Dinner at The Floating Duck felt like a repeat of the previous evening. Debbie darted around enthusiastically with the energy of youth, eager for another big tip. “Welcome back, big guy! What'll you have tonight?”

“What's on offer?”

“That would be stew, or stew.”

“Bread with it?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then, five dinners. Drinks?” Tom called in Elvish. Just like the last time, the women asked for wine and the men had ale.

“Tom? What is food…?” Orvan asked, then paused as he reached the end of his Western knowledge.

“Orvan, today is today,” Kervan supplied.

“What is food today?” the older elf asked, somewhat impatiently.

“One moment, Orvan. Hey, Debbie, can Orvan visit the kitchen again?”

“Definitely! Is he going to teach Ken how to cook?”

“If he wants to. Orvan? You choose. You go…food, or you no go.”

“I go. Thank you, Tom.” Orvan stood up.

“Right this way, Mr. Orvan, sir!”

I should talk to Miranda about that, Tom mused. That reminded him of his other business with her, but he held off for the moment. He watched the crowd instead, alert for any signs of trouble. The elves spoke too rapidly for Tom to follow their conversation, especially with the increasing din from the other patrons.

Their dinners did not come quickly; neither did Edge. Tom decided to get up and go see Miranda while he was waiting. Again, Diavla and Varga followed. The bar was busy, and Tom found himself checking the table several times to see whether their food had arrived yet. Finally, there was an open seat at the bar—just one. Varga all but shoved him into it after conferring with Diavla. Right, I wanted to offer one of them the seat, but I have to act like a Master.

Miranda noticed the byplay, and told her assistant to handle the customers for a few minutes. She moved opposite him and spread her arms wide on the bar, before leaning forward. Tom noticed the curves of her large breasts framing her luscious cleavage, and jerked his gaze back up to her face. She regarded him with a small smile. “Hello again, Tom Walker. What can I do for you?”

“Hello, Miranda. Two things. First, here's what I owe you.” Tom held out a gold coin with a grin.

Miranda stared at it, then looked up at him. “What's this?”

“Thanks to your advice, I was able to bargain hard for the booze. I sold it all today. Your fee was two silver per gold, and I got fifty more gold than you estimated, so that's for you.”

Miranda's jaw fell open, and she blinked twice. For a moment, her mouth worked without sound, before she blurted out, “Are you rich, or just soul-addled?”

Tom almost laughed. “I prefer ‘foolishly fair.’ ”

“Well, I prefer it, too,” Miranda agreed, with a bit of wonder in her tone as she took the coin. She stared at it, then looked up at him. “What did you get for the whiskey?”

“I opened with eighty and sold for seventy.”

“Gods. You've got a pair on you, haven't you?”

“Last time I checked,” Tom agreed. But if you want to make sure… Tom thought but didn't add. He often came up with flirtatious lines, yet refrained from saying them. From the way Miranda grinned as she looked at him, though, it was almost as if she had heard the thought.

“Well, I'll be…” She shook her head and tucked the gold away. “You and the elves eat and drink for free tonight. It's not every day a man gives me a gold coin when he easily could have avoided it.” She crossed her arms under her breasts and leaned forward a bit more. “You said two things. I really liked the first one.”

Her eyes are brown—no, hazel, Tom thought desperately, struggling not to look down. He checked the color three times, then swallowed and forced himself to focus on a reply. “Ah, the other one…was Orvan,” he finished quickly, as he remembered. “He's helping in the kitchen again. I was wondering what to charge for his services if I loan him out elsewhere.”

Miranda glanced towards the kitchen, and pursed her lips in thought. “Well, I'd gladly pay a silver per meal he helps Ken improve, but I'm not the richest. You go someplace really nice, get at least a few silver a day for him. Five would not be outrageous.”

“Thanks, I appreciate the tip.”

“I appreciate your tip, too!” Miranda said with feeling. She glanced along the bar. “I need to get back to work now, Tom, but feel free to come by again later with any more offers you want to make.” She winked at him, then turned to Varga. “Hello, there, Varga. You see something you like?”

“Very yes,” Varga said bluntly, getting a small laugh out of Miranda before the bartender shook her head.

“You take care of your women, now, Tom.”

“I'll do that. Good fortune.”

