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Storm Nattas
We’re back in business boy
Part II
-You need to talk with Dar Tulca-
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The ‘Domus Di Alden’ in Aegium was bathed in light an hour after midnight. So much so that it drowned the light coming from the top of the tower at the center of the city. There were two large verandas attached to the main building and standing on thick carved columns rounding up its shape, one facing west and the other to the east. The walled otherwise rectangular Lorian villa had been built on the east plateau at the edge of the city initially but when the latter ballooned out of proportions and moved towards the seaside, the white made out of marble palace was left behind on the upland along the tower in what was now called the ‘old city’.
It was a five minute ride in the empty streets from Storm’s own property.
Lord Nattas’ horse-drawn carriage was stopped at the guarded gates, the quietness of the square that had been interrupted by its arrival now returning again. The legionnaire sentinel glared at the slow to climb down the few side steps Nattas under the rim of his helm.
“The palace is closed. Come back again in the morning,” the soldier told him.
“I’m Baron Nattas my good man,” Storm replied stooped on his cane. “Here to see the king.”
“Sergeant!” The guard barked over his armoured shoulder.
“What is it?” Came the gate officer’s retort, the square’s serenity defeated again.
“A Baron Nattas is here!”
“And Parkor Nattas,” his nephew added and the soldier glared at him.
“Not on the list,” the officer replied, still hidden inside the small guardhouse by the gate.
There’s a list? At this time?
“I need to speak to the King on two matters of importance,” Nattas explained.
“It’s late milord,” the soldier argued.
“The King is expecting a report.”
The officer got out of the guardhouse. “The king is indisposed Baron.”
Nattas glanced at the illuminated and massive east-side veranda visible beyond the gates. A garden and pavilion standing on columns appearing to float in the air. The Baron knew the lavish villa from the time he’d spent in Aegium whilst serving as the Queen Regent’s Shield.
“I can hear music sergeant... Rufus.” Nattas grinned in a friendly manner, pleased he had remembered his name. Rufus was stationed with Ramsey Kolt’s supply train. “It’ll be a brief visit greatly appreciated by the king whom I have frequently visited in the past.”
“Decon notify Sir Valgus of the Baron’s claims and intentions,” officer Rufus ordered, deciding to kick the canister further down the road.
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Twenty minutes later Storm walked through the columned internal garden and elongated artificial pond to reach the stairs leading to the second floor’s east-facing side. Sir Valgus walked with him, paused outside the doors to speak with a knight standing guard outside the veranda and then signaled for Nattas to go inside, stopping the Baron’s nephew from following after him.
Storm traversed the spacious dining room with the ceiling to floor windows and stepped outside on the partially-shaded by a chiseled stone and marble roof veranda. It was built directly over an atrium and thick glass covered openings on the floor. You could see the enclosed pool under your feet. A garden built over a garden. The two floors of flowers and vines leaked out of the building and into a pergola, a shaded walkway that extended almost to the outer walls of the palace.
The gossip was that a fifth of the water consumed by the city was used to maintain the Alden gardens.
A priestess was holding a mandolin reclined on a curved divan, her soft played cords accompanying the animated Augusta Flavia’s words, with the sitting across from them on a marble couch and clad in a white chiton Lucius listening to her tale with a relaxed smile. Flavia was reciting ‘Beyond Elauthin’ from heart.
Singing it more like.
The important thing I reckon, a cynical Storm thought pausing to listen to the Augusta’s rendition of the famed saga at the edge of the opening, framed by red roses and blue rosemary flowers. Is that no one is naked or sucking cock. Trust Lucius to house two priestesses or more, and discuss mythology with them without all the lewd parts.
Then again the time is late but the night is still not over yet.
“So you believe,” Lucius interrupted Flavia’s tale of a dashing Ebenezer riding across the fabled Nesande’s Garden with a furious Zilan Lord’s entourage hot on the adventurer’s trail. Then he would find ‘the sweetest fruit’ that ‘cured a man’s thirst for a week’, ride ‘a Chimera over the edge of a sheer cliff’ and ‘witness ghosts singing from the top of ruined towers lost in the mist.’
