The Lady and the Assassin
She sat on the docks, just beyond the bustle of the main shipping area. One of the men had glared at her earlier, and she could have sworn he had one of those menacing looks that dared a female to look again. She chose to get away from him and the rest of them, but was exhausted and sat as the sun set, looking out at the roll of waves.
It had been several days since she'd had a real meal. The ship she'd taken to Port Kar was laden with goods primarily and she'd used the last bit of money she had to get as far away as she could from her home in Schendi. Memories there, of death and heartache, tore at her when she pondered too deeply. The only upside of hunger was the fact that it properly distracted her, and she was more focused on food than on her past.
Port Kar was well known for the she-urts that lurked in shadows, she'd heard, and part of her thought as she'd departed Schendi, that she could survive there, and disappear into those same shadows. When she'd arrived though, two days past, her bravado sunk rapidly, and her heart raced every time a ship Captain or any other for that matter stopped to stare. She couldn't follow through with her original idea. She just couldn't.
There were some who'd called her beautiful when she was safely tucked away in her home. Her father and brothers had kept her and several sisters out of harm's way and far from the lurid glances of those who might otherwise take untoward advances towards women so pretty as they. She had a bright cowl of reddish hair that curled naturally about her face and even with a heavy set of veils and hood; she could not completely hide its vibrant tint.
Now she wished regularly that it was any shade other than the brilliant red. As she stared at herself in the tide that swished just under the pier, she saw a different woman staring back. Veils were layered with traveling dust, and her robes were tattered as well, and not clean either. It was a dismal face that looked back and for once, she was thoughtful, considering that the more haggard she got, the chances of her safety might increase.
For a moment, she tensed, and turned. Dusk with its mysterious glow settled shadows about her and in the last of the natural light, she could clearly see two of the canal urts, beady black eyes staring to her, through her even. For a moment, she wondered if urts were as obnoxious as the stories she'd heard. She hoped not, as she had nothing with which to defend herself. With another glance she saw that they each had portions of sa-tarna clutched in their paws, and were noisily eating.
In her thoughts, she murmured, "Even the urts seem to eat better than I have. I have to do something." With that, she pushed herself up, dizzy for an ihn, then steadied her stance and paused to consider her options. The idea of serving as a sex toy on the wharf just didn't have the appeal it had had when she was home in Schendi. There was nothing in her that could be coaxed to be a she-urt. Nothing.
Along one side of the docks, the road into the city was populated, first with brothels and paga taverns, and further into the city, more decent businesses were found, tanners and weavers, and the other Castes that could make goods to sell to merchants that passed through Port Kar. It was a city known for its bad reputation, and as she looked down the street, dimming quickly with nightfall, she trembled and realized how few options she truly had.
Finally, with a deep breath, she proceeded down that street. It looked more ominous as shadows filled what had only just been easily visible. The buildings looked in varying stages of decay, and in truth, worse than she felt. As she stumbled along, feeling the effects of hunger, she realized she was going to have to do something dramatic, and soon, simply to survive.
One of the taverns on her left looked a bit brighter than the others, and she opened the door. Hesitating in the open doorway, she paused and studied the faces of those who sat at different tables, and looked to the wenches who were rushing back and forth to please the men. The whole group seemed to stop mid-flow when she stood there long enough. It was almost like they were seeing an apparition, not someone real, and she pinched herself to assure that she wasn't dreaming.
Again, she inhaled a deep breath and stepped into the room. There were very few free spaces in the Tavern, no free tables, and only a rare few empty chairs. She studied the choices, looking from man to man, and measuring risk of joining one or another. At least in here, she could smell the rich flavors of paga and bread.
Approaching one of the tables for two, she'd chosen a space where the man who sat opposite the empty chair was slumped down, seemingly sleeping, and possibly safe for her to settle there. He wouldn't know the difference and she would be able to relax for a little while. She walked across the room with her chin high, her robes swishing, looking far more regal in bearing than looks.
As she moved to sit, she heard a collective gasp behind her. Almost every set of eyes again turned to the woman, the only woman in the Tavern who wore clothing, veils, robes, and so forth, and watched, staring boldly at her. Just as her backside hit the seat, an arm across the table grasped her wrist, firmly, and held her so she could not move.
"I would think, little laydee..." his voice resonated clearly from the robe of deep color that came up to just below his nose, a patronizing sound as he stretched out the word lady, a voice that startled her as much as the grabbing of her arm.
She looked at him closely, more closely than when she'd been in the doorway pondering locations for settling, and realized the man had all black on, from head to toe. In the odd light of the Tavern, and night fall, she'd seen everyone in varying dark shades, unable to differentiate navy from deep green, and now across from her was one of the Black.
"I would think..." he started again, still grasping her fiercely enough that he had her full attention but was not actually causing pain, "that you're either the boldest lady I ever met, or the dumbest. Hmmm? Which is it?" His voice showered more insult than his actual question, and she paused. The Tavern was silent as a tomb.
She stared back at him, deciding the only way she could escape this situation alive was to be as bold as possible. "Why I don't believe I've ever been called stupid..." and attempted to sound as haughty as a free woman of her class and station permitted.
