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Storm Nattas
We’re back in business boy
Part I
-Your enemies might throw your name into the pot-
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What a blasted cock tease! Storm thought sourly. Half-aroused and half-angry. The young priestess sighed and fanned herself with both hands, gusting air down with puckered lips at her bosom’s opening to cool her skin off. The sweat making the fleshy mounds gleaming. Whatever parts Lord Nattas could see that is and he was looking pretty intently.
What a fucking—?
“The Augusta is preoccupied at this moment Baron,” Priestess Drusilla repeated interrupting his thought process.
“Heard that the first time,” Storm retorted. “The meeting is over though.”
“Much to do in the day,” Drusilla explained and run finger under the hem of her tunic’s plunging décolletage to gather some of the excess moisture. “It’s so ungodly hot yes?”
“Mmm,” Storm hummed. “The locals say, spring smells of summer in Aegium.”
Drusilla liked that.
“Chief,” Grin said from behind his back.
Fuck off.
“Well how about you?” Storm pressed as he was aroused enough and feeling the need to pray deeply.
“I have tasks?” Drusilla started, then paused thinking it through.
“You can leave some of those tasks for the morrow,” a leering Storm helped.
“Milord,” Grin tried again, cutting in for a second time. A nervous tick appeared on Nattas’ face and he swung with his free hand backwards, caught part of a cheek and a bit of forehead. The sharp smack getting a cavernous gasp out of the priestess that turned his cock into a lethal instrument that struggled in his breeches.
Gods damn it.
The buttons are scratching at the skin!
Fuck.
“Maybe later dear Baron?” The priestess asked politely -the opportunity lost- and Nattas grinded his teeth, almost tearing up in the attempt to keep a friendly expression on his face. Now he was the one sweating in the morning sun.
Drusilla walked away, lost in the crowd of the market. With the Legion and Lord Sula’s men patrolling the city, Aegium looked as busy as ever. Some damage was visible in some of the villas in the outer neighborhoods of the sprawling coastal city, but the buildings near the two plateaus and the tower were as he remembered them. The locals went about their businesses, women carrying water from the wells for the day and the buzz from the King's presence keenly sensed everywhere.
Storm had started turning, still peeved at the missed opportunity for a good session with the priestess but paused seeing two local women near him, both with blond hair and pretty tanned –for the time of year- talking about spices and groin-soothing oil. It was a riveting conversation.
“Oh, well then…” Nattas murmured still preoccupied and turned to face Grin. “You have to learn your lesson so you don’t get hit.” He told him and noticed the lackey was fine.
“The kid,” Grin started and Storm blinked.
“What kid?”
Grin pointed at the ground between them. There was a groaning urchin rolling on the markets tiles. Holding on to his head.
Thus the mystery is solved.
“Help him up you idiot,” Storm hissed and Grin stooped to grab the kid by the back of his head like a dog. “Give him a coin.”
“Don’t have one boss,” Grin replied sadly.
“Ah… the nose tingles!” The kid griped holding his face now.
“Fuck’s sake,” Nattas cursed and reached for his purse. Fished a coin out, glanced at it and then looked to find another of less value. “Here,” he finally told the street urchin. “Go away now.”
“Wait chief,” Grin stopped the boy before he bolted away. “Bryce sent him. Gave him a copper to bring us a missive.”
Nattas breathed out in frustration.
“Give me the coin back kid,” he hissed and the boy swallowed it. Grimaced a bit when the copper went down his throat, a big round piece and then set his small jaw.
“No.”
The boy said resolutely.
Nattas’ slap knocking his head to the side a short moment later.
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The Baron stretched his hurting leg under the table. The coastal tavern had fine marble tiles at its shaded patio but the humidity of the nearby sea kept them clammy under his boots. A lot of locals and legionnaires on brief leave trying the warm waters at the sandy beach bordering the taverns tables.
“Parkor is with Moore and Bryce looking for him,” Nattas repeated what the boy had told them. Grin stopped to look at him, a piece of bread the man used to sweep his plate clean dripping with cooking oil. The taste of the fish they had earlier still present in Nattas’ mouth, and reminding the Baron of a ripe cunt.
“He usually reports sooner,” Grin said and then slotted the bread piece in his mouth using the index finger to guide it.
