Kuth’s been giving me his disapproving look the whole way here, and I’ve done my best to ignore that itching feeling it gives me but I’m reaching the end of my patience. Clenching my first tight enough the knuckles crack, I give him a hard sidelong look, letting a little flicker of sooty flame escape between my lips as I speak. “All right, out with it. What’s eating you?”
“This guy?” The half-orc doesn’t waste any time voicing his opinion. He looks pissed enough to spit, in fact, but at least he’s got sense enough to keep his voice low under the circumstances. “He looks like a fucking accountant. We’re really taking a job from this spineless bureaucrat?”
“Long as he can afford to pay us, shouldn’t matter who hires us, remember?” I keep my voice as low as his, but given my own inherently deep, husky timbre I know full well it carries all the same. “You never had any complaints about this part of the job before.”
“That was before that last job for that pompous wanker … what was his name? The one with the bad hairpiece.”
“Haaleth?” I arch a brow at that. “That was six months ago. We’ve had some pretty good gigs since then.”
“Maybe, but we were still lucky to get outta that one alive. Fucking idiot didn’t have the first clue what he was even sending us into, they never do. ‘Least the merchants and the crooks got some idea about what they’re asking us to do before we find out for ourselves.” He rubs his shoulder absent-mindedly, and I know he’s remembering the claw-wound that’s long-since mended from that particular clusterfuck.
Yeah, I can’t really blame him. That stupid little shit … fucking idiot hired us to help his family clear out something that was pestering one of their mining interests in northern Paech. Turned out that something was a particularly nasty pack of dire-wolves. Three of us got pretty shredded before we were finally able to break that unexpectedly desperate little siege, and poor Rathi was torn up so badly we had to leave her behind in Brigid’s Temple in Fidherin to take up our next job in Lith. I miss that sneaky little bitch, she was the best thief I’ve ever seen … while she still had a right arm and the use of both her legs. Those clerics really are miracle workers, but even their goddess can only do so much when a person gets that mangled.
“You’re really sure about this, though?” Kuth sits forward in his chair now, the leather of the thick, well-upholstered seat cushion creaking a good deal louder than I’d really like. I find myself having to adjust my position a little myself, these chairs aren’t really my kind of thing. “He smells like a politician. Y’know how I feel about those pricks.”
“That’s because he is a politician, unfortunately.” I let a deep sigh of my own go as I sit forward too, letting my arms rest across my knees as I look over at our latest client, who’s currently still deep in closely whispered conference with one of his overdressed peers and so very much keeping us both waiting.
“Kuth, look … the money is five times what we’d normally be earning. Usually when someone’s willing to fork out that kind of cash, it’s going to be something a little different from the usual caravan security, pest clearance or the occasional discreet little murder made to look like an unfortunate accident in a tavern brawl or botched robbery. So yes, it’s likely to be something heavy, but it’s worth it this time. Aren’t you at least curious?”
As he looks at me for a few loaded moments, I find myself a little lost in Kuth’s striking amber eyes. He’s been a little standoffish with me this past week, but then he’s never been fond of ships and it was the fastest way for us to get up from Hedesh. He spent half the journey puking over the side and the rest giving me the cold shoulder, and even though we’re comfortably on land and well-fed again he’s still not come around yet. Freya knows I’m more than a little frustrated by now, I haven’t been fucked in a week and it’s starting to make me cranky.
Finally he looks down, puffing out his cheeks as he shakes his head. “Shit, Dram, I dunno. Just sounds dangerous to me.”
“You know what, Kuth? You can be a right moody bastard sometimes.”
His head snaps up as he fixes me with quite a look, for a few moments I’m not sure if he’s going to start shouting at me or just start sulking. Then a slow smile spreads across his face and he barks out a gruff little laugh. “You know me too well, clearly.” He looks at me again, a few more beats, and this time his gaze has softened considerably, although it’s starting to become a little bashful now. Finally he let out a sigh and drops his head again. “Shit … I’m sorry Dram. I’ve been a proper cunt to you since we set out, and you don’t deserve it. You’re only looking out for us, I know that.”