There were a few titters of laughter heard far from where they sat in the room. A bull of a man came out to the bar, shouting loudly enough to be heard all the way down at the docks, "Slaves! Busy, now!" And retreated back to an office perhaps, or to his bed. She couldn't tell. The crowd returned to their conversations, but most only in pretense. All eyes still watched her.
His voice lowered, and he leaned across the table, looking into the eyes of the female in his grasp. Green eyes flecked with fear and passion burned back at him. The veils she wore were a full set of traveling veils and though they were soiled, they covered all but her eyes and most of her hair as well. He lifted a second hand and traced the upper ridge of her right cheek with his finger.
His touch brought a tingle that coursed through her veins like wildfire. "I could remove... these," he stated in whisper, "One at a time, or all at once. What... do... you... think?" She stammered.
He stared at her, waiting. It seemed he really wished for her to answer his blatantly rude question. She knew if he began removing her veils, the room would do nothing to prevent it. Family and friends were so far away, and now she felt further away from home than ever. He continued to watch, keeping eyes black and fierce, brazenly staring into hers. She stammered once more.
"A wager, if you will, Killer." Shaking with her obvious fear, the first time she spoke, he couldn't understand her. "Eh?" an eyebrow raised on his expressive face. Features twisted and contorted and added to her fear level. "A wager, Killer?" she offered once more. He was intrigued.
"If I can make you smile, you buy me dinner and let me walk out of here safely. Promise your protection, and keep an eye out for me while I am a guest in Port Kar. If I cannot do so within a half ahn, then I will answer your question of veils. Do we have a wager?"
The Killer released the grasp he'd had on her wrist. A ring of red welts showed where pressure had held her so tightly that for a while, her skin was marked by him. It pleased him to see it, but he commented not on that. Instead, he met her wager, as most Goreans would, with acceptance. He spoke again, loud enough to be heard by the crowd, repeating the wager.
Now she had bought time, but she was not sure how she could possibly do as she had wagered. She was safe for half an ahn, but then what? Trembling, she rested back, not quite jerking away as he released his grasp, but out of his immediate reach for the moment. Her eyes closed as she thought on the challenge.
Time moved at a slow pace, and rapidly at the same time. She could see the girls around her, moving to the men, refilling paga bowls, setting out bosk stew, and bringing out various dishes and drinks she didn't recognize. Tantalized by the aromas around her, she could have licked her lips, but thought better of it. She didn't want to give any wrong signals, to any of them. Then her belly grumbled. It was loud enough to embarrass.
Though neither of them had a water clock, they each knew time was passing and running out for her. The Assassin stared blankly at her, simply watching, enjoying the play of emotions that flitted across her expressive features. She frowned and her brow furrowed. He noticed the way she sighed through nearly closed lips. He studied her as he might study prey.
Again, she felt the stir of hunger pains. Suddenly, she recalled early days of play with her brothers. She knew that he would not see her lap her tongue against her lips exactly, below her veils. An idea took shape, however. Slowly, she dared to remove her own veils. There was only one thin bit of cloth remaining.
He arched both brows, and then drummed his fingers on the table. Perhaps she was simply going to take the fun out of the face stripping process. That was okay by him. He'd remove her robes in a few ihn and all would be done. In a few days, he'd get a few coins from a Slaver for the "laydee" and life would continue as normal as it could be for a Killer.
The last veil fluttered to the old wooden table top. The female's features were fully visible to all present. Every person in the room gasped again. The lady was lovely, breathtaking even. The Assassin was even stunned. In the ragged shape she was in, he had not expected anything nearly as beautiful as she.
The woman leaned in close, this time closing the distance between man and woman. She kept her gaze focused, fierce, and feisty. He saw her moving in, and did the same, leaning in to a place where their noses were only a few breaths away from one another. Coils of red hair fell around the females face as she poked her tongue out, sticking it out as a child might, taunting him.
Cheeks flushed with brilliant patches of pink as she did so. She remembered again those moments with her brothers, and how she'd resort to such childish antics when she was out of taunting remarks. They would all break into gales of laughter, and settle eventually. Everyone in her family had considered her the feistiest.
Laughter erupted from the serious man's lips. He couldn't contain it any longer. This bold chit of a woman had actually dared to poke her tongue out at him? He couldn't recall a time when anyone had been unfearful of him. It had been so long. And now, here in this crowd, with so many eyes watching, she removes her veils, and does this? Laughter and more laughter filled the room.
"Bring black bread, some of that stew, and a cold glass of juice for the lady!" he bellowed. This time he did not mock the word lady at all. At his table, she was still settled, and visibly relaxed. He'd actually laughed. She had no idea what to expect, but she was desperate. The laughter was richer than anything she'd ever heard. And now, she was going to eat.
Because of her wager, she knew she was safe, and could even sleep here tonight if she wished. Veils or no veils, with the protection of this Assassin, she knew she need not fear Port Kar again. Food came, and she ate ravenously. He smiled again, hunched over as he'd been originally, and she could almost swear she heard his snoring.
End