“Hence why they are looking for him,” Nattas grunted and puffed out then reached for a cup of cold tea flavored with a slice of orange. He sipped some, grimaced and set his eyes on the beach to watch the tavern-owner’s daughter wash the white sand off of her tanned legs at the beach’s edge.
Ah, nice. Storm thought humming ‘them girls of Aegium’ under his breath and the wiry assassin Griet pulled the chair next to Grin to sit down across from him. Her short white, boyishly-cut hair hidden under a thin light-grey hood.
Shit.
Griet smiled at Grin –a double-entendre almost- reached over their table and took the cup of flavored tea the speechless Storm had in front of him. She dragged it near her and then had a generous swig to wash her mouth.
Nattas smacked his lips as he went from being startled to being irritated.
“Used a horse,” Maja’s former pupil explained and had some more from the frowned Nattas’ tea. “David’s boat unloaded in the countryside.”
“Astounded we now stand,” Nattas murmured in a poetic mood of sorts. “Trying to figure out what in Abrakas’ veiny cock are you talking about?”
“Mmm,” Griet hummed. She was about twenty-three now, Nattas guessed but still thin and youthful-looking given her profession. Then again the young bitch has been living on my coin for years, vacationing on an island.
“David is?”
“A pirate,” Griet replied and snorted. “I need a bath.”
Nattas pointed an arm at the big ocean not thirty meters away.
“Will you watch my stuff?” She teased.
“It’s not a nudist beach.”
“They have one of those about?” Griet deadpanned and Nattas stood back, the image of her naked body lodged in his brain. He needed to visit a brothel soon.
“I’m paying you to keep an eye on Silvio.”
“The kid is in Moon’s Haven with Ard.”
Nattas rapped his fingers on the table going back and forth from feeling aroused to being cross but trying not to show it.
“Where’s Sudi?”
“He’ll be in Aegium soon,” Griet replied and turned her head to smile at the aloof Grin. “Hello there.”
“A pleasure—”
“Are you serious?” Storm cut him off mid-sentence. He then glared at the grinning Issir woman. “What in all cheap fucks is Sudi doing in Moon’s Haven?”
“You asked for him chief,” Grin reminded the frustrated Storm.
“I didn’t mean for him… oh, for crying out loud.” Nattas groaned and stooped over the table menacingly. Griet got a dagger out and stabbed it on the wood, so Storm returned to his seat. “Where is she?”
“Near Aegium.”
Nattas felt a terrible headache parking in his brain and it wasn’t from the heat. “Why?” He croaked.
“She wants to visit Jeremy’s grave. The news were devastating to her,” Griet explained and Storm blinked, his headache worsening.
“There’s no grave. The lad is in a box. Inside Alden’s crypt.”
“She’s going there.”
Lord Nattas sucked a rugged breath in, the taste of roasted fish in his mouth bothering him and then let it all out in an even deeper sigh. Already he could feel another ache birthing in his stomach.
“I need a cup of wine.”
“They don’t serve—” Grin started but Nattas stopped the lackey banging his cane on the edge of the table.
“The man will sell his daughter for coin. Walk inside and get me a bottle of Flauegran,” he ordered with a frustrated hiss.
“Not everyone is for sale Baron,” Griet said and Storm rolled his eyes so hard he felt dizzy.
“If she talks to the king and makes a mistake we might not survive this,” he warned Griet. “And I mean everyone.”
“Maja has worked on the story with her.”
“Great.”
“She loved the young king.”
“I thought she loved me.”
Nattas actually felt a bit jealous there.
Griet stood back on the chair. “How can you say that? She’s risking much more than you.”
Oh, stuck a phallus up yer nose.
“No dear,” Nattas retorted with a glare. “I say it because it’s my neck she’s risking mostly. Jeremy is already dead. She could mourn him just fine from afar.”
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“Where is he?” Nattas growled an hour later and spotted the ‘kidnapped’ Sirio sitting on a summer chair in the hall of the Baron’s local villa situated at the edge of the east plateau. It was the classiest neighborhood in the city. Storm had bought the expensive place some years back as it had a lovely view of the port and sea underneath it.
Bryce turned his head to watch the hobbling Baron approaching over the cut grass intending to answer. “He was… waiting…”
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Storm reached the sour-looking Sirio in the meantime.
“Good morning Baron Nattas,” Sirio greeted him sounding peeved.
