Gior the Liar
“Everything I say is a lie,” Gior said, tossing his oily black hair and grinning into the fire. The orange light danced over his yellowed teeth and pock-marked skin. “It’s what I do.”
“I told you we shouldn’t trust him,” Gantt grumbled, his knuckles white along the hilt of his dagger. He had been fiercely opposed to Gior joining us and had taken every opportunity to voice his concerns. I sighed. Things were bad enough without having to extinguish every little spark that flew between the members of our party.
“Trust me?” Gior asked the fire and laughed. “My dear Gantt, I am as trustworthy as that blade you seem so keen to plunge into my eye. It’s all a matter of which end you hold, and the direction you point it in. So it is with Gior. A useful tool when handled in the correct manner.” He tittered and fluttered his fingertips together. I was certain that Gantt was going to end the little man’s life. I reached out and put one hand on Gantt’s shoulder with a soft look of warning. His eyes narrowed as they met mine, and I could only nod.
“He’s right,” I said, “and he’s the only one who can get us into the baron’s manse. After that he’ll have to prove his usefulness in other ways, or we’ll cut him free.” Gantt seemed to relax, catching my meaning: if Gior the Liar attempted any mischief against us once we entered the target’s domain it would be time for Gantt to find a home for his blade in the rogue’s heart.
First draft: 150101
Published: 230802