"Twin Palms Tavern, over in the el'Hassen quarter," Cat said, turning to lead the way out.
"Great, the streets of el'Hassen are well lit and pretty safe to walk in at night," Danica said, waving Tianne and Crystal out the door before her. "I still have an aversion to dark streets."
"Doesn't Twin Palms cater to those nasty caravan guards?" Tianne asked, wrinkling her nose at the thought. "They are just a bunch of rowdy, sweaty men fresh off the desert and eager for female companionship. All hands and cocks."
"Yes, but it isn't a rowdy place as taverns go," Cat said. "I've been there many times."
"Don't worry about us," Danica said soothingly. "Me and Cat can take care of ourselves."
* * * * *
Danica's eyes swept the room as they entered. She looked for danger, even though she didn't expect to find any. Dame Isobeth took security seriously.
She led Cat across the Golden Girl's main parlor, their weapons jangling. Neither of them was wearing armor. The few patrons were well dressed and distracted by the women working the room. The two warrior women were barely noticed.
The Golden Girl was what would be called a classy brothel. Which meant that the furnishings were of higher quality, the prostitutes dressed better, and charged more. The parlor was small, only meant as a place where customers could pick the girl they wanted. It was a brothel, not a tavern. There were no stages with nude dancers, but any of the girls could be taken upstairs to their rooms for private shows. The only entertainment in the parlor was conversation and soothing music. And, of course, exciting and beautiful young women.
The parlor's decor was quite feminine. Everything was in soft shades of gold and white. It was the most lace Danica had ever seen in one room. Lamps, windows, tables, everything was draped in expensive Amazon lace. She wondered if this was what all Amazon brothels looked like.
As the brothel's name implied, only blondes plied their trade within its walls. She was impressed with the quality of Dame Isobeth's girls. At best, Danica would only rate herself as average among them. It seemed as if every other girl there was a Silk Slave, and most of the other girls were of noble blood. Danica found her own "commonness" strangely annoying.
For the most part, the girls of the Golden Girl seemed genuinely happy she was staying there. Which pleased Danica to no end. They found her almost total lack of knowledge about being a woman funny, and a little amazing. Her education became their project, and she learned so much. There was a lot more to being a woman than she ever realized. For the most part she really enjoyed their lessons, especially since they were so eager to teach and help her. Danica, though, found their need to constantly talk over everything frustrating at best.
Even after almost four months as a woman, Danica still didn't understand a woman's need to discuss everything in depth. Her new friends all wanted to hear her life story, and tell her theirs, and would ask her questions about what she liked, and didn't like. Like it really mattered. Gods, it drove her crazy sometimes. Danica just wanted to have some fun, tell some jokes, and have sex, but all these women wanted to do was talk, talk, talk. And then talk some more after sex.
I'll never understand them if I live forever.
The biggest problem she found in sex with women now was frustration, and to a lesser extent, loss of control over the situation. Without her manparts she just couldn't seem to find satisfaction with a woman. For her part, it was all foreplay. That, and the fact that the other girls decided what they would do, how they would do it, and how long they had to do it was driving her mad with frustration. After fifteen days of experience Danica was just beginning to learn how to seize the moment from these experts of manipulation. Of course, she could pay for their services and gain absolute control, but that course seemed to be a betrayal of friendship to her.
"Be careful," Tianne said, then hurried up the stairs to her room.
Crystal waved sweetly and hurried over to a middle-aged man just entering the front door. Danica watched her introduce herself and sit. The man looked to be a wealthy merchant to Danica, so might help Crystal get a bit closer to paying off her bond to Dame Isobeth. Unlike her deals with bouncers and other staff, Dame Isobeth expected the prostitutes to pay off their entire bond, not just work for her for six months to a year. Though, as bondholders went, she seemed honest and most girls were able to buy back their bonds within a year or so, if they applied themselves.
Cat donned her long black kaffiyeh and veil before stepping out the door with Danica close behind. Outside, Danica paused to enjoy the cool evening breeze. The sun had long since set, allowing the desert air to cool down quickly.
