A Poisoned Gift

"You deny your deed, then?" Bromm demanded. The visling gave him an exasperated shake of the head.

"I did nothing. After I left the Nymph last night, I went to an orgy at the palace of the merchant Halakar, where we discussed his plans for capturing monsters on the Wild Isle. This is his man here, come to outfit my ship for the journey."

A man stepped forward, his rapier clutched in one hand that bore a ring engraved with Halakar's signet. Bromm looked at it skeptically.

"A likely story," he replied slowly.

"Pardon, master," he heard Ilune call from the alley. "But he speaks truly."

Bromm turned half toward her as she emerged from the alley. She shuffled toward him, her arms around her chest and her eyes downcast as Zyrdun studied her with lust.

"Master Zyrdun discussed his plans to meet with the merchant in front of me. He... wished to exhibit me at the orgy and charge men a gold crown to fuck me."

"My lost slave does me a final service," Zyrdun laughed. "You do not easily forsake your master, girl. I like that about you. Bromm, I offer a gold crown to fuck her one last time in the alley. You can watch, if you like."

Bromm turned a glower toward the visling. "Thank you, Ilune, for your information." The girl bowed and hurried back to the alley. Zyrdun watched her go, his eyes lingering on her butt.

"So you believe me?" the visling asked with a smug smile. Bromm felt his anger rise and thought to just kill the arrogant bastard here and now.

"I suppose I do," he muttered. He lowered his sword point and looked past the visling to Pyet, then shook his head. "Be off with you, Zyrdun. We have nothing more to discuss."

"Very well," the visling said, puffing out his chest and thrusting his thumbs through his belt. He glowered down his nose at Bromm, but then his expression softened. "I will say a prayer at Kanaron's temple for Eanmasor. I would have wished him a few more years of drinking sweet wines and fucking pretty young girls before his time, but Enki does as Enki does. Goodbye, Bromm. And remember my offer. A gold crown!"

The visling squared his shoulders and marched away. Bromm watched with disappointment.

"You're letting him go?!" Pyet asked as he and Kainan jogged up. Bromm grimaced.

"I believe him. He didn't kill Eanmasor. Nor was he trying to kill me."

"So, who did?" Sahat asked. Bromm shook his head.

"I am not sure."

"Could it have been the smugglers?" Kainan asked suddenly. "Maybe they found out where our spice came from?"

"No," Sahat said firmly. "They are oblivious, that I know. I've had my ear on the city's scuttlebutt since we put into port, and the White Wind are none the wiser as to who did in their ship. But that might change if certain boys keep running their fucking mouths, Kainan."

"Apologies, certain," the boy replied. "I was only looking out for the captain."

"I appreciate it, Kainan," Bromm said, thought he was half lost in thought. Zyrdun had said Eanmasor had many enemies. "Perhaps they were not here for me after all. Eanmasor was a jovial man most of the time, but he had a temper, he was slow to pay his debts, and was a known cheat. Last night he mentioned he had to settle a debt with the guild. Perhaps the guild settled the debt first."

"The Spicers' Guild?" asked Pyet. "If he had crossed them, they would have sent a bloodier warning."

"No, he mentioned the name Haben. I know a Haben at the Thieves' Guild. He is a fence, exactly the kind of man someone like Eanmasor would come to know."

"Let's see about this Haben then," suggested Sahat.

"Not yet," Bromm countered.

"You want to get the girl some clothes first?" Pyet prompted, but Bromm took one look at Ilune smiling at him in the nude and shook his head.

"Not that. Zyrdun's men back at the Mariner. Sahat, go release them before they swear a blood oath against us. We might avoid a feud that crew just yet."

Sahat sighed. "It would be easier to slit their throats and be done with it, but I will do as you say. Where should I meet you when I'm done?"

"Back at the Nymph. We'll pay a visit to Haben and meet you there. Kainan, go with Sahat. The men might be... annoyed at us. He could use the help."

"And you'll be alright with just the two of you and the girl?"

"Aye, we'll manage. See you soon."

Without waiting for the reply, Bromm set off toward Haben's shop. Outside the Foundry, they had seen the crowds at their lowest ebb of the day, but now, as the afternoon wore on, the streets grew increasingly crowded. Ilune's nudity drew many eyes now, as men grew hot from the afternoon sun and retired to rooftops and storefronts to peoplewatch from the shade. Hundreds of pairs of eyes studied her as they passed by and Bromm felt his jealousy rising again. Yet at the same time, he felt proud. He had something everyone wanted, and only he could decide who could have her. He thought to pimp her, but no gold could overcome his own selfish desire to have her all to himself.

