It was several hours later and fortunate that they had the link to argue across.
No, I will not!
Cloot, you have to trust me
, Tor implored.
What? That you’ll catch me on a cushion of magic should I fall, or that you’ll cast a spell to patch me up again?
Cloot just stopped short of sneering. He hated heights and what Tor was suggesting was outrageous.
Tor reached across and squeezed his friend’s hand.
No, trust me that I won’t let you fall in the first place.
Where you go, I go
, Cloot grumbled with weary resignation.
Now look, I’ve worked it out and I’ve done a run-through. All we have to do is cross the rooftops for a couple of buildings and then I’ve found a way we can get ourselves to street level relatively easily.
Oh, and one more thing. You’ll be wearing a skirt and shawl—they’re in there.
Tor pointed to a sack in the corner.
He left the room quickly, snapping closed the mindlink before Cloot roared.
There was one final task to complete prior to their pre-dawn escape. If his directions were right he needed to make his way down towards the port and a brothel called Miss Vylet’s. He found it, attached to The Lookout, an inn popular with those who arrived in Hatten by ship and the ships’ skippers. Tor expected it to be a roughhouse part of the town but the buildings were well kept.
Walking into Miss Vylet’s he reeled from the noise of a hundred or more loud conversations above the din of drunken singing. Tobacco smoke caused a bluish haze to settle around the drinkers and merrymakers. Scanning the room for Eryn he could not see her and felt a knife of disappointment slash through him. He pushed his way to the inn’s counter and ordered an ale. He paid his coppers, turned his back against the counter and leaned on his elbows, watching the activities.
There were various women, dressed provocatively in low-cut silks, serving drinks and meals. Some were sitting on laps and lighting pipes for the patrons. Miss Vylet was a clever woman: the ale was good and the smell from the kitchen told Tor’s experienced nose that she ran an honest inn, which ensured its patrons returned over and again. She not only took their money for food, drink and accommodation but next
door could take their money for the satisfaction of other needs.
To encourage her guests’ desires, she had her pretty troupe of girls showcasing themselves most efficiently. He watched one fresh-faced young woman in a scarlet gown that hugged her perfectly proportioned body superbly, deliberately lean low over a table to gather up the mess of three wealthy men who had finished eating. The man closest to her got himself such an eyeful of smooth, pert breasts that he was ready to negotiate the price on the spot. The girl knew of it, of course. She caught someone’s eye up on the landing and was strolling off arm in arm with the man before he could think it over.
Tor followed her glance upstairs and saw a straight-backed, slim woman of some sixty-five years seated there. Her dark, roving eyes took in everything. She caught his look and acknowledged his smile with an amused arch of her eyebrow.
She had to be Miss Vylet.
When Tor turned back he noticed another pretty woman had already taken the scarlet girl’s place and was busily clearing the same table. Yes, Miss Vylet was a very clever woman, he concluded. And rich, no doubt, for the money changing hands over the counter was brisk and plentiful.
He drained his mug. As he shouldered his way towards the door he knocked someone’s arm, causing his ale to spill. Tor apologised and the man good-naturedly waved the mishap away and bent to wipe the froth from his pants. As he did so Tor caught sight
of a familiar cascade of raven hair. His breath caught to see her in animated conversation with a man upon whose knee she was perched. The man he had tipped ale onto stood upright again and Eryn was once more lost in the crowd.
Tor moved closer to the door and into a better position to see her. She looked ravishing and her companion was laughing at some story she was telling while tracing a hairy hand along her spine which was only vaguely covered by a crimson gown. She was laughing as she teased him. Tor seethed. He had no right to but he felt a fury grip him dangerously.
A woman squeezed by, carrying a small tray of drinks. Tor touched her elbow to get her attention.
‘You couldn’t afford me, sonny,’ she said, not unkindly. ‘But believe me, I’d love to.’
Her amusement and innuendo diffused his fury immediately. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,’ he said.
‘Oh…well, pity.’ She smiled.
‘I’m wondering if could you tell me whose lap Eryn is sitting on…er, that is if it doesn’t break any rules here.’ He needed his grin to work its charms this time.
‘Well, we’re not supposed to but…’ The hesitation told Tor his charms were in good shape. ‘Where is she anyway?’ she said, looking around.
