“That I can, My Lady, that I can. Though, I find today I’d like someone young, one of the talkative sort. There’s something about the voice of a young woman that gets my blood going.”
“Pink or brown?” the hen-mother asked curtly, doing a right poor job of hiding her disappointment with Damor’s response.
“Either, or both. So long as she’s younger than me, with looks enough to boot, makes no matter.”
The hen-mother sniffled and whipped her nose into the air. “I shall be but moments, do make yourselves comfortable.”
As the hen-mother disappeared behind a curtain, Sal took a seat on the long, squat couch, and Damor sat beside him. Sal turned and raised a brow at the bodyguard, motioning with a hand to all the open seating.
Damor Nev opened his mouth, but before he spoke, the front door opened, and three men entered the grand sitting room. Sal recognized them, one and all.
The man in the lead was taller than his companions. He had the Scarvini look, sunken eyes and jet-black hair. It was his distinctive cleft chin that set him apart from his brothers. He was the oldest son of Don Scarvini, Giuseppe Scarvini, though most everyone Sal knew simply referred to him as: The Shark.
The second man shared Giuseppe’s look, the sunken eyes and black hair of the Scarvini blood-royal. Though, more than anything, he resembled a slouching weasel. His eyes flickering place to place as though he felt he was being watched, his movements quick and jittery. His name was Garibaldi Scarvini, second son of Don Giotto Scarvini.
Third to enter was Li Jing, a Dahuaneze man known for doing wet work for the Scarvini family. He was a made man and a well-known one at that. Li Jing was rumored to have served the House of Nom before he came to Dijvois. Around the city, Li Jing was known to be the worst thing to find in the shadows.
Damor leaned close to Sal. “We need to go, now.”
Sal scoffed under his breath. An understatement if he’d ever heard one. Three of the most influential men within the Scarvini crime family had entered the room. The last thing Sal needed was to be recognized.
To Sal’s relief, none of the newcomers spared him nor Damor Nev a second glance. Instead, they passed through the sitting room and stepped through the curtain. The same curtain which the hen-mother had disappeared behind. The moment Li Jing was no longer visible, Sal nearly jumped to his feet and froze as the curtain swept open once more.
The hen-mother stepped through, two girls in tow like a pair of ducklings. They were both half the age of the hen-mother, though it was the only similarity between them. The girl in the lead was blonde, peach skin, and a cute button nose. Sal took her for a Norsic, but she could as well have been Nelsigh. Her bosom prodigious, her soft curves accentuated by her alluring silk robe, Sal felt himself stiffen at the sight of her.
The girl in the rear had straight, black hair and nutbrown skin. Her big almond shaped eyes drew Sal in and would not let him free. He assumed she was of Minnoan blood or somewhere in the Near East. She was more slender than the blonde, but had no less appealing a figure. Sal was a touch embarrassed to admit he would be more than happy to be paired with either girl and had to remind himself he was there for information, not to lose his maidenhood.
The hen-mother delicately place her hand over her mouth and made a soft noise in her throat. “Gentlemen, please allow me to introduce Princess Sapphire, and Princess Diamond.” The pair of whores sauntered across the sitting room. The blonde locked eyes with Sal and grabbed him by the elbow. The four of them headed for the curtain, leaving the hen-mother alone in the sitting room.
Behind the curtain was a hallway with a pair of doors on either side and a staircase at the end of the hall. They made for the stairs and rounded them up to the second floor.
Damor flashed Sal one last look before they were each led into rooms at either side of the hall. The whore tugged him into the room vigorously, nearly pulling his arm from the socket as she threw him onto the bed.
Without warning, she scrambled for the button of his trousers, ripped them open, and tugged them swiftly down to his ankles.
He made a halfhearted attempt at crossing his legs, but there was no hiding that he was fully erect.
“Hard for me already, are you?” she said, tugging at his cock.
Sal sat up. “I’m sorry, but I don’t even know your name.”
“Princess Diamond,” she said, putting a hand on his chest and shoving him back down on the feather mattress. Her hand slid down his chest over his navel and onto his rock-hard manhood. She pulled his small clothes down to his ankles, along with his pants, with another swift tug.