Miranda headed over to cluster of patrons gathered at one end of the bar. Tom got up and headed back to the table with the elven women following him. It bugged him to do it that way, because he would rather keep an eye on them and be ready for trouble from behind. The thought also skipped through his head that he wouldn't mind watching Diavla and Varga both walking in front of him. Don't stare at them either, idiot, he chastised himself.

They sat back down at their table, again with the women against the wall for greater safety. The food still hadn't appeared; Orvan had to be busy bringing dinner up to his standards, so it might take a while, Tom supposed.

Edge arrived first.

“Tom, my new friend! How are you doing tonight?”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“I'm doing very well, Edge. I finished off my big deals in town, so now I can relax.”

“How's business with the elves? I notice they've got new duds. You're taking good care of your merchandise.”

Tom's smile got a bit stiff, but he knew the attitude was only to be expected. It didn't mean he liked it, but Edge was clearly a useful guy. “We've done most of our shopping. Now, we're waiting on information.”

“Information I have. Information is what I do, young Tom!”

“I can tell. What have you got for me? Oh, first, what are you drinking?”

“Northern ale.”

“Northern ale, it is.” Tom summoned Debbie and ordered the drink. He could see the change in Edge's posture as he relaxed, knowing that his payment was on its way. The little man leaned closer.

“I've possibly got custom for your boy, Kerv.”

Tom raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yeah. The lady has a couple of questions, though.”

Tom was curious. “Go on.”

“First, is your boy healthy?”

Tom nodded. “They're smart to ask. Yes, he was checked over by a healer recently and hasn't had any…custom… since. The same question goes in reverse, though. In fact, just let them know that if Kervan gets sick from them, they owe for the healer bill.”

“Won't be a problem there. Apparently, a young woman is saving her chastity for someone, and has decided that an elf man doesn't ‘count’.”

Tom almost snorted his ale, and had to take a second to cough. “Seriously?”

“However they justify it to themselves, pal.”

“Mmm.” Tom tried to hide his grin again. “What else?”

“The lady wants to know whether it's a gold per person or a gold per night.”

“How do you mean?”

“The price is pretty hefty, Tom. The lady wants to split the cost with her friend, and wants to know whether two of them will cost more than one.”

Tom put one hand over his grin this time. He cleared his throat a couple of times. “One moment, Edge. Kervan!”

“Yes…?”

“Woman ask you. One gold, two women?”

Varga gasped and started laughing. Diavla's eyes twinkled. Kervan blinked. “You are (something something) me.”

“Edge ask. Woman want you.”

Diavla said something to Kervan that Tom couldn't follow, but from her tone it was a caution. Kervan nodded to her and seemed to be thinking furiously for several moments, staring at nothing. Finally, he looked at Tom again.“Yes, Tom. I will do.” Varga started laughing harder.

“Kervan. One woman, you are first time.”

“First time elf?”

“First time. First time man. Be good. Do good.”

Kervan sobered. “That is…big. Yes, Tom. I will do good.”

Tom nodded, glad that Kervan was taking it seriously. I'm glad that he's a gentleman in that respect. He turned back to Edge. “He says yes. When and where?”

“Tonight, if possible.”

“It is.”

“Great. The place is in Doublet Square.” Edge gave detailed directions.

Tom hesitated at the thought of sending Kervan off with a bad translation resulting in him getting lost in the streets of Rivermarch. “I'd better walk him there. What time?”

“As soon as possible. She wants him until sunrise, and wants to get her coin's worth. You can present him at the side door, and collect his fee before he goes in. Best to get that out of the way up front; some people get forgetful about paying after, you hear me?”

“I do. Thanks for the advice.” Tom looked at the elves and frowned, trying to decide how to work it.

“Do you want me to keep an eye on them for you, Tom?” Edge offered.

Tom hesitated. How much can I trust Edge with this? He can't make off with them without the tokens, and if he's smart, he knows I'll kill him if he takes the women.

Seeing his reluctance, Edge added, “How about this: I can have Lily Rose walk Kervan there, collect the gold, and bring it to you.”

“Who's Lily Rose?”

“I'll get her. Always happy to help a friend, Tom.” Edge clapped him on the shoulder and hustled off through the dinner crowd.

Tom did his best to explain the situation in Elvish. Before they could reply, Edge returned with a short, tough-looking woman in leathers. She had a rough face, but a friendly smile.

“Hey. Edge says you got a guy who needs an escort and a fee to collect.”

