“I don’t have much on me,” Marc said. “I couldn’t afford to spend the night at an auberge.”
“You’re rather well fed for a pauper,” the rogue said.
“I never said that I was,” Marc countered. “I have salt pork and bread along with some coin…”
He let his leather pouches drop to the ground as a show of good faith. The man was about twelve paces away, so Marc needed to be ready.
“You’re hiding something—”
“What would I have to hide?”
Disclaimer: This excerpt from Man of War is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
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