“You,” she said, baring her teeth. “Are going to give my brother and me everything we ask for from this point forward. Money, mercenaries, ships… whatever we need. If you serve us well, you might be lucky enough to keep this city into our rule. Do we have an understanding, Lord Governor?”
Abastrius stared at her, mouth agape, eyes blinking. Kastet stabbed him lightly in the hand with his own dagger, drawing a high-pitched yelp. She could be rather scary when she was in the right, or wrong, mood.
“I asked you if you understood me!” she snapped. “Say yes.”
“I do,” muttered the Lord Governor. “I mean, yes! Of course.”
“Lord Damon?” Kastet extended her arm. With the merest brush of his will, Damon let the ice dissolve from his body and sword and let her set her hand on his elbow. They headed for the stairs, and nobody was foolish enough to get in their way.
***
“You need to start thinking more,” Damon told Kastet as they arrived back at their lodgings. “I’m not always going to be able to save you by the skin of my sword. Do you even realize how close that was?”
He expected a haughty response and was both surprised and pleased when Kastet paused to consider what he’d said. She nodded once, sighed, and closed her eyes.
“I know,” she said. “I was terrified up there. It wasn’t until we were actually within the Redpane Tower that I realized what I suppose should have been obvious. There are so many different facets to this, so many considerations to make. It’s overwhelming.”
Lilian went to Kastet’s side and set a hand on her shoulder. Damon lay on one of the cushioned benches with Vel at his side, and she shifted to put her legs into his lap. Wrath was still absent, though given how quickly she could come and go, it made little difference to the situation.
“With that said…” Damon raised an upturned hand and smiled. “We got what we came for. We basically won this city without spilling any blood.”
“It’s not that simple,” said Kastet. “The Lord Governor will no doubt deliver on some of what we’ve demanded. A ship, some money, a few guards, perhaps. There’s no chance that he’d stand with us outright against Avarice without a full commitment from my brother and Hearthold, even if it came with the promise of aid from the Forsaken.”
Damon had taken notice of how she’d avoided mentioning Wrath and Famine while dealing with the Lord Governor. It was smart. It gave her cards to play down the line and kept from revealing more of their plan than was strictly necessary.
“We need to find a way to reach your brother,” said Damon. “This would all be so much simpler if Vel could reach him with her dreamspelling.”
“Hey!” said Vel defensively. “It’s not as though I haven’t tried. I just don’t have the strength for it.”
“I’m not blaming you, I’m just saying…”
“I know what you’re saying, Damon.”
“There might be another way.” Kastet leaned back in her chair as Lilian began massaging her shoulders. “If we knew the exact details of Gabriel’s arrival, or even just the name and itinerary of his ship, we would have a chance at getting a message to him before he entered Avaricia.”
“It’s possible someone within the city might know,” said Damon.
“It would have to be someone within Avarice’s inner circle, no doubt,” said Lilian.
Kastet sighed. “I do still have friends in Avaricia, but none who would have purview to that sort of information.”
“I know someone whom Avarice trusts,” said Damon. “But it’s an open question whether he’ll help us.”
They spent the evening lounging, in some ways recovering, from their recent travels and the tense encounter with the Lord Governor. A courier arrived with several bottles of fine wine as a gift, and Damon sampled enough of each to render himself comfortably drunk.
He missed his aesta. Now, more than ever, he wished he could speak with her, to get her advice on what he was doing, what he should be doing. Moreover, he just wanted to know she was alright.
Vel was sitting in his lap, and she seemed to sense his unease. She stroked his cheek, shifting his face so they were gazing into one another’s eyes.
“It’s all going to work out,” she whispered. “Just you wait and see. Ria’s alive. I’m awake. Aesta is… off doing aesta things.”
Damon forced out a laugh and nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”
He ran a hand along the side of one of her thighs, eyes darting toward the staircase. Vel flashed a conspiratorial smile.
“I think Lilian is feeding off Kastet,” she said. “They’ll be busy for the better part of the next hour.”
“Is that right?” He kissed her neck and started shifting her down onto the cushion. Vel giggled, and the two fell into a loving, heated embrace.
CHAPTER 22
Damon set out early the next morning. He was uneasy about leaving Vel, Kastet, and Lilian alone in the Lord Governor’s city, but conceded it was still likely safer for them than his mission into Avaricia would be, overall.
Vel made him promise to take the amethyst dreamspell amulet with him and wear it every night. He’d agreed, even though it’d stirred a small amount of unwanted conflict within him. Wearing the amulet to sleep felt as much for his aesta as for Vel, and hoping that Malon might reach out to him left him waking disappointed each morning.
Kastet went with him to the stable on the city’s grounded coast. She’d insisted he travel using one of Wrath’s corrupted horses, which he’d agreed to in passing without much thought. Staring at the monsterish steed now, with its oily dark eyes and sharp teeth, left him wondering if perhaps he might still hire a carriage and ride in comfort.
“This will be faster,” said Kastet. “Trust me.”
