The Anari

by Adrianna J Tetnowski

  Lanterns swung down from stone posts just outside, lighting up the cobblestone path leading up to the inn; all friendly and welcoming. The building itself stretched across three layers, with a small balcony on the third floor. It was occupied by a naked woman as she stood smoking a slender cigarette. A far older gentleman appeared behind her, inviting her back into his room. Then they were both gone. Preeya had not failed to notice the young woman. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

  “Come on.” Ariadna said and pushed open the door to the building.

  The place was in an uproar. Drunken men sat spilling glasses of wine and some mugs of cider, as they ate food from fine mahogany tables. Each man had a woman on their laps, most of them naked, save for jewellery around their necks, wrists and ankles.

  Preeya pressed herself closer to Ariadna.

  “What is this place? An inn?” she asked over the noise.

  Ariadna hid her smile well.

  “You can call it that.” she led the priestess to an empty booth at the far corner of the room and shoved her into a seat.

  Barmaids dressed in expensive silk gowns refilled the drinks of their male patrons. They piled more bread onto empty plates, carved more meat for the men and roasted plenty more vegetables like carrots, corn and mushrooms to accompany the meal.

  Ariadna freed her silver ponytail from her tunic and slung it over her shoulder. Slamming a hand down against the table, she attracted the attention of a pretty young barmaid.

  The barmaid, dressed in red silks and silver bracelets on her ankles, came rushing towards the table and she shot the assassin a smile.

  “What can I get for you this evening?” her voice was seductive enough to make Preeya’s toes curl.

  How was she so confident? She asked herself.

  “Cider for me. Wine for my companion, anything sweet.” Ariadna replied. She dropped a piece of silver onto the table and the barmaid swiped it up before it stopped rolling.

  “Right away.” the woman said and returned moments later with the drinks.

  Whilst Ariadna took a grateful gulp of her cider, Preeya did not touch her cup. “I paid good money for that wine, so you’d best drink it.” she said from behind the rim of her mug.

  Preeya looked around the room again. In the far corner, there sat a man with a mug of his own in one hand and the other on the back of a woman’s head.

  The woman was on her knees before him, her head in between his legs. Preeya looked away with frightened eyes.

  “This is a strange inn.” she told Ariadna. One look from the assassin had her forcing wine down her throat. It was bitter, unlike the one Ari had given her earlier on that day.

  "Have you ever been here before?"

  Ariadna placed her mug down and leaned her elbows against the table, pulling herself closer to the priestess.

  “No but, I’ve heard its good value for money. You said you wanted to be a free woman, this is what freedom is.” she moved her hand in a sweeping motion around the room. “Nowhere to be in particular, a good drink in your hand and a warm bed at the end of the night to share with whoever you want. No restrictions. It’s time you learned some confidence, girl.”

  A woman dressed in a navy silk gown approached the assassin and her priestess companion, causing them both to look up from their conversation. Her tanned skin complimented the silk beautifully and as she walked, her ankles rung out from the silver bracelets she wore around them. The woman tossed her black hair over a shoulder and dropped into Ariadna’s lap, straightening her back to perk up her breasts in an attempt to entice her.

  “Are you looking for a good time?” she asked the assassin. Her hand was already making its way down to Ari’s thighs and in between them.

  Ariadna raised a brow at the woman. “I’m not.” she replied.

  The whore gave Ari a small bob of her head and rose without a word.

  “Wait.” Ariadna called out. When the whore turned back, Ari retrieved a silver coin out of a secure pocket of her fighting leathers and pressed it into the woman’s hand.“But my companion is.” she added in and gestured to where Preeya sat.

  The young Priestess looked to Ariadna, and she jolted at her being mentioned. “What? I-I don’t think that’s appropriate. What will people think?” she asked.

  Ariadna rolled her eyes. Taking hold of the woman gently by her neck, she pulled her closer and pressed a kiss against her lips, all whilst she ran a hand up to one of the whore’s breasts and gave it a squeeze.

