Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine by Jeanne G'Fellers (reading tree TXT) 📗

the help of our little arrangement.” Cance’s hand now rested on Starnes’s arm, gripping until her nails left marks. “If I do, I’ll make you watch as I kill your father.”

“I haven’t breathed a word.”

“Keep it that way.” Cance grabbed the crystal from the bar and climbed the stairs, stopping midflight to restate the warning. “I’ll be down later. Behave.” She leered down at LaRenna as she emerged from the kitchen. “Both of you.”

When she was gone, LaRenna drew to a chair beside Starnes. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You haven’t met the other one yet,” he whispered. “Brandoff’s a true Raskhallak curse.”

“Everyone has a weakness.” LaRenna peered up the stairwell. “I’ll find theirs and use it against them.” Kimshee determination darkened her disguise. “I swear it’ll bring them both down.”

Chapter Nineteen

Do not judge another’s post as simple until you have spent time at it.

—instructor’s wisdom from the Taelach Training Grounds

The Waterlead bustled with a crowd larger than LaRenna had anticipated. Not only did the sentry squadron patron the bar as ordered, but they brought friends, most of whom lingered well into the night. Trazar Laiman was among them, assuring his men’s sobriety with his presence. LaRenna dashed between tables, delivering drinks and platters around the dining area. The job was difficult, trying to the mind and the body but flowed smoothly once she had established a rhythm. When one table ordered, she delivered their drinks and approached the next, then delivered any food the first table had ordered, delivered drinks to the second, approached the third and so on throughout the evening.

“Trazar?” One of the sentries leaned back to address his commander at the next table. With no uniforms to show affiliation, rank and title were not to be mentioned. “Do you have relatives on Langus?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Why?”

The sentry pointed to where LaRenna was squeezing between the crammed tables. “The little vamp slinging drinks looks a lot like you. I just wanted to make sure she wasn’t your cousin or something before I hit on her.”

“Nah, the girls in my family are stocky built. She’s too tall and slender to be my relation.”

“She doesn’t look tall to me,” stated a lankier sentry at the same table. “And she may not be heavy, but she’s very well-rounded. Figures like hers are few and far between. Sure you’re not related? She’s got the same mark on her left ear.”

Trazar peered up from his drink. “She can’t. It’s a family trait. My sister and father have one, too.”

“So does the barmaid. Call her over and see for yourself.”

Trazar raised his hand for service. LaRenna dropped a round to a nearby group then approached his table. “Need another?” The question sounded tired. Her feet ached and the fresh Kimshee symbol throbbed from the rub of her shoe. Besides, she was slightly abashed by the way Trazar looked at her. He looked friendly enough, somewhat familiar, but she hadn’t the faintest notion why.

“No.” He leaned forward to view her left side. “My friends were curious about the diamond-shaped mark on your ear.”

LaRenna rubbed at the mark. “What about it?”

“Is it a scar, a birthmark?”

“Birthmark. Why?”

“You have any relations living in Vartoch’s southern mountains?”

“I’ve never been to Vartoch and I doubt I have family there. I’m local.” LaRenna smoothed her hair over the questioning mark. “Now, unless you have an order, I really must get to work.”

“Hold on,” said another at the table. “I’m local, too. I would remember someone like you and I’ve never seen you before.”

“Guess you never knew where to look,” retorted LaRenna with the slightest of grins. “I was raised in a farming compound just west of here.”

“Farm girl, huh?” Trazar returned her grin. He had many distant farming relations and was positive his next question would clear the air. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“LaRenna.”

Trazar choked on his wine. “LaRenna?” He gasped. The Death Stone’s cold image flew to mind. Hadn’t his father said the baby was born with the same mark? “Are you sure?”

“About my own name? Yes. Excuse me, but I am busy.” A corner table whistled for her attention. She took Trazar’s empty glass and turned.

“Wait.” Trazar grabbed her hand. “How old are you?”

“None of your business.” She struggled against his touch. “Let go.”

Trazar realized the strength of his grip and released, but his eyes remained transfixed on her face. Shades of Mercy were present in this young woman, as was his father’s jaw line. Could it be? Surely it was coincidence, a strange one for sure, but it couldn’t possibly be more. “I’m sorry, it’s just—”

“You gonna flirt all night or do your job?” LaRenna startled and turned to find Cance behind her. “The corner table demands your immediate attention. They’re friends of mine so their drinks are on the house.” She looked at Trazar. “Keep your hands off the staff or I’ll kick your ass out.”

“I meant no harm to the girl,” he replied.

“Sure you didn’t.” Cance escorted LaRenna from the table, making rude accusations concerning her propositioning the customers until they reached the table. She took a chair beside a long-haired man. “Service leaves something to be desired.” She elbowed Longhair in the ribs.”Nice to look at though, isn’t it?” The Autlach gave a polite laugh and whispered something in one of the lesser-known dialects to one of his comrades. Cance and LaRenna both understood the lewd comment, but neither dared react. “Bring us two wine crystals to sip from.” Cance’s attention reverted to LaRenna. “And me a dish of the roast you were eating earlier.”

“What else?” An unrolled scroll map on the table had caught LaRenna’s attention, so she lingered, trying to interpret the diagram without being seen.

“Yeah.” Cance sniffed. “Make it a crystal and a plate for each of us.” When LaRenna hesitated, Cance lashed out, pinching her leg through her skirts. “Slow barmaids have a bad habit of losing fingers and a lot more around me.” Cance twisted tighter before letting go. “Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” LaRenna rubbed her