“I’m not turning over my sword,” Magiere stated flatly.
Though he hated it, Chap was in agreement with Brot’an, and he looked up at Magiere.
—Guards—at the door— ... —Guards—inside—and—grates—on all—windows— ... —Wynn—sent us—here—with—good reason—
Magiere made no move to hand over her falchion. “I want to talk to the owner, this ... Delilah,” she demanded.
“I’m sorry, but madam is not available,” Mechaela answered. “I assure you, the rule is without exception. I also assure you that first and foremost of all services to our guests is their safety.” He paused briefly and became firmer. “You are safe here. Now ... please?”
The young man held out his hand. It was directed toward Magiere’s falchion, and he did not retract it at her hesitation.
“Oh, just give it up already,” Leesil muttered, but, strangely, he locked eyes with Brot’an, not Magiere.
Chap neither liked the house rule nor Leesil’s duplicity. Certainly the old assassin’s own weapons were well out of sight—unless the host called the guards to search him.
Leesil broke the standoff and unstrapped his blades to drop them on the countertop. When he turned back, Magiere followed suit—but with obvious resentment. Leesil joined Wayfarer, who was now staring off into the parlor.
Mechaela cleared his throat audibly, and Magiere halted. Her unnaturally pale face darkened, but she finally reached behind her back, beneath her cloak, for a weapon the young man must have spotted. Magiere pulled out the white metal battle dagger, sheath and all, at her back and slapped it down on the counter.
Chap looked back over his shoulder and ...
With Wayfarer hanging on Leesil’s arm, they both gazed through the parlor into the room beyond it. Chap peeked around the girl’s legs as he heard Mechaela say, “Very good. I will show you to quiet rooms on the upper eastern floor.”
In the parlor, the woman gowned in gauze stood beside one gentleman and rested her hand on his shoulder. As the man dropped two more gold coins on the table and added to a startling amount already wagered, the woman glanced aside and noticed those watching her.
She smiled softly and winked at them before turning her attention back to the game.
Chap went cold inside.
Worse still, though Wayfarer straightened in bafflement and looked up at Leesil, all he did, still watching, was raise an eyebrow in response. Whether that wink had been for Leesil or Wayfarer—or both—Chap hoped that ...
A vicious exhale sent a chill down his spine to his tail.
“It’s ... it’s a domvolyné!” Magiere snarled right behind him.
Wayfarer flinched and looked back at her as Chap was trying to think of a way to head off what was coming.
“What?” Leesil exclaimed, still looking through the parlor. “No ... Wynn would never—”
Magiere’s hand smacked the back of his head.
As Leesil spun, he nearly jerked Wayfarer off her feet. “Hey! What was that for?”
Chap grabbed the girl’s other wrist in his jaws and tried to pull her toward the stairs, where their host waited and watched. At least he could get the girl out of the way and thereby perhaps draw Magiere off.
Wayfarer clung to Leesil’s arm in confusion and looked between him and Magiere.
“Majay-hì ... Chap—stop!” she said. “What is ... dom ... domvol ... ?”
Even for the girl’s good grasp of Belaskian, it was an old and obscure term.
Chap tugged on Wayfarer again as he warned Leesil. —Do not—
Brot’an cut in. “Let us go to our—”
“It’s a ‘house of leisure,’” Leesil idly answered the girl.
Magiere, incensed, shot back at him, “It’s a brothel!”
Chap wanted to groan.
“What is a brothel?” Wayfarer asked.
Everyone, even Magiere, stalled in silence, and then she stormed off up the stairs past a visibly uncomfortable but smiling Mechaela. Wayfarer glanced after Magiere, looked at Leesil, and then stared once more at the scantily clad woman in the far room.
The girl’s mouth slowly dropped open.
“Oh ... oh ... you!” she gasped.
Leesil frowned and then suddenly turned aghast. “No, wait ... I wasn’t looking at the—”
“You ... you ...” Wayfarer sputtered at him in outrage. She snatched her hand from his arm and whirled to rush off. She grabbed Magiere’s arm along the way and pulled her in a race up the stairs.
Brot’an unfolded his arms with another long exhale and followed them. Mechaela hurried upward, not looking at Leesil even once, though he still had that sly smile on his olive-toned face.
Leesil stood in shock, mumbling, “I wasn’t looking at—”
Chap stalked away up the stairs.
Leesil did not catch up until the host had walked them to their two rooms down a long hallway. Mechaela opened both doors and handed a key to Magiere and then Brot’an.
“Please let me know if I can have food sent up or anything to make your stay pleasant.”
Brot’an stepped into the first room. Magiere entered the second, and Wayfarer followed her. But when Leesil tried to enter, the girl turned on him through the half-opened door.
“You ... shame!” she accused. “And Wynn, too ... shame for this place ... and you for ... Oh, you!”
Wayfarer slammed the door in Leesil’s face.
—Half-wit—
Leesil stabbed a finger at Chap’s nose. “Don’t you start. You know exactly what I was—”
Chap snapped at the extended finger. Leesil jerked his hand back, and Chap scratched at the door. Before anyone answered, Leesil opened it and stormed inside—and stopped cold.
Wayfarer sat on the end of a huge, fluffy bed, while Magiere stood beyond, with her back turned, at the grated window.
“I wasn’t looking at the woman!” Leesil shouted. “Did you see the amount of coin on that table?”
Magiere turned her head, narrowing her eyes.
—We—know— And Chap hopped up on the bed behind Wayfarer, but the girl did not know Leesil as well as he and Magiere did.
“I do not believe you,” Wayfarer said coldly, looking away as she crossed her arms. “You were ... are unfaithful.”
At that, Magiere’s ire faltered. She swallowed hard, fighting to suppress a smile, before she said to him. “Either way, it’s not going to happen. So don’t you even think about it!”
Leesil looked around at all three of them and slapped his hands to his head.
“We’re running out of coin!”
“Humph!” Wayfarer twisted away from him a little more. “Liar!”
Chap couldn’t help a little ambivalence. That Wayfarer still did not believe Leesil might be amusing, but what he’d said was true. They were low on money. However, they also could not afford another of Leesil’s fund-raising schemes.
Magiere took a deep breath and rubbed her face. “We’ll figure something out,” she said. “But not—”
Two knocks at the door were followed immediately by the twisting of its handle. Brot’an entered without invitation and looked at the bed. Stepping closer, he pressed his hand down until it sank into the puffy bedding, and he shook his head in disgust.
“Worse than the annex at Chathburh. How do any of you sleep?”
Chap ignored him.
Leesil only frowned. “The price of having any meals brought up may cost more than the rooms. We should go out and bring something back.”
Being frugal didn’t carry any weight with Wayfarer. “I will stay here,” she declared.
“Brot’an stays with you,” Magiere added.
—Then—I—stay—and watch—Brot’an—