The Broken Blade Part 7

"Well, if Kieran offered you employment, you must have made a strong impression," Drom said, as another drink was set before him. "You could do far worse. I would accept the job if I were you.

You will be paid well, and you will learn much in the bargain."

"Thank you," Sorak said. "I appreciate the advice."

"When you see him, tell him Drom of Urik sends his regards. Most likely, he'll not remember me. I am not a memorable man."

"I will be sure to pa.s.s on your regards," said Sorak.

Drom nodded, suddenly looking depressed. "Thank you for the drinks, friend," he said. "And for the conversation. Sometimes, it is good to remember the old glory days." He belched. "And sometimes, not so good." He turned to Ryana and bowed, unsteadily. "My lady..."

Sorak watched him stagger off.

"He used to be a good man," said Tajik as he watched Drom weave away into the crowd. "But drink has got the better of him. He fought in over a dozen wars, and now he guards the construction of a bridge in a small village stuck out in the middle of nowhere. Think on that, my friend. The trade of mercenary can be rewarding for a young man with some skill, but do not remain in it too long."

The music stopped and the dwarf took the stage again, raising his arms for silence. "I know what you've all been waiting for!" he shouted. "The time has come! The Desert Damsel proudly presents... the lovely, the incomparable... Cricket!"

The crowd roared, and the drummers rattled off a fast tattoo, then stopped abruptly and started a slow and steady, gently rolling beat, accentuated by the bells and cymbals. The crowd fell silent as the beaded curtain at the back of the main stage parted, revealing the backlit silhouette of a tall, slender, beautifully proportioned woman in a sheer, transparent gown.

She moved sinuously in the backlight, swaying slowly to the beat, tantalizing the audience with the silhouette of her body showing through the gown, then she stepped into the light, and Sorak caught his breath. She was breathtakingly beautiful, a young half-elf girl with long, dark, silver-streaked hair almost to her waist; a heart-shaped face with slanted, dark eyes; delicately arched eyebrows; high, p.r.o.nounced cheekbones; full lips and a slightly pointed chin. Her body was slender yet curvaceous, with a slim and narrow waist and long, exquisite legs. The other dancers had all been greeted with raucous shouts and cheers when they came on, but Cricket's entrance brought utter silence as the men watched, mesmerized.

"That's the star attraction," Tajik said softly. the star attraction," Tajik said softly.

Unlike the other girls, who writhed provocatively and a.s.sumed seductive poses in time to the music, Cricket danced. danced. Her muscular control was impressive as she undulated her upper body in time to the music, her belly rippling like the surface of a gently flowing stream and her arms stretched over her head moving languidly, like the wings of a graceful bird. Slowly, the musicians picked up the tempo and she began to whirl, b.u.mping and twisting her hips in time to the beat, moving on tiptoe as she twirled and spun. She sank down slowly into a perfect split, her upper body swaying, bending over first to touch one leg and then the other. Then she twisted on the floor and crouched upon her knees, slowly bending backward until she touched the floor with the back of her head, her arms raised over her chest and intertwining like snakes coupling as her hips rose and fell rhythmically. It was beautiful, sensuous, and blatantly erotic. Her muscular control was impressive as she undulated her upper body in time to the music, her belly rippling like the surface of a gently flowing stream and her arms stretched over her head moving languidly, like the wings of a graceful bird. Slowly, the musicians picked up the tempo and she began to whirl, b.u.mping and twisting her hips in time to the beat, moving on tiptoe as she twirled and spun. She sank down slowly into a perfect split, her upper body swaying, bending over first to touch one leg and then the other. Then she twisted on the floor and crouched upon her knees, slowly bending backward until she touched the floor with the back of her head, her arms raised over her chest and intertwining like snakes coupling as her hips rose and fell rhythmically. It was beautiful, sensuous, and blatantly erotic.

"Worth the wait, eh?" Tajik said with a grin. Sorak glanced over at him and saw Ryana watching him curiously.

"I... uh... have never seen anyone dance like that," said Sorak.

"Nor have I," Ryana said in a neutral tone. "She's very beautiful, isn't she?"

"Yes," said Sorak, turning back toward the stage, "she is."