I start frowning at that, and I’m about to offer up my own apologies when he just leans across quickly and reaches up to my face before I can react, his hand gentle on my cheek as he moves in for a kiss. It’s not a quick or light one either, he’s clearly as hungry as I’ve gotten because he kisses me deep, and as I start to respond with my own tongue I feel my loins starting to warm up quite quickly. I’m wet almost instantly, I know that much right away, and I thank Thorin I’m mostly wearing leather so it won’t start to show as he starts to pull me closer to him with more force and I let him …
A very loud and particularly persistent clearing throat somehow manages to pierce through my deeply aroused mind after a few moments and I pull back fast, quickly remembering exactly where we actually are. We’re in one of the most exclusive gentleman’s clubs in Rundao, high on the Hill and very much at the sufferance of strict rules of conduct. Never mind the fact we’re a pair of scruffy sellswords in a high-society establishment we have no place at all being in. I break away from Kuth gasping, it genuinely hurts to do it because I’m so unfulfilled, but I’m deeply determined to put on the most professional face I can as quickly as I can, and as I look up at him I see Kuth is doing the same.
Taking a deep breath, I turn in the chair again and half-consciously check myself over as I look up at whoever it was just made their disapproval felt. Shit … it’s the boss man himself …
Refik Hontiresk stands before us with his hands folded at his waist, mostly invisible under the long, voluminous sleeves of his dark grey silken robe of office. I haven’t seen him for many years, when I was last in Untermer he was still an up-and-coming young deputy in the Authority, a good decade before the Occupation, when he was still working for his father. But he clearly remembered me since he called my party in for whatever it is he needs mercenaries for instead of someone more local. Technically we’re very much here on our time, not his, so I shouldn’t really be feeling so uncomfortable about potentially offending him. And yet …
He looks significantly older than when we last met, but then since he’s human that’s to be expected. He was barely in his twenties when we first met, but the wrinkles have set in since, a bit of silvered grey in his ginger hair now, and while his dress conceals his growing gut I can see the fattening in his jowls well enough. Administrator Hontiresk is certainly not a young man anymore … but he still seems just as shrewd, I can see. His pale blue eyes are just as sharp, and certainly as cold – they were definitely colder than his father’s, I remember. When I heard old Pardo had died a few months after the Terrors took power I didn’t believe for a second that it was an accident, I had the strongest feeling his first born son was the one who pushed him.
Looking at him, I immediately realise he knows exactly what I’m thinking, and he simply smiles, a very thin, humourless smile, but a smile all the same. Seeing that’s merely confirmation for me, he’s exactly the kind of man I always thought he was, and certainly not one who has any qualms at all about giving his own father a little nudge down a tall flight of stairs Certainly he’s also exactly the kind of man the Terrors would want to deal with during the first years of the Occupation, with no more loyalty to his own country than he clearly had for his own blood. The only thing a man like this cares about is money, station and power.
I’m under no illusions about the kind of work we’ve been called here for, even if I’m still deeply curious as to exactly what that actually entails. This won’t be legal, not even remotely, and it’s going to get ugly. Most of all, though, he needs someone who knows how to be discreet. After a fashion, at least …
“Mistress Mallys.” Hontiresk gives a clipped, curt nod, and doesn’t offer his hand. Not that I would have expected him to. “It’s been a long time.”
Getting to my feet quickly, I tuck my tail as well as I can as I draw up to my full height, at least enjoying the fact that I’m a full foot taller so I can look down on him. Not that he seems at all fazed by the fact, of course. “Well met, Master Hontiresk. I was surprised to receive your communication. Telegraphs are still something of a novelty in Abharet.”
“Indeed. The Occupation has brought many fresh wonders to Rundao and our lives are improving because of it, so it’s a shame to admit that our neighbours to the south are so slow to catch up. But it was necessary, and even more urgent now, I’m afraid.” He cocks a brow as he examines Kuth while he straightens his own gear, standing awkward at my side now.
