The Heresy Within by Rob J. Hayes Page A

waved at the serving girl to bring a mug over and flipped a bronze bit her way. She caught it in her hand and bit it to make sure it was real before sauntering off to fill a mug.
    “You boys not too drunk I hope,” the Boss said.
    “Take more 'an a cheap bottle o' spirits fer that,” Betrim insisted.
    “Didn't touch the booze, Boss,” Swift said, grinning.
    “What about the smoke?”
    “Didn't touch the booze, Boss,” Swift repeated, still grinning.
    The serving girl arrived with Betrim's beer and he took a large gulp. Tasted like watered down piss but beer always did in the wilds. Betrim couldn't remember the last time he had a good strong beer. Probably last time he attended one of those fancy blooded folk's parties which would put it somewhere around never.
    “How come you two didn't come get yaselfs a whore?” Green asked pointing at Bones and the Boss. “Ya do like women right?”
    “Oh I'd love ta,” Bones said. “Unfortunately my wife says if I go around whorin' she'll know an' she'll chop my stones off.”
    “You married?” Green exclaimed in a loud voice. Seemed he'd had a bit too much drink or smoke or both. “Where is the bitch?”
    “Fuck knows. As far away from me as possible I hope.”
    “Oh right. What 'bout you, Boss?”
    Everyone at the table just stared at Green. Well, everyone but Henry who broke into loud, vicious laughter. The boy would figure it out at some point. Maybe after he heard them going at it. Betrim had been in battles quieter than those two fucking.
    “Fancy makin' some money, Bones?” Betrim asked the big man.
    Bones looked around the common room. “Reckon we can squeeze a few bits out o' this crowd.”
    Betrim and Bones moved down the table a ways and Swift followed to look after the purses. He wouldn't steal from either of them; he knew better, but they'd be other purses involved in no time and there weren't quicker fingers in all the wilds than Swift when it came to relieving purses of some of their weight.
    Both men slapped their purses down on the table and that got the attention they were looking for. Nothing pulled gazes in the wilds like the metallic clink of bits. So Betrim put his elbow on the table and raised his hand and opposite him Bones did the same. They clasped hands and on Swift's count of three they started pushing. Arm wrestling against Bones was a lot like pissing into the wind; a pointless exercise that was only going to leave you worse for wear, but the giant went easy on Betrim. That was the entire point after all. Make it look like a smaller man had a chance and then pull it back from the brink and win and Bones did so with a dramatic flair and whoop of joy when he won.
    Swift handed both purses to Bones and Betrim made a show beating the table with his fist before stalking off to the others. He knew he'd get his purse back later with interest.
    “Have ya ever seen such a manly display?” Henry mocked him.
    “Fuck you, crazy bitch,” Betrim replied. That earned him a dark look set above a hungry grin. He gave her a shove and the grin turned into a smile. It was rare that Henry smiled but when she did Betrim got the impression she might have been pretty if she wasn't such a murderous little imp.
    “Ten bronze bits or one silver bit fer a try against the giant.” Swift was saying to a big man with tree trunks for arms who had sat down opposite Bones.
    The walking tree slapped down a single silver bit which Swift scooped up and Bones had the good graces to look worried at least. He gave the walking tree a brief glimpse of victory before felling him hard enough to shatter the man's hand. The tree walked away swearing blind and rubbing his hand. Another man sat down for the challenge then another and another.
    “Everythin' good, Boss?” Betrim asked. Dark eyes raised and met his and the Boss shook his head.
    “Got a drop house in town. Get all sorts of messages left there. We got good news an' bad. Good news is I got us another job. A big