“Well, at least we’ve been paid this time.”

“Do you realize what our expenses have been? Replace at least one horse? Two thirds of our weapons gone and the expensive two thirds at that? A capital city is not the best place for good prices. And now we’re to buy passage on a ship at the height of the season?” Dhulyn stopped, her fingers tapping out a now familiar rhythm on the railing. “Did Dorian say the ship leaves at dawn?”

“What of it?”

She gestured at the carpentry work around them. “We can’t sleep here, so that means an inn, and where there’s an inn there’s a taproom…”

“And where there’s a taproom there’s gamblers. Do you think they’ll let you use your own tiles?”

Violette Malan

Violette Malan lives in a nineteenth-century limestone farmhouse in southeastern Ontario with her husband. Born in Canada, Violette’s cultural background is half Spanish and half Polish, which makes it interesting at meal times. She has worked as a teacher of creative writing, English as a second language, Spanish, beginner’s French, and choreography for strippers. On occasion she’s been an administrative assistant and a carpenter’s helper. Her most unusual job was translating letters between lovers, one of whom spoke only English, the other only Spanish.

Visit Violette’s website: www.violettemalan.com.