“Spatelli!” The screeching, auburn haired sell-sword looked magnificent but now was not the time to tell her that. “You told me you were going to get Tarrascotti for this job. What happened?”
The thief looked apologetic. “I found him where he overwintered in a Trideian manse, but his wives drove me off. I’m sorry Liana, but Capalini was who I could get.”
Liana Fieri glared with hatred at the drui grinning at her from table in the corner of the room. “So what happened to the priest of Aschaer?” She flipped a glance at the priest of Lunifer sitting next to Capalini. The pale haired, wan man hunched further over his drink as if to avoid the woman’s anger. Beside him the drui leaned back against the wall and grinned.
“The war priests had no-one to spare in any of the temples I asked at,” Spatelli held up his hands in a defensive gesture, “but in Liancre they recommended this Giuffre guy. Apparently he’s a good man in a tight corner and he’s a dab hand at bringing light into dark places.”
“Priests of Aschaer said that about him?” Liana seemed to be at least temporarily defused and looked at the pale priest quizzically. “Are you sure it’s him they were talking about? He looks like we should be taking him somewhere to be nursed back to health rather than on an expedition.”
“Liana,” protested Spatelli, “he can probably hear you from over there. Besides, haven’t you noticed? All priests of Lunifer look like that.”
“Can’t say I’ve met enough of them to notice,” admitted Liana. “So, now you’ve got a team together, are you going to spill the beans on this job?”
“Come and sit down with the others,” coaxed Spatelli. “I don’t want to have to go through this more than once.”
“Alright.” It was a grudging concession and the sell-sword stalked over to the table, then took the seat opposite Capalini so she wouldn’t have to sit next to him.
As she settled herself in the chair Capalini cocked an eyebrow at her. “So, we’re working together again, are we?”
“Apparently.” Her reply was stiff and cold.
Capalini flicked a silver coin tumbling up through the air to come down in front of the priest, who caught it with astonishing skill. “What’s this for?” Giuffre sounded surprised as he checked the denomination.
“Whatever you do with charitable donations, holy father,” Capalini gave an impudent grin. “It behoves me to be generous to the gods today because, apparently, hell has frozen over,” and he gave a little seated half-bow to Liana.
In her hands the wooden trencher Capalini had emptied of its olives as she crossed the room snapped in half.