“That's right.”

“Buy me dinner and a couple of rounds when I get back?”

“Absolutely.”

“Great. This the guy?” Lily turned to Kervan. “You speak people?”

“I speak a small Western,” Kervan replied.

“That's a start. You ready to go?”

“We go now, yes.”

“All right. See you soon, big guy.” With that, Lily headed out of the tavern, with Kervan following. The elven women called out encouragement as they left. Varga's was probably something quite lewd.

I guess I'll find out whether I am right to trust these people. Gods, I hope I don't screw this up.

“This is a bad (something)…” Diavla muttered.

Tom shrugged. “Kervan say.”

“I know.”

“He's going to be a popular fellow if you lower his rate a bit after the first few,” Edge advised.

“We'll see how it goes,” Tom answered, noncommittally. “What else have you got for me?”

“Well…” Edge trailed off, staring across the room. Tom turned to see, and it was Debbie and Orvan returning, bringing five bowls and a loaf of bread.

“Did you want a dinner, Edge? Looks like Orvan's done it again.”

“Thank you, Tom, I would.”

Orvan had a lively chat in Elvish with the two women. Tom heard Kervan's name a couple of times, and Orvan sighed heavily.

Edge dug in to the bowl originally meant for Kervan, and grunted in pleasure. “Good stuff. You should hire out Orvan someplace fancy as a cook.” He took a swallow of ale.

“No surprises on the popularity front. A lot of people are curious. A few are pissed. Some are looking for somebody new to bully. You know, nobody likes being on the bottom, so they find someone even lower to pick on.”

Tom nodded to show he understood. “Sounds about right.”

Edge leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I also asked around about slaves in general, you know, looking for information you might want. Turns out there's a guy on Crafter's Row you might want to visit. Morgan's Curios is the shop. Ask for Turner.”

Tom turned that over in his soul a moment. “All right, I'll make sure to do that.” He wondered what he would find there, but it would probably be of interest one way or another.

Edge took another spoonful and moaned in appreciation. “Aw, this is great. Now if only they would get bread that isn't stale by dinnertime this would be amazing.”

“Rivermarch is pretty big. Do the bakers keep baking all day?”

“Of course. Everybody wants bread at mealtimes and they can't keep up, so they gotta make it early, and…” Edge shrugged. “You can't always get the freshest stuff.”

“Thanks, Edge.”

“Oh, hey. I thought you might want to know, that some people are talking about you around town.”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “What are they saying?”

“They're saying you killed Davis the Knife. Any truth to the rumor?”

Tom nodded.

Edge made an impressed face. “A lot of people have tried that.”

Tom scowled. “The bastard killed my friends, and thought he'd killed me. I made him pay for that mistake.”

“Gods below, you're even tougher than you look.” Edge regarded at him thoughtfully, and lowered his voice again. “You know…they say that Davis had a ring with a ruby in it that he always wore. Would you happen to know what became of it?”

Tom cast his soul back, looking at the ceiling while he tried to remember. Did I ever go through the bandits' personal effects? He couldn't recall. “You know, I'm not sure. Is it important?”

When he looked back at Edge, the man's face was professionally bland. “I might be able to find a buyer for it, or take it off your hands myself, if you have it.”

“I don't think so,” Tom said cautiously. “I don't remember seeing it. But I'll check and let you know tomorrow.”

“You don't remember taking it off him?” Edge asked in surprise.

I wasn't the one to loot his body, Tom thought, but decided not to say. Instead, he simply answered, “no. Maybe he didn't have it on him when he died?”

“Well, the offer's open. Please let me know if it turns up.”

“I will.”

“As far as jobs go, what were you thinking? Got a clearer idea now?”

“Well, as you said, Orvan is a great cook and I might rent him out to a fancy inn or something. The elves can't read Western and are still learning to speak it, so that limits the options. I might try for day work at the docks.”

“Well, your boy Kervan clearly doesn't need a day job, and the ladies…are you sure they're not available, Tom? We can find them regular jobs, but there's good money to be made in the evenings…”

Tom frowned. “I'm sure. They're mine.” He hated to put it that way, but it was the best way to shut Edge up on the topic.

“I get it, Tom, I get it. Don't be mad at me for asking, all right? You've got the only lady elves in Rivermarch who aren't ruined.”

Tom got an awful sinking feeling.