He swirled the small glass beneath his nose, careful not to breath too deeply. As a force of habit, he locked the back of his throat and expelled what he had breathed in with a strong flush of his nostrils.
“It doesn’t smell like anything.” He said. His tone was flat, giving away nothing of his emotions; not pleasure nor displeasure.
Coleman led his new acquaintance to a nearby table. It was rustic, made from a retired whiskey barrel now used as a table for taste and testing. Neither man would be tasting what was in the small glass all though their chosen location for rendezvous was the perfect rouse. No one would have any reason for suspicion-men sniffing tinted liquid from tiny glasses.
Coleman smiled. “Well that is the point, isn’t? It is completely odorless. Not even a Senior Warden could detect it. Its perfect for your,” He waved his hand around in the air, slowly, as if that would summon the right word for Mr. Harks’ business venture.
Mr. Harks spoke before Coleman could finish his clever line. “Are you sure?” His pale grey eyes were suddenly threatening.
Coleman had no doubt that Mr. Harks would not hesitate in killing him should things not go as planned…if he could. His smile broadened as he watched the imaginary image play out in Mr. Harks’s mind. Mr. Harks would try and make him drink not just the tiny glass but the entire stock of–
“What do you call this, anyway?”
“Bouillon.” Coleman’s smile fell. He didn’t like being interrupted. Strange how he couldn’t manage to see that coming whenever he was in conversation. In fairness to himself, he reasoned that he although he could see into the minds of others, he could not foretell the future. No one could do that. People in Earth Realm had tried to do so, but everyone in the Cluster knew better.
“How much of this Bouillon will I need in order to get Drogo out of the Realm of the Trident?”
Coleman’s eyes widened. Had he heard correctly? “Drogo? Humphrey “Drogo” Dale?”
Mr. Harks’ lip twitched as if he were fighting off the urge to snarl. “Yes, Humphrey “Drogo” Dale. Is there a problem?”
Reading through the mass of darkness that shot through Mr. Marks’ imagination, Coleman smiled again. The man was an animal. He didn’t care for animals even the ones who paid him. “No problem at all. Its none of my business what you do with Bouillon once it is in your possession.” He stood ready to make a beeline for the door. The sooner he was away from Mr. Harks the better.
Making money was one thing, making a disastrous mess was another and Humphrey “Drogo” Dale was far and beyond both.
Convincing Mr. Harks that it was best they hold off on plans was going to be a difficult problem, one he would solve later. At least three Senior Wardens were heading towards the Distillery. They were looking for someone else, but it was best Coleman not make himself into their consolation prize.
“I will be in touch,” He said looking towards the dock exit, without another word he took the Bullion and slipped out of sight.
THE END…FOR NOW 🙂
Yet again, a story that I didn’t even know I would be writing, has given its self life via a free flow write. This story will be a sequel to a novel that I wrote (need to finish editing and revisions.) three years ago called Warden. I am really excited about the book. I actually feel like it is one of the best pieces that I have done thus far. Why? I wrote it from start to finish in 96 days. The plot has a cohesive flow and even thought. The characters are solid and it was such an enjoyable story to tell. References in this free flow write come from that story; Trident, Senior Wardens, the Cluster. I shall keep you all posted as to when Warden will be out AND I will even consider posting a few chapters for you to read through in the future!