The Colour of Vengeance Read Online Free PDF Page A

shrivelled from the heat and the sun.
    With a snort at his own stupidity Betrim spat into the street. A few folk turned to look at him with expressions of disgust then averted their gazes and hurried away. Took a moment for Betrim to realise it was because he was wearing an Arbiter's coat. With a horrific grin Betrim sauntered off towards, well, truth was he had no idea where he was going just as far away from the Inquisition as possible.
    A couple of hours later Betrim found himself well and truly lost and sitting on the edge of one of the hundreds of canals that ran throughout the city of Sarth. The sun bounced off of the clear water and sent shards of piercing translucent light shooting in all directions. Truth was it felt all sorts of good just to see sunlight again, even if it was only with the one eye.
    Betrim dangled his bare feet in the water of the canal and wriggled all his nine toes. Tiny little fish came to investigate, darting forwards and nibbling then swimming away. Of course the Black Thorn knew all too well that water could hold more than just little fish. All sorts of dangers were known to hide beneath the surface and even here, where Betrim could see the bottom of the canal, you could never be too cautious. He was just about to pull his feet out of the water and move away so nothing could come up from the depths and eat him when he spotted a fair number of people watching him. The folk looked away whenever he met their gaze but they had been looking and no mistake. Chances were it was just they weren't used to seeing an Arbiter with such an ugly face, or one dipping his feet in the blue waters of the canals. Either way it stopped Betrim from leaving, last thing the Black Thorn ever did was show fear to anyone.
    There was a polite cough from behind and Betrim turned his head to see a tall, bookish man standing there, his gaze rooted on the stone floor in front of him. He looked to be middle-aged with hair that was both greying and thinning all at once. An unfortunate appearance if ever Betrim had seen one. “Are you in need of any assistance, Arbiter...”
    Betrim narrowed his eye at the man. “Don't reckon I know you.”
    “I am clerk Golgen, Arbiter,” said the bookish-man with the thin hair. His teeth were crooked but he had a full set.
    “Aye, an' I look like I need help...”
    “No... I... uh... I just mean...”
    Betrim realised he was still speaking in his normal wilds' drawl. Arbiters tended to speak all posh, just like Thanquil had.
    “You jus...t mean it is a little strange ta... to see a Arbiter sat by a canal,” Betrim said, trying his best to mimic the Sarth accent and instead murdering it.
    The clerk looked confused and a little worried. He glanced around, looking for support. Betrim felt it best to get rid of the man before he got suspicious.
    “As it happens I do seem... appear ta... to be a little lost. Don't tend ta come back here much. I'm a... wandering Arbiter.” Betrim remembered that was what Thanquil had called himself. “Do you know where...” He paused, realising if he asked the clerk a question it would give him away. “I'm lookin' fer... for the docks.”
    The clerk was now staring at Betrim with his mouth open. Betrim got to his feet and stepped close to the man. Despite his wasted muscles and the shakes he could feel starting in his legs, the Black Thorn towered over the clerk and he had no doubt his face made for a real imposing sight. After a couple of moments the clerk lowered his gaze and pointed along the canal.
    “If you follow this canal it will lead you to the docks, Arbiter... Would you... um... like me to show...”
    “That'll be all, clerk... uh...”
    “Golgen.”
    “Clerk Golden. You can go now, eh.”
    The clerk nodded once and then span, almost tripping over his feet as he scrambled to get away from Thorn. Betrim shook his head and decided he needed to ditch the Arbiter coat at the first opportunity. He also needed some new clothing, and some food,