A Deadly Play

A Deadly Play

Bromm XI

When ships put into the harbor of Torvuls and disembarked their crews, the men flooded out onto the quay in search of entertainment. Some went to the taverns for drinking, others to the gambling parlors for dice and card games. Still others went directly to the brothels, and yet some went in search of higher-brow entertainment. And so it was, on this night, that the young pirate Bromm and his companions found themselves at the Bridge Street Theater, a grand old stone edifice near the East River. Recently reopened under a new patron, the theater was putting on a new play to celebrate the occasion. A tragic romance, it was the tale of Tirnys and Kasimira, a sorcerer's apprentice and his master's prized concubine.

Bromm had been drawn to the theater by sketches of the lead actress on the posters. She was Nessia, a beautiful and vivacious young actress who had burst onto the scene in recent months. Her sketch on the poster had caught his eye and then, by chance, he had seen her in the flesh, entering a bathhouse on Tailor's Street as a small crowd of her admirers gawked, and in that moment he had been utterly lovestruck.

After much haranguing, his friends had agreed to accompany him to the play, though he knew they would rather be gambling or drinking. Their latest voyage had been a great success, and under the stern guidance of their captain Gonnsar they had seized two fluyts departing the Amazon Isles and their cargoes of copper, silver, cotton, and rare Amazonian darkwood. Drunk on the spoils, their crew had spent four days in the great port enjoying all manner of entertainment. Bromm mused that he had only been able to convince them to come to the play because they had already gotten their best gambling in.

So he and his friends stood in the crowded pit before the stage, elbow to elbow with the riffraff of Torvuls, while wealthy men and women looked down from the galleries. The common crowd thronged together, chattering away during the performance as vendors pushed their way through them hawking beer and street food. A handful of harlots plied the crowd as well, their faces painted and their breasts bared to attract clients. Above them in the galleries, the wealthy sipped wine from silver cups, ate spiced meats, and haughtily criticized the costumes, sets, and performances below.

Yet none of those things were on Bromm's mind, however, for Nessia was on stage. She commanded his presence in a way that no captain or bosun ever had and, even with his friends passing around a skewer of roasted lamb, he could not tear his attention away. She wore a dress of red silk, cut low to her navel, with only a thin golden chain keeping it from spilling open to reveal her breasts. Bromm thought back to the bathhouse on Tailor's Street and cursed himself for not following her in to get a glimpse. She surely had a private bath anyway, he told himself.

She stood aloof on stage as Tirnys, the apprentice, professed his love to her character. He pleaded with her to run away with him, far from his master Vercenx, and live a humble life of lovers. She coolly dismissed him, though Nessia masterfully conveyed the concubine Kasimira's hidden love for Tirnys, as well as her fear of discovery. Bromm watched enraptured, until someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Here, Bromm, have some lamb," his friend Tahavi offered, extending a thin wooden skewer laden with bits of roasted mutton. Bromm looked from the savory meat to the beautiful woman on stage and reluctantly pinched a bit of lamb in his fingers and pulled it off the skewer. "It's good isn't it?" Tahavi asked, and Bromm could only shrug.

"You're distracting him, Tahavi," laughed Imre, another of Bromm's friends. "He's come to see the woman in red, let him have his night."

Bromm turned back to the stage. Tirnys had moved closer to her, standing behind her as he laid a hand on her shoulder. Kasimira had warmed to him, her guarded stance softening as she looked longingly over her shoulder to her suitor.

"Kasimira, my beloved flower," said Tirnys, "Bless me with but one kiss, else I shall spend all the long years of the world in melancholy, even if I should achieve the highest knowledge of magic and with it mastery over all men."

Bromm watched, enraptured. He too felt such longing for her, and Tirnys' overly wrought words fell kindly upon his ears. They had the same effect on Kasimira, and she raised a delicate hand to his face.

"One kiss?" she asked. Her voice was soft, but still carried around the crowded theater, even up to the galleries where the rich men sat with their wives and courtesans. "Am I truly so common that a mere kiss would sate your desire for me? Beg more of me."

"More?" asked Tirnys with surprise. "Very well, I confess. I wish the world of you, Kasimira. I wish to kiss you from scalp to sole, I wish to strip you naked and carry you to bed, where I would make love to you until I collapse from exhaustion. I desire you with all my heart, Kasimira, my beloved!"