Nattas had missed the King’s query staring at the young Issir priestess’ oiled legs. The nymph thumbed a cord and snapped the Baron back to the present.
“I’ve seen them,” Flavia had replied.
“Here on Jelin?” Lucius asked and glanced at the lurking Nattas.
“The Temple was always visited by Zilan Lord Lucius,” Flavia said delicately. “We knew not all were lost especially near the mainland and their hunting grounds.”
“The lower castes escaped the worst,” Lucius murmured. “What do you think of that Storm? You know Lord Nattas Augusta?”
“We have been acquainted.” She replied evenly.
In all manner of positions, Storm thought with a leer. And with sacred devoutness.
“The poor folk were owed more my Lord,” he replied. “On the scales.”
“Hmm,” Lucius nodded and waved for him to get out of the shades. “Or perhaps it was but a random occurrence sparked by a natural phenomenon, what the Augusta would call… Luthos’ touch.”
When Lucius reached a conclusion in a discussion, the best you could manage was agree or nod, not to make a fool of yourself.
“These are white grapes,” Lucius informed him and pointed at the low ebony wood and ivory table’s plates. “Very sweet. Aegium makes a fine wine out of them but I prefer them fresh.”
“I’m aware your grace,” Nattas replied and sat on one of the small stools across from him. Flavia had gone near the Issir priestess named Brigitte to leave them alone.
Of sorts.
“Two matters of importance. I guess you wanted to make sure I’ll listen,” Lucius commented and popped a couple of grapes into his mouth. Storm spotted the gleaming handle of Endariel, the king’s sword resting in its scabbard near the support of the divan. “I have given myself the night off Storm.”
“Apologies for the interruption your grace,” Nattas said quickly. “I’m informed there has been progress in the search for Jeremy’s killers?”
“Is this the rumor?”
“A tip more like,” Nattas replied and moved on the uncomfortable stool. The insects buzzing and waters running nearby making the nice-smelling veranda garden a noisy place. “Laudus was hiding near Irde.”
“I’m aware,” Lucius said and placed his sandaled feet on the marble tiles. Storm could see an old injury near his knee that had healed. “But no more news since then.”
“Mercenaries are untrustworthy,” Nattas said casually.
Lucius reached for his gold-engraved goblet to have some wine in silence.
Had he been too obvious?
“What is the other matter Storm?” He asked after gazing at a flower arrangement for a while.
“The Queen Regent wants to pay her respects to your late brother,” Nattas replied but got no reaction out of the king.
“Where is Miranda now?” Lucius asked calmly.
“She’ll be in Aegium on the morrow.”
“In just a few hours from now,” Lucius commented. “Were you keeping it a surprise?”
“I had information she was going to arrive but it is difficult to be of service without resources your grace. I’m doing all I can.”
“You lack resources Storm?” Lucius placed his goblet on the table. “At some point you weren’t, while I was away. Yet with all that power in your hands, some things you missed. Was she pregnant? A lot of people seem to believe she was.”
“It’s the easiest accusation to make Lord Lucius so they used it,” Storm replied tensely. “I had to remove her from their clutches since at some point the truth would come out. Then the Queen Regent’s life would have been in danger.”
“Where was she?” Lucius asked.
“She was staying with Maja… my daughter.”
“Sirio’s wife,” Lucius added. “Not exactly a family the Nattas I knew would have picked for her. Back then at least… now, perhaps you guessed right.”
“It wasn’t my decision,” Storm lied. “I had to agree given the circumstances.”
“So you’re a grandfather I hear,” Lucius said with a small smile. “I just can’t fathom how our Sirio would muster the courage to approach your daughter Storm.”
“He’s… sneakily resourceful my lord.”
“Sirio?” Lucius shook his head in disbelief.
“Some women love a good poet or a fragile man,” Storm elucidated. “And he survived reaching your grace which I thought unlikely.”
“Certain men do as well,” Lucius noted. “I suppose we can’t always take someone’s measure accurately. Why would you risk his life?”
“To serve Regia and its rightful king,” Storm deadpanned.
