Chapter Forty-One

Brotus woke up with the feeling of the woman in his arms, her bare body against his own, the sheets rustled a little as she moved away from him. Reflexively in his groggy state, he clung to her and she briefly froze before saying. “My Lord, I have to leave.”

His eyes flew open.

“You paid for the night, sir. The night is over, now Par’fellen must go. She has other clients awaiting her services and she must bathe and perfume herself again.” She said, her body had a sudden tension to it that he did not recall the night before, and with his body pressed against her back he could feel the very slight increase in her heartbeat.

Brotus looked toward the window to his room. Along the wall the eight hour candles that had flickered and cast the shadows of writhing bodies the night before were now mere wicks with wisps of smoke rising from their recent deaths, the wax dripped down into the little wax catchers down below. Which for the young merchant’s apprentice meant…

“I’m late!” He cried and pushed himself away from the woman, he flung the covers free yelled, “You tired me out too much! I’ve overslept! I’ll miss my wagons!” Brotus yelled at the elf while he snatched up his trousers and began to yank them up.

“Forgive me, master, I only did my duty.” Par’fellen almost launched herself out of the bed and over to the other side, she began to put her own ‘clothing’ on again and was quickly done. She shut her eyes and braced for a slap as she searched for the way out she’d planned on the night before just in case, even going so far as to ensure that when she’d removed his clothing she’d set it as far away from herself and the door as possible.

“Whatever, I don’t care, I just have to go!” Brotus shouted at her and began throwing on his shirt while the morning light began to creep its way along the floor.

Par’fellen had much the same thought for herself. ‘At least he didn’t beat me or anything.’ She thought and raced from the room before the angry human could change that, she had no care for the flying cloth that exposed more skin than it covered as she fled the inn, and did not slow down until she was in the street and well on her way back, wanting only to scrub yet another human’s ‘smell’ from her skin.

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Brotus made it out of the room not long after and rushed to the front desk. He huffed and puffed as he came to a stop, grabbing the wood and half leaning over toward the old woman who sat behind the top of the elevated counter and saying, “Has the gold from my room been picked up yet!”

True to the expertise of the establishment, the old woman recognized his face and placed him instantly. “Not yet, should we prepare it for transport, good master?” She gave him an encouraging smile and brushed her graying hair aside from her face.

Brotus sighed with relief, his body felt even more limp than after Par’fellen had worked him over the previous night. “Yes, please do. And double quick too if you can. Master Corwin Amber will be along shortly to pick it up and I am supposed to have it ready.”

“I’ll put a triple team to it at once.” She promised and picking up a small silver bell beside her right hand, she rang it three times, prompting three young men to appear one after the other in their close fitting black and white butler’s outfits.

Able to relax at last, he stood by while the money was counted out to confirm that everything was in place. “Now there is one small thing, good master.” The old woman said when they were finally done. “You had a courtesan brought to you last night, we’re going to have to subtract her fee from the contents of the chest. You’ll just have to initial the tally differential… here.” She said and slid the paper across the countertop to him.

Brotus’s eyes bulged when he saw the price. “That much?!” He gasped.

“You wanted the best. Par’fellen is the most experienced in the city. You are a merchant, of course you know, you get what you pay for.” She said in mild rebuke.

Blush returning to his face, Brotus accepted the quill when it was offered to him and signed off on the difference. ‘This will be hard to explain…’ He thought as the attendants took up the chest with heavy grunts and followed him outside to wait on his pickup.

The elven prisoners, as it turned out, were experienced at driving carriages. Speranzi walked beside Corwin as she always did, while her hundred rode beside his wagons, eyes suspicious and mostly hostile toward the elven laborers that had so recently attacked members of the Black Quiver company.

Nor was this hostility lost on the elves, though they responded with quiet patience, saying nothing and keeping their faces blank and eyes only where they had to be.

Skana, for her part, rode on the opposite side of Corwin. No one seemed much in the mood for conversation. If anything, the mood was sullen all the way through the gate and down the long road that would take them to the dock.

They stopped only once, long enough for the last of the merchant apprentices to have the chest of coins deposited into the back of the last wagon and mount it himself.

The coins rattled, and then they were on their way.