The afternoon heat dampened the lusts of the crowd, but Bromm still heard a few catcalls as they passed by a winesink near the House of Silk. He thought to call back at the man, to advise him to go into the brothel and have a woman instead of calling to someone else's woman in the street, but he decided against picking a fight in the street. Instead, he took the catcalls as a compliment to Ilune's beauty. Looking over to her his shoulder, he saw her smiling to herself. Bromm could not suppress his own smile.

Haben's shop was set in the courtyard of a towering apartment building built in the style of an Auric insula. To reach it, Bromm and his companions had to pass through a low archway facing the street crowded on either side by other storefronts. In the courtyard, Bromm looked around and spied a trio of sentries posted casually at the windows. At the elbow of one sentry was the muzzle of an arquebus, and Bromm began to reconsider picking a fight with Haben here. He was familiar enough to the sentry that a familiar eye passed over Bromm without reaction.

But when Ilune appeared, the sentry's eyebrows rose. He leaned forward in the window and whistled down at her. Ilune blushed, and Bromm frowned.

"Bromm, my old friend!" called a voice from the back of the courtyard and from the shaded awning emerged Haben. The fence was a rotund, jovial man with long brown hair flowing down his back. He brushed aside a servant as he stepped out into the sunny center of the yard. "What brings you to me today? Have you been sharing in this recent run of good fortune?"

"I have and have not," Bromm answered cautiously. Haben's eyes went past him to Ilune and the fence's smile broadened.

"Who is this lovely creature? Have you pulled a nereid from the sea to walk among us in all her naked glory?"

"No. This is Ilune. I won her at cards."

"An interesting way to come into a concubine, but not unique," Haben mused. "What brings you to me? Perhaps you are looking for some jewelry to hang about her neck? I can help you with that."

"No, Haben. Can we sit?" Bromm indicated a bench and the fence obliged. Bromm seated himself across from Haben, hands on his knees. He studied him for a long moment, and the man seemed to grow uneasy.

"What's this all about, Bromm?"

"Eanmasor, captain of the Wanderer. You know him?"

"I do," Haben answered. "What about him?"

"He was stabbed to death last night. In my bed."

"I didn't know you were the type, what with this and all," he waved to Ilune. Bromm scowled in annoyance.

"I wasn't fucking him, Haben. I was upstairs in a nicer suite, with her. Eanmasor had too much to drink and I lent him my old room to sleep it off. I thought he was killed by someone who mistook him for me, but now I think that he might have been the intended target after all."

"A shame, he was a reliable source of goods," Haben replied with a fatalistic shrug. "Such is the life we lead, right?"

"He said he owed you money," Bromm accused mildly. Haben laughed.

"So that is why you're here!" He chuckled to himself and shook his head. "I didn't kill him, my friend. And I'm a little insulted that you would think I would. If he's dead, he can't pay me back, can he?"

"He mentioned being late on his payments. I thought you might have given up on him and decided to send a message to other debtors."

"There's no need." Haben snapped his fingers and the servant he had brushed aside produced a heavy ledger from Haben's shop and carried it to him. "His first mate Kynas came by late last night and settled the debt. It was a good thing, too. I was a few days away from sending this minotaur I know to break his fingers."

The servant laid the book out on the bench next to Bromm and pointed to an entry in the ledger that confirmed Haben's story. Eanmasor, 9 ^th Day of Plenty, debt settled. Bromm frowned in disappointment.

"My apologies, Haben, I..."

"It's a cruel world out there, Bromm. I hate to say it, but it's not the first time I've been accused of murdering an associate. I'm not so old, so I expect it won't be the last, either."

"Well, now I admit that I'm at a loss for who else might have done it," Bromm sighed. Haben raised an eyebrow at him.

"As it so happens, last time I spoke to him, he was dodging the hired help of a madame from the Lotus. Daraine, I believe? He had offended her on some matter, and she was out to get her revenge."

"A madame?" Bromm wondered aloud. Offending a madame did seem like something in Eanmasor's repertoire. They had encountered some resistance at the House of Silk, where the madame had demanded they pay in gold coins, then scrutinized every coin herself. Apparently Eanmasor's reputation as a cheat did not stop at cards.

