A Poisoned Gift

Up the stairs they climbed, Sahat moving ahead of Ilune, who Bromm noticed was clearly anxious about the impending confrontation. He resolved to keep her out of harm's way and now regretted not leaving her behind. The edge of a brawl was no place for a sweet, delicate girl like her.

They climbed to the second floor in pursuit of Nabbu, though they could no longer see the man. Sahat paused at the first landing and looked about the tavern's second floor. The middle of the room was occupied by private rooms, while tables for drinking or gambling lined the outer walls, none of which were taken by Nabbu or his companions. Dozens of sailors crowded around the tables, drinking, dicing, playing cards, or dividing up the spoils.

Bromm looked to the rows of shut doors, wondering whether Nabbu was behind one of them or if he had climbed to the second floor.

"How do you want to do this?" asked Sahat. "Should we kick in every door until we find him?"

"There are so many others around," Bromm complained. "I'd hate to start a fight with just the three of us here."

Sahat cast a skeptical eye to Ilune, clearly objecting to the number. "How do we sniff him out, then?" he asked.

As Bromm considered, a whore descended the stairs beside them and caught their attention. Like Ilune, she was young, beautiful, and naked. However, this girl was tawny-skinned and dark of hair, with rich brown nipples pierced by golden rings. She smiled at them as she passed them on the stairs, pulling a flimsy dress over her head as she walked. Sahat licked his lips as his eyes passed over her smooth round butt and Bromm felt his breeches tighten at the waist.

"Perhaps we could ask her," Sahat mused as she climbed down the stairs, her little breasts bouncing on her frame with each step.

"I have a better idea," Bromm replied. He took Ilune by the arm and led her to the first door, where he knocked. After a pause, a man opened it just a crack. His annoyed expression turned curious when he saw the naked girl standing there.

"Is Nabbu in here?" Bromm asked with an arm on Ilune's shoulder. The man at the door opened it wider, affording Bromm a view of those in the room.

"Well, hello there," the man crooned, but Bromm pulled Ilune back.

"Apologies, wrong door," he said quickly and moved toward the next one. Looking back, he saw the man staring after them lustily. They went from door to door along the hall until at last one opened wide and Bromm saw Nabbu sitting at a table with four others.

Nabbu sat up in recognition at the sight of Ilune.

"Have you brought her back, sailor?" he demanded, but Bromm pushed her aside and stepped into the room. The man at the door protested and tried to shut the door on him, but the efforts of Sahat and Bromm thwarted him.

"Zyrdun," Bromm demanded, "where is he?"

"What do you want with him?" Nabbu shot back, rising to his feet. "You've already taken his money and his slut, do you want his ship?"

"He tried to kill me last night," Bromm snarled. "And now you'll tell me where to find him."

Nabbu went for his sword and the room burst in action. Bromm heard Ilune squeak in fright, but his attention was fixed on Nabbu's swordarm. He charged the man, bowling him over the couch and crashing into the wall hard enough he feared them might break through to the far side. The others went for their weapons, but Sahat was quicker. His shamshir flashed in the room's lantern light and he laid it against the throat of Nabbu's doorman.

"Lay down your arms!" he snapped. Bromm wrestled with Nabbu for control of the blade, half out of its sheath. He laid his elbow against Nabbu's neck and leaned on it. The man snarled and spat at him as Bromm drove the point into his throat. His eyes bulged and spittle dripped from his mouth. Nabbu butted his head at Bromm, but the force of the elbow against his throat held him back from making hard contact and Bromm smiled a wolf's grin in reply.

Nabbu's grip began to weaken, and Bromm yanked the sword from its sheath. It clattered to the floor and Bromm led Nabbu fall to the couch.

"Where is Zyrdun?" he demanded. He planted his boot on Nabbu's back and pressed. The man coughed and sputtered, feeling the effects of an elbow to the throat.

"I won't forget this..." he wheezed.

"Have you forgotten your captain's location? Tell me and I'll let you and your men walk out of here."

"To the depths with you, Bromm! I'll cut you up and feed you to the sharks!"

Bromm drew his blade and put the edge to Nabbu's ear. "You don't seem to be hearing me very well. Seems like these aren't of much use to you. Maybe I ought to relieve you of the extra weight."

"You don't scare me, boy," Nabbu snarled. Bromm pressed down with the blade. He thought of Eanmasor, gutted like a fish in his borrowed bed. If that had been him instead, would Zyrdun have taken Ilune back with him? Or perhaps the bitter, jealous visling would have killed her as well? The visling would need to be dealt with.

