild up that way. He probably would not like you scaring off his business. I think I saved you a bit of trouble.”
    The stranger released his grip on the youth.
    The boy thought about running, but his curiosity got the best of him. He wanted to know how he had been caught. He was sure there had been no one near him mere seconds before. “ Where’d you come from just now?”
    The man chuckled. “That corner.” He jabbed a thumb behind them to a dark spot aft of a fruit stall. “I was sitting on a crate finishing my breakfast when you showed. If you’re going to have a future as a thief, you’re going to have to learn to read your surroundings better.”
    “ I’m no thief!”
    The man chuckled again. “You were about to pay for that loaf of bread?”
    The boy pouted. He would have stuffed his hands in his pockets, but his ragged pants didn’t have any pockets.
    Towering over the youth, the man showed no signs of allowing the boy to flee without answering questions. “ What’s your name, boy?”
    “ Why should I tell you?”
    A smile remained on the stranger’s lips, but not in his eyes. “Because I’m asking, and in polite society, one generally gives one’s name when asked.”
    “ Who says we’re in polite society? Anyway, I don’t know you.”
    “ I am Lucius Tallerus,” the man said with a polite nod of his head. “Now you.”
    The boy bit his bottom lip. He didn’t like giving his name to this man. The fellow seemed almost as if he were a member of the city guard. The lad didn’t think he was in trouble, but he didn’t want to take any chances. Still, there was no use in putting off the inevitable.
    “ Wyck.”
    The grin on Lucius’s lips grew wider, but his stern eyes were not blinking. “Try again. Your real name.”
    “ I don’t know my real name.” The boy was telling the truth. “I never knew my mom and dad, but on the streets they call me Wyck.”
    Some of the cold fled from the man’s eyes as he pulled a small leather sack from beneath his tabard. He opened it with one hand, retrieved three silver coins and held them out. “Take these.”
    The boy’s eyes were wide as he stared at the coins.
    Lucius’s gloved hand moved a little closer to the boy, the coins in his palm. “I want you to buy some food and new clothes. And I want you to get a room off the streets, at least for the night.”
    Wyck’s eyes darted from the coins to the man’s face. “I’m not doing anything sick for you. I might be living on the streets, but I’m not desperate.”
    The grin returned to Lucius’s face. “I didn’t mean anything of the sorts. The coins are for you, then we part ways if you wish.”
    Confusion was plain on the boy’s face. “Why are you doing this?”
    He saw a glazed