Heading south and east, they kept to the well-lit streets and boulevards. The City Guard also patrolled these streets better, permitting the locals to come out and enjoy the evening breeze before it grew too cold.
Danica and Cat kept to the middle of the street, giving the locals a wide berth. Without fail, all conversation ceased as they approached and only resumed after their passage. The way these men and women stared, even glared, made both women uneasy. Every time they went out at night, Danica vowed to only do so during the day in the future. In the thicker crowds of day, few locals would pay them any heed.
"Whores!" a man shouted. "Go back to your accursed Empire!"
Both women cringed. The man sounded drunk, but even so, many would agree with him. These people saw foreign women as brazen harlots, totally without sexual mores. The desert folk were a hard people, living in an equally hard land. Their values and morals were likewise hard and unyielding. Danica and Cat increased their pace.
"You're not wanted here," a man said close by, startling both women. "Go home."
"I am," Danica said.
He seemed taken aback by her response, so they were able to pass without further comment. Soon they found themselves in a darker section, and glad for it. No locals gathered on these streets to socialize and enjoy the breeze.
"God of Mercy, how they make me feel dirty," Cat said, shaking her head. "And I try to lead a decent life."
"It's not your fault. They're just too close-minded to see you as you really are. To them, you're a brazen slut just because you wear a sword. It's all you'll ever be to the people of Tamera, Cat."
"I know," she said. She cut her eyes at Danica. "Danica, could I ask you a question?"
"Sure, Cat. Anything."
"Is what you said about really being a man true?"
Danica stopped dead in her tracks. Heart pounding, she gawked at Cat a long moment.
"How did...I mean...You know?"
"The blow to the head left you babbling all night. I never left your side."
"What did I say?" she said almost too quietly to hear.
"A lot. Let's see...some sorceress called Taara stole your body and went to Allaria, and now goes by the name of Talar. You're going for some talisman in Ismat al-Haratha to force her to trade back bodies. The rest was about your time as a Jordani slave, and trip from Samulla with some sex-obsessed bastard named Faiser. Apparently, you're really, really embarrassed by just how much you love to be fucked by men…and some strange ability to see magic."
Danica cringed when she mentioned the liking, no she said loving, sex with men. That was something she really didn't like to admit to herself. So instead she told a complete stranger while delirious. She wondered if she could pass it off as some head injury delusion. She looked at Cat, and considered her own reaction to what she said, and decided not.
"Then you know everything," Danica said, eyes dropping and shoulders slumped. "Gods, curse all mages! Magic has humiliated me again."
The few people within sight turned and looked at them. Danica eyed them warily. If one of them was a witch or mage….
"No, please, I didn't mean to hurt you," Cat said. "I just want to understand. If it's true, I'm willing to help you."
Head jerking up, "Really?"
"If it's true."
"It is! I've been trying to get to Ismat al-Haratha for months," sh
e said. Her excitement died, remembering all that she'd gone through since that fateful night in Elfhaven. "I haven't been too successful lately. Had a few nasty setbacks. You'll never know how glad I am to hear you'll help me."
"I already know. While babbling, you admitted you were going to try and entice me into going with you."
"Oh."
"Yes, 'oh.' But I'm not offended," Cat said, chuckling. Then more soberly, "I will help you right this terrible wrong."
"Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart," Danica said with feeling. "Tonight, I'm buying all the rounds."
"Actually, I'd prefer it if you'd just not flirt so bloody much instead," she said. "It brings all kind of attention my way. Very embarrassing."
"Consider it done, though you should try flirting. It's really quite fun."
Smiling happily, Danica turned to continue down the street. She was immediately brought up short at the sight of two dark shapes bearing down on them. Their size and the rattle of armor said they were male warriors. That terrible night, in that other dark street fifteen days ago, flooded back as the men came within arm's reach.
"Declare yourselves," a harsh voice demanded.