“It’s noon,” Nattas retorted and grabbed a similar chair to sit down, resting the cane next to his leg. “You are supposed to brief us on what’s going on,” he hissed using a hankie to wipe the sweat off of his face. “Instead I’m racing up and down the fucking city on a bad leg, darn sweat running down my arsecrack like a pig that just had its balls waxed!”
“…by the east gates…” Bryce continued still working to get the words out.
“For crying out loud!” Nattas snapped at him. “We’re way past that part you simpleton!”
“Baron,” Sirio started calmly and dabbed the moisture on his forehead with a silk hankie. “I’m telling you as much as I know.”
Storm sniffed at the air. Is this fool wearing perfume? Lavender?
“Maja is coming here,” Nattas tested him. Sirio failed to act surprised.
“That’s… auspicious,” the historian said pretending at indifference.
“Sirio I’m going to break your fingers,” Nattas warned with a snarl. “How did you know?”
“She writes me.”
“Letters?”
“Of course,” Sirio replied and checked on his fingers with a frown.
“Why?”
“She’s my partner,” Sirio said a little passionately. “My wife.”
Nattas blinked and then pursed his mouth. Caught Bryce and Grin nodding with their heads in approval at the historian’s response and groaned. He wiped the sweat under his goatee with the hankie, down his neck and to the collar.
“Where’s my nephew?” He asked at the end of it.
“He’s decoding the missives from Alden,” Moore said and placed two cups on the table. He then poured some wine in them from the bottle Grin had bought at the tavern. Storm glanced at the label. Blinked once and then checked again. The dark glass bottle was engraved in gold details and had something written he couldn’t make out.
“Grin!” Nattas barked abruptly and the lackey was heard approaching. “This isn’t a Flauegran wine.”
“Told him to give me his best wine chief,” Grin replied defensively.
Nattas licked his dry lips and grabbed the fancy bottle to look at it. Brought its exotic long and slightly curved to the left neck to his nose and sniffed deeply at the lip. He then tried to read the label. Storm could make out an ugly castle at the background with beautifully engraved letters forming a single word under it and a numeral.
3400.
“Well it’s not ours for sure,” Nattas finally said and Sirio stooped near him to read the label. Storm glared at the historian caressing the engravings on the glass with a finger. “Want some privacy? It might hit the good spot.” He taunted him with a leer.
“These are Imperial letters and date,” Sirio replied absentmindedly. He poured some in his cup and returned the bottle to Nattas.
“An old wine then?”
Motherfucker bought me sweet-smelling vinegar.
He had one job.
“Not really,” Sirio said and sipped some. Licked his lips and had some more. A tick re-appeared on the Baron’s face.
“Grin!” He barked, anger slowly building up in him. “How much did you pay for this shit?”
“Ahm,” Grin took his time to get it out and a nervous Storm palmed his pockets to find his purse.
“Where’s my coin purse? I gave it to you!”
“I have it here chief.”
“Give it to me you dork.”
“It was an expensive wine chief. You told me to get the best—”
“Stop!” Nattas growled and brought the bottle to his mouth to sip at the wine. He glugged some of it down. Kept at it until he burped and realized the taste of fish was gone. “What the fuck?” He exclaimed. “What’s in this?”
“Can I taste it boss?” Moore asked sounding interested.
“No. How much Grin?”
“I talked him down to three Eagles.” Grin replied quickly.
“Silver?” Storm barked irate although it was flavorful enough to warrantee such a price.
“Gold,” Grin whispered.
Nattas poured the rest of the wine in his cup, the bottle had a long curved neck but a small container and held about half of what a normal bottle could carry. So the price was exorbitant.
“Moore. Punch him in the gut,” Nattas ordered. “And get me my purse back.”
Moore turned already swinging for Grin. A pained grunt and the man doubled over whilst Sirio, now sounding a little inebriated said in an appreciative tone.
“It reads ‘Aranel’, the label on it and the year. The current one actually. 194,” the historian explained and Nattas noted not particularly happy seeing that his own wine was nowhere near the quality. But it was cheap. Brothel-friendly price. Storm mused. So there’s that.
“What does it mean? The word,” he asked the grinning Sirio Veturius.
“Princess.”
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“I wasn’t informed,” Sirio insisted and got out of a front pocket a small comb made out of sandalwood, he then used to fix his oiled hair.
