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Chapter 12: Melee, Part 3

Tress laughed and altered their course, helped Rath over to a low bit of wall that framed the yard behind the gatehouse. "We can take a break. I don't know where you live, anyway."

"Butcher Street," Rath said and slumped against him, unable to stay upright. Everything hurt. "I may as well give up and turn myself in to Friar now."

"You're doing all this because of a friar?"

Rath snorted and sat up enough to give him a look. "Not a friar, the Friar." He sighed when Tress just gave him a baffled look. "He runs the pit fights and is in charge of most of the smuggling around here, a lot of the gambling pits, too."

"Oh, right."

Rath gave him an even more scathing look.

Tress smiled sheepishly. "All right, all right. I've never heard of him. I honestly didn't know there was one person in charge of that sort of thing. I, uh, don't leave the house much. My eldest brother says if it wasn't for sex, I'd never get my nose out of a book."