‘Over there, in the corner.’ Tor nodded his head in the direction but deliberately kept his back to Eryn.
‘Oh, yes. Um, that’s Captain Margolin. Adores Eryn. Always visits whenever he’s in Hatten, spends up big in here and refuses any other girl.’
Tor felt grim but he made sure his expression did not betray him. He grinned. ‘I see. Am I pushing my luck to ask you the name of his ship?’ Tor was thinking fast now, his smile gleaming at the girl.
‘Let me think now. Well, you would have to double-check with someone who knows it for a fact but I think she’s called the
Majestic
. Why, is something wrong with her?’
And that gave Tor his plan.
‘No, I…er…simply have a message for Eryn, that’s all.’ Tor tried to sound offhand.
‘I’m her friend, Elynor. I’ll pass it on but you’ll have to be quick.’ She nodded towards the balustrade on the floor above. Miss Vylet was watching them.
Tor shook his head casually as if considering her offer. ‘Look, thanks but don’t worry, I’ll see her a bit later.’ Tor feigned a smile and made to leave.
He heard Elynor snort. ‘You’ll be waiting a long time, handsome. Margolin buys her for the whole night.’
Tor felt sick. He hurried into the cool night air, dragging in a lungful of it to clear his head and nostrils of the noise and smoke. This was stupid. He should just forget her and go back to his inn. He looked up the street and as he did so a young lad trotted past him. Tor whistled him back.
‘Want to earn a duke?’
‘I don’t whore.’ The boy could barely be eight years old and his reply shocked Tor.
‘I don’t remember asking you to…er…’
‘Well, that’s what most people are about in there,’ the boy said, nodding his head towards Miss Vylet’s. ‘If it’s not fucking the girls, then they’re after fucking some lad and I just likes to be up front wi’ them. I live around here and gets asked all the time whether I’d like to earn a penny or two.’
He stared at Tor who was lost for words at that moment.
‘So, tall man, how do I earn the duke?’ The boy clicked his fingers towards Tor’s face as if to bring him to his senses.
‘Well, shorty,’ Tor replied, regaining his wits, ‘I’ll give you a duke to go into this inn and pretend that you’ve run all the way from the dock. You must find a captain called Margolin, who is sitting in the alcove two windows down from where we stand, and tell him there’s a fire aboard his ship. It’s called the
Majestic
. Tell him he’s needed immediately. Run out as fast as you can and I’ll meet you on the next corner and double your money.’
The lad blinked once. ‘You’re on. Where’s my money?’
‘Oh no, you don’t. Let’s run through it again.’ Tor couldn’t imagine he had the plan down pat.
‘Look, mister, do you want this job done or not? I’m late and much as I’d like a few extra pennies it doesn’t make a ha’peth of difference when my mam’s skinning my backside. Yes or no, I don’t care.’
The cheek of him. Tor pulled out the money, dropped it into the boy’s small palm and told him to hurry. He was inside before Tor could say more, a
look of contrived panic suddenly fleeting across his small face. Tor watched with amazement through a window as the boy gave a brilliant performance, pushing dramatically through the legs of drinkers, even stumbling once and daring to wink through the glass. Tor had to move to the next window to catch the finale. At first the captain looked bemused, then his expression changed to alarm as the boy’s tale unfolded, his arms waving and eyes wide and bright. Margolin pushed Eryn off his lap, dug into his pocket and tossed her some coins, then remembered something and turned and kissed her hand before pointing towards the door in explanation. The boy took off between the legs of people and tables and the captain was unable to keep up.
Tor quickly ran up the street and hid around the corner and within seconds his small accomplice scampered around as well, grinning gleefully.
‘You owe me another one,’ he said, not even out of breath.
‘And I’ll pay it gladly. You seem adept at this sort of thing.’ Tor liked the kid with his mad thatch of black hair and green eyes. He gave him a third coin.
‘Cor! Three!’
‘You earned it. What’s your name?’
‘Locklyn…Locky.’ His eyes gleamed at the money in his hand.
They could hear Margolin running in the other direction towards the dock. The conspirators laughed.
‘I’m Tor and you were great.’
‘Hope she’s worth it, Tor.’ Locky’s grin spread across his face and then he winked and was skipping off.
