Stranger of Tempest: Book One of The God Fragments Read Online Free Page A

wake you.’
    Lunch came and went in a rather more literal fashion than Lynx was comfortable with, but the handful of hours’ sleep he managed beforehand improved the state of the world dramatically. He was still a scarred, unwanted exile from a country of bastards who’d spent years brutalising their neighbours, but he could at least walk in a straight line without feeling like the floor was going to punch him.
    The afternoon passed quietly, the only break to self-indulgent wallowing being when Lynx found himself inspected by a tall and beautiful woman with red-rimmed eyes. She seemed the least likely candidate for Mistress Simbly he’d met in Janagrai, but he managed to conceal his surprise as he struggled up from his seat. Her husband had been an amiable fellow, but on the short side with something of a squint and thinning hair. His wife was of a similar age, it was true, but had she been wearing finer clothing Lynx would have thought her some local duchess.
    The formalities were dealt with easily and with little input from Lynx, he was glad to discover. His account had been confirmed by the militia officer, Kelleby, and the goods in the wagon were as Mistress Simbly had expected. Though Lynx had been careful to take his pay before arriving in town, the bereaved merchant added to it in thanks for his honesty – enough to pay for a broken chair at least. She left about her own business soon enough and Lynx found only himself and Mistress Pellow in the common room, an hour or more before the evening trade was likely to begin.
    ‘So you’re looking for fighting work?’ she called to him from behind the bar.
    Lynx looked up. The woman hadn’t exactly warmed to him, but her manner had thawed somewhat in the face of a newcomer who could string a sentence together. In his years of wandering, Lynx had seen that often enough. Villages and towns were so small most wanted news of the outside, but many were just glad to talk to someone new.
    He shook his head. ‘Not if I can help it.’
    ‘We don’t have many merchants looking to take on a stranger as escort,’ she warned, ‘not with the Knights’ outpost in town.’
    ‘If there’s labouring work, I’ll do that. Can balance books too, if you want it.’
    ‘You? I’ve not met many mercenaries who can write their own name.’
    ‘Wasn’t born a soldier,’ Lynx replied. ‘Father was a shopkeeper in a town not much bigger than this. Can’t say it’s a job I’d like for the rest of my life, but I can remember it well enough.’ He grunted and glanced at the long leather sheath beside him that contained his mage-gun. ‘Can’t say there’s any job I’d like for the rest of my life, actually, but I guess it’d be better than the alternative.’
    ‘From So Han, right?’ she said with a pointed look.
    Lynx paused. ‘Aye, once upon a time.’
    ‘So you served.’
    ‘We all did, if you were of an age. All swallowed the same shit about the honour of our flag, defence of our people.’
    ‘My brothers died in the Valleys campaign.’
    Lynx ducked his head in acknowledgement. ‘Lot of folk did. Glad I wasn’t there myself.’
    ‘So where, then?’
    ‘Mind if we drop this? Ain’t exactly a happy subject for any of us.’
    ‘The Greensea?’
    Despite himself, Lynx felt the memory like a claw inside his gut. ‘For a time,’ he said in a half-whisper.
    ‘So you’re one of them?’
    The condemnation in her voice was enough to make his fists tighten, but Lynx was no stranger to it and he relaxed quick enough.
    ‘Never one of them,’ he said firmly. ‘There was some real fighting to be done there too, at first anyway. I had no part in what came after.’
    ‘Easy enough to claim, that.’
    He looked her straight in the eye. ‘You want to see the scars on my back, I’ll show you. Ain’t ashamed of what I did in that war, I’ll tell you now. Won’t bloody defend what others did either, but in So Han they don’t whip a man for liking the killing too