“Go away, little girl.” He said with no particular vigor.
Belle changed tactics and her tone. “I know why you're here.” she accused.
“Good for you.” He sounded bored.
“And who sent you.” The pale haired man looked up, alarmed, right into Belle's flashing emerald eyes. She bore into his icy stare with her own green fire. “Malick.” She finished.
“Yes.” He tried to look away but could not.
“Why?” She put force behind the question.
He winced. “To report back to him about the whore, Mara and you...”
“And...” Belle never blinked.
“...and tell Malick who is with her and for how long and where her money comes from.” Information began to pour from him. “Also to find out who handles transport here. I'm supposed to make contact with farmers around here who transport goods to Sellwood and convince them to use Malick's services by whatever means necessary. But I'm bored. All this watching and waiting and paying those thugs. Nothing ever happens in this little village and I don't know why he's so interested in the whore. She doesn't even wear the sash anymore and she consorts with those Demalions all the time...I just want to go home.”
Belle broke away and rolled her eyes, tired of his whining.
“What did you do to me?” He snarled clenching his fists and leaning forward as if to spring on the girl.
Abruptly, a blade flashed and was at his throat. Ragus crouched behind his chair with his long arm around the man's chest and a carved handled Demalion hunting knife poised at the throbbing vein in the man's neck.
Ragus' gentle features were hardened. His lips were pursed tight into a thin, grim line. His dark green eyes flashed black. Every muscle in his body was ready for attack. “You will leave this village and never return.” He hissed in the pale man's ear. “You will tell your master, Malick, that Lady Mara and all she loves are protected. Do you understand?” Ragus’ blade broke the skin on the man’s neck. A few drops of blood surfaced.