Cricket slowly raised herself up and got to her feet, and the gown fell away from her as if removed by unseen hands. Somehow, she managed to shrug free of it without ever appearing to remove it, allowing it to slowly slip down her body until it was bunched at her feet. Gracefully, she stepped out of it, now dressed only in the smallest of girdles and a halter consisting of thongs and two tiny pieces of lizardskin. She wore a thin silver chain around her waist and another around her left ankle, with a tiny silver bell hanging from it. Around her thigh, she wore a lizardskin garter with a small pouch sewn into it, only large enough for one coin at a time.

As the men crowded the stage, holding out their coins, she pirouetted toward each of them, stopping and undulating her stomach muscles as she put one leg forward, bent slightly at the knee, her bare foot arched gracefully with only the toes touching the floor, and the men would slip their coins into the garter pouch. A few of them tried to run their hands up her leg, or kiss it, but she twisted away adroitly, s.n.a.t.c.hing up the coins with her hand as she spun away, then turning back toward them and smiling with a slight shake of her head.

Sorak glanced at some of the other dancers. Some of the women were gazing at her with obvious envy or resentment. Others watched her with open and undisguised l.u.s.t. And those were just the women. She drove the men absolutely wild. Half a dozen were carried out as they tried to climb up on the stage, and the rest were shoving and elbowing each other, trying to get closer.

"She's pulling out all the stops tonight," said Tajik, shaking his head as he watched her dance. "If she doesn't watch out, she'll start a riot."

The music reached a crescendo, though it was barely audible in the roar, and with a graceful flourish, Cricket finished and curtsied low, bowing to the crowd. Coins rained upon the stage. The overworked bouncers moved in to restore order, pus.h.i.+ng the crowd back.

"A round of drinks for everyone, courtesy of the Desert Damsel!" the dwarf shouted, and he looked relived as everyone immediately surged toward the bar.

Cricket started picking up the coins. As she crouched by the lip of the stage, a hand snaked out and grabbed her by the wrist.

"How about a private dance, my lovely?" a powerfully built mercenary said.

"I do not perform private dances," Cricket replied. "Please, let go."

"Come on, now, I've already paid for the room."

"Then ask one of the other girls," said Cricket. "Now let me go."

"You're the one I want," the mercenary insisted. "Now get down here." And he yanked her right off the stage onto the floor.

At once, two bouncers moved in, but without letting go of Cricket's wrist, the mercenary kicked out at the first one, breaking his knee, and smashed the second one in the jaw. Both men went down, the first one screaming with pain, the second unconscious.

Sorak started to rise from his stool, but felt Tajik's hand on him. "Keep out of it," the ferry captain said. "Turin pays these men well for their pains, and they know their business."

Indeed, they seemed to, for even as Tajik spoke, Sorak saw three more bouncers move in, this time with three-foot agafari fighting sticks.

The brawny mercenary knew his business, too. He released Cricket, shoving her against the stage behind him and turned to meet the bouncers. As the first one came in with an overhanded blow of the fighting stick, the mercenary took it on crossed forearms, catching it on the muscle rather than bone, and then deftly wrenched the stick out of the bouncer's grasp while kicking him in the groin. Without pause, he pivoted, sidestepped a blow from the second bouncer, and cracked the stick against the side of his head.

As the second bouncer went down, the mercenary quickly dropped to the floor and swept the third bouncer's legs out from under him. He, too, fell, and the mercenary brought the heel of his booted foot down hard on the man's throat, collapsing his larynx and trachea. The bouncer made a horrible gargling sound and thrashed several times, then choked on his own blood.

Moving swiftly and smoothly, the big mercenary got back to his feet, s.n.a.t.c.hing up the third bouncer's fighting stick as well, so that he now had one in each hand. Cricket tried to crawl away, but he saw her and hooked a stool with his foot, sending it cras.h.i.+ng against the stage, just missing her. She cried out and stayed huddled where she was. Two more bouncers moved in, and by now the crowd had gathered round, watching and cheering the combatants.

The fighting sticks whirled in the mercenary's hands as he met the two remaining bouncers and, moments later, both were lying senseless and bleeding on the floor.

The crowed cheered, and the mercenary dropped the sticks and turned back to Cricket. He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet.