"That is what I want to hear. I wish to see your passion for me burn. But I fear I cannot. A mere kiss would forever estrange me from my master. I will not sacrifice this life of silk and jewels for a simple kiss."

"Then give me everything!" Tirnys cried. "And I shall give you everything. We shall flee together, to the ends of the earth! For when we have nothing, we shall still have each other!"

Nessia turned away from him, her jeweled necklace glittering in the theater's lamplight. Bromm leaned forward, hanging on her every word.

"Oh, that we could! But my master is farsighted. There is not a corner of the world in which his eye is blind. His arm is long that even should we settle upon some desolate rock in the trackless sea east of Leiyan, he would still come for us riding a flock of ravens and whipping the waves below him."

"Then I will blind him," proclaimed Tirnys. "I know the stones with which he scries distant lands. I will steal these from where they are hidden, and then we will flee somewhere where he will never find us."

"Truly, Tirnys?" asked Kasimira, turning back to him. "You can do such a thing? My master's wards are formidable."

"I am his apprentice," Tirnys answered. "All of his knowledge he has passed on to me. I know where he keeps the scrying stones, I know how to pass through the wards."

"Then we are saved!" Kasimira cried. "Go now, take the stones, and meet me in my chambers. From there, we can escape under cover of night."

Tirnys nodded and hurried offstage. Kasimira clasped her hands over her heart and descended the stage, monologuing. Bromm moved closer, pressing into the crowd that grew thicker near the edge of the stage. Nessia stood so close, he thought that if he reached the stage and extended his arm, he might be able to touch her. It was a game many sailors played when slave girls were stripped naked and sold on the auction block not far from the theater's door, though there the ones who succeeded were set up and beaten by the guards. Looking around, Bromm saw that the theater was no different. Four guards that he could see stood ready near the wings, hands on cudgels and daggers in their belts. He steadied himself and kept his hands back.

He was so close to her now, as close as he had been when she walked past him into the bathhouse, and she looked a hundred times more beautiful than that moment when he had been lovestruck by her. Hands under her chin, Nessia knelt beside a cushioned stool and stared up to the stars.

"Oh, am I so wicked that I should flee my master with his own servant? What a false and faithless concubine am I that I forsake a man who has been so good to me on a fancy of love! A foolish girl I am! Yet..." she sighed. "What higher calling is there than love? The gods number one among them who is Mistress of Love, yet none who are Mistress of Duty. Does that not make love a sacred calling? I should say that it does. Love!" she cried, and the audience murmured in appreciation. Kasimira beamed, Nessia's radiant smile seeming to light up the stage. "I shall commit myself to no other cause for the rest of my life. To love my brave apprentice and spurn my master! We shall flee to the ends of the earth, for even condemned to a humble life, we shall be lovers, and that is a godly thing!"

Rising, she gathered herself and rushed off stage. As the stagehands emerged to change the scene to that of Kasimira's bedchamber, Bromm felt himself returning to the real world as the mirage of the theater faded.

"Sounds like she stole your own words, Bromm," Tahavi teased over his shoulder. He turned around and scowled.

"Someday, you'll meet a woman and I'll remember everything you've said to me today."

Tahavi shrugged. "I've met lots of women. Some of them I've even met twice." He looked around. "We could meet a woman tonight, if you want. There are plenty of streetwalkers waiting outside, some even in the crowd. And then there's the courtesans."

He pointed toward the gallery, where the wealthy patrons of the theater sat, many with beautiful, expensive courtesans by their side. Gonnsar, captain of the ship that Bromm and his friends crewed, sat in a private box, flanked by two elegant courtesans in rich silks as he sipped distilled liquors from a crystal glass.

"We've still got some money left," Tahavi continued. "Perhaps you can't afford one of them, but we could find you a pretty girl in the Lotus or the House of Silk."

"There's pretty girls everywhere," Pyet added. "It's Torvuls."

Bromm frowned, then looked back over his shoulder to where Nessia had disappeared into the wings.

"I find myself lusting not for just any woman this night," he said, and though he could not see them, he could tell his friends were rolling their eyes. "There is one woman who occupies my attentions."

"Suit yourself," Tahavi said with a sigh. "But this meat is delicious. Shall we get some more?"

"Aye," said Imre, "Where's that vendor gone to?"

