by Loki Renard
"Reed!" Crispin patted the bench seat. "Come. Sit. Drink."
"I could use a drink," Reed said, slipping in beside Crispin. There was a brief silence at the table as she joined the party, avoiding Ayla's gaze.
"What's wrong?" Crispin nudged her.
"What's wrong," Reed said, "is that Rog is prostituting himself to bail some of our friends out of jail."
There was a stunned silence, then old Atrocious spoke. "Selling himself, hmm? Must run in the family."
Granny Rogette's lips puckered. "What do you mean, my grandson is selling himself?"
"I mean the Widow swept in, offered him thousands of gold pieces and has taken him off to her lair to have her wicked way with him."
"The Widow," Granny Rogette's scowl faded and she nodded approvingly. "She's powerful, and rich."
"Who is the Widow?" Ayla inquired.
"She's the court witch," Reed explained. "She's known for her enchantments. The most impressive of all being the Black Gem, which she always wears about her neck. They say the gem allows her to look into people's souls."
A muscle in Ayla's cheek twitched. "Is that so?"
"I don't know," Reed shrugged. She was too disappointed and sad to care about the Widow's gem. She was much more concerned about the conversation with Rog before he'd gone off with that woman, a complete stranger bar for the stories told about her... Reed sighed deeply and accepted the mead shoved across the table by Crispin.
Rogette seemed quite pleased at the news of Rog's latest conquest. There was a definite glimmer of pride in her eye as they started another round of cards, this time with Reed taking a hand.
The game was Queens. The aim of the game was to gather the Thorn Queen, the Fire Queen, the Rock Queen and the Silver Queen, without being saddled with the Pig Queen, the Dragon Queen, the Mud Queen or the Minstrel Queen. The Forest, Virgin, Dancer and Naked Queens could be used to create alternative card courts, and collecting any four queens created an Empress, a card which could be used in lieu of any Queen when creating one's court. In addition to the Queen cards were ten Jester cards, ten Bandit cards, ten Warrior cards and ten Nun cards. Warriors held the highest value, followed by Jesters, then Nuns, then Bandits.
The rules of the game were simple enough. Each player offered one card face up and one card face down to the player to their right. The player to the right could choose either card, but had to choose at least one to swap. The game went on until one player declared a court, at which point all players would lay down their cards and a winner would be determined. The player with the highest ranking cards won. However, having the Pig, Dragon, Mud or Minstrel Queens in one's hand meant an automatic loss and a forfeit of one's best card the next hand.
Reed rather liked Queens, there was an element of skill as well as an element of manipulation, not to mention the ever-present element of luck. Atrocious and Rogette argued terribly throughout the game, each accusing the other of cheating so many times they were ordered to sit on opposite sides of Ayla, whose tall frame acted as an effective barrier.
That put Ayla dead opposite Reed. The witch made polite conversation, mentioning how much better Reed looked and making the observation that her powers might soon return. For reasons Reed could not understand, that seemed to make Crispin very uncomfortable.
"Since when do you socialize here?" Reed whispered the question behind her cards.
"Since I had little choice," Crispin whispered back. "I have to keep an eye on the half-elf."
Reed nodded. It made sense. Crispin was a proper elf. Crispin probably didn't hold with half-breeds cluttering up the place.
"Once I get my powers back, you'll be free to leave Clitera," Reed observed. "Won't that be nice for you."
"Yes," Atrocious said. "It will. This city gives me the shits."
"Atrocious!" Ayla's scandalized tones rang out and were thoroughly ignored.
"That's the wine," Reed said. "Stay away from it. Mead or Lief."
"The last time Atrocious smoked a lief she burned a house down," Ayla said disapprovingly.
Reed grinned. "Impressive."
"Not at all impressive,” Ayla said. “Then she and Rogette ran about naked in freezing temperatures."
The revelation made Reed laugh out loud. "Granny Rogette! Would you do such a thing?"
"I did many things in my day," Rogette said. "Including Ayla."
An elderly rumbled escaped the legendary summoner. "That's it," Atrocious said, casting her cards down. "It's time we had this out once and for all!"
She made to get up from her seat, but Ayla easily held her in place with one hand.
"Calm down," the witch said. "That was a long time ago."
"I still can't eat carrots," Atrocious grumbled. "Let me hit her. Just a little bit. Better still, let me grate her."
"Who is hitting who?" Rog's deep voice rumbled across the table. He had come in among all the arguing and none had noticed him for the noise in the tavern.
