The Bloody Frontier (Pistols and Pyramids Omnibus Book 1)

by Jim Johnson

  He stood up straight as he started the binding litany. He lifted the knife up toward the ceiling, and then, when his litany reached its crescendo, brought it down in a firm, sure stroke. He released the controls on the man’s voice, and as he took the man’s ear as his token, the man screamed out one last time, releasing all his hopes and fears in one last outburst of humanity.

  Zezago threw his head back and exulted in the sound and the fury, adding his own primal cry as chorus to the damned.

  CHAPTER 4

  AFTER HER LONG CRY, NUMBNESS SUNK in. Ruia sat on the bed, staring at the closed door, her mind whirling with thoughts of what to do next. It felt like there was so much to do, and yet, now that she was no longer in the village, it seemed she had nothing to do. No fish to clean, no crops to plant or sow, no sisters to chase after…

  A loud purring behind her distracted her. A massive black and white tomcat lay sprawled on her pillow, his front paws stretched out. He cracked open his eyes and flicked his tail, which was black shot through with white. The tip of his tail was pure white.

  Amused, Ruia turned around and offered her hand to the cat. "Pleased to meet you, divine cat."

  The cat pushed its nose toward her hand, sniffed it, and then closed his eyes and rubbed the side of her hand with his whiskers.

  She smiled, guessing that the cat had deemed her acceptable. She scratched the tomcat between his ears. "We had a few cats in the village. They kept our grain safe from roaming critters. How'd you get in here?"

  She glanced at the closed door and then at the open windows letting in a scant morning breeze. It was clear from looking out the window that she was on the second level of the senet house. She chucked the cat under the chin. "I guess you're the clever one."

  The cat adjusted his position and started to knead her pillow with long, alternating strokes of his front paws. He slitted his eyes and seemed to grin at her as he purred loud and long.

  "You're not a shy one, that's for sure." She padded over to the window and pulled open the curtain, letting in more sunlight. She sat back down on the bed and checked her injuries. The bruises and cuts she'd gathered over the last several days were all shallow wounds. She might end up with a little scar or two from some of the deeper cuts, but otherwise she'd heal.

  Ruia poured herself a cup of water, downed it, and filled the cup again. She stood up on bare feet, appreciating the fuzzy rug—the pelt of some animal she didn’t recognize—on the hardwood floor keeping her feet warm. She moved to the washbasin and used the washcloth and flower-scented water to wash her face and hands. The water was cold, and she scrubbed hard, trying to get at the deeply embedded blood and grime that had caked into her over the last several harrowing days.

  She moved over to the low bench under the window and pulled a folded linen dress out from underneath her pistol and holster. She noticed a pair of thin sandals tucked underneath the bench, their simple leather ties open and inviting. She picked up the sandals and the dress and moved over to the tall mirror standing near the closed door. She put the sandals on the chair and pulled the dress up against her body. She looked at herself in the mirror.

  The dress was just a bit too long, hanging down to her ankles, but would probably fit her well enough. She bunched it up into her hands and then stuck her head through the neck hole and pushed her hands and arms into the sleeves. The fabric fell around her body in a shimmer of the finest, lightest linen she had ever worn, and she marveled at the texture of it as it caressed her skin.

  Ruia adjusted it while looking at herself in the mirror, blushing at how it left none of her modest curves to the imagination. She was used to wearing more baggy hand-me-downs from her mother and aunt. No one in the village had ever owned a dress as fine as this one.

  She stared at the delicate embroidery on the sleeve cuffs with wide eyes. This was a dress Teteri had left for her, almost certainly a spare—probably not even the finest in the house. What kind of money did Teteri have to afford such finery to be used as hand-offs?

  She sat down on the padded stool in front of the vanity, playing her eyes over the various items set upon it. A bone-handled hair brush, a pair of silver and gilt scissors, a small cosmetics case containing kohl and red rouge and other items she couldn't identify. She looked at herself in the mirror and started. She looked cleaner than she felt. She frowned at that, not remembering having taken a bath. She sniffed herself under the dress and wrinkled her nose. She definitely stank like she hadn't had a bath in several days. Someone, possibly Teteri, must have cleaned the worst of the grime off her before putting her in those soft, clean sheets. She snorted and glanced at the cat. “Probably wise.”

