FOREVER KNIGHTS: #6 Malevolent Attentions
Amends with Savage Jack

Driter’s Den, Netherlands

It’d taken Alazareth several days to track the King of Assassins. He entered the Driter’s Den to replace it alive and crowded with assassins. As always.

Hearing Savage Jack’s robust voice booming through the small tavern, Alazar was relieved to finally replace him.

There you are. He drew a staying breath. And closed the door. A bit rough.

Drawing Savage Jack’s cunning gaze. “Ah.” He lifted a tankard in greeting. Not acknowledging Alazar by his assassin name. Professional courtesy, in case Alazareth didn’t want to be known here.

A matter of respect between fiends.

“You’re a hard man to replace.” Alazar declared with a nod.

“When I intend to be.”

Which is always.

“I waited for you at the Blue Lark.”

“Eh?” Savage sobered instantly. “How was it there?”

He couldn’t give two shits whose waiting on him where.

“I hear you haven’t been there in months.” Alazareth probed.

There were many loud guffaws.

What do they know? Perhaps the wrong question to ask.

“A bit longer than that, I’d wager.” Another man laughed.

Earning an amused glare from Savage Jack. “Many months.” He acknowledged.

“Your pretty redhead seemed disinclined to tell me of your whereabouts.”

“She’s disinclined to know my whereabouts.” He grunted. “Long as I’m not where she is.”

Sounds as though they’re on the outs.

“Going well then?”

Savage grunted again as he tipped up the tankard and took a long drink. “I’ll be heading back to my domain soon, whether she likes it or not.”

She usually doesn’t.

“She won’t!” Another man declared.

“She never does.” Savage grudgingly agreed. Lifting his drink again. “Care for a dram?”

He’s abnormally amicable. Something is going on…Alazar bobbed his head in a nod as he approached. Noting the whole bunch was quite intoxicated. Swaying precariously and speech slurred. Savage Jack had clearly been the center of the drinking party, but he still possessed his characteristic quick grace, indicating he’d still gut someone in an instant if they made a move on him. Well into his cups or not.

Another man, dressed in the smooth leather tunic and heavy cloak the assassins favored, watched from a distance. Leaning casually against a pillar with a wide brimmed hat pulled low. Observing the group.

Mainly, Savage Jack.

A potential rival or a bodyguard? Alazar wondered briefly. Savage Jack pointedly didn’t look in the man’s direction, and since Savage Jack never missed anything, it was clear he knew the man watching them.

Alazar shrugged. Not my business.

Savage Jack edged elbow to elbow with him at the bar. “What have you come for?”

The others instinctively gave them space.

They know better than to crowd the King of the Assassins whilst he does business.

“To make amends.”

“For?”

“Killing your assassins.”

Savage Jack straightened tipping his head back to look haughtily down his nose.

He’s not nearly drunk enough. Alazar felt himself tensing.

“You’ve killed another one.” Savage Jack said perceptively. Blue eyes slitting.

“An assassin yes. But I don’t think practiced enough, to be one of yours. Just a stray villager.”

“But you came to declare it to me nonetheless.”

“Yes.”

“Wise.” Savage relaxed, leaning back over his tankard as he turned the handle thoughtfully.

It’s not one of yours, so you don’t care. That’s something at least.