His blade was beginning to draw blood. He saw Nabbu gritting his teeth in pain and pressed down harder with both boot and blade. A line of bright red blood trickled down the man's cheek to his chin. The other three men looked on powerlessly, Sahat's shamshir shining wickedly in the light.

"For Enki's sake, Nabbu! Zyrdun can handle himself against these wretches. Save your ear and tell him!"

Nabbu snarled in reply. Bromm leaned in close. "Your captain can handle me alright," he sneered. "Give him to me and we'll have ourselves a little duel, aye?" When the man did not reply, Bromm grabbed his ear and pulled it taut for a final slice.

"Alright!" Nabbu cried at last.

"Oh, now his ears work," Bromm laughed. "Speak. Where is this captain of yours?"

"He's at the Foundry, getting us new guns for the Kraken."

"How many men did he bring with him?" demanded Bromm. Nabbu grimaced and hesitated, so Bromm stretched his ear tighter against the edge of the saber until he cried out in pain.

"Just a few! But more than enough to kill you and take his woman back."

"Hmm," Bromm mused, letting the ear go. "We'll see about that." He turned to Sahat, who gave him a shrug of bemused triumph.

"That's all we needed," Sahat said. "Shall we?" Bromm nodded and look to Nabbu's unfortunate companions, then back to the man under his boot.

"It shouldn't take me long to get there. But just in case you're lying to me, or you try to get there first, I'm going to keep you here until I get back. Sahat, cord!"

Sahat handed over a length of fine cord that the savvy sailor always kept with him and together they bound the men tightly on the floor of the little room. He tore up one of the Mariner's serving towels and stuffed the rags into their mouths so that they could not cry out. Bromm stepped back and smiled at his handiwork.

"Now, we'll be seeing you soon. And hopefully it won't be to cut off your ears and learn the real location of your captain. Be seeing you!"

Nabbu stared fury around his gag but could do nothing as Bromm and Sahat left the door and shut the door behind them.

"Should we gather more men?" asked Sahat. "Pyet went to the Crow's Nest for a dice game this morning, he may still be nearby. We could pick him up on the way to the Foundry."

"If he's there," Bromm agreed, "But we mustn't lose Zyrdun before he disappears back into the crowds of the city. With his money running out, he's likely to leave in search of more plunder soon. Or come back to finish the job right." He looked down the hall in both directions. "Where is Ilune?" he asked with sudden worry.

"She must've run off when you started cutting on the snake Nabbu."

"Look that way, I'll look this way," Bromm commanded. "Hurry!"

He and Sahat hurried away in separate directions through the hall. Bromm could not spot Ilune at any of the gamblers' tables, and feared she had been pulled away into one of the rooms, or else taken off on her own. He feared for her prospects, naked and alone in a city overrun by victory-drunk pirates. He checked the doors for any sign that they might have been opened to admit her, though he had to admit to himself that he did not know what those signs might be.

To his relief, he found her at a table down the hall, standing before a brawny, gray-skinned orc. Two more pirates were seated across from the orc, smoking pipes as they admired Ilune. She seemed to be enjoying the attention as she turned and stroked her long hair in two hands before them. The pipe-smoking men were glassy-eyed and lethargic, yet their eyes were no less lusty than their sober companion.

Bromm stomped his foot on the floor to draw their attention, and Ilune started in surprise. The orc glared at him, but his companions stared glassy-eyed and slack-jawed. With his saber in one hand, Bromm held out a hand toward Ilune.

"Come, girl," he commanded. The orc turned a hostile eye on Bromm and half-rose from his seat.

"Who are you?" he growled, towering head and shoulders over the girl. Bromm raised his saber halfway.

"Her master. Who are you to take my concubine for yourself?"

"Take? I merely asked her to join us at our table. I admire her body so."

Bromm scowled, but Ilune stepped close to him and laid a pleading hand on his chest.

"Please don't be angry master. I tried to get away from where you were arguing with Nabbu, and Garaz found me in the hall. He just wanted to admire my body, master."

"Aye," the orc agreed. "She is a beautiful girl you have there."

"She is mine," Bromm agreed, laying a protective hand on her shoulder. He stared suspiciously at the orc, who raised a placating hand.

"We meant no offense. Our eyes are harmless. Though if you are amenable, I would gladly pay for some time alone with her. Not much time," he joked, "for it won't take long for her to make me come."

Bromm clutched Ilune to him closely and glared hard at the orc. "Find someone else," he snapped before turning and leading Ilune away. He hurried toward the stairs with Ilune under his arm and his sword still in hand, only stopping when he was out of sight of the orc.

