The Real Fear

Coyok kept looking aggressively at Fenrir who was preparing the ground to welcome the mercenaries he was hunting properly. The fellow couldn't put it into words, but watching Fenrir cheerfully and listening to him hum as if he were making crafts and not ambushing assassins made Coyok feel sick with every second more rage than possible. That swindler would tell Kalishar every so often what she should do to help him get everything arranged, for some reason that fellow of dubious morals and honor would not ask Coyok for help even though he had come willingly to participate.

‘You don't trust him, do you?’ the girl asked her companion without missing a chance.

‘I should trust him? Don't get me wrong, I'm fine with him coming to help, but I know he's doing it for his kingdom, not for me or my acquaintances. If I have to gamble, he will do me something that will be no better than any minor scam run by me if he sees an opportunity.

‘And yet you are letting him be around.’