Unless he was deliberately showing himself to lay a false trail. Or had the fool gone to that inn hoping to strike a bargain?

“This merchant. He was sure about the rest of it?”

The guard shifted his feet. He pressed his lips together. “It’s hard to mistake that one for any other.”

A chill started in Krelis’s lower back and crept up his spine. “Yes, it is.” Hell’s fire, he needed a drink! “Your diligence to your duty is highly commendable, Warlord. You may be certain I’ll keep it in mind. Inform Lord Maryk that his presence is required.” Krelis gestured toward the door.

Accepting the dismissal, the guard bowed and left.

Krelis called in a bottle of brandy, but Maryk knocked on the door before he could consume enough of it to settle his nerves. Smothering a curse, he vanished the bottle, and snapped, “Come in!”

“Lord Krelis.”

Maryk’s bland expression was a subtle insult, but he hadn’t been able to completely extinguish the contempt from his eyes.

“I’ve received some information about the little bitch-Queen who’s been such an annoyance to the High Priestess,” Krelis said. “I’m going to look into it personally. Until I return, you’re in charge. If the High Priestess summons, you’ll have to answer her.”

Maryk swallowed carefully. They both knew what could happen to males when Dorothea was annoyed.

“I understand, Lord Krelis. Is there anything that will require special attention?”

Krelis shook his head. “You have the assignment roster. I’ve been informed of nothing else.”

“Then, may the Darkness grant you a safe and speedy journey.”

Yes, Krelis thought, as Maryk escorted him to the landing place. The guards—especially the First Circle guards—might despise him, but they’d rather have him standing between them and the High Priestess of Hayll than nothing at all.

And not one of them would envy him this journey.

Krelis didn’t bother to knock before he opened the door of the small receiving room. Men didn’t have to extend any kind of courtesy to pleasure slaves. Even this one. Besides, he’d already used up his courtesy on the pouty Queen who ruled this forsaken Province. Hell’s fire! What had the High Priestess been thinking of to loan the Sadist to a witch who’d had half of her brains bred out of her?

Daemon Sadi stood with his back to the door, looking out a window.

Krelis closed the door hard enough to make anyone else jump. Daemon didn’t even twitch.

“Sadi,” Krelis said, coming into the room far enough to see the beautiful face in profile.

“Lord Krelis.”

The boredom in that deep voice grated on Krelis’s nerves. That Sadi didn’t bother to look at him grated even more.

Krelis’s hands curled into fists. “Do you know why I’m here?”

“No.”

If Sadi’s voice and face were any gauge to measure by, he also didn’t care.

“It seems your Lady grants you a lot of liberties,” Krelis said.

“She has a low threshold for pain.”