Pirate's Honor, page 20
"Thank you, Mistress Cothos," he said with another bow. He knew what she wanted. The idea of selling himself for the sake of the plan made him cringe, but he couldn't very well refuse. Not when he'd asked Celeste to seduce Benrahi. Still ... "I would be honored to dine with you."
"Very good." She held out a gloved hand, and he shook it. Her grip was every bit as firm as his own. "I look forward to tonight, Captain."
"As do I, Mistress Cothos," he lied as he followed her out of the cabin, realizing that she hadn't even looked at the forged ship's papers.
∗ ∗ ∗
Celeste buried her fangs to the fullest and flexed the muscles that ejected her venom.
"Is that enough?" She peered at the pearly liquid in the bottom of Thillion's jar.
"For now, yes." He slipped the cloth off the top of the jar and inserted a large waxed cork. "I shouldn't need more for a few days, though it seems to go quickly. Thank you, Miss Celeste. I'll let you know if I need more."
"I hate doing that," she murmured as the cabin door closed behind the first mate. She turned to Torius. "It reminds me of being a ...captive." She shuddered at the memory of a cold collar around her neck, being locked away without a view of the night sky, restrained by magic, just for her venom.
"We're all having to do things we don't like to make this work."
She smiled and shook her head, remembering his obvious discomfort with Lothera Cothos. She didn't want to say it, but the irony of the situation plucked her sense of humor. She had been training hard to learn the arts of the courtesan, and now he was going to have to play a similar part.
"What's funny?"
"Nothing. I ..." She balked, not wanting to make him angry. Despite the uneventful sail to Ostenso, he had remained distant. He had responded politely when she had shown him her newly agile fingers, but ignored her subtle hints that they might find interesting ways of testing her dexterity in human form. He had overcome his addiction easily enough, yet he obviously still harbored doubts that he loved her. She knew her own feelings and hoped that time would bring back their intimacy. So far, it hadn't. "I just hope you don't have to do anything you ...dislike with Lothera Cothos."
"I don't think I'm going. Snick and Grogul are going out to drop some lures for Farfan, and I'd better go with them."
"I think you have to go, Torius." She fought to keep her voice calm. "Like you said: we all have to do things we don't like to make this work."
"It's not the same thing! You heard her. You know what she wants from me. I won't prostitute myself for this plan."
"I know she invited you to dinner, and I know that if you refuse her invitation there'll be trouble." His blatant double standard angered her, but she didn't want to set him off and widen the gap between them further. She knew his problem with people who used sex for gain, but she hadn't thought he would balk like this. "We don't know how far I'll have to go with Ekhan, either."
"I'm not forcing you to play this role, Celeste."
"No, you're not. I agreed because this plan is the best way to get what we want—what we need." She stifled her temper and thanked Vreva's training under her breath. "Now you need to do what needs to be done. If you refuse this woman's invitation, she's going to be angry. She'll send a full inspection team to search every crack of this ship. Do you think our disguises will withstand that kind of scrutiny?"
Torius's brows knitted in displeasure. "What if it's not only a meal she wants? You're okay with ...that?"
His tone challenged her, but Celeste didn't allow her anger to show. Nor did she allow the unwelcome vision of Torius and Lothera that flashed through her mind to upset her. She slithered up to him, not too close, but near enough that he could see the sincerity and love in her face.
"I learned one very important thing from Vreva Jhafae, Torius." She kept her voice smooth and calm. "It will get me through my time with Ekhan, and it can get you through this evening."
"And what's that?" His voice was calmer, his ire easing.
She answered with an encouraging smile. "What we do with our bodies need not reflect what we feel in our hearts."
∗ ∗ ∗
"Did you find him?" Torius asked Snick as he worked the latch to his cabin door. He nodded to Celeste as he entered and went straight for his cupboard. He pulled down a bottle and cup, and poured himself a stiff shot of spiced rum. He knocked it back and swished it around his mouth before swallowing. Lothera Cothos smoked nasty-smelling little cigars, and he couldn't get the taste out of his mouth. He fought to banish the memory of the woman's unwelcome attentions; the numbing warmth of the rum that spread to his gut and his head helped. He poured another shot and then put cups out for the others.
