Styrm initially registered the impact with relief, followed closely by concern, then a dawning awareness of the suddenly charged atmosphere in the room. "'At'll be all th'hurtin' I'm lookin' t'do tonight," he said to the agitated crowd as he walked over to the boy clutching his face on the floor. The roegadyn clutching the boy's torn shirt stepped between the two. "Ye'll not be wantin' t'fight me jus' now, laddie," Styrm intoned. "Any other night we'll scuffle friendly, but this night I've no more time fer breakin' bones."
The other roegadyn stepped aside.
Styrm stooped to grab the boy and lifted him to his feet. Huge hands grasping him half for support, half for containment, he helped the disoriented Brindle stumble outside and around the corner. He sat him down against barrels and boxes and proffered him a rag.
"I've no stomach fer hurtin' young'uns, but yer enviable quick an' I've hasty need o' yer knowin'," he spoke, half an apology dangling from his words. "Now," he repeated, "what say we talk 'bout Kink?"
The other roegadyn stepped aside.
Styrm stooped to grab the boy and lifted him to his feet. Huge hands grasping him half for support, half for containment, he helped the disoriented Brindle stumble outside and around the corner. He sat him down against barrels and boxes and proffered him a rag.
"I've no stomach fer hurtin' young'uns, but yer enviable quick an' I've hasty need o' yer knowin'," he spoke, half an apology dangling from his words. "Now," he repeated, "what say we talk 'bout Kink?"