“You did serve Regia,” Lucius agreed and laid back on the divan thoughtfully. “Who do you think benefited the most with Jeremy out of the way?”
“Some people would say your grace did,” Storm replied and Lucius stared at him intently. “Apologies, I’ve spoken truthfully. But I believe those behind it wanted the civil war to end.”
“You were always against armed conflict,” Lucius noted.
“I’m still against war,” Storm admitted. “But I would never have harmed an Alden. You are the family I never had. Vacia’s boys… you were like my younger brothers. What I am today, I owe it to your late Queen mother.”
Nattas had almost teared up at that and he wasn’t faking it.
Lucius stood up and touched his shoulder comfortingly. “Walk with me Storm.”
They stood at the marble banisters at the edge of the large veranda, with its elegant smaller columns under the supports, to gaze at the sleeping Aegium. The black ocean beyond the plateau calm and only a soft warm breeze coming their way.
“Miranda was very fond of Jeremy,” Lucius finally said after a contemplating moment. “And my brother just couldn’t stay away from her. Especially after little Silvie came. They had their small clan within our household.”
“I remember your grace.”
“She must have been devastated after losing her,” Lucius continued. “Then losing my father.”
Storm nodded in agreement although living with Alistair wasn’t the highlight of the Queen Regent’s life.
“Why didn’t she fight them?” Lucius asked and Storm pursed his mouth looking at the two moons in the sky.
“Miranda didn’t want to rule and…”
“She thought it agreeable seeing Jeremy on the throne,” Lucius added solemnly.
“Not much thought was put to it and I think it played a minor role. The Council forced the matter in a day.”
“Why didn’t you stop them?” Lucius asked curious. “You could have vetoed the matter.”
Not really.
“I was forced to agree your grace. Sir Turner had a blade on my neck. The moment Lord Doris sided with them it was over. I’m still trying to understand what happened behind the scenes. After the ‘Conference of Lords’ things moved at a hectic pace.”
“Antoon is responsible for this mess,” Lucius said and grasped the rails tightly with both hands. “And now we might have to fight Horselords in Jelin.”
“Prince Sahand’s Zilan wife started it,” Storm corrected the King. “In my humble opinion.”
“The High King should have decided the matter sooner but he opted not to be open about it,” Lucius argued and then pursed his mouth. “I don’t want Jeremy’s kids living with Lord Ruud at Scaldingport, Storm. The Old Crow supports Elsanne and she’s working with the Zilan. Leading pirates near our shores… do you trust her not to side with the Khan?”
“For the time being she’s ruining his plans your grace. Had the Horselords taken Castalor we’d have them in our doorstep. You considered her idea to strike at the Khan’s supply lines the most viable one.”
“I had the thought afore I learned about the pirate raid,” Lucius retorted and Storm believed he was telling the truth as the King didn’t need to brag. “Why would you suggest we consider talking with Goras?” Lucius asked him next. “That means we’ll have to side with Elsanne. Do you want her taking the throne? We would be in the wrong and we can’t punish Antoon’s kid for the sins of his father. We’ll have Alden blood growing up in Kaltha Storm and under a Queen that is married to a Prince of the Khanate, befriended a resurging Zilan ruler whilst dining with cutthroats. Don’t you see what might transpire here? Even Lesia is worried about what’s happening across the Shallow Sea.”
Storm furrowed his brows, the grimace birthed out of a jolt of pain coming from his knee and reaching his spine.
“I’m a practical man Lord Lucius,” Nattas had replied tensely. “I fear that if we don’t talk with whomever rules beyond the Pale Mountains, then we might have to defend against a wyvern sometime in the future.”
Lucius turned around to look at him surprised.
“Of all people Storm… surely you don’t partake to such tales or believe them without a grain of salt,” he glanced at the sleeping city and the dark Salt Coast one more time and added. “Considering where we are, I find it ironic.”
Storm had talked to a man that was supposed to be dead for years and struck a deal with him. Breathed on a piece of paper and an Assassin’s name had appeared. Seen an old woman shed her years like garbs to turn into a girl with a word and believed the God of the Deeps would turn into a Kraken and fuck you up out of pure spite if you crossed his path.