‘Hey! Hope your mam doesn’t spank you too hard,’ Tor called after him.
Locky looked back over his shoulder. ‘I lied, I don’t have a mam. My sister looks after me!’ And he was gone.
Tor strolled back into the inn and looked for Eryn. Elynor was standing next to her at the bar, both waiting for their orders to be placed on their trays. Eryn looked irritated and Elynor was explaining something to her.
Tor glanced up at Miss Vylet whose all-seeing gaze had been resting on him since the second he had set foot back in her establishment.
You’d better have enough coin to pay for her, young man.
Her voice was calm and deliberate in his head.
Tor could not hide his shock. He stopped and hoped to the Light that his mouth had not gone slack.
I do
, he cast tentatively across the mindlink.
Then welcome to the house of Miss Vylet.
Her lined face creased into the sunniest of smiles and Tor saw in that moment the great beauty Miss Vylet had obviously been in her youth. He found his own grin and flashed it but the smile was wiped when a mug of ale was tipped over his head. He should have felt her coming.
‘You bastard!’ Eryn hurled at him, along with the mug which caught him painfully on the cheekbone.
Heads were turning and those around him were laughing. Eryn had been careful not to splash other patrons with her liquid fury.
‘How dare you!’ She was very angry.
Her hair shone gloriously, Tor noted despite his discomfort, and in another moment of strange clarity he remembered Merkhud’s warning to remain as inconspicuous as possible on his journey. He had taken being conspicuous to dizzying new heights. First the marketplace, then the marriage ceremony, now this. He was tired of it all and his patience snapped. He grabbed Eryn’s elbow and brooked no argument as he angrily led her outside.
He cast to Miss Vylet,
Back in a moment
, and heard her chuckle softly. It was she who closed off.
Outside the air chilled the cold ale on his body further but the more Eryn struggled, the tighter his grip bit into her arm. She stopped, went limp, even pouted.
‘If you didn’t expect to see me again, why this note?’ He waggled a crumpled piece of paper in front of her.
‘I wanted to know if you had the courage to face me again,’ she spat and bent her small finger up and down, suggesting his manhood had never been up to the task.
‘I’m here, am I not?’ Tor could not think of anything less ludicrous to say.
‘Yes, and I wish you were not. Captain Margolin is worth a lot of money to me and you’ve just ruined it. I’ve been waiting since the beginning of summer to see him. You’re hurting me.’
She began to fight back tears, which swiftly killed Tor’s wrath and replaced it with weariness of this strange life he was leading. He let go of her arm.
‘I’m sorry about the captain, Eryn, really I am. I came tonight to tell you that I regret what happened the other evening, which had nothing to do with you, and wish I could explain it better than that.’
He sighed, remembering the eventful day. ‘It’s a day I want to forget, except I haven’t been able to forget how beautiful and funny you are and how much you deserved my apology…And well, now you have it.’
He raked his dark hair off his handsome face and Eryn quietly marvelled at his total ignorance of how heart-stopping he was.
‘Now, I have one gold piece left and it’s yours, which I hope makes up for what you lost from not being with Margolin tonight.’
He dug out a coin, a heavy gold sovereign, and put it in her hand, closing her fingers around it. He bent his head, kissed the hand which held the money and walked away.
‘Tor, wait!’ She tried to catch up with him but he increased his long strides.
Eryn picked up her gown and broke into a run. She finally grabbed him by his damp jacket and spun him around. Light! He really was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on.
‘Tor, please wait…’ She caught her breath. ‘You’ll die of cold before you reach wherever you’re going.’
He looked pained, she thought, and suddenly sad. It began to drizzle and people started ducking for shelter. A breeze picked up across the water and blew straight at them.
He fixed incredibly blue but tired eyes on her. ‘Hurry back, Eryn, or you’ll be the one with a cold and that would be shocking for business, I imagine.’ He winced at his own nastiness and at watching her flinch from it too.
Eryn’s smell and her warm nearness reminded him too much of Alyssa. A great sadness descended on him. He had to go. Her eyes were searching his and he did not know what for. He bent, kissed the top of her head and pulled her hand from his shirt. ‘Goodbye, Eryn, good luck.’