  The woman drew away with a grin and approached Preeya. She took the priestess by the hand and helped her to her feet.

  “Would you look at that? No one even batted an eye.” Ariadna told her.

  Preeya had no time to argue against her leaving the assassin’s side. When she looked over her shoulder to where she sat, Preeya only found Ariadna swinging her legs up onto the edge of the table and raising her mug of cider up at her. Preeya felt the woman’s hand tighten around hers as she continued to drag the girl away from the noise of the main hall, up a flight of stairs, and through a heavy oak door. Which the woman shut and locked behind her once they were both safely inside.

  21 –

  Preeya

  Preeya did not know what to expect as she looked around the room of the inn; which the whore had led her to without a word. It looked cosy, at least, and so wildly decorated compared to Preeya’s room back at the convent.

  There was a large bed in the centre of the room, buried underneath a mountain of pillows. Splashes of emerald green, gold, navy and violet cushions threw colours across the walls; in the light of a few candles burning in each corner of the room. There was a sensual feeling about this place.

  Preeya felt her stomach flip as she thought back to her last conversation with Ana before she had escaped the convent. She knew what a whore was – what they did. The girl wanted to know what it felt like to be loved, only that did not mean she was willing to give herself away for a moment of pleasure.

  How Ariadna was cruel!

  The whore, as though sensing Preeya’s nerves, turned to face her and grasped her hands; giving them a squeeze. “You tremble, little lamb. There’s no need to be afraid.” the woman’s voice was so soothing; reassuring. But reassuring of what, exactly?

  Preeya did not know what to do. She remained standing in her place and her fingers worked their way around a button on the waistcoat Ari had bought her, for the sake of keeping herself busy. She did not want to be here. Not really.

  The whore ran a bronze hand down one of Preeya’s cheeks and smiled.

  “Don’t be afraid.” she said again. Her hands moved up to a silver pin on each of her shoulders, holding her navy dress in place. She undid them both and her gown tumbled to the floor in one sweep of silk.

  Preeya’s eyes widened for a second, before her hands flew up to her face and covered them so she could see no more. From within the darkness she had cast herself into, Preeya heard the whore give out a gentle laugh. She felt the softness of skin against her hands as the woman moved them away from her eyes.

  “We’re not here to do anything, girl. I only want to make you comfortable around a woman’s body, your own included. How is it that a girl of your age has never seen anyone bare?” the whore asked. She was not mocking in her tone or choice of questions. She appeared curious.

  Preeya was unsure of where to place her gaze. To her own embarrassment, her eyes ran over the woman’s curvaceous figure; her accentuated hips and plump breasts. Preeya wanted to cover her eyes again. “It isn’t your place to know.” she finally replied and settled her gaze onto a candle in the farthest corner of the room; to keep herself from looking back at the woman. Preeya could trust no one. Only Ari knew who she was and, well, whores liked to gossip.

  If anyone found out she was a virgin priestess; that she had abandoned her holy vows – stoned to death; that was what Preeya had been told once and once only. At the time she had not needed to be told again and yet, here she was.

  The whor
e had dressed herself again, by the time Preeya mustered the courage to look back. As she pinned her dress back into place, the woman gave Preeya a smile.

  “Is there anything you would be willing to try?” she asked. Her tone was a little too casual for the priestess’ liking.

  “No.” Preeya replied and turned for the door. “But,” she paused a moment. “Thank you anyway for the… interesting attempt at a lesson in confidence.” Preeya left the room before the whore could try to entice her anymore. To her own embarrassment, she pressed herself against a wall outside the room and drew a deep breath. All whilst she allowed the strange tingling sensation in between her legs to subside.

  The woman had been beautiful, no doubt about that but, Preeya wanted to love a man.

  Preeya shook her nerves away and went in search of Ariadna again. Oh, how she was going to give that damned assassin a piece of her mind. She felt her fingers tingle with anger and her steps were out of rhythm with her thundering heart. Preeya was furious, she really was.

