by Simon Hawke
Sorak glanced at some of the other dancers. Some of the women were gazing at her with obvious envy or resentment. Others watched her with open and undisguised lust. And those were just the women. She drove the men absolutely wild. Half a dozen were carried out as they tried to climb up on the stage, and the rest were shoving and elbowing each other, trying to get closer.
“She’s pulling out all the stops tonight,” said Tajik, shaking his head as he watched her dance. “If she doesn’t watch out, she’ll start a riot.”
The music reached a crescendo, though it was barely audible in the roar, and with a graceful flourish, Cricket finished and curtsied low, bowing to the crowd. Coins rained upon the stage. The overworked bouncers moved in to restore order, pushing the crowd back.
“A round of drinks for everyone, courtesy of the Desert Damsel!” the dwarf shouted, and he looked relived as everyone immediately surged toward the bar.
Cricket started picking up the coins. As she crouched by the lip of the stage, a hand snaked out and grabbed her by the wrist.
“How about a private dance, my lovely?” a powerfully built mercenary said.
“I do not perform private dances,” Cricket replied. “Please, let go.”
“Come on, now, I’ve already paid for the room.”
“Then ask one of the other girls,” said Cricket. “Now let me go.”
“You’re the one I want,” the mercenary insisted. “Now get down here.” And he yanked her right off the stage onto the floor.
At once, two bouncers moved in, but without letting go of Cricket’s wrist, the mercenary kicked out at the first one, breaking his knee, and smashed the second one in the jaw. Both men went down, the first one screaming with pain, the second unconscious.
Sorak started to rise from his stool, but felt Tajik’s hand on him. “Keep out of it,” the ferry captain said. “Turin pays these men well for their pains, and they know their business.”
Indeed, they seemed to, for even as Tajik spoke, Sorak saw three more bouncers move in, this time with three-foot agafari fighting sticks.
The brawny mercenary knew his business, too. He released Cricket, shoving her against the stage behind him and turned to meet the bouncers. As the first one came in with an overhanded blow of the fighting stick, the mercenary took it on crossed forearms, catching it on the muscle rather than bone, and then deftly wrenched the stick out of the bouncer’s grasp while kicking him in the groin. Without pause, he pivoted, sidestepped a blow from the second bouncer, and cracked the stick against the side of his head.
As the second bouncer went down, the mercenary quickly dropped to the floor and swept the third bouncer’s legs out from under him. He, too, fell, and the mercenary brought the heel of his booted foot down hard on the man’s throat, collapsing his larynx and trachea. The bouncer made a horrible gargling sound and thrashed several times, then choked on his own blood.
Moving swiftly and smoothly, the big mercenary got back to his feet, snatching up the third bouncer’s fighting stick as well, so that he now had one in each hand. Cricket tried to crawl away, but he saw her and hooked a stool with his foot, sending it crashing against the stage, just missing her. She cried out and stayed huddled where she was. Two more bouncers moved in, and by now the crowd had gathered round, watching and cheering the combatants.
The fighting sticks whirled in the mercenary’s hands as he met the two remaining bouncers and, moments later, both were lying senseless and bleeding on the floor.
The crowed cheered, and the mercenary dropped the sticks and turned back to Cricket. He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet.
Sorak got up off his stool, shaking off Tajik’s hand, and Ryana rose beside him.
“I’d say I’ve earned a lot more than just a private dance,” the big mercenary said. And as he turned to drag her upstairs, he found Kieran blocking his way, standing there with his arms folded across his chest.
Sorak paused, holding out his arm in front of Ryana. The crowd fell silent.
“You’re in my way,” the big mercenary said to Kieran.
“Yes, I suppose I am,” Kieran replied.
“Move.”
“I don’t believe I will.”
“Well, well,” the big mercenary said, derisively. “So you want to play the gallant, eh? You think the whore is worth it?”
“Oh, I’m not doing it for her,” said Kieran, casually. “I’m doing it for you.”