Remembering myself, I gesture to my partner. “This is Kuth Cold-Brand, my second. Kuth, this is Master Refik Hontiresk, of House Brethill. An Administrator of Untermer.”
Kuth’s brows shoot up at that as he realises what a big deal our host is. He starts to raise his hand, then remembers himself and gives his palm a quick wipe on the front of his tunic, then extends it towards him. “Well met, Master Hontiresk.”
“Oh, no, he doesn’t …” I falter, already too late to stop my partner from embarrassing himself.
Hontiresk simply looks at the offered hand like it’s something covered with disease, his lips curling somewhat while his nose crinkles. “She is right, of course. I really don’t.”
Visibly deflating, Kuth flashes me a look, but doesn’t hold my gaze, he’s clearly too embarrassed. I want so badly to comfort him over it, but decorum stops me. He finally lowers his hand, while the other scrabbles vaguely at his hip for a moment until he remembers we were both obliged to surrender all our weapons before we were permitted entry. So he can’t even give his trusty sword a little squeeze for reassurance.
“You were saying something about urgency, my lord?” I finally venture, looking to steer the conversation to our business now so I can give my lover a chance to recover his dignity while our host’s attentions are focused in the right direction.
“Yes, of course.” Hontiresk looks to the left and right, regarding the room for a long, wary moment, then steps away. He raises one long-fingered, well-manicured hand and beckons us to follow. “This way, quickly.”
He walks off without bothering to see if we’re following. I cast a quick sidelong glance to Kuth, who’s watching me with caution, and I know he really is uncomfortable in this place. I can’t blame him, this place really isn’t me either. I may have been born into privilege, but I left it as soon as I was capable. It never suited me.
Cocking my head after our host, I start walking, and Kuth falls into step quickly enough. We make our way across this well-appointed if somewhat sombrely decorated lounge, full of plush leather seating and small tables, and as we move I’m well aware of the dozen or more sets of eyes that watch us as we pass. Some are subtle, gazes flickering over the top of news-sheets or expensive leatherbound books, but others are a good deal more blatant, making a show of watching us pass with disdain. Neither surprise me, not only are we out of place here but we’re held in the highest of contempt. Even me, despite my blood. My clothes alone are enough to lump me in with my companion.
For myself, all I do is hold my head high and walk with utmost confidence, the way I was taught while I was still small, before I discovered blades and learned I had a talent for them. As far as I’m concerned these men, every fatuous, self-important one of them, are all beneath me, because not one of them has ever done a real day’s work in his life, or raised a sword in anger, or fought for any cause other than their own advancement. I know full well the kinds of men who frequent places like this, and I see no value in any of them.
So I lead Kuth out of the room as I follow Master Hontiresk into the corridor outside, and he brings us to a door halfway down. He pauses for a moment before reaching out and knocking twice, waiting with his ear close to it for a few moments before finally nodding to himself and turning the nob. Then he steps aside after pulling it open, gesturing for us to go in first.
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The room beyond is a strange thing, my senses prick up the moment I step inside because the sounds around us suddenly seem to grow strangely muffled, and a moment later I realise why. This is a room of luxury just like the rest – outfitted with a thick, rich rug underfoot, low oak table set between four more of those overly-padded, oversized leather chairs, and a small self-service bar set out in the corner with decanters of spirits and glasses cut from what looks like crystal – but all four walls, and even the ceiling are all thickly padded with studded leather much like the upholstery of the furniture. The floor seems to be simple wood, but as I step inside I hear no creaking from the boards underfoot, even though I’m close to two-hundred pounds when I’m naked, which suggests that the wood itself is very thick. There are no windows in the back wall either, even though I’m reasonably confident it’s an exterior wall of the building – the only lighting is coming from small oil-lamps set high into the walls, already burning in anticipation of whoever might wish to enter. To me everything smells of old leather and smoke, but not to an unpleasant degree.