Sorak got up off his stool, shaking off Tajik's hand, and Ryana rose beside him.

"I'd say I've earned a lot more than just a private dance," the big mercenary said. And as he turned to drag her upstairs, he found Kieran blocking his way, standing there with his arms folded across his chest.

Sorak paused, holding out his arm in front of Ryana. The crowd fell silent.

"You're in my way," the big mercenary said to Kieran.

"Yes, I suppose I am," Kieran replied.

"Move."

"I don't believe I will."

"Well, well," the big mercenary said, derisively. "So you want to play the gallant, eh? You think the wh.o.r.e is worth it?"

"Oh, I'm not doing it for her," said Kieran, casually. "I'm doing it for you."

The big mercenary stared at him. "What?" "What?"

"It's for the benefit of your education. You require a lesson in manners. You seem pretty good with those sticks. You want to find out just how good you are?"

The big mercenary grinned unpleasantly and shoved Cricket back to the floor, then picked up the two fighting sticks he'd dropped. "You're the one who's going to get a lesson," he said with a sneer, as he twirled die fighting sticks in his hands.

Kieran bent to pick up one of the fighting sticks, but before he could grab a second one, the big mercenary moved quickly and kicked it away into the crowd.

"Kieran!" someone in the crowd shouted, and in the next instant, a fighting stick came sailing toward him.

Kieran s.n.a.t.c.hed it out of the air and glanced to see who had thrown it. He spotted the man and nodded his thanks, then smiled.

"It's been a few years," he said. "The war with Urik, wasn't it?"

Sorak saw Drom break out in a surprised grin.

Kieran looked down and experimentally hefted the sticks. "These really aren't balanced very well," he said, and in that moment, the big mercenary struck. Kieran raised his sticks, almost casually, without even seeming to look, and they moved in a rapid blur, with an accompanying rat-a-tat-tat rat-a-tat-tat of wood as he blocked the mercenary's blows. The big man retreated quickly, and Kieran looked up, as if with surprise. "Oh, have we started?" of wood as he blocked the mercenary's blows. The big man retreated quickly, and Kieran looked up, as if with surprise. "Oh, have we started?"

The big mercenary snarled and came back at him. The sticks moved so quickly it was almost impossible to make out the individual blows as both men struck and parried, crossing their arms in front of them as it they were batting away insects, and the clatter of the sticks against each other sounded like a rapid drum roll. Then they sprang apart as the crowd cheered in approval of the display.

"You're good, I'll give you that," the big mercenary said grudgingly.

Kieran shrugged. "I'm a little out of practice."

With a growl, the mercenary came at him again. There was a blur of sticks, a clattering tattoo of wood on wood, and then one of the mercenary's sticks flew from his grasp. The big man sprang back, shaking his hand with pain.

"You dropped something," Kieran said. He pointed with one of his sticks. "It's over there. Go on, pick it up. I'll wait."

The mercenary stared at him with loathing, then went to pick up the dropped stick.

Kieran shrugged his shoulders several times, rolling them as if working out some kinks. "Bit stiff, but I think I'm starting to warm up."

"You b.a.s.t.a.r.d," the mercenary said, and moved in again. The sticks whirled, clattered, moving with blinding speed, and then there was the sharp crack of a stick on bone and the mercenary cried out and staggered, bringing one of his hands, still clutching the stick, up to the side of his head.

"Sorry," Kieran said. "Clumsy of me."

Roaring, the mercenary charged him. Kieran sidestepped the rush, simultaneously sweeping the mercenary's legs out from under him and rapping quickly on his head as he fell.

"Watch out for that spilled ale," he said. "It makes the floor slippery."

Stunned, the mercenary slowly got back up to his feet, pure murder in his eyes. With a sudden motion, he hurled one of the sticks at Kieran, who raised both his sticks and, with a quick flourish, batted the missile away.

"You want to use just one?" he asked, then shrugged. "Suits me." And he tossed one of his sticks away.

The mercenary screamed with rage and charged once again, bringing his stick down in a vicious, sweeping blow. Kieran parried with a circular motion and hooked his stick under the charging mercenary's arm as he sidestepped and somehow the man was suddenly flipped and flying through the air. The crowd parted quickly as he landed on his back with a loud crash on a table, which broke under his weight. The crowd broke out in cheers and applause.