"Torius, are you—" Celeste began, but Snick interrupted by answering his question.
"Put out some feelers, Captain." Snick slid into the seat beside the table. Snatching the rum bottle before Grogul could get hold of it, she poured even amounts into each cup for the bosun to distribute.
"That sounds a little vague," Torius said. Celeste declined the rum, her face somber, so Torius poured her portion into his own cup.
"Some local pilferers drink at a place called the Two Pinches. We dropped a few hints with Farfan's name attached. If he's in the city and looking for work, he should show up tomorrow night."
"And if he doesn't show, we've wasted a day." Torius started to slip into the opposing bench seat, then thought better of it. Sitting down was one thing he wouldn't be doing much of for the rest of the night. He quaffed half of the contents of his cup and began to pace. It was late, and though he was tired, he knew he was still too keyed up to sleep. "We've got to get this taken care of and get the hell out of this city. I don't relish dancing on the end of a yardarm if we're recognized."
"We've still got to sell our cargo, Captain," Thillion reminded him. "It was too late when we arrived to—"
"Bothek Imports will give us a good price on the spices," Torius interrupted, "and we've got a deal to buy a cargo of good Chelish wine."
"Well, someone had some good luck tonight." Snick gave him a grin. "You must have been very persuasive, Captain."
"I was." Torius downed his rum and reached for the bottle. He ignored the smiles on their faces. "And I now intend to get drunk enough to obliterate every memory of this evening."
"Was it that bad?" Grogul asked.
"Suffice it to say that Lothera Cothos is probably more your type than mine, Grogul." He leaned against the edge of the settee and winced. "She's ...demanding and doesn't take no for an answer. You were right about one thing, Celeste: she would have been very upset if I'd refused to go."
"So, how was the food?" Grogul asked, struggling to maintain a straight face. He failed, and he, Thillion, and Snick burst into uncontrollable snickers.
"Happy to see that you all find this so entertaining!" Torius slugged back the last of his rum and smacked the cup down on the table. The laughter died like a heart-shot dove, and Torius noticed that his hands were shaking. He clenched them into fists. "Now get out and do your jobs so we can get the hell out of this damned city before Lothera Cothos invites me back for an encore performance, or I guarantee there will be all shades of hell to pay."
He waited until they had left, then lurched off the seat and headed for the door.
"Torius, I—"
"Forget it!" he snapped, interrupting whatever Celeste had been about to say. He glanced back with regret—she was the only one who hadn't laughed at him—but he didn't have time now for a heartfelt discussion. He strode out of the cabin, careful not to slam the door.
Torius avoided meeting anyone as he made his way to the main hold. Lifting a lamp from its peg, he glanced around to ensure that he was alone and edged into a narrow gap between two bales of cinnamon. He took a deep breath of the overpowering scent, hoping to banish the strong odor of tobacco smoke that seemed to be stuck to him. He pulled a small glass vial out of his pocket and popped the cork, then rolled up his sleeve and slid the grooved sail needle that Snick had fashioned for him from the slot in his belt. He opened the lamp and held the needle briefly over the flame, then waved it in the air to cool it off. Dipping the needle into the vial, he watched anxiously as the pearly liquid filled the tiny groove. When it was full, he slipped the needle under the skin on the inside of his forearm. He left it there for a moment, then pulled it free and pressed on the tiny wound to keep it from bleeding.
Within moments, he felt his muscles relax, the tension of the day receding before the rush of Celeste's venom. The stress of spending an evening with Lothera had been trying enough; the laughter from his crew had put him over the edge. He noticed the pinprick from earlier in the day, when he had taken a dose to ease his stress-induced symptoms after the harbormaster's visit. One dose was usually plenty to get him through the day, but today ...well, today had been demanding.
In the lamplight, the skin on the inside of his forearm shone dark and bruised from the repeated injuries, and it was sore to the touch. He rolled down his sleeve and stowed the needle and vial, hiding the evidence of his weakness.
