That said, here's where we are:
Reunited with their companion, Broo Fang Tane, the freelance historian Esmiralda and Seymuhr, the odd brawler known as Skullsquasher, resume their journey to the palace in Veral Ski, where they would report to Queen Phedora on the death o their companion, Merrick, a leader in the mysterious Ministry of Human Preservation....
"You bear his symbol, no?" He pointed at the Ministry of Human Preservation bauble that I had showed the guard at the inner gate. I cursed myself for not hiding it better, or realizing it may have been personalized in some way. I had assumed that every member of the secret cult wore or carried the same sigil. "He would not give that up. Not while he lived."
"Alas, he does not." I felt a strange weariness when I uttered those words, as if speaking them recalled the sadness of his passing once more. "But I was not his enemy--nor were these men, here--we were traveling companions, I guess you would say. Friends."
It was his turn to look me up and down. I could see he wasn't impressed, either. "Never did agree with his taste in women," he mumbled. "I ask you again. What brings you here? And what became of him?"
I gestured to an empty table. "Can we sit?"
"It doesn't look like sitting would be the problem," Seymuhr put in, "but I'd place wagers on whether he could get back to his feet." He leaned back, arms crossed, a faint smile on his face.
The fat man's face flushed red and he lumbered forward. "You dare insult me?"
Seymuhr nodded with enthusiasm. "Dare? How could I not?"
"Please, please," I stepped between them, cringing because I half-expected to be struck down. "We are all friends here, though we don't realize it yet. Please sir, I offer my sincere condolences for your brother. He was a good man, a keen wit and he'll be missed."
Near the bar, Tane sat slumped over an empty bowl. Another man, snickering, crept up behind him and stuck his pinky in his mouth. He looked over his shoulder at his companions, who chuckled and urged him on. He moved the digit around in his mouth and pulled it out, gleaming with spit, then jabbed the soaked finger into Tane's ear and twisted it.
"Oh. Bones of Barnok," I breathed. "You thrice-cursed fool, you've killed us all!"
But Tane did not react, other than to pull his hand out of his sleeve and use his shirt to dry his ear. I exhaled.
"Let us speak of it. And quickly. My companion is not known for holding his temper."
"That he is not!" Damp pinky shouted. He stood directly behind Tane. "I know you. You'd be Broo Fang Tane, is that right? A monk of the Order of Optimists?"
Tane nodded, but did not turn to face his questioner.
"You killed my sister and seven of her friends because she wiped her nose on your sleeve." He leaned in close. My heart hammered. "Do you remember her?"
Tane did not answer, but Seymuhr did. "Oh. I remember that." He rocked back on his heels, stroking his chin with one eye half-closed as if he were a maedrum thinking up a new spell or trying to solve an ancient riddle. "Your sister: she drooled a lot, isn't that right? Like a creek flowing from a dirty hole in the ground?"
The man gaped at Seymuhr. Then his mouth quivered as he tried to formulate an answer.
"You remember that one, don't you Tane? You slapped her so hard all her fleas jumped off," Seymuhr chortled, amused by his own words.
"Please," I held up my hands. "Good sir, I am sorry for your loss and regret any part my comrade may have played in it. It is a terrible sadness, I am sure, but nothing we do here today can bring your sister back to us--and there's no reason to send half a dozen more souls to keep her company."
"Perhaps not," the man, his face still red as a fresh scab, admitted. Perhaps Seymuhr's thick, muscular form dissuaded him from pursing any violent action. "But I will still have my justice. I miss my sister."
"So do I," Seymuhr agreed with another chuckle. "She was not as much fun as your mother, but..."
The man howled in rage and rushed Seymuhr, who stood his ground and knocked him to the floor with a swift punch. He fell flat, arms outstretched, and moved no more.
"What is wrong with you? You'll have the city Shield upon us any minute!"
He shrugged and gestured to Tane. "I don't think so. This man will live with a bruise to his chin and pride. It is better than the alternative."
I blinked. Tane still hadn't turned around, so he didn't see the look that passed between Seymuhr and I. It was true, when Tane's temper got the better of him, he caused more carnage than an angry bull in an orphanage. Seeing how quickly Seymuhr had knocked Tane's accuser senseless, everyone else in the tavern had returned to their seats, glancing only occasionally in our direction. Maybe he had saved some lives.
"Well. Perhaps. Still, we should be gone before he wakes; already our errand has been delayed far too long." I turned from the prone man and back to fat man who had accosted me. "Now, about your brother..."