His interjection stopped the fight abruptly. Each and every woman at the table stopped and stared at him.
"Hello, ladies," he grinned broadly.
Reed was relieved to see he didn't look unhappy. If anything, he looked very relaxed and a little goofy.
"Hey you," he said, sliding onto the bench next to Reed. "You told them, didn't you?"
"Of course I told them," Reed said. "You just got picked up off the street. Like a..." she trailed off, then started up again. "What did she do to you?"
Rog's smile broadened and he flickered a wink at Reed. "That's not really a conversation for mixed company. I'll tell you later if you like."
"I can't wait," Reed said, rolling her eyes.
Rog was both in a good mood and completely shameless about his tryst. Reed was not sure how she felt about that. Good, she supposed, but a little worried. Selfish worry. Worry that Rog wouldn't be there to snuggle with on a cold evening if he and the Widow were to become more than lovers of convenience and cash.
"What are we playing?" He leaned forward, swiped Reed's cards out of her hands and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
The hard warmth of his body, the comfort of his presence meant she didn't so much as raise an objection, though she did narrow her eyes as Ayla cast one of those all too damn knowing looks in their direction.
"Oh shut up," she snapped across the table. "It's not what you think it is."
"I tire of the cursing," Ayla said. Her tone sounded casual, but there was nothing casual in its intent.
Under Rog's arm, Reed felt no fear. Her disregard for Ayla's warning manifested in a sharp remark. "Maybe you should go to bed if you can't stand staying up with the big girls."
There was a silence at the table whilst Ayla laid her cards down and smiled. "Maybe I should go to bed. Maybe you should come with me."
"What?" Reed pressed back into the sheltering curve of Rog's body. Even though Rog had never actually protected her from the witch, she took a certain strength from him.
"Yes," Ayla said. "Maybe you and I should go up to the bedroom."
The tension was no longer based entirely in anger. There was a little something sexual to it too. Reed didn't think that was appropriate, given Atrocious was sitting right next to Ayla.
"If you need sex, you got your woman right next to you."
"Oh I don't do sex anymore," Atrocious said. "It's unseemly past the point where you crumble instead of lubricate. Ayla tired of dusty dildos."
Rog roared with laughter whilst Reed stuffed her sleeve into her mouth in absolute shock, horror and amusement. When she'd recovered enough to speak, she shook her head. "I'm not the type to just join women who ask me up to their rooms. Rog might accommodate you if you have the coin."
"All respect to Rog, he's not quite my type, and you seemed so sure of yourself a minute ago." Ayla lowered her lids and looked at Reed with hooded eyes. "Are you all words, Reed? Do you sit at a table and speak rudely? Or do you..."
"... fuck witches? No." Reed said. "I'm not goin
g to have sex with you. Not even if you did pay me."
Most women would be embarrassed at being so sharply rebuffed. Most would beat a quick retreat, or pretend that what they'd said wasn't actually what they meant. But that wasn't Ayla's style.
"If you don't want to have sex with a witch, then you'd best not antagonize one. There's a fine line between discipline and intimacy at the best of times, Reed, and the mood I'm in..." Ayla paused and allowed her gaze to do the rest of the talking. It was just a look, but it was dirty enough to make Reed blush.
"Ayla has always taken the summoner as her lover," Atrocious explained with all the detached air of a scholar discussing the mating habits of a humble creature. "I have sated her wicked lusts for decades, now the time comes to pass the torch of her heated loins to someone more able to sate them."
"Me?" Reed pointed to her chest. "You're telling me the real reason you came all the way to Clitera City was to find a new lover?" She screwed up her face. "That's crazy. That's... completely insane."
"Not really so much a lover as a sexual... slave? Pet? How would you describe it, Rogette?" Atrocious asked the question.
"A sexual servant," Rogette replied. "There for Ayla's pleasure."
"Have you all lost your minds?" Reed climbed backward off the bench. "Come on Rog, Crispin, we need to get out of here."
Both Crispin and Rog stayed seated for reasons Reed did not quite understand, not until she realized that Rog had stuffed a napkin into his lap and Crispin was blushing with a most revealing expression. They were both aroused. Both of them!
"There you go," Reed said pointing at her friends. "Pick one of them to rut with. I'm out of here."
"Sit down, Reed," Ayla said. It was not a suggestion, it was an order, and it got Reed's back up more than ever.
"No," she said. "I'm not going to sit down and listen to you tell me how I have to fuck you."
"You would not be the one doing the fucking," Ayla replied.