“I rather fight Horselords or Lord Anker your grace, is what I’m saying,” Storm replied. “Given the choice.”
Storm left a ruminating Lucius behind a little later and hobbled out of the lavish veranda with a pained expression on his face. Augusta Flavia looked at him intently as he walked by the two priestesses and Nattas thought he saw something in her stare that was out of place for the occasion.
You don’t allow yourself to be noticed when you’ve been eavesdropping, he mused with a nod at the priestess. Nor make your position on the matter known.
‘Stay out of this.’
The priestess’ eyes had warned him.
You should be on my side, Lord Nattas’ glare had replied. Since when is the Temple favoring a potential conflict?
17th of Quintus 194 NC
Aegium
Central ‘White’ Square
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Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
> The Sula family arrived on the sixteenth, a large number of them that is, with Duke Paulus heading immediately to the docks to inspect the situation with Demames small flotilla that had moored there hours before they entered the city and the local commander. Captain Delius Sula, the flotilla leader and Sir Opiter Sula, the Duke’s son discussed for a while. There was never going to be a problem since the Illirium delegation stayed on their ships and Aegium was under occupation but also lacking an army to bother the Sula.
>
> Its young Mayor Laran Alden and his older brother Lord Vinicius, the effective local leaders in Lord Doris’ absence, were the Duke’s prisoners for almost a year now. Their families released to Cartagen after Lucius’ intervention. With the day lost to inspections and waiting for another platoon of Demames Regulars to enter the city, the meeting with the King was moved for the next morning.
>
> Centurion Brevis used legionnaires to clean up the White Square in front of Domus Di Alden and the Tower, which meant part of the merchant stands at the south edges and nearby roads had to go as well. Laran Alden was released to help out but the hapless official ended up watching impotent as the army engineers set up a small dome for the king inside the square and several pavilions, his time spent receiving merchants and representatives of local unions that vigorously protested the loss of profit after welcoming Laran back on the job. The road leading up the gentle slope coming from the east entrance (Aegium wasn’t a walled city) was kept open with patrols and road checks were setup to avoid someone sneaking up near while the Duke’s people approached.
>
> Not that anyone would. Paulus Sula arrived fully armed and with ‘an army on the way’ as he declared after refusing to accept Lord Brakis’ presence at the public meeting and entreated that the Illirium ships should be immediately surrendered to his men ‘as compensation for damages done’.
>
> All this afore the herald had the time to properly announce him.
>
> ‘Lord Paulus,’ the King had commented. ‘You’ve worked yourself up to a fervor but you are amongst friends.’
>
> ‘With all due respect King Lucius,’ the plucky Duke of Demames had replied. ‘I’m not of the same opinion.’
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Nattas pushed back on the chair to stretch his tired spine. Brevis had confiscated every chair found in nearby buildings as the initial four large tables had turned to six, each made of many smaller ones and about twelve meters in length. They were placed before the shaded stand Lucius was using. Illirium had taken up one of the sides on the King’s right and Demames used the left. It was mostly a geographical alignment (Demames was in the East of Aegium, Illirium in the west) and not an endorsement for one or the other. It was also supposed to be an open banquet to boost relations.
His back cracked, the taste of garlic in his throat from the excessive Garum used in the meal, fish with sweet onions, unwilling to retreat and he had to rub his eyes to rouse himself. Storm hadn’t slept much the previous day.
“A groveling prisoner,” Lord Paulus was saying in his friendliest manner, fork in his hand pointing threateningly at the bulky Duke of Illirium sitting across from him, the almost two meters of table separating them suddenly not looking so far away. “Can’t dictate any terms King Lucius.”
“There was no groveling!” Brakis boomed. “And we had agreed to a ceasefire Paulus before I reached out to his lordship!”
“You were about to lose and ran Stan,” Lord Sula grunted. They had about the same age with Paulus a little shorter and weighing less but standing as wide at the shoulders. “Or swim away like your boys did at the Knuckle.”
Sir Vel Sextus-Brakis, a dark-skinned Lorian stood up but his father Baron Proclus grabbed his elbow and forced the knight back to his seat.