The stagehands had finished setting the scene, and Bromm no longer cared for the meat on a skewer or his friends' teasing. Nessia would soon be onstage again. He craned his neck over the crowd in front of him, trying in vain to peer into the darkened wings of the theater and catch a glimpse of her, but it was no use.

But he did not have to wait long for the actors soon reentered, Tirnys from one side and Kasimira from the other. Tirnys held in his hands a collection of glass orbs that he fed into a sack.

"It is done, my love!" he cried as Kasimira rushed toward him. "My master is blinded, and we are free to run away!"

"Oh, happy day!" Kasimira reached him and clapped giddily. Tirnys beamed at her, and they embraced. Kasimira pulled away, suddenly guilty. "Vercenx is not a cruel master, but it is hard to love an old man."

"Indeed, and he has not come to love you. He bought you as a plaything, a toy to while away his time. He does not love you as I do!"

"I confess then," Kasimira exclaimed. "I have long yearned for your touch. Take me, Tirnys! Let us become lovers tonight!"

"I have long waited to hear those words!" Tirnys cried. He threw aside the sack of scrying orbs and wrapped Kasimira up in his arms. They kissed, and even from the theater pit, Bromm could feel the heat of their passion. He himself was getting hot under the collar.

Tahavi sidled up beside him. "Envious, Bromm?" he teased, but Bromm paid him no mind. Kasimira turned around, and Tirnys embraced her from behind, kissing her bare neck as he buried his face in her brown hair. His hands explored her low neckline, plucking at the golden chain that held her dress closed in the front. A murmur went through the crowd.

It only grew louder as he reached up to cup her breasts with both hands. Kasimira moaned, and Tirnys pulled her dress down to bare her pink nipples. The crowd cheered, and a chorus of whistles and applause broke out. Bromm had seen a dozen Torvuls plays like this one, but the familiar press of the crowd toward the edge of the stay seemed more intense this time. He elbowed his way through the throng of men, hoping to get as close to Nessia as he could. In his ardor, he forced his way to the edge of the stage with ease and smiled. There was nowhere closer to Nessia now, except for the man groping her before the crowd.

Tirnys lowered her dress further, revealing her smooth white stomach and then, as Bromm heard himself gasp in awe, her bare sex. She was already wet, the moisture shimmering in the theater's lamplight, and Bromm felt his breeches tighten. The crowd roared in appreciation as Kasimira's dress fell all the way to the stage. She stepped out of her silken slippers to stand completely naked onstage, now wearing only her jewelry and a smile.

Bromm licked his lips as he felt his heart quicken. Tirnys was fondling her breasts and kissing her neck, and he felt the urge to vault onto the stage and have his way with Nessia himself. But he restrained himself, though he began to worry that some others in the crowd might not.

His worries only grew as Kasimira knelt before Tirnys and drew his cock out of his trousers. Bromm snorted in derision as he saw that the man's cock was still soft. Who could be limp with his cock in the hands of a woman like that?! he wondered, though then he considered that the actor might be anxious before a crowd. Bromm had seen such before in the brothels when men fucked whores before a crowd.

Kasimira held the man's cock in one hand as she kissed and sucked it to life, all while the crowd whooped and cheered. Slowly, his cock began to stiffen, and she stared up into his eyes as she sucked him. Bromm felt someone shove against his elbow and turned to see that Imre had pushed through the crowd to stand beside Bromm.

"I am starting to see things your way," he confessed over the cacophony of voices. Bromm nodded, but said nothing, his eyes returning to stare at Nessia. She smiled at Tirnys around his cock, and he cradled her head in his hands.

"Let me have you," he said, loudly enough that he was heard in the back even over the roar of the crowd. Kasimira stood up and led him forward by his cock. She spread herself across the bed, laying on her side with one leg raised. Tirnys lay down behind her and slowly slid his cock into her waiting sex. Bromm inhaled sharply, feeling now that it was his cock in Nessia -for he could no longer think of her as her character -instead. She moaned, her eyes closed dreamily as he began to thrust inside her.

It was far from the first time Bromm had seen actors fucking onstage. In fact, in most plays at least one actress took a cock in her, though not always the lead. Sometimes, the playwright satisfied his audience with a scene between minor characters, or girls in the chorus. But nearly every play had something to excite the throngs of lusty sailors who packed the pit. It was what the city's audiences had come to expect, and theater troupes knew that survival meant drawing a crowd.

