The way he was looking at her made Yana think she had slipped up. Perhaps what she had said had been too blatant an attempt to mimic his style of constructing arguments –or what had to represent those—and he’d seen right through it. Perhaps it was something else, like her way of emoting or a subtle hint at her true feelings on the matter shining through her tone of voice.
As long as he took a swing of the stout though, none of that mattered.
As long as he drank, the poison would enter his system and destroy him from the inside out in a most painful manner, so she had been told.
Whether he would connect the dots between his predicament and this meeting wasn’t a concern either, as Rayna could simply disappear and be replaced by Saeri. Though she would need the mercenary angle to get a hold of the Ne’haerians, which was exactly why she’d chosen for a poison that would act rather slowly. If the information she’d received was correct, it would take about nine trials to kill a man, with the symptoms and devastation only setting in after a couple trials had passed.
It’d be more realistic to suspect the latest meal or drink than something that happened several trials ago. Well, not that he’d live to do so.
As long as he took a swig, that is.
“I don’t see what the relevance of that question to our discussion is,” she stated, though she supposed answering him was not really all that harmful. Even should he or his goons go digging into her past, it wasn’t too likely they’d find anything about her. The description of her the military had spread around to bounty hunters upon her desertion hadn’t mentioned a lost eye. True, they had the hair color and eye color listed correctly, but Yana had deliberately changed her hair to black upon her return as a precaution. Perhaps her name could be useful, but then again, she’d never given Gangui her last name, nor did he know the spelling of it.
Finding information on her would be harder than tracking her down.
“But no, I’ve not been in the military. I was a Black Guard, once upon a time. Too much corruption though, no chance to reform it from the inside. I’d hoped to make a difference from the outside, but--” she shrugged, “—there’s not much one can do on their own. Except for hunting down the crooks that deserve punishment.”
She eyed the wanted poster she’d placed next to her on the counter. “Though with the amount of posters that are part of a larger cover-up, there’s no telling what’s real and what’s fake.”
Yana took another swig of her stout, letting the bitter taste of the frothy liquid fill her mouth.
He continued on with his rants though, speaking more about depravity, liberty and what have you. Even Good and Evil were injected into the speech, probably to give his words a bit more weight.
The Turkey Commander placed his hand on her shoulder then, and Yana suppressed the urge to back up out of his reach or swat his hand away. Likewise, when he released her, the temptation to dust off the part where he’d grabbed her was great, but that too was stifled. It wasn’t the image she wanted to portray. Whether or not it’d insult him she didn’t know, but it was best not to take any chances, so she allowed him to put his paw on her body.
“Like I said,” she said, “there’s been a problem with corruption in the Guard. Many taking bribes from the wealthy or the crooked to … tie up loose ends. Wanted posters have always been easy to manipulate. Slip a fabricated order between the actual ones that go to the printer, with made-up crimes and accusations, and you’re golden. Before you know it,” she spoke, snapping her fingers, “there’s the face of an innocent man on every street, bounty and all. The Guard knows what they can and can’t get away with, so the posters are virtually identical to a real wanted poster. No way to tell if it’s fake or not. Hearing out the target doesn’t help. All criminals plead innocence. The Guard knows it’s too damn hard to figure out if a target is a criminal, yes or no, from the poster and the target’s testimony alone.” Yana frowned.
“But you seem like an honest man, Commander. I will chose to take your word for it, and hunt down this Cuckoo and bring him to justice. You’ll have him in chains, delivered at your doorstep, so a fair trial can be held.”
She nodded to herself and raised her mug to eye level, well aware Gangui had nothing but an empty goblet and a full mug of poisoned stout before him.
“To the Free Market,” she toasted.
As long as he took a swing of the stout though, none of that mattered.
As long as he drank, the poison would enter his system and destroy him from the inside out in a most painful manner, so she had been told.
Whether he would connect the dots between his predicament and this meeting wasn’t a concern either, as Rayna could simply disappear and be replaced by Saeri. Though she would need the mercenary angle to get a hold of the Ne’haerians, which was exactly why she’d chosen for a poison that would act rather slowly. If the information she’d received was correct, it would take about nine trials to kill a man, with the symptoms and devastation only setting in after a couple trials had passed.
It’d be more realistic to suspect the latest meal or drink than something that happened several trials ago. Well, not that he’d live to do so.
As long as he took a swig, that is.
“I don’t see what the relevance of that question to our discussion is,” she stated, though she supposed answering him was not really all that harmful. Even should he or his goons go digging into her past, it wasn’t too likely they’d find anything about her. The description of her the military had spread around to bounty hunters upon her desertion hadn’t mentioned a lost eye. True, they had the hair color and eye color listed correctly, but Yana had deliberately changed her hair to black upon her return as a precaution. Perhaps her name could be useful, but then again, she’d never given Gangui her last name, nor did he know the spelling of it.
Finding information on her would be harder than tracking her down.
“But no, I’ve not been in the military. I was a Black Guard, once upon a time. Too much corruption though, no chance to reform it from the inside. I’d hoped to make a difference from the outside, but--” she shrugged, “—there’s not much one can do on their own. Except for hunting down the crooks that deserve punishment.”
She eyed the wanted poster she’d placed next to her on the counter. “Though with the amount of posters that are part of a larger cover-up, there’s no telling what’s real and what’s fake.”
Yana took another swig of her stout, letting the bitter taste of the frothy liquid fill her mouth.
He continued on with his rants though, speaking more about depravity, liberty and what have you. Even Good and Evil were injected into the speech, probably to give his words a bit more weight.
The Turkey Commander placed his hand on her shoulder then, and Yana suppressed the urge to back up out of his reach or swat his hand away. Likewise, when he released her, the temptation to dust off the part where he’d grabbed her was great, but that too was stifled. It wasn’t the image she wanted to portray. Whether or not it’d insult him she didn’t know, but it was best not to take any chances, so she allowed him to put his paw on her body.
“Like I said,” she said, “there’s been a problem with corruption in the Guard. Many taking bribes from the wealthy or the crooked to … tie up loose ends. Wanted posters have always been easy to manipulate. Slip a fabricated order between the actual ones that go to the printer, with made-up crimes and accusations, and you’re golden. Before you know it,” she spoke, snapping her fingers, “there’s the face of an innocent man on every street, bounty and all. The Guard knows what they can and can’t get away with, so the posters are virtually identical to a real wanted poster. No way to tell if it’s fake or not. Hearing out the target doesn’t help. All criminals plead innocence. The Guard knows it’s too damn hard to figure out if a target is a criminal, yes or no, from the poster and the target’s testimony alone.” Yana frowned.
“But you seem like an honest man, Commander. I will chose to take your word for it, and hunt down this Cuckoo and bring him to justice. You’ll have him in chains, delivered at your doorstep, so a fair trial can be held.”
She nodded to herself and raised her mug to eye level, well aware Gangui had nothing but an empty goblet and a full mug of poisoned stout before him.
“To the Free Market,” she toasted.