“Where did you find that?”
“The Augusta brought gifts for the officers.”
“For the whole Legion?” Nattas taunted.
“The LID officers,” Sirio explained. “She’s very friendly.”
“I’m sure,” Nattas grunted. “When was the decision made?” He asked returning to the matter they were discussing.
“I don’t know.”
“What does it mean? A Quadrumvirate?” Storm insisted.
“It is a committee for the army controlled territories.”
“Like Kas.”
“Yes.”
“Why are the rest involved? Your uncle is heading it Sirio!” Storm hissed angry.
“Baron, I can’t exactly ask him about it without raising suspicion,” Sirio protested. “I think I’m being watched.”
“You are probably. When is… my daughter arriving?”
“Today.”
Nattas rubbed his face hard with both hands, then wiped them with the hankie. “What is Ramirus working on?”
“Most resources are dedicated in finding Jeremy’s killers.”
“Marc Laudus did it,” Storm helped him. “There.”
“The King wants to learn who was behind,” Sirio argued.
Of course he does.
“You could help in that,” Sirio continued. “It might open the door.”
“I’m not in the army,” Nattas grunted. “And I have a feeling this is to be a private club.”
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Sirio left an hour later accompanied by Bryce and Moore. Parkor arrived just after the historian had departed to inform Lord Nattas that a ‘man from Illirium wanted a word’. The meeting was set by the docks, where several of the ships had moored these past days bringing in different delegations, with the large Galleass standing as a dark beast despite all the oil-lamps lit on its deck. As Lord Nattas had guessed, the meeting moved on the ship when he arrived at the always busy Aegium docks, the shoreline extending beyond the facilities towards the many taverns occupying the city’s sandy beaches. Storm hated climbing up slippery ramps or walking on decks and moving surfaces of any kind.
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“I told them,” Lord Stan Brakis boomed and got up to grab the sweaty Storm’s shoulder. The man’s fat fingers digging in to the bone. Is this brotherly love? “Our Nattas can brave a ramp haha!”
Yeah, so do those soon to be killed you pregnant sealion!
Storm removed the Admiral’s heavy hand from his shoulder with a grimace. “Reckon, I’ve risked my health enough my Lord.”
“Ah, no need for such decorum,” Brakis said and pointed at an armchair inside the captain’s cabin. It was located inside the ship’s aft-castle. “Have a seat Baron.”
Storm walked after the heavy-set Duke and took his time to sit down. “My man,” he started but Brakis dismissed his query afore Nattas had the time to fully voice it.
“He’ll be fine. You’re safe Nattas. I have enough marines here to launch an invasion haha!” Brakis chuckled and then sobered up immediately. “I was jesting.”
“I took it as a jest,” Storm replied a little uncomfortable and feeling like he was more abducted than invited to the meeting. “To what I owe the late night invitation?”
Brakis stared at him for a long moment. The cabin though rather roomy for a ship’s office, was very hot and the candles burning made the atmosphere heavy with smoke. The two small open windows behind the Duke of Illirium letting some of the fumes out.
“You can live on this ship,” Brakis informed him and Storm grimaced as he wasn’t of the same opinion. “Take it across the ocean without fear of losing the wind,” the overweight nobleman continued.
“I’ll say that the wind is what scares me the most.”
“You don’t favor ships?” Brakis resounded in shock.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Storm replied shifting in his leather armchair and with his eyes tearing up from the fumes. “But I prefer a steady surface under my feet due to my condition.”
“Ah, yes. Forgot about that,” Brakis said and uncorked a bottle of liquor. He poured some in a small bronze cup. “It’s mint-flavored rum,” he told the watching Nattas.
“I’ll pass dear Duke.”
“Hah. Flavia uses that. Sounds different coming from a man’s lips,” Brakis said with a smirk.
“She likes to endear her audience.”
“Yep, she does. I don’t mind her,” Brakis replied eyeing him.
“I don’t mind her too?” Nattas chanced to go along with it.
“Um. We don’t care about the priests Baron. Right?”
Storm was getting increasingly more uncomfortable with the affability emanating from the Duke.
“I’m not known for being the most devout. Not to all Five of them. It’s difficult given their differences. A man gets confused where to draw the line.”
“It’s all pretext,” Brakis said and downed the rum in a go. “Something to keep the people busy. We know more about the gods right Baron?”