  Ariadna had not moved from the table they had both been occupying before Preeya was taken away. Yet, this time around she had replaced Preeya with a male companion. The assassin sat in his lap, her mug of cider forgotten, and her arms were slung over the man’s neck as Ariadna sat kissing him.

  Preeya watched from a distance, observing the way the man moved his hands further down Ari’s back and how he grasped her buttocks tightly. She approached the table and gave an exaggerated clearing of her throat.

  Ariadna did not even have to look to know who it was. She let out a heavy sigh and sent a lazy glance in Preeya’s direction. “Done already? Damn, you’re quick. Or did you get scared as soon as the woman pulled her tits out?” she asked. Her tone was slow and mocking. When Preeya did not reply, Ariadna slid off the man’s lap and gave him a heavy pat on the thigh. “Give us a minute.” she said.

  The man lifted a brow in question but, said nothing and did as he was asked.

  Preeya dropped into her seat and frowned at her companion.

  “Was it that bad? Don’t just look at me like that, answer the question.” Ariadna found this all too amusing to be impatient with the girl.

  “It was awful.” Preeya replied after some time. “You threw me in there and I had no idea what to do! I left before anything could happen,”

  “Did you like what you saw, at least?” Ariadna asked and found her mug of cider again. She peered over the rim of her mug when Preeya did not reply. Ari placed it down and pointed a finger at the priestess, a smile already playing at her lips.

  “I-I, I don’t know. No,” Preeya began.

  “Look.” Ariadna said. “You told me you wanted to be free, to fall in love; be your own woman and all that other bullshit. But how do you expect to be any of that when you’re too scared to do anything? Fear is not a feeling – it’s an excuse. You’re a slave, Preeya, and fear is your Master.”

  Preeya did not know how to reply to any of that. One look from the assassin had her taking a gulp of her own drink again, to steady her trembling bones.

  Ariadna stared at the girl a moment longer and then downed the rest of her drink. The assassin rose from her seat without a word. She gave Preeya a heavy pat on the back and went in search of her new gentleman friend.

  Preeya twisted around in her seat to watch Ari go. “Where are you going?” she called out over the noise of the inn.

  Ariadna found whom she was looking for and she took hold of him by the collar of his tunic. “I’m going to have sex with my new gentleman friend. Who knows, I might even finish what you’d started with that pretty whore from before too.” Ariadna called out so casually it almost made Preeya jealous. Then she was gone, up a flight of stairs and out of Preeya’s line of sight.

  22 –

  Ariadna

  Out of all the men in the inn, Loren Navan was not the most handsome. His dark brown hair was short and simple in style, tucked behind his ears and out of his eyes. He had brown eyes to match, which darted around the room and after any sound or shadow surrounding him, whilst his bronze skin suggested he was not from around here. That or, he used to be a slave who had clearly done well for himself over the years.

  But Ariadna had not chosen him for his looks. She had spied a small crescent of the Mara family tucked behind the collar of his tunic; as though Ari would have not noticed it. She took the insult on behalf of all assassins, with Loren having assumed no one would have been smart enough to spy it. She had run her hands up and down his body – not out of an interest in his physique but, to search for any concealed weapons or badges.

  Ari could have grabbed hold of Loren and dragged him out by any piece of clothing – her fingers around his collar had given her close access to feel for anything he may have hidden behind it. Her searching had not been in vain.

  Loren pulled Ariadna up a staircase and towards a room he had paid a nice sum of money for. It seemed Mallice Mara paid his men well, for the room was dressed in red velvet. It was everywhere, on the walls, the double bed in the far corner and even a pair of well-padded armchairs; only they were clad in black. As Loren undressed himself with haste, he gave Ari time to look around the room a moment longer.

  One window on the right, away from the bed. A wooden door leading out to a balcony, second floor, not too far a drop should Ari need to escape that way.

  Ariadna shifted her weight from one foot to another and then wandered around a little, pretending to admire the room in all its overpriced glory. The floor did not creak as she walked. Steady floorboards, Ari could slip out in silence once her business was done here.