In spite of her annoyance, Reed felt a twinge of something down low, something that pulsed between her thighs for a moment and then was gone.
The witch was attractive. She was also old enough to be... more than Reed's grandmother even. And even if she didn't look like it, she was still a witch, a bossy herbalist... someone who had rubbed Reed the wrong way from the moment they'd met.
Reed looked at Rog, first for back up, then with the memory of what it had been like to watch him walk away in the company of a seductive, yet oddly direct witch. The memory was painful, though there was no reason for it to be.
All of a sudden, Reed wanted to cry. It was an impulse that rose in her so swiftly she could not catch it, and before she knew what was happening there were tears coursing down her cheeks. She turned to run away, but Rog grabbed her by the back of her shirt and pulled her down into his lap.
"Don't cry," he said, petting her hair. "They were just teasing you, Reed."
She felt him look over her shoulder, and though she couldn't see the look he gave Ayla, she could feel the energy behind it.
"That was mean," he said. "I think you owe Reed an apology. She's had a hard time lately with being sick and the trouble with the ratlings and she came here for some kind of respite and you tease her and scare her with your sex pet stories."
Sniffing into Rog's chest, Reed felt a little better. Surely Ayla would apologize now.
"Reed isn't scared of being my little sex pet," Ayla said. "She's afraid she's going to lose you."
Fuck. Reed stiffened in Rog's arms. Ayla had nailed it in one. Not the first part. The first part was debatable. The second part though, that the witch had seen as clear as day. How did witches do that? Did Ayla have a stone like the Widow's gem? Or were all witches able to see the hearts of mere mortals like reflections on a pond? Reed didn't know. What she did know was that all that dirty talk and crying had lead to uncomfortable lubrication at both ends of her body.
"Can we get out of here, Rog, please?" Reed whispered the question up at him, and was relieved when he nodded.
"Of course, you and I have to talk anyway."
The last thing Reed wanted to hear was that they had to talk, but she'd rather talk to Rog than be the butt of whatever was going on with Ayla and her elderly minions.
"Where are we going to go? I'm not going back underground."
"There's a spare room upstairs," Rogette said. "Third on the left."
"Thanks, Granny," Rog said. "Come on, Reed."
Reed could feel Ayla's wicked green eyes on her as she trailed up the steps after Rog. It took all her common sense and self restraint not to turn around and make a rude gesture in the witch's direction.
"I hate witches," she grumbled as she followed him into the room. It was a cozy little space with a bed more than big enough for two ratlings. Two ratlings could comfortably fit on a single chair.
"They're not all bad," Rog replied.
"Oh so you enjoyed the Widow?"
Rog gave her a wry look as he stripped off his vest. "You don't want to hear about that, do you?"
"No," Reed agreed, kicking off her boots. "Not really. I assume you did the deed."
"I did," Rog grinned.
"You look disgustingly pleased with yourself. I'm glad she didn't eat you."
"Oh she ate..."
"Ew! Stop!" Reed slugged him lightly in the arm. "Seriously Rog. That's disgusting."
Rog chuckled as he stripped down to his undershorts. "I've spent more time out of my clothes today than in them."
"Seriously," Reed said. "Cut it out."
They climbed into bed together and Reed laid her head on Rog's chest. He wrapped an arm about her shoulders as she curled her knees up against his hip.
"So," she said cautiously. "What did you want to talk to me about?"
"The Widow... Sabine. She would like to have me on retainer."
Reed's heart sank. She'd feared something more would come of Rog's tryst. She'd feared that once the Widow had her claws in him she wouldn't let go. It seemed those fears had been based in reality.
"So she's going to pay you to fuck her whenever she likes?"
"Something like that," Rog said. "The only thing is... she wants me to move to her house in the High Lanes."
Reed pulled away from him and scowled. "What do you mean?"
"She has a house in the High Lanes. Actually, it's the one we were standing outside of when she caught up with us."
Narrowing her eyes, Reed shook her head. "I didn't know you were for sale, Rog."
"I'd rather fuck than fight," Rog said simply. "You didn't have a problem with it when I was getting seven shades beaten out of me."
"Yes I did," Reed scowled, pushing back the brightly woven comforter. "What are you talking about?"
"I like Sabine," Rog said. "And she likes me. She wants to take care of me."
"Oh she wants to take care of you?" Reed swallowed her anger. "Okay. I mean, you've known her for all of five minutes, why not move into her house?"
"You can always come visit," Rog said. "She's okay with that."
