Rage of a Demon King (Serpentwar Book 3)

Livia slapped him again and then bit him hard on the neck as she said, ‘Oh, I wish you barbarians spoke a civilized tongue!’

 

 

The girl sat astride Jimmy, with her toga pulled down around her waist. Jimmy was drunk on drugged wine and trying to keep his wits, but the combination of narcotics, alcohol, and a young, healthy, half-naked woman attempting to have sex with him was making it difficult for him to keep his focus. It was all he could do to pretend he didn’t understand her language.

 

At some point Jimmy got the impression that Iivia was furious with him for not having tried to make love to her on their last visit. He was certain that was more for the lost opportunity of rejecting him than for any lust for him, but given how temperamental this Quegan lady was, Jimmy couldn’t be sure. At the present it was clear that she was trying to prove a different point to him, one which seemed to involve a lot of slapping, some biting, and a lot of promises that he would never be able to make love to another woman after having Livia. In a semi-comatose state, Jimmy fervently hoped the last was not true. Though the way she was jumping up and down on him made him think there might be enough permanent damage to prevent him from being interested in testing the claim for some time to come.

 

He said, ‘Enough!’ and tried to sit up, which got him another ringing slap across the face. As tears came to his eyes, Livia started tearing his clothing off.

 

Somewhere along the way he remembered getting serious scratches on his back and buttocks, and at another point someone - a servant he thought - threw a bucket of very hot water on them, followed by one which was very cold. Then Livia was doing interesting things with a feather and a jelly made from gooseberries.

 

Finally, as they lay exhausted in each other’s arms, she mumbled something about never having known anyone like him. Jimmy never considered himself a lady’s man, for although he loved women and their company, having a grandmother who read minds taught a young man things about women few men even imagined. For years, every time he glanced at a comely wench with a lustful intent, his grandmother would drag him off for a lecture on his attitude toward women. It took a while, but he finally came to look upon women as friends and enemies, just like men, except when he was sleeping with them, when they were decidedly unlike men, for which he was eternally grateful.

 

This one was something outside his experience, however, and he wasn’t sure he welcomed any repeat of the experience. Knowing he’d been drugged, he had practiced some of the mental techniques taught him by his grandmother, and when the girl had started her questioning, he had started telling lies.

 

By now Jimmy was certain that when she and her father compared notes, the plan conceived by Jimmy’s grandfather would swing into motion. He tried not to laugh, for every part of him hurt too much to move. As he let sleep overtake him, he wondered how Dash was doing.

 

 

 

 

 

‘Ah, you’re a lying sack of dung, and a Kingdom dog to boot, and that’s a fact.’ The sailor looked at Dash with a challenge.

 

Dash stood up, dramatically swaying far more than was due to anything he had drunk. He had years before mastered the art of appearing to drink more than he had, and he could pass himself off as a drunk as well as any actor. The trick was to get a tiny bit of pepper or ale on your finger, rub your eyes, and get them red. His grandfather had taught him that trick. ‘No one calls me a liar!’ He glared at the Quegan sailor. ‘I told you I saw it! With me own eyes!’ He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘And I can tell you when and where, too.’

 

‘When and where what?’ asked another of the card players.

 

Dash had returned to the dockside tavern he had visited on their last voyage to Queg - where he had established his identity as a Kingdom sailor with a night off - and had entered a friendly game of Pashawa. After winning a little and losing a little, he had started to win, just enough to keep people paying attention to him.

 

Finally a couple of local card sharks had shown up and asked to join the game. As he expected. Dash was offered round after round of drink, in the hope his card sense would be dulled.

 

He accommodated them, and lost enough money to keep them around, then won back enough to keep them interested. While he played, he talked.

 

‘Like I told you: my father sailed with Prince Nicholas and Amos Trask himself! He was the first to reach the land across the Endless Sea.’

 

‘There is no such place,’ scoffed a Quegan sailor.

 

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