He sat up quickly. “Diamond, that’s not your real name, is it?”
The whore put her hand back on his chest and pushed him back down on the mattress, somewhat more forcefully this time. Without warning, she put his cock in her mouth, and he nearly gave in there and then. It was wet, warm and the best thing he had ever felt. In a sudden flush of guilt, he recalled what he was there to do.
He panicked and did all he could to swiftly remove her. Though, he probably shouldn’t have grabbed her by the hair.
Princess Diamond cried out and slapped his hand away. “Fuck’s matter with you?” she said, her eyes filled with venom.
“Sorry—I’m sorry—I didn’t mean—”
“Bloody hell,” she said. “That just figures.”
Sal looked at his feet, his manhood shriveling as shame swept through him. “What figures?”
She huffed and rubbed at her scalp where he’d tugged. “Nothing,” she said sullenly.
“No, tell me. I really am sorry I did that. But you can tell me what it is you mean. What figures?”
“Madam Dubois told us one of you was touched. Though, she didn’t say which one. Just figures it’s me what’s got to deal with it.”
Sal blushed, he felt a bit touched sitting there on the edge of the bed with his pants about his ankles, his manhood now soft as a Fitzen pudding. “I really am sorry. Are you all right?”
Princess Diamond brushed his hand away. “Right, then what is it you want from me?”
“I want to get to know you first,” Sal said.
“Look, if I’m to be honest, I’d rather you just let me suck you off so I can get back to sleep before the next one comes through to put it in me. That, or you can stick it wherever you want, let’s just get this done.”
“Isn’t the client supposed to get what he wants?” asked Sal.
The whore shrugged. Even that, Sal found irresistibly erotic. “It’s my experience no one gets what they want, not really. Even when they get what they think they want.” She was thicker than he thought he would have liked, and yet it made her all the more desirable somehow. “Well then, what is it you think you want?”
“I want to see you get naked for me,” Sal said.
Princess Diamond rolled her eyes, but did as he asked. She began to untie the belt of her robe with deft fingers.
Sal put a hand over hers. “Slowly,” he said. “Everything, very slowly. I want to enjoy this.”
She smiled stupidly at him. The kind of fake smile a whore would give, but it made his blood all the hotter, and his desire for her all the greater.
In an instant, his cock was hard as a sword, and he longed to sheath it within her, but he had a job to do. A job for Lilliana. The thought of her softened him in an instant. He was there for information, not sex.
The whore pulled her other arm from the sleeve and slowly lifted the hem of the robe upward, slowly, it drew past her soft, white round thighs and up to the triangle of coarse, blonde hair above the mound of her womanhood. Sal felt a tremor course through him as she lifted the robe farther to expose the soft curve of her belly, a long slender naval, a cleft in the pale flesh of her soft stomach. The arch of her ribs, each rib defined as she arched her back, her chest thrust forth as the shirt slowly lifted to reveal the pale, round hint of her breasts. Slowly, the full curve and then the darker pink skin of her nipples, cone shaped with soft inden
ts at the very tips.
Sal shivered as the robe was lifted all the way to her collarbone, fully exposing her pale breasts. Then, she pulled it up and over her head and threw the shift aside. Naked from the waist up, the whore reached for her sex and stroked herself with a wanton hand.
“You worked here long?” Sal stammered stupidly and overly loud.
The girl smiled as though she knew a joke that he didn’t. Her fingers played in the wiry blonde hair that formed a triangle above the mound of her womanhood.
Sal could not help but stare. His manhood so stiff it hurt. His heart pounded in his chest. His throat too tight to speak. The whore closed in on him, climbing onto his lap and taking his stiff cock in her hand, when the door burst open.
Damor Nev strode through the doorway, “Get the fuck up,” the Bauden shouted, “we need to get the fuck out of here!”
Sal shoved the whore to the floorboards.
She hit the ground ass first, with a shout part curse, part squeal.
