Steelhands (2011) Read Online Free Page B

stated this was one of many situations wherein she would welcome the aid of a knight in shining armor. A
real
fiancé, so to speak—perhaps one of those large, statuesque men we’d seen upon arriving, the heroes of the war, with broad shoulders and square chins.
    Unfortunately, all she had was me, and I wasn’t about to get any closer to that man than I was already standing at present. I reached up to adjust my scarf, pulling it over my mouth and nose to keep out the smell.
    “Skinny little weed like that won’t be much help at all,” Old Drake tsked. He still hadn’t put down Laure’s bag, and I was beginning to wish I’d learned how to recognize a Provost man when I saw one in the street. Did they wear uniforms, I wondered, or were they merely meant to appear in a time of need, like children’s guardian magicians? If one were to rescue us now, it would be very noble indeed. “No,
my lady
, I’m afraid I
am
going to have to insist you come along with me. ’Twouldn’t be chivalized otherwise.”
    “I
think
you mean chivalrous,” I said, so that at least Laure wouldn’t be able to say I’d done nothing when we were making our claim to the Provost.
    I supposed one couldn’t expect
every
city adventure to be a pleasant one.
    “Excuse me,” said another stranger, and my heart positively leapt into my throat. If this was one of Old Drake’s counterparts or cronies, we were absolutely sunk. I was of no use at all in a fistfight, and Laure could only handle one grown man at best,
perhaps
two, but the latter was only if she had a weapon of some sort. There was nothing available save for me and a few hats, and all the beautiful passersby I had been admiring were ignoring us as though we were invisible. It was possible this kind of shakedown occurred all the time.
    In short, we were royally fucked—a delicious and outrageous phrase I’d heard upon our arrival in the city though not one I could see myself
uttering
anytime soon.
    I squinted into the sharp wind, prepared for the very worst. But what I saw was not at
all
what I’d been expecting. When I described it later in my journal—and I surely would, with a colorful flourish here and there to make sure I never forgot
exactly
how it all happened—I would have to express how
remarkably
it seemed to be one of the statues from the square come to life. The terror of the Cobalts, a real-live member of Thremedon’s Dragon Corps, arriving on the scene to rescue us from being taken for a ride like your average pair of country bumpkins.
    Then the wind forced me to blink and I realized it wasn’t a statue, but rather a man of flesh and blood. He was young and blond and rather large, which explained my earlier mistake. And, it seemed, he was staring at me with an expression of quiet puzzlement.
    “I’m sorry,” he said, turning to Laure, “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I only saw the pair of you standing here and I thought I’d come over.”
    “No harm done,” said Old Drake, setting Laure’s bag back down at her feet. However tempting a catch we might’ve been before—a deceptively peaceful young woman and myself, posing no real physical threat—this newcomer was clearly a discouragement to whatever Old Drake had planned for us. “Welcome to the three ladies, and here’s hoping your visit’s a prosperous one.”
    He offered a funny little bow and a tip of his hat—the threads at the top had come undone and it flapped like an ugly, open mouth—and melted back into the crowd. At last, I felt the ice in my chest begin to thaw, even if the rest of me was still
quite
chilled.
    “Are you heading toward the ’Versity?” asked our savior, pushing hishair from his eyes. He was wearing thick woolen gloves of an unassuming gray that matched his eyes, and his winter coat had clearly seen better days, but he was also divinely handsome.
He
could have comfortably worn anything in the milliner’s shop and still carried it off marvelously.
    Some people