Warlord Lewd raised his gaze, but kept his teeth clamped around his hot flickering tongue. He could feel the sparks of a thousand closet insults scattering across his wet palate, but he held them in. He softened his stern gaze and concealed it behind his most diplomatic mask. He swallowed hard, “We are at the sheik’s service.”
“Do not be so hasty to presume the guild still has need of your services!” the mogul shot back, “The sheik is currently weighing the value of your unopposed rule. We have yet to see whether the scales still tip in your favor. Shall we say that several of your competitors have suddenly begun to accrue more weight..?”
Warlord Lewd sprung to his feet. His eyes a raging inferno, he momentarily lost control. “You would dare threaten me? I ought to cut out your tongue, you shrewd tongued harpy!” He held his clenched fist shaking over the button that would activate the Sharkgates. Send this swaggering braggart and his well-heeled guard plunging to their deaths!
The Merchant Knights drew their gold-laced blades which flashed in the torchlight. Lewd’s thugs unsheathed their own weapons and a tense standoff ensued. Krulle stood sword and whip drawn in front of his master. The view of the shrewd Mogul was blocked as Kishrub’s and Zulbash’s monstrous forms took position behind the Hand, their huge blunt weapons twitching in their big green fingers. Even his diplomat Yessheeran had drawn his dagger. The warlord was impressed at their loyalty even in the face of an institution as powerful as the Merchant Guild.
The Merchant Knights eyes flickered nervously across the throne room. Lewd could see the beads of sweat dripping down their foreheads. They were far outnumbered. It appeared that Shamite gold only ran so thick. Yet the order to attack stayed on the tip of the warlord’s tongue. It took all his willpower not to activate the trapdoor and turn the mogul into fish bait. He knew if he indulged in this pleasure now, the wrath of the Merchant Guild would come swiftly. The sheik would unleash a mercenary force the size of the army of mighty Doljinaar. He might as well kiss his throne goodbye.
A young brash Braznian knight raised his sword. He stepped forward.
Krulle cracked his whip and caught the blade.
The Merchant Knight surprisingly managed to keep his grip and the whip pulled taut, but he could not wrest control back from the assassin. The Braznian smiled back, but he made a critical mistake.
Lewd’s Hand yanked the sword away. He whirled around in a split second.
Warlord Lewd ordered, “Stop!”
Krulle’s blade stopped just a hair shy of the Braznian’s neck. He drew just a trickle of blood from the man’s swelling Adam’s Apple.
The other Merchant Knights stepped forward.
Lewd’s thugs replied in kind.
The mogul strode almost too casually around his knights and locked eyes with the Warlord. A snaky grin stretched across his thin lips which crawled deeply under Lewd’s skin. Warlord Lewd was furious with himself for losing control, even more furious he could not lash out against this mogul. It took every ounce of his self-control not to wipe that smug grin of the man’s face. ‘Even the king,’ he reminded himself, ‘even the king of Doljinaar must pander to these scheming, conniving Shamites!’
“Stand down all of you,” Warlord Lewd said, “we are not enemies.” He shot a cold hard glare at the mogul. “At least not yet...”
“I have been commanded to give a report to my sheik regarding your plans to deal with this bold upstart,” the mogul replied, “it might be hard to appease his demands if I am not present to bear the news.”
“No blood shall be spilt here,” Lewd said far sterner, “put your blades away!”
Lewd’s Hand spun back around. He retracted his whip. He shoved his jagged sword back in its scabbard. Yessheeran and Lewd’s other thugs holstered their blades. Kishrub and Zulbash lowered their brute weapons and heaved disappointed sighs.
The Merchant Knights sheathed their golden swords, but the beaming smile never left the mogul’s face. “I’m glad we could keep this civil, Warlord,” he mused, “the sheik does not like it when his petty accounts misbehave.”
“Tell your sheik that I am using all my local resources to silence this upstart,” Lewd replied coolly, “and I have another specialist coming in.”
“Perhaps not all your local resources, the Shaltearan Brotherhood maintain a local presence here in Kurn. The Shaltearan Quarter is crawling with assassins just itching for a chance to prove themselves against a peer of Shade’s caliber.”
‘Stooges! Mere stooges,’ Lewd thought, ‘none of the Shaltearan here in Kurn would stand a chance against an assassin the likes of Shade.’ The Shaltearan Quarter in the Thieves Quadrant was used as a recruiting post for the guild. It was a dive of bumbling hopefuls; Lewd had seen it with his own eyes. The most promising assassins were trained in Capital Doljinaar. Still, the brotherhood had to have trainers of some value here in Kurn. His eyes flared. The very suggestion was still an insult! He cast a glance at Krulle. There was not a Shaltearan in the city who could handle his own hand-groomed assassin.
“Thank you, Mogul, I will take the matter under advisement.”
“But you can no longer afford to sit on your laurels,” the mogul said, “the stability of the underground is sliding fast from your grasp and yet you do nothing!”
“Oh, I’ll act alright,” Warlord Lewd growled, “perhaps it’s about time I unrestrain my Hand. Krulle, go and deal with this swaggering braggart!”
Lewd’s Hand bowed and crossed his fists across his hard cut chest. He growled low, “At once, your headship.”
“He’d better succeed for your sake,” Mogul Irrathane said as Krulle left, “for powers are at work beyond the devices of the reigning sheik.”
And Lewd hadn’t the foggiest clue what the mogul meant.
Mogul Irrathane paced nervously up and down one of the back sewer tunnels, which in his estimation lay far too close to the haunted Mage Quadrant for comfort. He was not in the sewers of Mithralmora, but he was close enough to hear the screams of horror. He froze again as another bloodcurdling scream of some unfortunate drifter echoed down the tunnel and then went eerily silent. ‘What witchcrafts are the Black Robes up to now?’ he wondered. He was scared out of his wits. He didn’t know why his contact always insisted on meeting in such horrible places. He could hear rats squeaking in the darkness. Disgusting!
Irrathane held his skirt above his ankles like a pampered schoolgirl. He stamped angrily for being forced to wait. He jumped as he heard another shrill ear-piercing scream. It took all his self control not to empty his bladder in his skirt. He had forced his servants to cover the lewd floor with six layers of thick needlepoint velvet and still he couldn’t shake the filth off. He saw distant torchlight flickering down both ends of the corridor where he had stationed his Merchant Knights. He deeply desired to have them at his side, his troves of servants tending to him, but he could not take chances with prying ears, not with this appointment.