A cool autumn breeze swept through the theater, and Bromm saw Nessia's pink nipples rise from her breasts. He inhaled sharply, and the crowd around him pressed closer together as her moaning grew louder and the thrusting of Tirnys' cock faster. Her lively breasts bounced on her chest with each stroke of the cock, her upraised leg shaking in her lover's grasp. She moaned as Tirnys kissed her white neck, his hands pinching at her upraised nipples.

Bromm had felt envy for the actor this whole time, but now, as he kissed and groped her, he felt a surge of protective jealousy. This man fucked and pawed at the woman of Bromm's desire, not because of any affection she felt for him, but merely because he had been chosen to play the man who bedded the woman she played. I could have played Tirnys, thought Bromm, and then it would be me up there, fucking the most beautiful woman in the world while he stood watching pathetically from the pit!

But Tirnys continued his fucking unaware of Bromm's rising jealousy, and soon enough the man came inside her. He shuddered and moaned, the sticky white cum spurting out of her to drip along her bare leg. The crowd cheered in delight, those in the galleries beat their fists on the wooden rail and made the whole theater shake. Bromm found himself clutching the railing before the stage in a white-knuckled grip, his cock threatening to cum in his breeches without even feeling a woman's touch.

The two of them lay on the bed for a few moments, Tirnys' cock still hard as he rubbed it against her sex. They kissed, and Kasimira raised her head.

"We should go now," she said, and Tirnys nodded. Suddenly, there was a noise at the door.

"What's this?!" cried a new voice, and the sorcerer Vercenx burst onto stage. He was a wizened man, with a long white beard, a high collar, and a black robe trimmed with gold. Tirnys and Kasimira cried out in terrified surprise, leaping to their feet at his entrance. Kasimira sheltered naked behind her lover, whose erect cock flapped lamely before him.

"Master, I--" Tirnys made to reply, but the wizened sorcerer cut him off.

"Speak not, worm! I took you in as my own student, taught you all that I know of magic, and this is how you repay me?! By defiling my dear concubine? And you, my dear Kasimira... How could you do this to me?"

"I did not seek to do harm, master," she pleaded. "But I love this man Tirnys, and... I do not love you."

Vercenx's face darkened. He took a menacing step forward, and Tirnys stepped forward to meet him.

"You cannot tear us apart!" the apprentice proclaimed, and Vercenx glowered at him, his brow furrowed in anger. Then the old sorcerer stepped back, threw back his head and laughed.

"Oh, but I can! You have not met my most powerful servant. He is a demon of the ancient world, a power that I call upon only in the direst of moments, or in my darkest rages. Now, I shall use him to punish you, my rebellious apprentice and my faithless slattern. You will know the true power of Vercenx, greatest of sorcerers!

"Orrtunath, I call upon you! Your master Vercenx demands you punish these traitors!"

---

Far away, on a blackened isle swept by cold sea winds, eyes of flame flung open. In a long-forgotten catacomb, a sarcophagus of oily black stone creaked and opened itself from the inside. A clawed hand seized the rim, then a mate on the opposite side. Slowly, terribly, a figure raised itself from the shadowed depths. Skin of obsidian caught the light of its own eyes, reflecting it into the gloom of the abandoned, lightless catacomb.

There came a thud as it pulled itself over the rim and fell to the floor. Claws scraped on dusty stone, scratching a trail up the winding tunnels toward the surface. A heavy door of bronze-banded stone barred the way, but the creature dug iron claws into the door and, its black arms creaking with exertion, hauled the door open.

It stepped through into the moonlight, now catching the white rays of the moon on its obsidian hide. It stood atop a high precipice, looking down on a stormy sea. The wind wailed through barren rock and twisted trees. Wide nostrils sniffed the air, the creature snorted, then a pair of great wings unfolded, and it took flight, heading west, toward the one who had called its name.

---

At the window of Kasimira's chamber, there appeared a man. His skin and hair were painted black, and a pair of horns had been glued to his head. He raised his arms above his head, and a pair of stiff paper wings unfurled from his back. Kasimira and Tirnys cried out as he leapt through the window.

"Behold Orrtunath, my mightiest servant!" cried Vercenx. The demon raised its claws before it, advancing on the couple with a snarl. Tirnys cried out and intoned the words of a spell. Orrtunath sneered and Vercenx cackled. "You think to use my own sorcery against my minion? I am ashamed that you call yourself my student. Have I taught you nothing?"