  Ruia stared at herself in the mirror, noting that her sidelock of hair was a hopeless tangle of twigs, leaves, dirt, and dried blood. Maybe she could ask Teteri to draw her a bath and to help her get her sidelock in order.

  Her stomach lurched, and she pressed her hand to her stomach to try and quell the sounds. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten. Maybe she could beg some food from her benefactor as well. She stared at her reflection and bit her lip, hating the thought of having to beg for basics such as clothing and food.

  And what of her villagers? She stood up suddenly, worried all over again for them. She toed the sandals over and stepped into them, and reached down to tie off the simple straps. She tied the left one but had to fend off the cat's eager swats at the other sandal's strap before she managed to tie it as well.

  She scratched the cat between the ears again. "We should see about breakfast, shouldn't we?"

  The cat blinked at her slowly in response. Ruia stood and opened the door. The cat jogged out of the room, his tail flagging along behind him. He took a few steps into the hallway beyond and stopped and turned to look at her. He offered a low trill, as if asking if she was going to follow.

  She remembered her pistol. She wasn’t about to leave without it. She retrieved it from the bench under the window and strapped it around her chest. The heavy weight of the leather holster and cold steel comforted her in a way she hadn’t expected. She headed for the doorway, afraid to think too deeply on the gun’s presence.

  She closed the bedroom door behind her and started down the hallway, the black cat trotting along ahead of her.

  The elegant wooden hallway ended in a stairway curving around to the right and down. Three closed doors lined each side of the hallway. Her room was at the end of the hall, her door set into the center of the narrowest wall. The walls were paneled with gilt wood that shimmered in the morning sunlight pouring in through skylights set into the ceiling. She tried not to gawk at the skylights—none of the homes in her village had them. She appreciated how they filled the hallway with light.

  Several pieces of art hung from the walls and she glanced at the paintings as she followed the cat. She blushed when she realized what they were depicting. She was no stranger to the intimate acts men and women performed with each other; she was still a virgin, but she was good at not being seen or found. There had been more than one occasion in her village where she had played at hiding from the other children and had her hiding spot interrupted by an amorous couple. She had watched with wide eyes, her hands clamped over her mouth to keep from giggling or gasping, more than one pair of lovers amuse themselves in a variety of ways.

  The acts had made her feel…funny, and curious, though she hadn't yet had the opportunity to try any of them with anyone. It would be strange and wondrous.

  She dropped her gaze to the long red carpet set into the center of the hallway and hurried along, but paused when she heard sounds from behind a couple of the doors. Puzzled, she leaned in toward one of the doors. Quiet moans of pleasure reached her ears. Her mind's eye pictured two people performing some of the acts depicted in the paintings, and she blushed all over again, the heat traveling up and down her spine and neck and cheeks, and landing a warm glowing feeling somewhere below her stomach. She hurried to follow the black tomcat down the staircase, trailing her hand
along the polished and sanded wood railing.

  The downstairs level was a wonder to behold. Limestone and woodwork of varying shades were arrayed next to each other in pleasing shapes and patterns. A quartet of finely-detailed limestone columns stood in the center of the large room, creating the corners of a pool set into the tiled floor. Green and white lotus petals floated in the pool, and the smells of honeysuckle and lavender assaulted her senses as her sandaled feet hit the tile floor with a smack of leather.

  She didn't see anyone in this hall, and there were corridors and hallways and doors every which direction. The subtle smell of cooking meat and garlic hit her nose then, cutting through the more flowery scents. The cat headed toward one of the doorways and she followed. Her feet moved the rest of her body in that direction almost on their own will, perhaps guided by her stomach. As she passed the pool of water, she ran a hand over the cool limestone, tracing the decorative designs scribed into the surface.