I notice Kuth is casting a similarly suspicious eye at his surroundings, but I’m already working out what this room’s about when Hontiresk quietly closes the door after following us both in. The fact that the door, which is very well-fitted into its frame, is fully padded just like the walls is simple confirmation of my suspicions, especially once I see there’s no keyhole for a lock, only a pair of thick bolts that he shoots before finally turning to us both.
“Interesting.” I find myself musing “Soundproofing. Aren’t you perhaps being a little overly cautious?”
Hontiresk simply gives me a withering look as he laces his hands together again in front and regards us both. “Discretion is one of the most highly prized virtues of those who frequent these hallowed halls, but our business here is far too sensitive for me to simply trust in the absence of even accidental eavesdroppers.” He cocks a brow as he gives Kuth a particularly long, deep examination, and his lips curls just a little after a moment. “I’m still not convinced I can even trust your second, Mistress Mallys.”
“I’d trust Kuth with my life, Master Hontiresk, so I believe you can trust him with your confidence. If you intend to hire my crew, anything you pass onto me now will only be revealed to the others in due course. Either he hears about this now, or he’ll hear it later from me. I suggest we save time.”
His brow can’t go any higher, so he just narrows his eyes for a few moments while he regards me for a little longer. “Indeed … well, I imagine that must suffice.” He strolls past us both now, heading straight to the bar. “Drink?”
Kuth looks at me, seeming surprised, but I simply shrug back. I know our host too well, he doesn’t give the first damn about making us feel more comfortable, he’s offering purely because decorum demands it. I don’t know if he picks up on that, he simply frowns as he watches Hontiresk set out three glasses and select one of the decanters.
“You performed several wonders for my father when he was in office, I remember.” he muses as he pours “Your discretion is of the highest standard. I trust this is something you have instilled in your colleagues moving forward?”
“They do the job admirably, I’ve found.”
Turning back with two crystal tumblers of amber liquid in either hand, he gives me another long look. “They better. This cannot be traced back to me in any way, Mistress Mallys.” He holds one of the glasses out to me, and I take it immediately. Kuth is a little more hesitant when the second is offered to him, and once he has it he frowns down at the drink for a long while like he hasn’t the first clue what to do with it. He’s like most of our friends, I’ve found. He has simple enough tastes, he’s not one for spirits. Give him a mug of ale and he’s happy.
Filling his own glass last, Hontiresk replaces the decanter and finally turns back to us, taking a moment to hold the glass under his nose and breathing deep. He smiles. “Smoky single malt whisky from Ubrekht. Say what you will about our neighbours in the North, you can’t deny they make superior spirits.”
Leaning into my side, Kuth mutters in my ear: “What’s that s’posed to mean?”
“It’s from Tektehr.” I raise my glass and take a little snifter, and I can’t help smiling a little. It’s got a strong, somewhat bitter tang to it, but it’s rich. This is good stuff, I must admit. I venture a little sip, and it’s got a good, smooth burn to it, a little bit of a smoky aftertaste which I was fully expecting. Given my own blood, it’s no more uncomfortable to me than a glass of water.
“Hmmm …” Kuth takes a whiff, and curls his nose up a bit from it. “Smells … weird. What kinda whiskey is this? What’s he mean by smoky?”
“It’s distilled using peat fires. Gives it that distinctive finish.”
Cocking a brow at last, Kuth knocks back a big swallow, and immediately starts coughing. “Bloody hell … what the fuck?”
“It’s a sipping whiskey.” I pat him on the back as he struggles to recover, hacking a little as his normally green face goes somewhat red, his eyes watering. “Take it easy.”
The whole time Hontiresk simply stands by, waiting with surprising patience now as he observes this with just the subtlest twitch of one brow to show his impression of my second. Finally he clears his throat and takes a sip of his own, looking up into my eyes now and cocking his head subtly, as if to urge me along.
Kuth gets his coughing under control at last and gives his chest a few good thumps, finally taking one last hack to clear his throat while he blinks away the last of his tears. He’s still red, but I suspect that’s more from his own embarrassment now since he surely suspects he’s made a complete tit of himself. He doesn’t meet my eyes now as he straightens up again, so I doubt he’d even think about trying to meet our host’s.