“It was a strategic retreat, executed by our fleet to minimize casualties,” Stan Brakis replied in his rousing voice. “I don’t see many of your men around Paulus. Or perhaps that’s all you’re left with after getting kicked out of Aegium twice.”
“We came for a raid the first time and left with gifts,” Paulus retorted clenching his square jaw. The Duke’s head had the shape of a cinder block from certain angles. “But we liked the beaches and came again for a visit. The wine, not so much.”
“Must be tiresome marching up and down the coast,” Brakis guffawed, bloated cheeks joggling on his face. “Always looking over your shoulder for our marines to land at your rear.”
“Not really once you get used to it,” Paulus countered stiffly. “I leave machines behind for fools like you.”
“Is that it?” Lucius intervened tossing a towel on the table. “Can’t the Lords of the realm move forward leaving the past behind?”
“I don’t see how we can forgive treason King Lucius,” a grimacing Paulus replied.
“No one is forgiving those involved,” Lucius countered curtly. “But we can bury the disputes and look at the bigger picture. Put the good of the realm over our grievances.”
“We are willing my Lord,” Stan Brakis said pleased.
“I thought you were running out of ships,” Paulus grunted staring at Duke Brakis and stood back on his chair.
“You were never that well informed Paulus.”
“That’s enough Admiral. No more jabs or insults in my presence,” Lucius admonished both of them. “We shall deal with this today, so the kingdom can start the healing process.”
“Demames has been fighting the rebels of the Council for four years,” Paulus said with a glare at the Illirium delegation. “We need assurances another unholy alliance won’t come at us in the future from east and from the west.”
He wants to control either Novesium’s or Aegium’s lands.
Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, Storm thought who had been paying little attention to the rest of the nobles and officers talking in the other tables.
“I shall see what would become of Lord Ursus titles,” Lucius assured him. “His son is in Lesia. I don’t believe he was involved.”
“Huh? Every one of them is guilty,” Paulus scoffed and dropped the fork on his empty plate.
“This is for the King’s justice to decide,” Lucius replied evenly. “He’ll have a chance to defend himself.”
“What about him?” Paulus asked.
Stan Brakis was his meaning.
“Duke Brakis wasn’t present when the decision was made and while I feel disappointed by his actions,” Lucius responded. “His cousin was cut down by Jeremy’s assassins.”
Hmm. Keeping those ships out of harm’s way sure came handy for that fat squid.
“I wasn’t present as well King Lucius,” Paulus argued. “But I didn’t accept their decision. Nor did I stall like old Holt but acted immediately to foil their plans.”
Yeah, but old Holt had a kinky young daughter in hand and was willing to have her be a second wife to Lucius. Whilst Lady Ateia, the Duke’s younger daughter was comely, it was doubtful Lord Sula would have taken the same deal.
Having Paulus for a father in law surely isn’t high on the King’s list.
“And I commend you for it Paulus,” Lucius answered diplomatically. Alistair used to say in private that trying to convince Lord Sula to change his mind was like talking to a deaf donkey. What now? Storm asked the well-rested King, now dressed in his red-plate armour that had the golden Blacktiger’s head sculpted on his chest. “I intent to secure Demames from having to fight on two fronts again.”
Nice vague answer but…
“My king,” Baron Vinicius Alden said getting up from his chair. “I have stated to the Duke that I personally have no animosity for his person and I respect that he released my wife.”
Lady Magdalena Riveras was cute Sandra Alden’s mother.
“Good grief Baron,” a mirthful Brakis boomed from his spot. “He sent her all the way to Cartagen. You don’t have to appear so relieved! Ha-ha!”
The Baron of Saltville, first in line to succeed Lord Doris if Lucius dropped the hammer on Regia’s former treasurer, turned a deep red in the face. Much as it happens in these cases almost four hundred people present that had heard the Admiral’s comment burst out laughing.
Storm wasn’t too enthusiastic about it.
“Well?” Lucius asked Paulus after the jovial atmosphere subsided somewhat. “Can we agree and move on Duke Paulus?”