Sal pulled up his trousers and bolted out in Damor’s wake.
20
A Return To The Hog
“Watch it,” said a man as Sal shouldered past. He slipped a hand into the man’s coat and cut the thin purse throng with his finger-knife. Sal stammered an apology as he moved on down the street. A quick feel of the purse revealed it was light, no more than five coins, but it would serve.
Sal was supposed to meet Vinny at the Hog Snout by midday, but he’d overslept. Cursing to himself, he picked up his pace and was nearly run over by a horse-drawn carriage as he slipped from the dense crowd and out into the middle of the cobblestone street. He shoved a man and slipped back in line, just in time, as a pair of carthorses trotted past. Sal nearly lost his balance as he was shoved from the pack back into the middle of the road, but he took it in stride, and without a look at who’d shoved him, he carried on down Penny Row.
When Sal opened the door beneath the swaying sign of the crudely painted boar, he was hit with the smell of meadowsweet scattered amongst the rushes. He was reminded painfully of the night when he’d found Bartley and Bessy, two corpses lying facedown on the floor of Bartley’s room. Just the thought made Sal want to flee the spot.
With all the courage he could muster, Sal forced himself to take a step, and then another. His knees shook as he crossed into the taproom, everything inside him wanting out of that place, but he reminded himself that was not his only memory of the Hog Snout. He’d made many more memories in that taproom, every one of them happier than the memory of the night he’d found Bartley and Bessy.
“Oy, Salvatori!” called Vinny. He was seated at a table, a clay mug to hand, and a grin on his face. There were four others seated around the table, all but one of them familiar faces. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.”
“No, not our Salvatori,” said Odie, placing a massive hand on Vinny’s shoulder. “Loyal as a pup, that little fish is.”
“He’ll be loyal,” said Valla, turning on him with half-lidded eyes, “I’ll make certain of that, but the cat’s paw cannot be late on the night of the job.”
“Ah, job is it,” Sal said, pulling out the remaining empty chair and fixing Vinny with a withering glare. “For a moment there, I thought I might have been lured here under false pretenses.”
Vinny had the grace to look ashamed. “Sorry, mate, you might not have come otherwise.”
“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” Sal said, nodding to the unfamiliar man.
“This handsome bastard, is Balliel,” said Valla, gesturing. “Best mimic in the city. Works cons like he was born to it.”
“Twenty years, I have spent traveling with a group of mummers,” said Balliel. “Grew up on the stage, you could say.” The man smiled, accentuating his handsome features and showing off his straight, white teeth. Sal took him for a Shiikali, but his green eyes bespoke of possible Nelsigh blood.
“Balliel, like Balliel the bard?” Sal asked.
“My mother loved his songs,” said Balliel.
“I’ve always liked ‘Piddle on the Diddler’,” Sal said.
“Can’t stand that bloody song,” said Valla.
“ ‘The Queen and Her Goose’?” Sal asked.
“Now there a droll song,” said Odie.
“Not meant to be funny, you dolt. That one’s a tragedy,” said Valla. “Tells about the collapse of this kingdom. It’s about the bloody overthrow of the last Pairgu king.”
“Don’t mean it ain’t fun to shout, ‘bout getting the noose though, does it?” said the big man, grinning like a child.
Valla nodded to the young woman seated beside her. “You’ve met Aurie.”
Sal nodded.
“Just wait until you’ve seen her work,” Valla said with a smile. “There are spiders who could learn from watching this one climb. Best snatcher we could ask for.”
The girl lowered her chin. Her brow creased, her lips pursed tight. Despite all that, she was still pretty, in a common sort of way. Her freckled face and bleached brown hair told of long days in the sun, possibly some farmer’s get, but more than likely an urchin that had made her own way.
“Yes, you’ve told me, she’s a better snatcher than me,” Sal said. And although he’d intended for it to be playful, it somehow came out sounding bitter.
Valla smiled a wicked smile. “You, Salvatori are no longer a snatcher. You are my cat’s paw, and there’s no room for insecurity in that little kitty’s head of yours.”
