that the comment bothered him.
“I was a chieftain. Germanic. We didn’t have a name. We didn’t need one.”
Leah’s brows lifted. Anso hadn’t told her his title, but she’d suspected royalty. Too bad she wasn’t a history aficionado. She’d know for certain what he spoke of.
“Were you a Teuton?”
“That is one of the names history has given us.”
“Really? Well...we used to gather our slaves from your tribes. Sold them in the caravan cities. Made a lot of gold.”
Whoa.
Athlerod’s comment was designed to get a negative reaction. It matched his stance, and his air of defiance. Her first impression had been wrong. The blonde fellow lacked maturity. He wasn’t near Anso’s age. She’d guess mid-twenties – at most. And it was growing obvious to her. He was suffering. She just didn’t know why, or what, or how deeply. Leah noted that Anso stiffened slightly at the insult. That was the only physical sign.
“I thought you were an Icelandic Viking,” he finally replied.
“Yeah. So?”
“Icelanders were not the scourge of the forest zones. It was the Swedes. We called them Rus .”
Oh! Cool. She hadn’t known that, either. She supposed that was how Russia got its name.
“Are you calling me a liar?”
Athlerod took a step away from his chair. Anso folded his arms as if he faced a selection of wares for purchase, not an arrogant, aggressive Viking in the prime of life. One, furthermore, who was obviously spoiling for a fight. Leah just couldn’t decide if he liked fighting and Anso was a distinct challenge, or if he suffered a Borderline Personality Disorder. That might explain why he was exhibiting such aggressive tendencies.
“No,” Anso replied.
“Are you that weak, old man?” Athlerod countered.
“You have a strange attitude for a youngster.”
“Young? Who are you calling young? I was turned in the year 985.”
“810,” Anso replied.
Oh. Brother . Looked like the pissing match was still on and happening.
“I can still take you.”
“Is that what you want? Another fight?”
“Well, at least this time I might have a challenge, although you are a lot older than I’m used to.”
Another insult?
Leah watched Anso absorb it, and then ignore it. A sense of pride swelled within her at watching him. That was ridiculous. The entire episode was. But, it fit perfectly with a delusion. Very little made sense until you listed things, sectioned them for analysis, and assigned reason. This particular delusion was going to take any psychologist’s entire career to figure out.
“Wasn’t your performance two nights past enough for you?” Anso finally asked with a nonchalant tone.
“You heard about that?”
“Why else would I be here?”
“You came because I won the Underground Fight?”
Anso chuckled. “I don’t care how many fights you start, Athlerod. I don’t even care how many you win. You’re a vampire. Winning against a human is a foregone conclusion.”
“I didn’t do it for the win.”
“Then, why did you do it?”
Athlerod lifted his sword toward Anso. Bent his knees slightly, and shuffled a step nearer. “I don’t have to answer that. Now. Get your sword out, old man.”
“We don’t have time for this.”
“You scared?”
“Not hardly.”
“Then why won’t you fight me?”
“I told you. We don’t have time. Now come.”
“You expect me to go with you without a fight?”
“Yes.”
“Forget it. You can just go back to Akron and tell him I’m not interested.”
“Akron didn’t send me.”
“Really? Then, who did?”
“Nigel.”
Athlerod looked surprised for a moment and then he started chuckling. It took a few moments before he sobered enough to explain. “Well. I can see why he didn’t come himself.”
“Really? Why?”
Athlerod gave Anso a deadpan expression. “He’s a pipsqueak. A large breath will knock him over.”
“He is running the desk.”
“Yeah. So? What is that supposed to mean? You think I’m afraid of
“I was a chieftain. Germanic. We didn’t have a name. We didn’t need one.”
Leah’s brows lifted. Anso hadn’t told her his title, but she’d suspected royalty. Too bad she wasn’t a history aficionado. She’d know for certain what he spoke of.
“Were you a Teuton?”
“That is one of the names history has given us.”
“Really? Well...we used to gather our slaves from your tribes. Sold them in the caravan cities. Made a lot of gold.”
Whoa.
Athlerod’s comment was designed to get a negative reaction. It matched his stance, and his air of defiance. Her first impression had been wrong. The blonde fellow lacked maturity. He wasn’t near Anso’s age. She’d guess mid-twenties – at most. And it was growing obvious to her. He was suffering. She just didn’t know why, or what, or how deeply. Leah noted that Anso stiffened slightly at the insult. That was the only physical sign.
“I thought you were an Icelandic Viking,” he finally replied.
“Yeah. So?”
“Icelanders were not the scourge of the forest zones. It was the Swedes. We called them Rus .”
Oh! Cool. She hadn’t known that, either. She supposed that was how Russia got its name.
“Are you calling me a liar?”
Athlerod took a step away from his chair. Anso folded his arms as if he faced a selection of wares for purchase, not an arrogant, aggressive Viking in the prime of life. One, furthermore, who was obviously spoiling for a fight. Leah just couldn’t decide if he liked fighting and Anso was a distinct challenge, or if he suffered a Borderline Personality Disorder. That might explain why he was exhibiting such aggressive tendencies.
“No,” Anso replied.
“Are you that weak, old man?” Athlerod countered.
“You have a strange attitude for a youngster.”
“Young? Who are you calling young? I was turned in the year 985.”
“810,” Anso replied.
Oh. Brother . Looked like the pissing match was still on and happening.
“I can still take you.”
“Is that what you want? Another fight?”
“Well, at least this time I might have a challenge, although you are a lot older than I’m used to.”
Another insult?
Leah watched Anso absorb it, and then ignore it. A sense of pride swelled within her at watching him. That was ridiculous. The entire episode was. But, it fit perfectly with a delusion. Very little made sense until you listed things, sectioned them for analysis, and assigned reason. This particular delusion was going to take any psychologist’s entire career to figure out.
“Wasn’t your performance two nights past enough for you?” Anso finally asked with a nonchalant tone.
“You heard about that?”
“Why else would I be here?”
“You came because I won the Underground Fight?”
Anso chuckled. “I don’t care how many fights you start, Athlerod. I don’t even care how many you win. You’re a vampire. Winning against a human is a foregone conclusion.”
“I didn’t do it for the win.”
“Then, why did you do it?”
Athlerod lifted his sword toward Anso. Bent his knees slightly, and shuffled a step nearer. “I don’t have to answer that. Now. Get your sword out, old man.”
“We don’t have time for this.”
“You scared?”
“Not hardly.”
“Then why won’t you fight me?”
“I told you. We don’t have time. Now come.”
“You expect me to go with you without a fight?”
“Yes.”
“Forget it. You can just go back to Akron and tell him I’m not interested.”
“Akron didn’t send me.”
“Really? Then, who did?”
“Nigel.”
Athlerod looked surprised for a moment and then he started chuckling. It took a few moments before he sobered enough to explain. “Well. I can see why he didn’t come himself.”
“Really? Why?”
Athlerod gave Anso a deadpan expression. “He’s a pipsqueak. A large breath will knock him over.”
“He is running the desk.”
“Yeah. So? What is that supposed to mean? You think I’m afraid of
Similar Books