"Don't run off like that," he said when they were away. Ilune's eyes were downcast in shame, and she nodded sadly. Bromm felt his anger subsiding. "I am not angry with you," he said, gently stroking her hair. "I was just afraid I had lost you. This is a dangerous city."

"I was not afraid of Garaz, master. I liked being admired, actually. He is... grotesque, but in an appealing way. His muscles..."

"We should go," Bromm interrupted. Images of the girl being harshly fucked by the big, muscly orc sprang unbidden into his mind and he could not banish them easily. Sahat had found them again and Bromm took it as his cue to leave. Ilune nodded obediently and he ushered her down the stairs and out of the Mariner.

Bromm cast a wary look behind him as they exited the tavern, but caught no sight of the orc, just a handful of other sailors ogling Ilune as they passed by. Sahat took the lead as they wound through the back streets toward the Crow's Nest, a seedy tavern in the area of the city known as the Buckets. Here the buildings hung high overhead and even at the height of midday, the streets were narrow and dim, though thankfully free of the masses of drunken sailors that plagued the main thoroughfares. Peddlers and shifty characters peered out at them from shadows, their eyes on Ilune, who was taking more confidence in her nakedness now. She smiled to herself as men's gazes followed her down the alleys, her cheeks redness apparent even in the dim light.

They arrived outside the Crow's Nest to find it a raucous scene. Sailors hung over the upper balcony, drinking, singing, and banging on the tables in time with the song as best they could manage in their drunken state. A few beleaguered servers moved between them, desperate not to get too drawn into the revelry. A topless whore sat in the middle of the balcony, surrounded by a knot of angry sailors. Fists were shaking between them, and as Bromm watched, a punch was thrown and soon the sailors were brawling. Other sailors jumped in and, while they were distracted, two previously uninvolved sailors swooped in and escorted the whore away to a bed.

Bromm stopped across the street, peering up at the balcony from a hidden perch in the alley.

"I don't want to take Ilune in there," Bromm said. "It'll cause a riot."

Sahat nodded with slight amusement. "Good idea. I'll find Pyet and bring him out. You two wait here."

Bromm and Ilune slipped into a recess in the alley as Sahat crossed the street to the tavern. Out of sight, Bromm took the opportunity to fondle Ilune's young body in the shadows. Her supple flesh was soft and smooth in his hands, and she purred with delight as he ran his hands all over her.

"Touch me, master," she whispered. Bromm felt his heart flutter. He wanted to yank down his breeches and fuck her here in the alley, but the thought of being discovered by rowdy pirates from the Crow's Nest dissuaded him. Yet the sight of her was enthralling.

"I need to get you some clothes," he muttered. Ilune blushed.

"It's not so bad, actually," she replied quietly. "I am beginning to enjoy the way men look at me. I hated when Zyrdun showed me off like a pretty jewel. He was cruel and liked to torment me, pinching and spanking me. He made me crawl naked along the deck of his ship while his men stroked their cocks at the sight of it... it was demeaning."

Bromm looked on her with pity and pull her close into a protective embrace. He felt his anger rise and knew that killing the visling would be all the sweeter for the revenge.

"But you..." Ilune continued softly. "With you, it's different. You are kind, master. You make me feel beautiful."

"You are beautiful," Bromm admitted. "But not everyone is as kind as I am." He thought of the orc at the Mariner. "You must be careful with men, especially here in Torvuls. They all want to fuck you, and only some are generous enough to ask first."

"But you will keep me safe, yes?" she asked. Bromm nodded, holding her tighter.

"Stay close to me, and I'll keep you safe, girl."

Looking toward the Nest, he saw Sahat emerge with Pyet and the young sailhand Kainan in tow. They crossed the street, dodging thrown debris from the brawl upstairs, and gathered in the alley. Pyet cast an approving look over Ilune, who smiled shyly back at him.

"This is the girl you won from Zyrdun?" he asked. Bromm glowered at him, heated with sudden jealousy.

"From the murderer, yes," he replied.

"Aye, sad business that. What's the plan?" Pyet asked with an easy shrug. He wore a pistol and a thick saber on his belt, which he adjusted in expectation of violence. Kainan was a nervous lad, not Bromm's first choice for this sort of thing, but the one he had. The young man was slender, tanned and fair-haired, and wore a pitted and dented broadsword at his hip, but his pistol holster was empty.