“My King,” a sobering up Paulus replied pursing his mouth. “I respectfully ask for time to consider my response.”
“Are you leaning towards an agreement?” Lucius asked patiently and the Duke of Demames stared at his silent son and then at the scarred ‘Lord of the Mines’ Drusus. The ‘warrior merchant’ shook his head in a gesture that translated. We’re willing to follow your lead Paulus. So the Duke cleared his throat and answered the expecting king truthfully.
“At this moment… I am not my Lord.”
Storm had to pinch hard at his own leg not to burst out laughing hysterically as this time he had found the deadpan rejoinder absolutely hilarious. It was fortunate that Nattas had succeeded in keeping the chortles hidden, as nobody else present had.
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The rest of the ‘feast of friendship’ went by somewhat uneventfully as Lucius having failed to publicly corner Paulus Sula into a quick agreement opted not to raise the matter again. Nattas stalled in the hope to glean anything more from the officers present but ‘most army guys are pretty boring in their conversations’ so he returned to his villa for a much deserved rest.
Storm had barely closed his eyes the previous night and expected Miranda to appear at any moment, although he hoped the Queen Regent would delay her appearance until Lucius was less bothered with current events.
Or perhaps this is the best time, he thought and carefully navigated the steps of his carriage. Grin jumped next to the driver to head for the stable and Nattas walked towards the entrance. Parkor greeted him from the garden pavilion, his nephew now about twenty five and a tall, not ugly-looking young man. A little frail given he’d a half-working lung but useful enough to have around which was a bit surprising, given that Storm never really believed in his abilities.
“Uncle Storm,” Parkor called getting up, apparently wanting to talk to him a bit more. Nattas clenched his mouth and turned to look at the approaching young man.
“I’m tired Parkor. Something the matter?”
“Uncle,” Parkor said with a smile. “Know that I support your decisions.”
Right then.
And I give a shit about that because?
“That’s… nice to hear,” a grimacing Storm replied already taking back all that nonsense he’d thought earlier about the man’s usefulness. “Seeing as the sun burns my nape nephew…”
“She reminds me of my mother,” Parkor cut him off with a smile.
“We miss her of course…” Nattas started although he’d never really thought about his sister much as they were never close. Five years senior than him she had gotten married to a poor merchant and Storm had been left behind to work the stables. “…although, perhaps we could talk of this inside?”
He didn’t really want to but staying under the hot sun was the worst of the two options. Someone tells you to pick between having a finger chopped off or a finger up the arse, you take the finger up the arse. Nine times out of ten.
The size of the finger does merit some consideration for that one chance you’ll get a larger person.
“I just wanted you to know,” Parkor said interrupting his musings and hugged him tight. It was uncomfortable for both of them but Storm endured it briefly, sweat rivulets running down his armpits and Parkor smelling of ink and wine. He was writing reports whilst drinking Nattas’ wine. Easiest fucking conclusion ever reached since Storm could see the man’s table under the shade from where he was standing.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Storm put a stop to the embrace brusquely. “People will think we’re a couple of poofters making out for crying out loud!”
“Yes Baron,” Parkor replied and pulled back.
With a grunt Nattas put his cane down and started up the entrance’s steps.
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He went inside the open doors, breathed once the cooler air of the interior and then smacked his lips looking for someone to service him. Seeing no one at the near and not in the mood to start yelling, Storm walked towards the staircase leading to the second floor but got cold feet to brave the stairs. He paused and decided to head to the first floor veranda instead, nowhere near the size of the King’s, but it had a couple of bottles of wine and a fine set of armchairs with a view to the front of the house. That meant he had to see Parkor again and the fool might just decide to join him but Storm was willing to risk it.
Upon reaching the door leading outside, he heard noise coming from the small servant bedroom next to it. Thinking that someone was there instead of the kitchen, located at the other side of the house, Storm opened the small door and walked inside. The small room had a bed -now occupied, a table, a cupboard and two chairs -now covered with discarded garbs.
Storm blinked, the sound of a sweaty pair of thighs slapping against soaked hips strong, the smell of coupling equally present and if someone for some reason lacked all other senses but his sight, there was a thin un-athletic man with no meat on his arse on the bed fucking an enthusiastic fit female with equal vigor doggy style.