“I do.” He smiled faintly at those words. He certainly hadn’t always trusted Kastet, and he couldn’t remember the exact point in time when the balance had shifted toward taking her at her word. But he eventually had, over many months of encounters and experiences.
The stablemaster was just as wary of the corrupted horse as Damon was and opened the gate for him far ahead of the beast to give himself plenty of time to get out of the way. Damon was about to climb onto its back when Kastet set a hand on his arm, turning him toward her.
“Be careful.” She kissed him on the lips before turning away.
“I will,” he said.
As Damon soon learned, she hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d spoken of the animal’s speed. It was more noticeable the faster he went, with the corrupted horse seeming to thrive the harder he pushed it.
At a canter, his steed moved as fast as a normal horse at a gallop, and at a gallop, Damon was holding on for dear life. The corrupted horse didn’t tire out, either, and it really, really didn’t like to be steadied or slowed down.
He made the journey, four days by wagon or carriage, in two, stopping for only a single night to slither into his tiny tent and wrap himself in his quilt. He wasn’t entirely sure how to approach Avaricia as its walls drew into view at a distance, knowing how much attention he’d draw if he simply rode his distinctive, dark mount in through the front gates.
In the end, he stabled the horse in one of the outlying towns and walked the last mile or so. Keeping the hood of his cloak up, Damon entered Avaricia around early evening, with the sun dipping low on the horizon and winter’s chill encroaching against the fair-weather coast.
The city felt unchanged and oblivious, like a play in which the actors had been swapped out but the script was still the same. Market stalls hawked the last of their wares before packing their wagons for the day and heading home. Washerwomen hung clothes from lines, and courtesans hung halfway out of windows, calling men into brothels and offering to turn boys into men.
Damon knew Avaricia about as well as he’d known any place. He had a few ideas about where to find Austine, but it was a question of approach. He needed to find his old friend alone and in a mood to talk, preferably as far away from A
varice as possible.
In the end, it was the time of day that set his course. Damon headed for The Golden Corset, a tavern turned lightweight brothel with tease shows and scantily clad servers. It had been one of Austine’s favorite taverns, and it was the one at which he expected to find his friend now that his fortunes had come to roost.
He felt exposed pulling his hood down and taking a seat at one of the corner tables, but that was a facet of his plan. A woman in a thin, nearly transparent skirt and a half-shirt tight enough to look painted on leaned forward to take his order.
“Is there anything you need?” she asked in a breathy voice.
“Ale,” he said. “Just ale.”
“Just ale then, for now,” she purred.
Damon chuckled as he watched her walk away, mesmerizing by the intentionally perfect side-to-side swaying of her hips. It wasn’t as though he was immune to the sort of seduction sold in a place like The Golden Corset. He wasn’t better than the place, he was just busy.
Busy doing nothing, as it happened. He waited for three hours, drinking more than he probably should have and spending more time listening to the propositions of the scantily clad servers on each pass. He was on the verge of resigning himself to renting a room within the city, an outcome he’d been hoping to avoid, when a familiar face finally walked in.
Austine seemed to greet every single working woman within the establishment as he made his way to the bar. He didn’t notice Damon, not at first, but eventually his eyes passed over him and he doubled back, frowning intensely.
“Anders Rosewood,” said Austine, sounding cheery despite looking unsettled. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“It’s been too long, Austine,” he said. “I happened to be passing through Avaricia and thought I’d get a drink.”
“You just happened to come here for that drink. Right.”
Austine gestured to a set of curtains in the back of the common room. Damon stood up and followed through them, passing several stalls with women and men in various states of engagement.
They found a private room in the very back that smelled of heartlift weed and took seats at a table that Damon suspected was intended for a woman to give private dances, or more, upon. Austine let his irritation show as he drummed his fingers on the polished wood.
“I need a favor,” said Damon.
“Of course, you do,” said Austine. He let out a whistle. Damon furrowed his brow, thinking it had been a gesture meant for him until one of the scantily clad girls opened the door and poked her head in.
“We’re going to need some liquor,” said Austine. “Two bottles. Also, which of the gold stars are available tonight?”
“Elouise and Henna,” said the girl. “I’ll get right on those drinks!”
“Send them both,” said Austine.
“Hold on,” said Damon. “That’s not why I’m here. I’m—"
“Make that three bottles,” said Austine.
The liquor arrived with startling speed, and Damon had a glass in his hand before he could either mount a proper objection or get Austine talking. He took a sip of the drink, a sour liquor he couldn’t identify, and did his best to roll with the punches.
“Austine, look,” he said. “I need to discuss something with you. I knew you’d be coming by here, but this might not be the best place for us to talk.”
“Would you seriously begrudge me a single night of fun?” Austine slapped his hand down on the table. “Really, Damon? Come now! You’re already here. You clearly want something. If it’s that important, you can wait until after we’ve been entertained.”
Further protest was cut off by the arrival of a pair of intensely attractive women. One of them was blonde, hair pulled back into a tight bun by little wooden sticks with gemstones on the end. She wore a paper-thin nightgown that reminded Damon of the ones he’d bought for Malon, Vel, and Ria once upon a time, and she sat down on his lap before he could object.