I've got to stop this, he thought, gritting his teeth as he headed up on deck to walk off his mood. But not today ...
∗ ∗ ∗
Torius followed Snick into The Two Pinches and, with one look around, thought, Well, this place looks like fun. He was glad he hadn't said it aloud—his sarcasm might have gotten them killed
In most civilized ports, bars were filled with music, drink, and camaraderie; sailors intent on spending their pay; and fawning ladies and gentlemen of the evening eager to earn their own. Drinkers would be singing sea chanteys, and everyone would be smiling. Here the clientele sat alone or in small morose groups, nursing their drinks with bowed heads or engaged in muted conversations. The bartender communicated in scowls and grunts, and the lone barmaid looked as if she were dressed for a funeral. Torius figured that this was probably the norm around here—the working-class Chelaxians weren't big on cheer, since most ways for poor folks to have a good time could induce a visit from a few Hellknights. And that was the last thing that anyone in this pub wanted.
Torius, Snick, and Grogul sat at a vacant table, and Torius waved for ale. When the libation arrived, Snick sniffed hers dubiously and pushed it away. Torius sampled his and suppressed a cough; the ale was spiked with grain alcohol. Grogul took a swallow of his and smacked his lips.
"Think he'll show?" Torius asked, glancing casually at the dismal crowd. Most looked like dockworkers, but some wore weapons—daggers mostly, but one or two swords, and one woman had a nasty-looking pair of hand axes on her hips. His kind of folks. He just wished someone would smile.
"If he's not here already, he will be," Snick said confidently. "No self-respecting burglar would turn down the offer we put out."
"Didn't know burglars had any self-respect," Grogul mumbled.
"You're just cranky 'cause I got to be your boss last night."
"Why'd you do that?" Torius asked, wrinkling his brow. Sometimes Snick's actions were unfathomable, even after she explained them.
"What self-respecting slip's gonna respond to an offer put out by someone as big as him?" She jerked a thumb toward Grogul. "Short is as short does!"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" the bosun asked.
Snick opened her mouth to reply, and Torius was relieved when she instead nodded toward the corner and whispered, "Company."
Torius suppressed the urge to turn around, trusting Grogul to watch his back until the newcomer came close. He did, however, let his hand drift down to the dagger at his belt. He'd left his cutlass on Stargazer, since its showy silver hilt would draw unwanted attention in a place like this.
"You Snick?" the newcomer asked as he strolled up to the table.
Torius glanced at the fellow, gauging the threat. It wasn't much. The man was no halfling, but he wasn't particularly tall. A single dagger hung from his belt, though it looked more like a sailor's rigging knife than a weapon.
"I am," Snick replied. "Who's askin'?"
"Me? I'm nobody."
"Nice to meet you, Nobody."
His mouth twitched at her comment, and he tossed his head toward a dim corner of the pub. "Back room. A short friend of mine wants to meet you about that business proposition you were circulating last night." He turned and walked away without another word.
"Well?" Snick asked with a raised eyebrow. "Could be a trap, or Farfan might just want privacy."
"Probably the latter, unless you were careless last night." Torius stood and the others followed suit. "You go in first, Snick. I don't want to scare him away before I can talk to him."
"Right." She preceded them to the corner door.
The portal opened into a tidy little room with a table, some shelves, and another door, but no windows. Twilp Farfan sat behind the table, smiling pleasantly. He looked more comfortable in the dark leathers he now wore than he had in the merchant garb that Torius remembered from the Queen's Chalice. Two humans stood at the other door, and they weren't smiling at all. Hired muscle, Torius thought. He closed the door behind him and stepped out from behind Grogul.
"Word is you're interested in my services," the halfling said to Snick, waving to the chair across the table. "It just so happens that I—" He squinted at Torius and Grogul, and his eyes widened.
"We just want to talk, Farfan," Torius said, holding his hands out—open and empty.
"Well, I don't want to listen!" The halfling stood and put his own hand out, but it wasn't empty: a slim throwing dagger gleamed in the lantern light. "Gentlemen, show them the door."
