“Mudviper? What are you doing here, you’re sick.”
“I’m a damn sight better than I was when Razor paid me a visit. Corvus, what the hell did you do, from half his questions it sounds like he’s actually thinking of you over Grey-maw.”
“Well, it was your idea to recommend me!”
“I stand by that,” she coughs. “I just didn’t expect him to agree. So I wanted your read on the situation.”
“You didn’t have to come rushing out of your sickbed to tell me that!”
“Actually, I’m headed to my quarters. This was just on the way – and if you’re wondering how I knew you were here, Crosswinds told me. I’ll get to bed once I’ve heard your thoughts.”
You know you can’t win this argument. Best to get this done quickly.
“He talked to me just a little while ago. Seemed interested in the desert fever, then he asked what was up with the prisoner I questioned escaping. But now it turns out a different prisoner escaped… the one-armed kid, the one he didn’t want you talking to.”
Hang on, now. You thought Razor might have snuck Marshall away for questioning, but if that was it… why would he ask you about the prisoner you’d interrogated instead of the one who’s actually missing?
Maybe Shorty will be able to clear things up when he gets back.
“Corvus? What is it?” Mudviper asks. “You’ve gotten quiet.”
“Just, got some thoughts to sort through. Anyhow, Razor said he wants to talk to me later at dinner. For what that’s worth. That’s all I can add to what you’ve said.”
“And what do you think he’s up to? I know that man, he’s always up to something.”
You’d better give her an answer, so she leaves and gets some much-needed rest.
he’s trying to get a read on me and all else is pretend