"His kingdom secured, the good King Sinbad had now the pleasant and honorable duty of surrounding himself with wise counsel," Sinbad proclaimed, gesturing to the outside world. In the course of his story he had risen from the table, traveling to the window as the wiseman and the prince in hiding had travelled to their distant kingdom. "This next part of the story gets pretty interesting too, because we get to expand our cast of characters and-"
"A question-" the man interrupted. "Does spewing so much shit make your mouth taste like a horse's ass?"
Sinbad jolted from his storytelling and whipped around to see the man had finally taken a seat at the table. He stared at Sinbad, lips poised on the edge of a cup of wine, and a single pale brow arched, waiting. Sinbad crossed his arms (or did his best, given the shackles.) "Usually people love that one."
"People have terrible taste." The man took a drink from his cup and grimaced. "Much like this wine."
"Sinbad laughed a little. "It really has a lovely aftertaste, doesn't it? Like making love in a canoe on a river of piss. Which is to say-"
"Enough." The man once again had his weapon in hand. "I came here for a purpose."
"You're right!" Sinbad proclaimed. "But I never answered your question- No, my mouth does not taste like a horse's ass, call it a hunch that you're an agent of this kingdom, annnd…." he levelled a finger at the assassin. "You're enjoying hearing my tales."
The man said nothing, but the flash of a knife still twirled in his hand. Sinbad watched it as though it were a venomous snake. He'd already paced and assessed the room before this man had shown up. Two chairs, a table with wine and stale bread for a final meal, a chamberpot, and a crackling fire carefully secured behind a grate to keep him for escaping out a chimney or gaining a weapon from the burning embers. There wasn't even a pallet to lay down on, and the only way in or out was the door. The window was less there to afford a view and more a slender crack in the masonry for archers to shoot through in case of an attack. All in all, a poor, poor place to have a fight.
Not that he couldn't try, that was. He could fight. The chairs were heavy enough that they'd probably daze a man as slight as this one if Sinbad broke one over his head. The chamberpot was another option; it could be thrown, or the table upended. He might be able to throttle the man with his irons if he could get close enough.
Try. Probably. Might. If.
None were words worth betting on in a time like this. The man in front of him was sharp enough to have also run those gambits through by now. He knew any trick this room could afford, and before Sinbad could get close that flash of steel would snake through the air and strike him dead. No, fighting was no option at all. Sinbad could trust only in his first and chiefest weapon.
Words were a blade no man could take from him.
"If you knew my story was a lie," Sinbad said, "then why don't I tell you the real one?"
Something resembling a smile flashed across the man's face. "The real one? I didn't know you were capable of telling the whole truth."
Sinbad feigned shock, placing a hand upon his chest. "You wound me, sir! I intend to tell you the true tale, exactly as I first heard it."
"Aaah," said the man as Sinbad seated himself once more, this time straddling the chair. "Of course. You can tell me a true story as long as it's not about yourself."
Sinbad winked as he poured himself another drink. He could bear the taste of watery piss if it could give him something to calm his nerves. "Have you ever been to Kou, my friend?"
The man shook his head, and pressed his cup forward for more wine. Sinbad filled it as he spoke.
"Fantastical country. Very different from here. It was while I was there on business to trade goods from the northernmost land of Imuchakk for Kou silks and lacquerware that I first heard this one. When we made port, even our great ship seemed like a dinghy in comparison to the imperial treasure boats." He set the wine bottle down and began to gesture with his hands. "It was there, in a smoky gambling den, that I first heard the story I… shall we say, adapted to the one I just told you."