Danica never hesitated. She lashed out with her foot, connecting with the closest man's groin. As he fell retching, the other reached for his hilt. Danica was quicker, pressing the tip of her sword to his throat.
"Yield!"
"Danica, what are you doing?" Cat said. "They're City Guardsmen."
"Guardsmen? Glorious Gods, what have I done?"
"Earned a trip to jail for the both of you," the standing Guardsman growled. "Now, in the name of the Sultan, you yield!"
Danica promptly kicked the Guardsman in the groin, then brought her pommel down atop his head as he bent over in pain. She kicked the other in the temple before turning to Cat.
"Run!"
"Why did you do that?"
Grabbing Cat's arm and dragging her away, "Believe me, neither the Guard nor a magistrate would listen to any excuses or arguments we offered. They would either throw us in a cell for the next twenty years, or sell us into slavery. If that's what you want, then be my guest."
"What's going over there?" a male voice called out.
Two armed and armored men came running their way. By the meager light, Danica could see they were also City Guardsmen.
"Gods," Danica exclaimed quietly when they spotted the downed Guardsmen. "This way."
She led the way into an alley. They had a respectable lead, but their pursuers might be faster. The Guardsmen's experience chasing criminals through the streets would weigh heavily against she and Cat.
"Hurry," Cat urged her.
"I'm running as fast as I can," she said. Then a sound came to her. A not so distance, defiant roar. "You hear that?"
"Hear what?" Cat said, cocking her head as she ran.
Coming to a narrow street, Danica turned right, "This way. Hurry."
They ran up the steep steps of the street. Passing several side streets, they finally reached a wide boulevard. Stopping to get her bearings, Danica could hear the Guardsmen approaching. Then with a smile, she led the way up the boulevard.
Running past one of the city's warhawk aeries, they rounded a corner and ducked into an alley. Danica pulled Cat down into some dark shadows and waited. Soon the Guardsmen ran past, shouting angrily at each other. When she couldn't hear them, Danica led Cat deeper into the alley, making several turns. They soon emerged across the street from the warhawk aerie.
Grinning, Danica asked, "Ever fly a warhawk?"
Looking shocked, "No! I can't."
"It's easy — "
"Warhawks eat people," Cat interrupted, noticeably shaken.
"Not really," she said. "They will eat people, if hungry enough. Their appetites are sort of like that of a dog's. Wild dogs will eat people, too, but these are tame warhawks."
"I've never thought of it like that," Cat said, but still looked worried. "I still don't know how to fly one. Let's wait till morning and get some horses."
"No. They'll be looking for us. Besides, warhawks are the fastest transportation available," Danica said, smiling at the thought. "And I'm getting more impatient to get my body back every day."
When Danica moved to head over, Cat grabbed her arm, "We'll disturb them and bring the Guardsmen back."
"No we won't. Warhawks are pretty smart," she said. Then grinning, "Nothing really scares them that much, except fire."
One of the birds, then another, let out an ear piercing screech. Cat almost jumped out of her skin. Danica suppressed an urge to laugh.
Tightening her grip, Cat said with more urgency. "But I don't know how to fly them."
Prying her hand off, "It's easy. Just tell the bird what you want."
"I don't understand."
"Warhawks are about as smart as a five year old child. They understand almost everything you say," she said. Then as an afterthought, "So be careful of what you say."
"Then they'll know we are trying to steal them."
"Probably, but I'm not sure they really understand the concept. Warhawks don't have the same feelings of loyalty we have, or even that of a dog. I'm not even sure they can tell the difference between people." Looking both ways, she headed across the street. "They tend to obey any orders anyone gives them."
"God of Mercy, I hate this," Cat whispered as they entered the vast aerie.
Warhawks were perched on thick tree trunk sized roosts about a foot off the ground. Despite its name, a warhawk aerie wasn't a building. It was nothing more than a fenced in area with roosts for the birds. This particular aerie covered about six acres, with about half the roosts occupied. The only building was next to the gate and was where the saddles were stored.