The big mercenary stared at him. “What?”
“It’s for the benefit of your education. You require a lesson in manners. You seem pretty good with those sticks. You want to find out just how good you are?”
The big mercenary grinned unpleasantly and shoved Cricket back to the floor, then picked up the two fighting sticks he’d dropped. “You’re the one who’s going to get a lesson,” he said with a sneer, as he twirled die fighting sticks in his hands.
Kieran bent to pick up one of the fighting sticks, but before he could grab a second one, the big mercenary moved quickly and kicked it away into the crowd.
“Kieran!” someone in the crowd shouted, and in the next instant, a fighting stick came sailing toward him.
Kieran snatched it out of the air and glanced to see who had thrown it. He spotted the man and nodded his thanks, then smiled.
“It’s been a few years,” he said. “The war with Urik, wasn’t it?”
Sorak saw Drom break out in a surprised grin.
Kieran looked down and experimentally hefted the sticks. “These really aren’t balanced very well,” he said, and in that moment, the big mercenary struck. Kieran raised his sticks, almost casually, without even seeming to look, and they moved in a rapid blur, with an accompanying rat-a-tat-tat of wood as he blocked the mercenary’s blows. The big man retreated quickly, and Kieran looked up, as if with surprise. “Oh, have we started?”
The big mercenary snarled and came back at him. The sticks moved so quickly it was almost impossible to make out the individual blows as both men struck and parried, crossing their arms in front of them as it they were batting away insects, and the clatter of the sticks against each other sounded like a rapid drum roll. Then they sprang apart as the crowd cheered in approval of the display.
“You’re good, I’ll give you that,” the big mercenary said grudgingly.
Kieran shrugged. “I’m a little out of practice.”
With a growl, the mercenary came at him again. There was a blur of sticks, a clattering tattoo of wood on wood, and then one of the mercenary’s sticks flew from his grasp. The big man sprang back, shaking his hand with pain.
“You dropped something,” Kieran said. He pointed with one of his sticks. “It’s over there. Go on, pick it up. I’ll wait.”
The mercenary stared at him with loathing, then went to pick up the dropped stick.
Kieran shrugged his shoulders several times, rolling them as if working out some kinks. “Bit stiff, but I think I’m starting to warm up.”
“You bastard,” the mercenary said, and moved in again. The sticks whirled, clattered, moving with blinding speed, and then there was the sharp crack of a stick on bone and the mercenary cried out and staggered, bringing one of his hands, still clutching the stick, up to the side of his head.
“Sorry,” Kieran said. “Clumsy of me.”
Roaring, the mercenary charged him. Kieran sidestepped the rush, simultaneously sweeping the mercenary’s legs out from under him and rapping quickly on his head as he fell.
“Watch out for that spilled ale,” he said. “It makes the floor slippery.”
Stunned, the mercenary slowly got back up to his feet, pure murder in his eyes. With a sudden motion, he hurled one of the sticks at Kieran, who raised both his sticks and, with a quick flourish, batted the missile away.
“You want to use just one?” he asked, then shrugged. “Suits me.” And he tossed one of his sticks away.
The mercenary screamed with rage and charged once again, bringing his stick down in a vicio
us, sweeping blow. Kieran parried with a circular motion and hooked his stick under the charging mercenary’s arm as he sidestepped and somehow the man was suddenly flipped and flying through the air. The crowd parted quickly as he landed on his back with a loud crash on a table, which broke under his weight. The crowd broke out in cheers and applause.
Kieran looked at the motionless figure of the mercenary for a moment, shrugged, and tossed his stick aside, then went over to Cricket and offered her a hand, helping her up. Turin came rushing up to them.
“Magnificent!” he said, effusively. “Truly magnificent! I have never seen anything like it! Whatever you wish, it’s on the house tonight! And I’m sure Cricket will be happy to give you a private dance in one of our comfortable rooms upstairs, won’t you, Cricket?”