Putting a lot of dogs to shame.
The brunette woman turned her sweaty flushed face towards the door as a bit of a draft had penetrated the room but nowhere near as much as she was getting penetrated by her partner, blinked at the sight of the leering Lord Nattas watching them resting on his cane and then gasped in alarm.
“He’s here,” she said slapping her lover’s shoulder to stop him.
I’ll be damned, Storm thought, the smirk vanishing from his face as he’d recognized the brunette and then her partner. “What the actual fuck is going on?” Nattas barked in frustration, nor that it wasn’t blatantly obvious and the startled Sirio yelped in panic. He jumped away from Maja, engorged phallus swinging here and there, reached the edge of the bed and then toppled backwards. Feet over head to land on his face on the floor with a thud.
“Curse you Nattas,” Maja snapped and jumped up as well, sweaty tits joggling and rushed to help the groaning Sirio up. The historian had attempted to spear the floor with his cock. It was a marble-tiled floor.
“Sweet… daughter,” Storm hissed looking at the assassin’s naked bottom. “There are guest bedrooms upstairs.”
“Just step out for a moment you creep!” Maja retorted sounding frustrated. “Couldn’t you just knock or stay the fuck away?”
Storm could see she was genuinely upset.
“It’s my house,” he reminded her.
“Fine. Can you give us a moment?”
“Sure,” Storm said and turned around to walk outside. Maja followed and shut the door behind him with a loud bang.
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Ten minutes later
Sirio sat on the armchair wearing one of Lord Nattas’ robes and Maja parked on his legs wearing only her ancient pendant. At least the woman kept those fit legs closed and had her arms over her breasts.
“Dear cousin,” Parkor started walking onto the veranda from the front garden and pausing undecided on whether to comment or not at the scene. “Ehm.”
“Just go back down,” a peeved Nattas told his nephew. “And get through those darn reports!”
“I finished?”
“Check them again?” Storm taunted and sighed while Parkor nodded afore walking back down to return to the pavilion. Lord Nattas scratched at the side of his neck with the middle finger, the other hand resting on the pommel of his cane and stared at the couple in silence.
“Want me to put something on?” Maja teased having regained her wit.
“No I want you to pace the yard showing cunt and tit in abundance so the neighbors can tell me all about it,” Storm retorted sourly. “Better yet, maybe the King will spot you passing by and decides to take you in as a concubine or wife. That would be a fucking twist in the plaguing story!”
An alarmed Sirio popped his disheveled head behind Maja’s right shoulder.
“Lord Lucius would never—”
“You weasel. Shut yer mouth.” Nattas cut him off, but immediately counseled in a calmer tone. “But do keep your ears open.”
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Maja asked angrily. “You know how much he risks trying to help you?”
“No, I don’t,” Nattas grunted. “But I know that without me both of you would be dead.”
Maja narrowed her eyes.
“Sirio give her my robes and then go inside to get dressed,” Nattas ordered brusquely.
“He promised to take me to the beach.” Maja complained.
“Are you serious?” Storm snapped not believing his ears. “What is this? Free holidays by the seaside? We are fighting for our lives here and you want to go on a hand to hand walk with the paramour?”
Maja jumped up and walked towards him. Storm raised his cane and stabbed her below the navel with the tip to stop her.
“What do you want?” Maja asked squarely without batting an eyelash.
“Why did you let her come here?” Storm rustled and lowered the cane.
“She wanted to. Sir Rottas volunteered to stay with Silvio. Do you wish for her to feel trapped?”
“I don’t care at this junction whether she feels trapped or not,” Storm retorted. “We can’t control every moving piece at this point dear. I need more time.”
“Griet told me Lucius looks to move on,” Maja said wiping some of the sweat under her left breast. It was very distracting.
“Griet is an assassin that knows fuck all about politics,” Storm hissed snapping his eyes back to her smirking face. “Lucius is changing things around.”
“His mind is on finding Laudus,” Maja argued. Oh, great. Parkor is talking to her now. Absolutely fucking brilliant!