"A madame indeed. I don't not investigate the issue further, but Eanmasor seemed to take his precautions seriously."

"He was not hiding when I met him," Bromm said aloud. He rubbed his chin in thought. "It seems as good a place as any to look next." He stood up. "Thank you for your aid, Haben. And again, I'm sorry about accusing you."

"As mildly as you did, it was an accusation," Haben agreed. He stood up as well, and extended a hand to Bromm. "Bring me something nice to sell and we'll call it even. And watch yourself out there. I'd hate to lose another source of rare objects."

"I'll be careful," Bromm promised, though they both knew it was a lie. He turned back to Ilune and Pyet and shrugged. "To the Lotus next."

"I like the sound of that," Pyet said with a smile. They exited the courtyard and made toward Palace Hill, where the Black Lotus rose about the great market.

Nestled amid verdant gardens, the Lotus was the city's most famous attraction and perhaps the most famous brothel in all the world. Wealthy patricians sometimes came from as far away as the Imperial City to engage in debauched revels in the Lotus' halls. The slave markets of the city kept the Lotus stocked with the most beautiful women, and when pirates put into port with money to spend, they swarmed the Lotus in droves.

They wound their way up a stair carved into the side of Palace Hill to reach the west side of the Black Lotus, next to the Captain's House, a famous tavern where Bromm and Eanmasor had played dice the night before and lost a small fortune. The magnificent pleasure palace's front faced the storied Dolphin's Square, which was presently thronged with sailors well into their drinks.

As they passed through the square, Bromm caught a whiff of a street vendor's stall and realized he was hungry again. They stopped for dumplings from a food cart where the cook eyed Ilune so much he spilled boiling water on him and yelped. Bromm tried to hide his smile as he took his dumplings from the scalded cook. Ilune took her own and blushed as they ate.

They ate leaning against the Lotus' outer fence. Ilune drew stares and catcalls from passersby, but Bromm's attention was drawn to her feet, still sooty from their walk through the Foundry's neighborhood. The Black Lotus would be able to attend to that. He stuffed his last dumpling into his mouth and stood up.

"Come," he said around a mouthful of dough, vegetables, and pork. He extended a hand to Ilune and pulled her alongside him toward the Lotus' entrance. A raucous band of sailors emerged headed in the other direction. Red cheeks and bloodshot eyes foretold of the reek of alcohol that accompanied them, and they as one fixed their eyes on Ilune.

"Hey, girl!" they cheered, rushing toward her, "Hey, naked girl, looking for a good time?"

Bromm shoved the lead man backwards and he drunkenly fell into his companions.

"Who are you?!" the man slurred as he rose to his feet again.

"Her master," Bromm replied with a hand on his saber. "Now get out of here."

"Just looking to give the girl a bit of fun," one of the other men muttered, but the drunken louts dispersed without further trouble. Bromm turned to Ilune and saw her cheeks were flushed.

"I need to get you some clothes," he sighed. "We'll stop by a tailor's after this."

She nodded meekly and followed him into the Black Lotus. They were halted at the entrance by a pair of towering orcs who relieved them of their weapons before admitting the trio to the Lotus' common room. A great chandelier of brass and crystal hung from the ceiling, itself painted with a majestic scene of an orgy featuring the gods and heroes of legend. Bromm had been inside this storied pleasure palace many times, yet always stopped to stare at this scene, especially the central depiction of Nystra, Goddess of Pleasure.

The Lady of Tits and Wine was being fucked by four storied heroes at once, two cocks in her mouth and one in each of her other holes while a fifth man held her long golden hair up from her naked back and stroked his own cock in anticipation of fucking her himself. All around them, Nystra's nymphs danced and fucked men, satyrs, and dwarves in a garden of pleasure.

The walls were similarly painted with frescoes of nude men and women dancing, drinking, bathing, fucking, and relaxing with each other. In many places, these frescoes were marred with the handprints of the Lotus' patrons and staff who had been fucked against these walls. The floor of the common room was taken up by many heavy oaken tables now crowded with patrons and whores alike. Three beautiful redheaded girls danced naked on a table at the center of the room, their bare feet showed in coins from a raucous, drunken crowd. Topless, nude, or scantily clad waitresses moved between the tables, dodging groping hands as they delivered drinks to the thirsty masses.