“No, I won’t,” she said, firmly. “I quit!”
Turin chuckled awkwardly. “There, there, now, you’re upset, and I can certainly understand, under the circumstances, but this gentleman has just fought on your behalf and surely you wouldn’t be so ungrateful as to refuse him?”
“The lady owes me nothing,” Kieran said. “Scum like that give my profession a bad name. I acted on my own behalf.”
“Well, it is very gallant of you to say that,” Turin replied, “but I am certain once Cricket gets over her shock and has some time to think things over, she’ll want to be properly appreciative.”
“Do not misunderstand,” Cricket said to Kieran, “I am very grateful for what you did, and if there is some way I can repay you, I will try. But not… that way. I… I cannot.”
“I understand,” said Kieran. “I would never wish a woman to lie with me out of a sense of obligation. And, as I said, I did not do it for you. You owe me nothing.”
“I owe you my thanks, at the very least,” said Cricket, “but I am leaving this place tonight. The caravan is departing for Altaruk tomorrow and I am going with it.”
“Then I will look forward to the pleasure of your company. We shall be traveling together.”
“Now, Cricket, there is nothing to be served by making hasty decisions,” Turin said. “You’re upset now, and—”
“I had already booked passage before this happened,” Cricket interrupted him. “I am leaving, Turin, so don’t try to stop me. I am already packed.”
Turin’s jaw dropped. “Is this how you repay me, after all I’ve done for you?”
“After all you have done for me?” said Cricket angrily. “I have made you a great deal of money, Turin! I have earned every copper I have made in this place, and more, but at least I have done it without compromising my virtue!”
“Your virtue?” Turin said. “Oh, really! Isn’t it a bit ludicrous for you to put on the airs of an affronted virgin?”
“I am a virgin!” she shouted at him.
Everyone fell silent. Turin simply stared at her with shock.
“Damn you, Turin,” she said softly as tears flowed down her cheeks.
“May I escort you home, my lady?” Kieran asked, offering her his arm.
“I… I have to get my things,” she stammered.
“I will bring them to you,” an elven bard said, stepping up beside her. He patted her on the shoulder. “Go on, now,” he said, handing her his cloak. “It will be all right.” He smiled. “You’ve certainly given them something to remember you by.”
She smiled through her tears. “Thank you, Edric,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “Please,” she said to Kieran, “I want to go home now.”
The crowd parted for them as they turned to leave.
Behind them, the big mercenary regained consciousness and sat up groggily. His gaze focused on Kieran, and he reached behind his neck, pulling a stiletto from a concealed sheath on his back, under his tunic. He drew his arm back…
“Kieran, look out!” Drom shouted.
Kieran spun around just in time to see a ceramic bottle come flying through the air and shatter against the big mercenary’s temple. The man grunted and collapsed, dropping the knife. Kieran looked quickly to see who had thrown it. His gaze fell on Sorak. Sorak simply nodded at him.
Kieran smiled. “That’s two I owe you, Sorak,” he said. “My thanks. I won’t forget.”
Edric turned to stare at Sorak intently.
“Well, I think I’ve had enough entertainment for one night,” Ryana said.
Sorak offered her his arm. “In that case, my lady, will you allow me to escort you home?”
She took his arm and snuggled up against him. “Would you like a private dance, as well?”
“I didn’t know you could dance,” said Sorak with surprise.
“I can’t,” she replied, batting her eyelashes.
“Tajik,” Sorak said, “we’re leaving now.”
“Well, I must say, it’s certainly been an interesting night,” said the ferry captain as he led them toward the door. Behind them, Edric continued to stare at Sorak. Then he turned to Turin. “I will return for Cricket’s things,” he said.
“Aah, do as you like, and good riddance to you both,” said Turin, sourly. But Edric was already heading for the door.
Chapter Five
“That girl was very beautiful, wasn’t she?” Ryana asked.
Sorak ran his fingers lightly down her bare thigh. “Yes, she was.”