  Loren finished the rest of her examining off without realising as he checked the door was locked, turning the door handle around a few times. A well-greased lock and hinges. Another guarantee of her eventual silent escape. Loren approached the woman he did not know was an assassin and pulled her in for a rough kiss.

  Even after years of sleeping with Vinn, Ariadna had never gotten used to the brutality of a man’s touch.

  “Female sell swords are uncommon in these areas.” Loren began. He unbuckled Ari’s belt of weapons and tossed them onto an armchair. “But not unheard of.”

  Ariadna cocked her head towards the bed and Loren understood her message.

  “A woman who takes control in the bedroom. I like it.” he said with a grin.

  The assassin forced herself to smile at him as she peeled herself out of her leathers. Arrogant bastard, she could not help but think. “You’re right, they are uncommon. Although it’s strange, I heard it's rare for Mallice Mara to hire common sell swords to protect him as he travels.” she approached Loren and joined him in the large bed.

  Loren had only been half paying attention to Ariadna’s words. His attention focused on less important things, like Ari’s breasts and the way her hips swayed as she moved. He pulled the assassin down onto the mattress and found his place on top of her.

  “So much for a woman in control.” Ariadna laughed. She was stalling.

  Loren gave no reply. Instead, he focused on finding his way inside Ari. He braced his hand on either side of her head, his fingers sinking into the white silk pillows, and then moved against her.

  Ariadna felt an ache develop between her legs as Loren moved with brisk thrusts. She suppressed a roll of her eyes. He hadn't even bothered to try to excite her. It was going to be a long night.

  “Mallice has hired you?” Loren asked between breaths. He was feeling annoyed by Ariadna’s clear lack of interest in sex.

  The assassin pitied Loren, he was trying so hard. She forced a moan past her lips and it earned a victorious smile from the soldier.

  Finally, he did not say but, really wanted to.

  “Why do you ask me like that? Afraid a woman might be better with a sword than you?” Ariadna asked him.

  Loren silenced her question with a press of his lips against her throat. He trailed his mouth down her neck, to her breasts. He ran his tongue around her belly button and when he felt brave
enough to dip his head in between Ari’s thighs, he felt her press him back with her foot.

  “I know my way from place to place but, I have no idea where I’m going from here. I was supposed to meet up with a man who works for Mallice Mara, who will escort me to some manor house of his. Mallice is paying me good money to protect him but, I don’t like my time being wasted. It seems this representative is a no show.” Ariadna explained. She wrapped a strand of silver hair around her finger and arched her back so her breasts perked up. Loren let out a laugh.

  “Who did Mallice agree to send?” he asked.

  “Someone by the name of Samwell Vanden.” Ariadna replied. The assassin had done her research, and she had done it well.

  Samwell Vanden existed but, only to those closest to Mallice. Outside the Politician’s inner circle, the name meant nothing to anyone.

  But Ariadna Vikander was not just anyone. She could force answers out of hostages with but a single threat, or a blow to the ribs that always broke bones. The worst she had ever done was played with fire, literally. Her hostage had felt the heat of a flame as she had burned off skin and flesh alike from his sword hand. By doing that alone, Ariadna had extracted the answers she needed in less than five minutes – after all, flesh took a while to burn.

  Loren slipped his hands in between the young assassin’s thighs and he worked his fingers inside her like that. This time, Ariadna swore under her breath as she felt the ecstasy of true pleasure.

  “Looks like you’re in luck. I’m on my way back to the Manor house tomorrow morning, I can rendezvous with Sam at the house and kick his arse for leaving such a beautiful woman waiting. He’ll be on his way to you before you’ll even be awake.” he said, with that same cocky tone of his.

  Ariadna wanted to slit his throat and be done with his arrogant chatter. Yet the assassin kept herself calm, and she nodded. “It’s nice to know there are still gentlemen out there.” she complimented. The act alone almost had her cringing at the sheer stupidity of such a comment; even more so that some men seemed touched by them. Ariadna fought to keep the cider in her stomach down before she spewed it everywhere at the thought.