"He's at the Foundry, so we'll post up in the street and wait. He should come out the front, he isn't expecting anything. But I want to see his eyes when I kill him, so don't shoot him from an alley."

"Sounds like a good way to lose the element of surprise and get yourself killed," Sahat grumbled. Bromm shrugged.

"I think I can handle him. But if anything happens, make sure Ilune is safe. And then get her some clothes."

"Do I get to be captain if you die?" Pyet asked cheerfully and Bromm shrugged again.

"Sure, why not? Just don't wreck the ship, I'm somewhat fond of it now."

"Why does he get to be captain?" Sahat asked. "I'm the most experienced sailor of all of us. Besides, you promised me a ship someday."

"Well, once I'm dead, you two can fight it out. But before then, we've got a visling to kill. Come on."

Bromm forged on through the alleys with his crewmen and slave girl in tow. The way to the Foundry was winding and tortuous, and soon they began to smell the soot from the ever-burning furnaces. The streets here were coated in black ash, which began to build up on their boots and Ilune's bare feet. Once Zyrdun is dead, I'll take her to the baths and wash off her pretty little feet. That will make a good place to fuck her again, he mused with a wry smile.

Ahead, they alley broadened onto a boulevard known as Westgate, after the gate where it terminated. They were not far from the jewelers' shop where he had first met Eanmasor so many days ago. That seems fitting, Bromm thought to himself as he posted up at the mouth of the alley and looked up and down Westgate. Enki has seen fit to bring me full circle on this affair. He checked his pistols and nodded grimly to the others.

"Pyet, you and Kainan head up the street so he can't get out that way. Sahat and I will wait here. If he runs, cut him down. But otherwise, leave him to me."

"We'll make sure Eanmasor rests easily, captain." Pyet and the anxious lad at his side moved off up Westgate. Bromm slipped himself into a recess in the alley to wait. The boulevard was busy even in the early afternoon, with carts bringing fresh iron ore and charcoal up from the wharf, merchants moving wares to West Market, and a work crew from the Temple of Askallon sweeping the streets.

Bromm waited impatiently with Ilune by his side in the growing afternoon heat. As he watched the people on the street, he grew to appreciate his shaded position even more.

At last, he saw a party of men emerge from the Foundry's front entrance. The bronze-skinned visling stood between five of his crew men, shaking hands with the owner as they bid each other goodbye. Zyrdun turned onto the street and began strolling leisurely in Bromm's direction.

"Here we go," Bromm hissed to Sahat. He anxiously checked his pistol again and drew his blade, but a hand caught his arm. Ilune looked up to him, concern in her green eyes.

"Be careful, master," she pleaded. Bromm smiled and kissed her cheek.

"Do not worry," he soothed. "I will be alright. Stay here."

The visling was nearing his alley, and Bromm turned from the naked slave girl to step boldly into the street with Sahat in tow. Zyrdun stopped suddenly perhaps ten paces from him, his lips curling into a sneer. The visling's small fangs were bared.

"Surprised to see me?" Bromm sneered. Zyrdun's men went for their blades, and behind them Bromm could see Pyet and Kainan approaching with their own weapons ready. The street crowds parted around the confrontation, but otherwise traffic flowed around them unperturbed. Street fights were a usual occurrence in Torvuls, especially these past few weeks.

"I suppose I am," Zyrdun sneered. His lips curled, baring the visling's small white fangs. His eyes darted past Bromm to the alley mouth, where Ilune ducked away out of sight. "You brought my former slave girl to taunt me?"

"I brought myself to taunt you," Bromm replied. "You failed in your dark errand."

"What are you talking about, boy? The girl is a pretty one, but this city abounds with beautiful girls I can have for a coin or three. I begrudge you nothing. The jewels were more of a loss, to speak the truth."

"You begrudge me much, for you tried to kill me," Bromm accused with a thrust of his saber. The visling's brow furrowed in confusion. "But, not knowing that I had lent my bed to Eanmasor, you snuck into the room in the dead of night and stabbed the wrong man!"

"I know nothing of this," Zyrdun replied. "I bear you little ill will, and none to Eanmasor. I have sailed with him, drank with him, shared women with him before, and we have gone our separate ways without bad blood."

"Yet you feel no regret?" Bromm challenged. This was not proceeding as he had expected it to. The visling showed more confusion at the accusation than at Bromm's survival.

"Regret for something I did not do? Eanmasor will be missed, though to tell the truth, he was past his prime. It was likely a matter of time before he was killed, whether on a raid or by one of his many enemies. He has become cranky and quarrelsome in his old age."