  Whoever Teteri was, she was clearly a woman of means and substance.

  She followed the cat and the cooking smells through a small labyrinth of storage rooms, clothing rooms, and a food preparation area. The tomcat aimed toward a line of sunlight spilling through an open doorway and exited. She followed. The doorway opened onto the back of the senet house, where there was a pair of brick ovens full of glowing coals. One oven was lined with row upon row of bread loaves, some still baking and some ready to be consumed.

  The other oven was laden with an assortment of pots and pans, all of which spewed out delicious smells and aromas of cooking meat, vegetables, spices and herbs, and other things she had never seen or smelled before.

  Her nose noted what had to be a fish stew. Curious, she moved closer to the ovens. An older woman dressed in a simple, soiled kilt, backed out of a nearby storage hut and turned to the ovens. She started when she saw Ruia.

  "Well, hello there. I assume you must be the young lady Madame Teteri brought in last night."

  Ruia nodded. "I hope I'm not in your way." She indicated the cat. "He seemed to know the way, so I followed him."

  The old cook smiled and nudged her head, indicating that Ruia should move closer to the ovens. "Merow is a constant visitor to my kitchen. He earns his stay by keeping the storage rooms free of mice and snakes."

  Ruia glanced at the cat. "His name is Merow?"

  The cook snorted. "That's all we ever call him. He comes in here, says "Merow?" and then wanders around and rubs on our legs until we relent and give him a morsel of beef or fish." She gave the cat an affectionate look. "So we call him Merow, though I'm sure he knows his gods-given secret name, and isn't telling us."

  Merow bounced up on his hind paws so that he could nudge the cook's thigh with the top of his head, then glanced toward the steaming pans.

  The cook smirked at her. "See? He's incorrigible."

  Merow leaped up onto a side table near the ovens, and used his new vantage point to look into the cook's eyes with something more approaching even footing.

  Ruia chuckled. "He certainly seems to be everywhere."

  The cook laughed, short and sharp. "Indeed." She pulled a wooden spoon out of a small pouch she wore around her waist, and stirred the contents of one of the pans, then scooped around in it until she scored a small cube of meat.

  She picked it off the spoon and blew on it. She glanced at Ruia and then at Merow, whose eyes had grown about half again as large. "If only all our customers were so easy to please."

  The cook blew on the piece of meat again, then lowered it toward Merow's face. She let him sniff the meat, and he flicked his tongue out in expectation. She placed the cube on the brick shelf beyond the ovens, where several loaves of bread were cooling.

  Merow hopped down off the side table and sauntered over to the meat, and daintily took a corner of it in his mouth and moved to a quiet spot to eat. He hunkered down over it, and placed one paw on the meat to keep it from sliding around on the ground as he tore into it.

  Ruia smiled at the cook. "I hope I don't have to jump up onto that table to get some food."

  The cook grinned. "Of course not, dear." She indicated a stack of clay bowls and plates. "Help yourself to anything and take a loaf of bread. Everything is ready to eat, though some of the dishes will taste better tonight after they've had a proper chance to settle and blend."

  Ruia took a clay bowl and the smallest loaf of bread she could find, and broke it open and laid it in her bowl. She was tempted to try the beef and vegetable stew, given that Merow seemed to adore the beef, the way he tore into it. Being from a fishing village, she went for the fish stew. She ladled a few scoops of the stock and broth onto her bread. She found a small wooden fork and took a seat next to Merow on the cold bricks.

  She dug into the stew and bread with gusto, occasionally giving Merow a pet or the odd bit of fish or soggy bread out of her bowl.

  As she finished up, the cook handed her an earthen jug. "Here, drink this. It's just water, but it'll help you settle. I heard you had a hard time last night."

  Ruia accepted the jug, choosing to ignore the stare the cook shot at her pistol. She broke off the clay stopper and, not seeing a cup anywhere handy, lifted the jug to her lips and drank deeply.

  The water was cold and delicious, and served as a fine counter to the hot stew she'd just eaten. She drank several deep gulps and then placed the jug on the ground between her feet.

