Pirne was close enough for Skandra to smell fish on his breath. You could catch fine trout in the winter waters which split and ruled these mountains. You could find it in the wood pit where such things were grilled. You could find it dried, salted and iced in the city. You could find it just about anywhere. Including on the captain's breath. Skandra was not raised in the way that most men were, with manners assailing him at every turn. Rules were simply things that you used for cover when you had to go somewhere. The rest of the time, you just did what you wanted. This was one such time. The future assured him that he would be remembered well, glib and bold, with a sword in one hand and a drink in the other. So Skandra proceeded down the only logical path.
"Fish for lunch, captain?" Skandra asked Pirne with a sudden and forceful sneer. "That's a poor man's meal. Unless you were just kissing your mother again."
Alvon's grip tightened as the fellow surged forward again. Cavras looked ready to draw steel. Good thing, Skandra thought, that Lethe had gone. This was going to get ugly if they let it. Skandra truly hoped that the stupid bastard would try something.
"One day, Tyullis," Pirne told him with a raised finger. "You won't have a prince around to hide behind."
"I can't wait.
"Neither can I."
"Now fuck off," Skandra commanded.
With a grimace and a sweep of his cape, Pirne was gone. Alvon said nothing - he only followed the fellow out. For a long moment Skandra wondered if he was doing more harm than good. That lasted only as long as it took him to remember the universal elixir.