Laurent smiled. “Did you fight at Marlas?” Damen did not react to the smile, which was not authentic. The conversation was now on a knife edge. He said: “Yes.” “How many did you kill?” “I don’t know.” “Lost count?” Pleasantly, as one might inquire about the weather. Laurent said, “The barbarian won’t fuck boys. He prefers to wait a few years and then use a sword in place of his cock.” Damen flushed. “It was battle. There was death on both sides.” “Oh, yes. We killed a few of you, too. I would like to have killed more, but my uncle is unaccountably clement with vermin. You’ve met him.”