“Laudus might be dead and we might have some desperate idiot bounty hunter that could implicate me in the plot,” Storm snapped.
“Why you?” Maja asked and grabbed the robes Sirio gave her to put on. The historian had returned wearing a pair of pants. His skin pale like snow, but for his thin arms. He looked like a four-limbed centipede with glasses.
“I’m universally hated and an easy man to point a finger to.”
“People hate lots of other scumbags more than you. That’s not an answer,” Maja said and snatched Sirio’s head to kiss him fiercely. “My sweet husband. Look at him blushing!” She exclaimed in the flushed historian’s face.
Fuck’s sake.
“Brakis seems to think I might end up taking the fall for Jeremy,” Nattas murmured dryly.
“Why would this bounty hunter point a finger at you, if he knows who the real culprit is?” Maja queried gesturing for Sirio to bring her a goblet of wine from the veranda’s stone cupboard.
Nattas stood back on the armchair. “Why would he? I don’t know. Maybe he gets paid to lie? Say, by Lord Doris.”
“How would Doris contact him? Isn’t he on the run?” Maja asked and sat on the other armchair. She crossed her legs after gathering the robes higher. “Why risk it with Lucius?”
“You have some good points there,” Storm admitted. “Still we may need to take certain measures to secure no feathers are ruffled.”
“Lucius would want to know.”
Storm stared in her freckled face. Maja could turn into a very-old woman but she wasn’t old per se. “Why the black hair?”
“It’s the Nattas family color.”
“What do you mean?” Sirio asked her returning with a bottle and two goblets.
“Yes daughter. What do you mean?” Nattas taunted her and the ex-assassin rolled her eyes.
“I have my mother’s hair dad. Right?”
“Wow, you could have remembered that at least,” Sirio told Storm accusingly. Had he been standing closer to Lord Nattas, the historian would have gotten smacked on the head with Storm’s cane.
“I need someone to look into this person,” Storm said after breathing out to calm his nerves down.
“I’m retired remember?” Maja teased him pleased that Sirio had stood up for her. Some women could be real stupid sometimes. Nattas supposed men could be real stupid as well on other times.
“Can’t Griet do it?”
“She’s guarding Miranda. You need a contract,” Maja reminded him.
“Surely you can take care of that,” Storm argued.
“Ahm. No I won’t. You need to talk with Dar Tulca for more details,” she argued. “He’s taken over. You know I’m out.”
“I could arrange for you to return,” Nattas countered and Maja started laughing. “What is so fucking funny?”
“You actually believe you can control the Guild?” She asked him.
“I can talk with Larn.”
“How? You might not see Larn again in your lifetime fool. And Dar Tulca operates on Eplas for years. I doubt he’ll bother talking to you. You’ll be lucky if anyone shows up.” Maja scoffed and sipped at the wine. “Fuck it, I don’t care. What you did burned me. But also gave me an out. Few survive their service.”
“You expect me to believe…” Storm groaned in frustration. “How do I contact this new management?”
“Same as before I reckon,” Maja murmured and got up. She reached for Sirio’s hand and clasped it tightly. Then dragged him towards the inside of the villa. “Don’t bother me again today Nattas,” she warned him.
“What if Miranda arrives? What then?” Storm barked at their backs frustrated and Parkor returned to the veranda bringing a stack of scrolls with him.
“Sudi is with her,” Maja replied. “Whatever you need he can make happen. Ask Griet.”
Abrakas’ thick tentacle!
“What does that even mean?” Storm griped.
But Maja and Sirio had disappeared inside the house.
Great. We’ll have a gathering of the cripples, the aroused and the challenged… Storm paused his inner monologue to stare at his nephew. “Is there a blank piece of parchment in there?”
“Yep, there is.” Parkor replied and searched the stack. This motherfucker is pretty useful. Cheap also. “There is some text at the top but I can cut the rest of it?”
“Go on then,” Storm urged him with a smirk.
“Why do you need it?” His nephew asked using his teeth to tear at the parchment and a still sneering Lord Nattas had answered.
“We’re back in business boy.”
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