Bromm looked past the rowdy circus toward a door on the far side that led out of the common room and to the madames' offices where they showed girls to clients. With Ilune pressed between them, Bromm and Pyet made their way across the packed common room toward the door. Drunken men reached out to grab her and had their hands slapped away, men dancing on the tables or the floor narrowly missed them with flailing limbs, and a hurled mug of beer broke open nearby and soaked Bromm's shirt.

But at last they reached the door and fell through it in relief. They were in a narrow hallway that led to small offices where the Lotus' clerks worked. To one side, they could see through an open door was to a small sitting room. Dark red couches lined the walls, facing a thick carpet. Bromm knew this room well, for this was where he often sat while a madame paraded naked beauties before him for his selection.

From one of the offices emerged a clerk, a mousy young man in a gray shirt and black pants.

"Sir?" he inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"I would like to see Daraine," Bromm said. "It is about a debt that a friend of mine owes."

"Very well, sir. Take a seat in this office and I will find her. It is a busy time for the madams, so please be patient." He looked at Ilune's feet and the faint sooty footprint behind her on the hall's floor. "And I will have a slave bring some water."

They sat in silence for a time, Ilune in Bromm's lap and Pyet idling playing with his empty scabbard. Through the closed door, they could hear the tumult of the common room. Men were singing, shouting, and banging on the tables. Bromm heard something thud against the walls, whether a fist, body, or thrown drink he did not know. After a time, a slave arrived with a bowl of water and washed Ilune's feet. The girl smiled fondly down at her pink feet as the black soot was washed away, and Bromm embraced her in his lap with a kiss.

The madame appeared at the door. She was a middle-aged woman, once beautiful but now aged by great weight she had gained around her waist. She was dressed in a gown of rich blue trimmed with gold lace, and her graying hair hidden by a lace headdress. Her fat waist shook as she padded into the room on velvet slippers and sat herself down opposite Bromm.

"I am Daraine. You are here about a debt, sir?" she asked coolly. Her eyes roamed over Bromm and Pyet, then over Ilune and she raised a curious eyebrow. The slave bowed to the her and then retreated from the room without a word.

"I am," Bromm replied as the slave disappeared. "For my friend Eanmasor."

Daraine's mouth twisted in annoyance. "You have come to settle the debt?"

"I would inquire about it. How much di- does he owe?" Bromm had nearly used the past tense of the word and given himself away, he realized.

"Twelve crowns, and a penalty for paying late. And running out."

"Twelve crowns? What did he buy here?"

"A shirt and shoes," the madame answered acidly. "This is a brothel, what do you think he bought?"

Bromm rolled his eyes, thinking of the vast array of pleasures that the Lotus offered, from whores to wine to theater shows. Eanmasor must have done something to really anger this woman.

"What costs twelve crowns here?" Bromm asked, trying not to return the woman's venom. She seemed to perk up, expecting to make a sale.

"More than when he was here. With all the money flowing around this city, the Lotus has been asking for more than it used to. But your friend Eanmasor bought a night in our most lavish suite with our most exotic beauty. He drank fine wines from the queen's own vineyards and spiced meats imported from Sostrum. And yet when it came time to pay, he offered only clipped coins. He insisted that he had been cheated, of course, but that is not my problem. And when I sent my orcs to chastise him, he fled out the window and left me with nothing."

"Clipped coins are still coins," Bromm pointed out, but the madame scoffed.

"He cheated me. Have you come to settle his debt, or just to mock me?"

"I have come to inquire," Bromm said again. "What is the penalty if he does not pay?"

The madame's eyes narrowed and her face darkened. "You think to help him get away with it? I have more guards than those two at the door. They will find him eventually. He's a wily one, Ill grant you. He might spend much time at sea, but eventually he will put into port again and I will get my money. And no sailor can stay away from Torvuls forever."

"Unless they're dead," Bromm suggested. She tilted her head slightly to one side.

"I thought you were a friend," she said slowly.

"I am. Or was. Eanmasor was murdered last night, in a room I lent him. I thought the killer had come for me, but now I think that he was indeed the actual target."

"Dead," Daraine mused, settled back in her chair. "Damn it all, he did get away with it."

"So it was not you who killed him," Bromm muttered with disappointment.

"Indeed no," Daraine sighed.

"Well, now I'm all out of ideas," Bromm grumbled.

"Perhaps I can offer you a salve for your disappointment, then. You would like to know what cost him the twelve crowns?"

"What do you suggest?"

"I suggest that you take the whore he bedded up to the room he fucked in and drink the wine he drank. After paying up front, of course."