They lay together wrapped in a blanket on a rug in front of the fireplace. After they had returned to Tajik’s home, the captain had diplomatically withdrawn, saying he would see them in the morning. The servants had prepared a spare room for them, lit a fire, and brewed a pot of tea, then retired to their own quarters, wishing them goodnight. And Sorak and Ryana had made love.
Though they had known each other almost all their lives, they were still only recent lovers, still discovering things about themselves in their new physical relationship. The first time they made love, in Sanctuary, it had been a gentle, tentative, profoundly emotional experience. This time, it had been passionate and energetic. Ryana had showed a side of herself Sorak had never seer before. And he thought he knew why.
“Did you find her desirable?” Ryana asked, her face inches from his own as they lay with legs intertwined.
“I was affected by her beauty,” Sorak replied.
“And her dancing?” asked Ryana.
“She was very good,” said Sorak.
“You found her exciting.”
“Yes. She was beautiful, and I thought her dancing very sensual and seductive.”
Ryana sighed. “At least you’re honest. I wish I could dance for you like that.”
“You don’t have to,” Sorak said, kissing her.
“But I’d like to,” she replied. “I saw the way you were watching her.”
“I’ve seen women dance before,” said Sorak, “but never like that. She’s very skilled. She has a gift.”
“Do you recall her name?”
“Cricket.”
“I was going to call you a liar if you claimed not to remember,” said Ryana wryly.
“I would never lie to you.” He kissed her lips and squeezed her leg between his own. “Besides, it’s an unusual name.”
“And I suppose that is the only reason you remembered it.”
“Are you jealous?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“No,” she replied. Then grimaced and said, “Yes.”
“You have no reason to be,” Sorak said. “Besides, she left with Kieran.”
“Mmmm. He’s very handsome, isn’t he?”
“Yes, I suppose he is.”
“And a great body.”
“I agree.”
“And he’s very dashing.”
“I can see that, yes.”
“A girl could do far worse.”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Damn you,” she said, poking him.
Sorak chuckled. “I have no reason to feel jealous. I do not doubt your love. Do you doubt mine?”
“No,” she said, snuggling against him and kissing his neck. “But I still wish
I could dance for you the way she did.”
“I would enjoy seeing you dance.”
Ryana made a face and shook her head. “My body would not move like hers. I am too muscular and lack the flexibility. Besides, I do not have her skill. If I tried, I would look foolish and clumsy. You would only laugh at me.”
“Never.”
She sighed. “In a way, it was easier before, when your female aspects prevented you from lying with a woman. I knew you could never lie with me, but neither would you lie with others. Now, I cannot help but wonder if I will be enough for you.”
“You are more than enough woman for me,” said Sorak.
“But I’m the only woman you have ever been with.”
“And I’m the only man that you have ever been with,” he replied. “Unless there’s something you have kept from me.”
She poked him again. “You know better. But it’s different with a man. A woman loves. A man has appetites.”
Sorak frowned. “Who told you that?”
“It’s what the sisters always said.”
“Ah, and they, of course, are vastly experienced in such matters,” he said in a gently mocking tone.
“They are not all virgins. You know that.”
“Yes, I know,” he agreed, “but those who are not have experienced only the physical side of love, and that merely as a curiosity. When it came their turn to make a pilgrimage, they took the opportunity to find a man and satisfy their curiosity, and they did so in a manner that only validated their preconceptions.”
Ryana frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“What prevented me from experiencing physical love before is what helps me understand it better now,” he said. “I used to resent the interference of my female aspects, but in a way, I’m grateful for it now. I wanted you, but my female aspects would not allow it, because if I made love to you, they would have experienced it with me. They would have been repelled by it, as I would have been had one of them made love with a man. Well, perhaps not all of them would have been repelled. Kivara always found the possibility intriguing.”
“Yes, I remember,” said Ryana with a smile. “She was always a creature of sensation, entranced with excitement, attracted to the unpredictable.”