“If I may?” Hontiresk sighs after a moment.
Taking the deepest breath he’s probably capable of, Kuth thumps his chest one last time and nods. I try not to look harshly on my lover, I can tell he’s mortified, and the man we’re meeting here is entirely without mercy or understanding. Hontiresk looks at me now and I try to keep my face as stony as I can. “Of course, my lord.”
Nodding, he looks at us both even as he takes another sip, and as I wait for him to continue I do the same. It certainly is good, much richer than I’m used to given we tend to drink cheaper on the road, and I don’t usually like reminders of what I left behind when I ran out on the life that had originally been intended for me, so I’m a little conflicted on how to feel about it. It would be impolite not to drink it, though, so I do what’s expected.
“I need you to kill someone.” He studies my eyes as he says it, and his gaze is as piercing as I would have expected. “As discreetly as possible.”
“You need this to look like an accident like before?” I feel a little bit of a chill at the thought, it’s been a while since we’ve had to do this kind of work, and I’d somewhat hoped that perhaps I was finally past such nasty work.
“Not necessarily, indeed from what I’ve recently been informed I gather you would likely find that all but impossible. But discretion is still necessary. I fear there are a great many unforgiving eyes on my business right now that I would rather were kept blind to whatever you have to do.” He sighs, and I’m surprised by how weary it sounds. He’s not one to show any weakness. “I simply need these people dead, and quickly. But I also need you to do it as privately as you are capable of under the circumstances.”
“Is it someone in the local government? Colleagues, perhaps?” I don’t like the implication at all. “The Guild? Or the Order”
“No.” He shakes his head, as curt gesture as his nods. “Those particular nuisances are mine to deal with, and I must do this in my own way, with great caution. I can’t have you doing that yourselves, it’s as likely to draw attention and I cannot have that either. Your intended targets are men and women of fortune, very much like yourselves. They have made themselves a great nuisance to someone I am, unfortunately, tied in with, someone I cannot be revealed to have any dealings with.”
“Hence the urgency?”
Hontiresk takes a deeper mouthful this time, and bares his teeth for a few moments at the burn, his eyes narrowing, but I suspect he’s done that before. He takes a moment to clear his throat before responding. “When I summoned you, there were only three of them. They were poking their noses where they were most unwelcome, and creating a nuisance. My … friends attempted to deal with the problem themselves and failed badly, and drew unnecessary attention. Unfortunately, since then their number has increased significantly, and the situation has become … untenable.”
“More of them?” Sounds a touch dubious to me. “How?”
“Another party, with similar interests. Unfortunately the two groups found one another and now they are working together.”
“So you want us to deal with all of them?” I draw a breath in through my teeth, instantly unhappy at these implications. This is starting to sound uncomfortably complicated. “How many are there now?”
“Unfortunately, we no longer have an accurate count of their numbers. The best estimate is a dozen, but perhaps there are more. There have been … further incidents, and as a collective group they are proving impressively robust as opponents.”
“So they’re …” Kuth starts coughing again, and he has to clear his throat hard to recover himself. Finally he snorts deep to try and clear his nose and takes a deep breath. “Oh … my apologies, Master Hontiresk. They’re … you say they’re like us, so you mean they’re sellswords?”
“Warriors, yes.” If Hontiresk is offended at being directly addressed by my second now he’s showing impressive restraint in keeping his feelings to himself. “Soldiers of fortune.”
“Real good ones too, from the sound of it.” Kuth adds “Unless whoever these friends o’ yours sent up against ‘em are just … y’know, shit.”
“I’m told the forces that have been levied against them are perfectly capable in their own right, so I suspect these are individuals of unusual … how is it that you put it? Grit?”
Looking to Kuth, I cock my brow, and he does the same when he finally meets my eye. “Something like that, yes.”