Kieran looked at the motionless figure of the mercenary for a moment, shrugged, and tossed his stick aside, then went over to Cricket and offered her a hand, helping her up. Turin came rus.h.i.+ng up to them.

"Magnificent!" he said, effusively. "Truly magnificent! I have never seen anything like it! Whatever you wish, it's on the house tonight! And I'm sure Cricket will be happy to give you a private dance in one of our comfortable rooms upstairs, won't you, Cricket?"

"No, I won't," she said, firmly. "I quit!"

Turin chuckled awkwardly. "There, there, now, you're upset, and I can certainly understand, under the circ.u.mstances, but this gentleman has just fought on your behalf and surely you wouldn't be so ungrateful as to refuse him?"

"The lady owes me nothing," Kieran said. "Sc.u.m like that give my profession a bad name. I acted on my own behalf."

"Well, it is very gallant of you to say that," Turin replied, "but I am certain once Cricket gets over her shock and has some time to think things over, she'll want to be properly appreciative."

"Do not misunderstand," Cricket said to Kieran, "I am am very grateful for what you did, and if there is some way I can repay you, I will try. But not... that way. I... I cannot." very grateful for what you did, and if there is some way I can repay you, I will try. But not... that way. I... I cannot."

"I understand," said Kieran. "I would never wish a woman to lie with me out of a sense of obligation. And, as I said, I did not do it for you. You owe me nothing."

"I owe you my thanks, at the very least," said Cricket, "but I am leaving this place tonight. The caravan is departing for Altaruk tomorrow and I am going with it."

"Then I will look forward to the pleasure of your company. We shall be traveling together."

"Now, Cricket, there is nothing to be served by making hasty decisions," Turin said. "You're upset now, and-"

"I had already booked pa.s.sage before this happened," Cricket interrupted him. "I am leaving, Turin, so don't try to stop me. I am already packed."

Turin's jaw dropped. "Is this how you repay me, after all I've done for you?"

"After all you you have done for have done for me?" me?" said Cricket angrily. "I have made you a great deal of money, Turin! I have earned every copper I have made in this place, and more, but at least I have done it without compromising my virtue!" said Cricket angrily. "I have made you a great deal of money, Turin! I have earned every copper I have made in this place, and more, but at least I have done it without compromising my virtue!"

"Your virtue?" virtue?" Turin said. "Oh, really! Isn't it a bit ludicrous for you to put on the airs of an affronted virgin?" Turin said. "Oh, really! Isn't it a bit ludicrous for you to put on the airs of an affronted virgin?"

"I am am a virgin!" she shouted at him. a virgin!" she shouted at him.

Everyone fell silent. Turin simply stared at her with shock.

"d.a.m.n you, Turin," she said softly as tears flowed down her cheeks.

"May I escort you home, my lady?" Kieran asked, offering her his arm.

"I... I have to get my things," she stammered.

"I will bring them to you," an elven bard said, stepping up beside her. He patted her on the shoulder. "Go on, now," he said, handing her his cloak. "It will be all right." He smiled. "You've certainly given them something to remember you by."

She smiled through her tears. "Thank you, Edric," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Please," she said to Kieran, "I want to go home now."

The crowd parted for them as they turned to leave.

Behind them, the big mercenary regained consciousness and sat up groggily. His gaze focused on Kieran, and he reached behind his neck, pulling a stiletto from a concealed sheath on his back, under his tunic. He drew his arm back...

"Kieran, look out!" Drom shouted. Drom shouted.

Kieran spun around just in time to see a ceramic bottle come flying through the air and shatter against the big mercenary's temple. The man grunted and collapsed, dropping the knife. Kieran looked quickly to see who had thrown it. His gaze fell on Sorak. Sorak simply nodded at him.

Kieran smiled. "That's two I owe you, Sorak," he said. "My thanks. I won't forget."

Edric turned to stare at Sorak intently.

"Well, I think I've had enough entertainment for one night," Ryana said.

Sorak offered her his arm. "In that case, my lady, will you allow me to escort you home?"

She took his arm and snuggled up against him. "Would you like a private dance, as well?"