Bacoj’s fork
clattered against his plate. He set it down. “We should go home. If Karil can’t
go to Kalquor, that’s where we need to be.”
“That’s a shame.
Dantovon doesn’t refund vacations if they’re not at fault for your stay going
poorly.” Japohn paused, appearing unsure of himself for a change. When he spoke
again, he did so haltingly. “If you want, I don’t mind sticking close so you
two can stay and have fun.”
“Oh. Well, I’d hate
for us to infringe on your holiday.” Bacoj scrambled, trying to figure out how
he felt about such a suggestion.
“You wouldn’t be.
I’m here on my own. I have no real plans except to relax and enjoy a brothel or
two, some shows, and a little light betting before I’m off to fight the war.
It’ll be more fun to hang out with you guys. Especially if I meet up with that
junkie again. I didn’t pound on him nearly enough for my tastes.” The words
came out in a rush, the Nobek’s expression growing hopeful, especially with Vax
beaming at him.
Bacoj’s uncertainty
fled as he saw the ramifications of the offer. He was grateful to Japohn for
saving them—they’d be dead if he hadn’t intervened. But this wasn’t the time to
become entangled with a Nobek who obviously wanted to be considered as clanmate
material. Not when Bacoj hadn’t yet won the Imdiko too perfect to lose.
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