  The cook offered to take her bowl. "Need some more? You ate that like you haven't eaten in a month."

  Ruia smiled apologetically. "We've been on the road for days. I wasn't sure I'd eat a good meal again."

  The cook refilled her bowl, then returned it to her.

  Ruia took the bowl, but had to fend off Merow, who had finished his morsel and was very curious indeed to see what might have appeared in her bowl. She gently pushed his head away. "Patience, Merow. You'll get to clean the bowl after I've finished."

  Merow nudged her arm with his forehead, then hopped down off the bricks and circled her feet a few times before sitting down next to her. He started to industriously clean his face and front paws.

  Ruia ate the second bowl of stew more slowly than the first, taking the time to savor the different flavors. She ate another spoonful of the stew and nodded approvingly over it. "The fish stew is excellent, thank you. It's similar to what I had at home, but a lot more...variety in the seasonings. We can’t easily get many spices unless a trader comes through."

  "We're fortunate to be serviced by the military, so to speak. We get regular shipments from the southlands."

  Ruia nodded and ate just one more spoonful of stew. She licked her spoon clean and then placed the bowl, still with bits of stock and broth in it, on the ground for Merow.

  Merow hopped off the bricks and circled around the bowl a couple times before hunkering down in front of it. He dipped his face and tongue into the leavings.

  Ruia took another deep gulp from the water jug and sighed in pleasure as the cool liquid settled into her stomach. "Thank you for sharing your food with me."

  The cook waved off the thanks. "All the girls are given free food along with their free clothing."

  Ruia frowned. "What?"

  The cook busied herself with throwing some cut vegetables into another pot and then stirred a pan of simmering fish.

  "The girls. Madame Teteri sees fit to feed and clothe them without charge. I guess leasing a room and buying the other things you'll need are expensive enough that you shouldn't have to pay for food and clothes."

  She ran an evaluating look over Ruia’s body. "Though you still have some growth in you yet, don't you? You might want to invest in some smaller clothes until you're able to fill them out a bit more."

  Ruia's frown deepened. The words the cook was saying were disturbing and she couldn't quite make sense of what she was telling her.

  The cook continued on, apparently unaware of her confusion. "You must be, what, fifteen?"

  Ruia straightened her shoulders, but then
slouched again. She didn't like how sitting straight up made her chest stretch out the linen sheath. "Sixteen."

  The cook nodded, and coughed over one of her cooking dishes. "Teteri takes all kinds. Plenty of customers for a woman your age and build." She evaluated her with something resembling a critical eye. "Have you bled yet?"

  Ruia crossed her arms over her chest. She'd bled plenty in the last few days, but she suspected the cook wasn't talking about injuries. "Well, yes. How could that possibly matter?"

  The cook shrugged. "There's some who'll pay more for a woman who hasn't bled yet. Madame Teteri don't usually take them in, but just as well." She offered a dismissive wave. "You're young and full of energy. You'll make plenty of money for Teteri and for yourself if you're clever." She aimed a spoon at Ruia. "And if you're careful, you won't fill that belly with a squaller. You'll make much more money if you’re not reduced to using just hands and mouth for several months."

  Ruia's eyes widened as the cook talked, the realization dawning that the cook had a very different future in mind for her than she hoped for herself.

  She stood up and took a step away from the cook. "Are...you saying I'm to be a...a...working woman?" She didn't know what the proper term was for a woman who rented out her flesh, aside from the vulgar terms she'd heard from time to time.

  "A whore, yes, my dear. And a well-paid one at that. Teteri doesn't run some half-deben den like you'll find in the slums of Waset City. This, my dear..." she indicated the tall senet house.

  "This is a well-run, well managed house of senet and pleasure for all people, no matter whether they're a man or woman, young or old, local, foreigner, or something in between."

  She stared hard at Ruia. "Hard truth out here on the frontier, my dear. Sex is a popular commodity and good boys and girls who listen to Teteri and are smart about their business and not too shy about their body can make an awful lot of money in just a few years."