“I’d say Salvatori’s the better snatcher,” said Vinny sullenly, his words somewhat slurred. It was never a good thing when he got too deep into his cups. That was when the mean half of the half-Norsic seemed to come out. “Salvatori is kind of man we’d want on the job. Ask me we can do without the girl.”
Both Valla and Aurie turned venomous glares upon Vinny, but the half-Norsic seemed not to notice.
“Right. Well, it’ll be a pleasure to work with you,” said Sal, in an attempt to shift the conversation. “Both of you, that is.”
Balliel winked, while Aurie’s lips curled back in a sort of nervous leer.
“Now that you’ve observed all the proper pleasantries, perhaps we can continue?” said Valla. “I’ll not take up everyone’s time going back over every fucking detail from the get-go, but I will need to go over some of the basics for our latecomer.”
“Sorry, everyone,” Sal said, knowing full well if he had been informed they were meeting about a job, he would never have been late, but the last thing he needed to do was shift any more negative attention back Vinny’s way.
“Salvatori, you’ll be playing cat’s paw,” said Valla, looking over the group as though waiting for an objection. “We will want you on the southwest corner of the rooftop. That ought to give you a good look over Penny Row and Town Road.”
“Hold on, what building is this?” Sal asked.
“Warehouse thirty-seven off Penny Row. We’ve had word of a big shipment moving there. We’ll be there to remove that shipment before it moves on to the markets. We will meet at evenfall, just off Town Road outside the Square. There is a binder’s press on the west side, that’s where I’ll be waiting. And I won’t be waiting for latecomers.”
Balliel coughed something inaudible, and Aurie snickered. Valla fixed Sal with a pointed look.
“Right. Well, didn’t exactly know what I was getting into, did I?” Sal said.
“Continuing from where we were,” said Valla. “Vincenzo and Odie will load the crates. Balliel, as you ought to have the horse cart by then, you’ll need to help load. When Aurie and I have finished with the remaining guards, we’ll join to help load. We take our fill and leave. Simple as that.”
“And the guard?” said Vinny. “If he puts up a fight—”
“Certainly, there will be no objections, yes? said Balliel with a disarming smile. “I am not a man so often denied.”
Vinny frowned, chin tucked, nose wrinkled as though he smelled something rotten. “And if you
are denied?”
“You let me worry about the contingencies,” said Valla. “All you need to do is worry about your end, Vincenzo.”
“I’m only saying, we might do better to have Odie and I bag the guard from the start. Don’t care how tough the bastard is, he’s not fighting off the big man. Whereas—” Vinny said, trailing off as he motioned to Balliel.
“Ah, you do not believe I can be fighting this one man, yes?” Balliel asked.
“No, I don’t,” said Vinny flatly.
“I assure you, there will be no fighting,” said Balliel. “As I have told, there is not many a times when I am denied.”
“And why send this perfumed mummer to begin with?” Vinny said, as though he’d not heard Balliel. “Wouldn’t we do better to find a woman? Better yet, Valla, why don’t you—”
“Enough,” Valla said with a voice like a whip. “Vincenzo, I’d shut that trap of yours before someone gets upset. I hadn’t thought you to be the one to question my judgment, but it seems you take me for some kind of Sacrull damned fool.”
“No, I—”
“I’ll not tell you again,” Valla snapped. “Do you not think I scouted this job? Do you not trust I have mapped out every step of this plan with meticulous care? This will be one more of a countless number of jobs that I have successfully led. What reasons could you possibly have to doubt me? Especially after those rumors you so thoughtlessly began to spread about our friend, Salvatori.”
“Rumor tellings, this big blonde one is the jealous type, no?” said Balliel.
“Let’s see how that pretty face suits you in a real fight, Shiikali,” said Vinny, standing.
Odie put a hand on Vinny’s shoulder, and tempers cooled almost instantaneously. Only fools picked fights with the big man. Even deep in his cups and heated as he was, Vinny would never be so foolish. To pick a fight with the big man was like stepping into the dragon’s open maw naked as your name-day.
A Fool of Sorts Page 19