The two goons reached for the spiked cudgels at their belts as they approached, but by the time they took their second step, Grogul had his axe out.
"Wait!" Torius cried, but his plea went unheeded. Twilp let fly his dagger just as Snick barreled into Torius hard enough to knock him down. He took a bruising blow to his shoulder from a chair, but at least the blade missed his throat. As he rolled up, he caught a glimpse of one of the thugs going down, his chest flayed open, and the other backing away.
"Captain!" Snick cried, and he looked to where she pointed in time to see a small trapdoor in the floor drop closed behind Twilp Farfan.
"Crap! Come on!" The door from the pub burst open and two more armed men surged into the room. Grogul turned to face them as Torius yanked open the trapdoor. "Snick! Go! Grogul, come on!"
The gnome dropped through the trapdoor, and Torius followed. He glanced up to see Grogul vault over the table, then lift the stout piece of furniture and fling it at their unwelcome guests. The maneuver slowed the thugs enough to allow the half-orc to drop through the hole without receiving a parting shot and slam the trapdoor behind him.
Torius couldn't see a thing in the dark under the building, but the air was still and humid. Water lapped not far beneath him, echoing off the undersides of the structures above, and there was an unnerving sense of open space. His head cracked against a beam when he tried to stand up straight.
"Snick?" He reached for the pouch at his belt as he heard the gnome's reply.
"This way, Captain! Quick!"
Yellow light flooded their surroundings as Torius freed the light-enchanted stone from the pouch. Beside him, Grogul was jamming the haft of one of his throwing axes through the handle of the trapdoor. They stood on a narrow catwalk of planks that ran beneath the piers of the city. There was only about five feet between the boards and the overhead beams, and less than a foot between the planks and the lapping waters of the bay. Though Snick and the fleeing halfling had plenty of headroom, he and Grogul had to crouch. Looking around, Torius caught a glimpse of the gnome's shocking blue hair off to his left.
"Come on, Grogul." He dashed after Snick at his best speed, which wasn't very good considering his enforced stoop and the slippery water-soaked planks. The dark water looked particularly sinister with his light glinting off the wavelets; the last thing he wanted was to fall in.
"With you, Captain!" Grogul bellowed, and the boards flexed with the half-orc's footfalls.
The narrow catwalks formed quite a labyrinth under the city, and Torius could see how they would be invaluable to a thief like Farfan. He could move anywhere in the lower city without exposing himself to the unwelcome scrutiny of the Ostenso city guard or, even worse, the Hellknights.
"This way, Captain!" Snick shouted again. He tried to keep her in sight without falling or knocking himself out cold on the overhead beams. From the loud thumps and profuse cursing behind him, Grogul wasn't having as much luck. They took turn after turn until Torius was completely disoriented. Then he heard the slam of a door ahead, and a curse from the gnome.
"Damn! He locked it!"
When Torius and Grogul finally caught up, Snick was standing on a short ladder, intently twisting the tools of her trade in the lock of the overhead trapdoor. She didn't seem to be having much luck, and every second they delayed gave Twilp Farfan more time to vanish.
"Grogul! Force it!" As the half-orc edged past him, Torius heard a click from overhead.
"Look out!"
As Torius lunged back and Grogul dove forward, liquid splashed down between them onto the catwalk and into the water. An empty bucket hung from a hinge atop an overhead beam. The liquid was dark in the dim light, but with one whiff, Torius knew what it was.
"Blood!" He drew his dagger and struggled to his feet. "Open that door, Grogul! Now!"
"Right!" The half orc stowed his axe, applied his shoulder to the trapdoor and pushed. The door creaked but held.
"Look!" Snick yelped, pointing at the water. Something large moved beneath the surface, indistinct in the light. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" She drew a small dagger and huddled as far back toward the ladder as she could.
"Open the gods-damned door, Grogul! Now!" Torius prepared to leap the puddle of blood that stained the catwalk—he would surely slip and fall if he tried to walk through it—then froze as the water roiled. Now or never, he thought, and jumped.