Danica and Cat found one young man on guard, dozing just inside the gate. After hitting the guard over the head, they dragged him into the building and took two saddles. Then Danica led Cat all the way to the back of the aerie to avoid being seen from the street while they saddled their mounts.
With her eye already set on the pair of birds they would be taking, Danica barely gave the other warhawks a second thought, or a glance. Though, Cat was a nervous wreck as they marched past the ever vigilant giant birds of prey.
Danica remembered her first time in a warhawk aerie. In her ten year old mind the towering warhawks were all glaring viciously — hungrily — at them. Her first time was in the light of day. Even in the scant light, Danica could make out their massive, hawklike forms perched quietly all around her. Each and every bird watched their every move. It sent icy chills up her back.
"Calm down, Cat, you're starting to spook me now," she whispered.
As they stopped beneath the two chosen warhawks, one reared up and flapped its wings. Danica was surprised to hear Cat gasp in fear, then moan miserably. She found it hard to believe the big bravo was afraid of anything.
Cat, on the other hand, suddenly looked like the mouse just before the eagle snatched it up. Like dinner.
"I said calm down, Cat. He's just excited at the prospect of flight," Danica said. "He has excellent night vision and probably suspects we're going to take him."
"I don't think..." she started in a quivering voice.
Forcefully, "It's all right. Leave everything to me."
Danica dropped the saddle, then stepped confidently up to the perch. She unwrapped the thick leather restraining strap from around it, and then wrapped it around the warhawk's leg. Then she returned to Cat.
After leading Cat to the side, "Now, watch this." Looking up at the bird, she said in a commanding voice, "Saddle!"
The warhawk hopped off the perch and dropped to its belly. Danica grinned at Cat, then took one of the saddles. She walked over and tossed it up behind the bird's thick neck. After ensuring all four straps were hanging off properly, she climbed up on the warhawk's back and positioned the saddle correctly. Then she untied the rope and dowel ladder attached to the high cantle and tossed it down the bird's back.
While doing all this, she gave Cat a running commentary of what she was doing and why. She explained everything on the saddle and how to use it.
A warhawk saddle was a wooden frame covered in leather, much like a horse saddle. There was a high pommel and cantle, but no stirrups. None were needed. The wide, thick leather covering behind the cantle was called the sleeve. It was generally four feet wide, with numerous leather straps for securing any cargo.
Hopping off, "Stand!"
The warhawk rose up slowly, careful not to dislodge the saddle. Danica picked up the heavy steel buckle with its four loops. She attacked the top two straps first, then the lower two. The saddle straps each had a large steel loop halfway down their length. The straps looped between it and the buckle similarly to the way a girth is tightened on a horse. Only with a warhawk, there were four straps to tighten down, making a large "X" on the bird's chest.
When she was done, "Finished!"
The warhawk turned and hopped back up onto the perch. Danica released the other bird's leg, and then made Cat help her saddle it. By the time they finished, Cat seemed more in control of her fear. Then she had the bird squat down again.
"Any questions?" she asked Cat as they stood by the squatting warhawk.
"No. I don't really know enough to ask any intelligent questions yet," she said.
"Jump up in the saddle," Danica said. When Cat had settled in, she pulled the wide safety strap across her lap. "Keep this on at all times while airborne. Understand?"
"Yes," she said, nodding. "Is the ride rough?"
"When they flap their wings hard during take-off its similar to being on a horse, but then its smooth as a baby's butt after that. They flap gentler and less frequently," Danica assured her. "But you never know when a gust will hit you, or the bird will make some sudden maneuver."
"Oh, my Gods," Cat groaned, eyes rolling up.
Chuckling, "You'll be fine. Trust me. After I take-off, order it to fly. And then tell it to follow me."
"If you say so," she said, looking worried. "How do I stop it?"
"It'll follow me until you tell it otherwise, so when I land you will too."
The Elfmaid's Curse (The Elfmaid Trilogy Book 1) Page 24