Frowning deep now, I look down into the glass in my hand for a long moment, musing on what’s being suggested, what we’ve been summoned to do, should we decide to take this job. Gods know we took a hard knock recently, we’re down one and some of those we have left had to do some hard recovering themselves too. From the sound of it, my one-time employer is asking me to commit people I’ve come to value as friends, more in one case, to what could potentially be an even more costly operation. The money that’s been offered is extremely impressive, but now I can see why. The potential risks are very high indeed.
“Would we be reporting directly to you, or –”
“My acquaintances would be giving you their direct assistance, and I would imagine you would find operating with them to be more practical than attempting to deal with this from a remote distance, so to speak. But in this business you would answer to me, as your employer, not them, so …” He spreads his hands in something like a shrug, a gesture I find startlingly familiar from when I worked for his father. “Ultimately I would leave the particulars to your discretion, of course. I am, after all, already intimately familiar with how you operate, and I trust you have moulded your team to operate in much the same way.”
I look at Kuth again, and he’s watching me very closely now. Clearly curious about how I’m going to go here. He doesn’t look to happy about it, I can see. He doesn’t like this, and I don’t blame him. This sounds like a mess, a potentially costly one for our group which could be even more damaging than the last debacle back in Abharet. And this time we’d actually be choosing it, in full knowledge of the dangers instead of the accidental ignorance that hurt us so bad last time. If any of our people die this time, it’s all on my head.
Growling low under my breath, I knock the remainder of the whiskey back in one, and while it doesn’t burn me anything like as bad as it did Kuth because I’m essentially bred to weather this kind of thing, it still makes me cough a little. I clear my throat and hold the now empty glass out to Hontiresk again. “You must forgive me, but we’ll have to think on it. I trust you understand.”
Hontiresk frowns deeply, hesitating for a long time before finally taking the glass from me. He looks like he wants to spit, but I know he won’t in these pleasant confines, and certainly not in front of me. He works his mouth all the same, like he’s been chewing on something particularly sour, and looks at me with particularly dark eyes for a long beat before finally letting out a deep sigh. “I’ll give you a day to consider it. But I would certainly prefer an answer earlier than that. This matter is most pressing.”
“I understand, my lord. But I appreciate that you of course also understand that this is not my decision alone. Not given the extent of what you’re asking of us. So you can appreciate I’ll want time to confer with my friends, and for us to weigh our options. But most of all, you can surely appreciate that we’ve been travelling for a week and we’re all very tired.”
His eyes narrow a little, but he still nods. “Of course, Mistress Mallys. You are, of course, quite right. You know how to get in contact with me, of course. And I can find you easily enough, should I need to.” He sets my spent glass down on the low table, retaining his own. “But I need this to be done, and you still represent my best chance of success with the smallest amount of further complication. This has already grown uncomfortably out of hand.”
“Fair enough. We’ll think hard on it, but we can’t do it here.” I turn to Kuth again, giving him a nod. He frowns a little, then takes a last little sip of the whiskey and winces a little, although it’s clearly a more appraising one this time. He sets the rest down on the table.
“Pleasure making your acquaintance, Master Hontiresk.” He croaks, having to clear his throat again after. He doesn’t offer his hand this time, clearly reasoning that the usual customary pleasantries won’t be welcome this time anymore than they were at the start of the conversation.
Hontiresk simply gives him a curt nod, the bare second he actually looks at my second speaking volumes about how little regard he holds him in. When he turns back to me his look is more critical now, like he’s re-evaluating me now. Gods know I’ve likely changed some since we last had dealings, and he’s starting to understand that this is more than just what he can make out on the surface.
“Well, it’s been … interesting, Master Hontiresk.” I don’t offer my own hand either, simply tipping him a similarly clipped nod. “Now how do we get out of here?” I’m anxious to be gone from this place, and not just because I definitely no longer feel like I belong somewhere like this. Right now I want to be as far away from this man as I can get, at least until I come to a decision on my own, and see what the others think on it too.
But mostly I’m just acutely aware how badly I need to get somewhere quiet and private with Kuth so he can fuck me hard enough I fall asleep right after …