“Hi,” she whispered. “I’m Henna.”
“Hello, Henna,” he said, attempting to push back and giving her half of a grope instead. “I’m actually just here to talk with my…”
“You can talk with me, can’t you?” she whispered.
Various kissing and sucking noises were coming from the direction of Austine and the other woman, so Damon made an effort not to look that way. Henna nuzzled her cheek against his and began wiggling her butt against his crotch. She pulled the straps of her gown down and pressed the tremendous swell of her pale, naked breasts into his face.
“True Divine,” he muttered. “What was I saying?”
He was quick about it, as much due to how aggressive the cute young courtesan was as because of the plague of his own judgmental thoughts. What would his aesta think? How about Vel and Ria? Damon simply had to accept the simple fact that Austine wasn’t going to be inclined to help him if he didn’t indulge a bit.
And what an incredibly hard fact it was to accept. Henna rode his cock with such perfect movements that it felt as though he was watching a dancer in action, with each swaying motion, each rise and fall, setting the pace of his pleasure. He made use of the table at one point, pinning her down on her back to drive his full length into her until her moans of pleasure were too irregular to be anything but genuine.
CHAPTER 23
When things had finally settled down, Damon caught his breath and sipped his liquor. It was just him and Austine in the room again, both shirtless and sweaty. He felt gross, and seeing the way Austine kept smiling only made him feel grosser.
“Pretty nice, right?” asked Austine. “I’ve been thinking about buying this place, but deep down I know I’d feel different about all the girls if I was the one handling the coin.”
“You have that much money now?” asked Damon.
Austine nodded, flashing a slightly gleeful smile.
“What would your wives think?” asked Damon.
“I met one of them here,” said Austine. “I thought I mentioned that.”
Damon took one of the bottles and topped off both of their glasses. He steepled his fingers, considering how to present his question.
“King Gabriel is coming to Avaricia,” he finally said.
“So I’ve heard.”
“Austine. I need to know everything you know about where and when he’s arriving, and if he plans on residing within the city.”
Austine let out an unpromising sigh. “How far did you travel in hopes of getting an answer?”
“I was on the road for two days,” said Damon.
“That’s a fair amount of time wasted then. You already know everything I know on the subject of King Gabriel’s arrival. I consider myself fortunate to not be privy to that sort of information. If I could help you in such a way, Damon, I would have long since gotten myself killed.”
Surprisingly, Damon wasn’t as disappointed as he would have expected to be. It was only in that moment, sitting across from Austine after having spent the last hour ploughing expensive whores, that he realized why he’d actually come to see him.
“The next few days are going to be fairly impactful,” said Damon. “You might want to consider taking your wives out of the city, moving them somewhere a little safer.”
“You’re always so serious and dour.” Austine tilted his glass in a circle, stirring its contents. “Should I call Henna and Elouise back in? We could swap them around this time, or I could call up some fresh ones if you’d rather—"
Damon slammed his fist down on the table hard enough to spill one of their drinks. “Enough. This isn’t a game anymore, Aust. We’ve reached the point of no return.”
Austine leaned forward, eyes serious. “Was that a threat?”
“You know it wasn’t. Look… Just listen to me. Give your situation some thought. Is it really Avarice that you’re loyal to? Is it the money? Is it the power, the status?”
Austine started to reply, but Damon held up a finger, cutting him off.
“If you play your cards right
,” he continued, “you might still have much of that once all is said and done.”
“I hear what you’re saying, Damon. I do. But… It isn’t that simple.”
“Of course it’s not. It’s going to be complicated, and finicky, and probably come down to a singular choice in a heated moment. At the right moment. That’s all I’m saying.”
Austine took a deep breath and exhaled. “Avarice rules through fear. Now, more than ever. You should keep your eyes open on your way out of the city. The copper spiders he used to torch Yvvestrosai… He has them patrolling the streets on some nights.”
“Are you scared of him?” asked Damon.
“Terrified,” said Austine. “With that said, fear can be… a motivator in both directions.”
“Does that mean—"
“It means I heard what you said, Damon. Now, unless you’re interested in another courtesan at my expense, I think it’s past time for us to end this little gathering.”
Damon nodded, though in the moment, he almost wanted to take Austine up on the offer, just to spend some more time, however grimy, with his old friend. He patted Austine on the shoulder as he moved to grab and pull on his shirt.
“Take care of yourself,” he said.
Austine nodded. “You too.”
It was late when he made his way back onto the street. Austine’s mention of the copper spiders had him walking swiftly and tensing with every noise that resembled metal against cobblestone on his way out of the city.
It would have been convenient and comfortable to simply rent a room at an inn for the night, but he was wary of overstaying his welcome, especially after revealing his presence to Austine. He wasn’t so naïve as to think that there wasn’t at least a chance the Godking might force his friend to reveal their meeting.
He made it out of the city walls without being interfered with and jogged most of the way to the stable in the outskirts where he’d left his horse. The stablemaster grumbled as Damon woke him up and paid the fee.
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