Alright, Storm thought. That’s the second attempt to rope me in Duke. What’s going on?
“It’s a nice touch naming the ship,” Storm started. “But it won’t work out there. Abrakas shall take what he wants. Anything that crosses paths with him.”
Brakis nodded once. “I had to tell the truth to the King.”
“Ursus lies are not the truth,” Storm replied not falling for the trap. If that’s what it was.
“A man I had in the palace said the Queen looked rather bloated those weeks,” Brakis said looking at him.
Listen up you sweaty piece of lard, Storm’s eyes warned him over the heavy desk. I’ve a blade in my cane and I’ll shove it down yer throat afore your marines reach me.
But then Storm would be dead as well which only fools would count as a win.
Leave it as a last ditch resort. A final fuck you just before the end.
Abrakas, did you pick sides ye tentacled mollusk?
“She was stress-eating,” Storm said pushing back in the armchair. “The Queen Regent had been taking weight it is true.”
“Is there a kid out there?” Brakis asked and Storm grimaced. “You might get in trouble Baron. Lord Doris was there. Would he lie for you?”
“He doesn’t need to lie. Only to save his neck,” a sweaty Storm hissed. “He has no credibility and no ships to soften the King to him.”
The latter a jab for the flushed Brakis. The Admiral poured a second shot of rum into his small cup.
“Laudus got cornered in Irde,” Brakis said looking at Nattas intently.
“How do you know?” Storm asked playing with the silver pommel on his cane.
“The Bank of Trust issued an alert to all its offices,” Brakis replied. Mclean & Merck had an office building in Illirium. “For mercenaries and bounty hunters.”
“Alright,” Storm said. “Good on them. Sounds like Laudus might be fucked.”
“You don’t understand,” Brakis argued. “The order is to apprehend a former employee, not Laudus. Lear Hik. It is believed he has gotten to Laudus first.”
“The name is vaguely familiar,” Storm murmured trying to find the angle and the reason he was sitting inside the warship in the middle of the night.
“He’s disgruntled. A murdering sadist and torturer. A well-known fact. Murdered Mclean’s son according to an eyewitness. A Baron’s daughter is missing and they fear the worst. His only chance to survive might be to concoct a wild story that will give him Lucius’ protection. Say he tosses an imaginary culprit or two into the mix. A collaborator or a non-existing master mind. A man desperate like that might say or do anything given a promise of safety.”
Lord Nattas shifted nervously in the armchair. Are there no good news to come today? The fucking day is over! “Lucius would never believe a clumsy lie or ask for one made up for other reasons.”
“Baron, your enemies might throw your name into the pot,” Brakis explained.
Ah.
“Or yours,” Storm retorted with a snarl and Brakis shrugged his broad shoulders. “Where is Lord Doris?” Nattas hissed as that was a huge loose end for different reasons.
Plug your leaks, the ghostly Larn had told him.
“He’s heading for Eplas,” Brakis replied. “A little nugget to help you. You have reach there Baron? You might want to look into it.”
Nobody has you blasted whale!
“Does this mister Hik know the former Lord Treasurer?” Storm asked in deep thought.
Wait. Hmm. Maybe there is someone.
“Doris had many deals with the Bank and was with King Alistair in seventy three. Lear served with the 300. The company.”
“Could the man escape the Bank’s agents?” Storm asked.
“Who knows?” Brakis shook his big head. “I don’t mind him making it all the way here,” he added casually. “I’ve good standing with the king to defend myself. But… you Baron, I don’t know,” the Admiral stopped and looked at a spot above Storm’s head. Nattas swung his head around half-turning the armchair and saw the wooden door’s sides were hugged by sculpted tentacles, the monstrous Kraken’s eye painted black at the header. “Comes a time, when it’s one coincidence too many my friend,” Stan Brakis continued and Storm felt a newfound respect for the plump Duke. A ruthless man knows to hide under a mirthful character and over a hundred kilos of lard.
We were never friends, Storm thought and clasped his hands on his cane to force himself up. Other than the fact we pray to a vile god that slept with his own daughter –repeatedly- we have nothing in common.
Or maybe we do.
“I appreciate the warning Lord Brakis,” Storm said respectfully standing up and taking a moment to get his legs under him. “I shall look into the matter.”
“See that you do,” the man counseled soberly.
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