by J. Hepburn
"Namely: How to leave!" He flourishes his sword once more before sheathing it.
"How?" Tiglis breathes, feeling that at this point he deserves encouragement in the form of her enthralled prompting.
Kalle shrugs expansively. "Why, I grabbed a bow and some more arrows, and stepped off the roof onto Gabrio's balcony. There was nobody there, so I continued my journey to the ground. Two guards still remained outside his door: I put an arrow through the helmet of one. The other did not recover from his surprise in time to present me any challenge before I had recovered from my landing and, he having no bow about him, I decided that now I may finally feel free to take to my heels and lose myself in the darkness of Molos. Some arrows winged their way after me, but I am difficult to hit at the best of times, and they had difficult, long shots to make.
"And so I returned here, taking a mildly circuitous route as I found my way through still-unfamiliar streets, returning triumphant, to find…!" He spreads his hands eloquently. "Nobody here! Nobody to greet me! Nobody to assure me of their safety!"
Tiglis, laughing, refuses to feel guilty.
Kalle sighs. "So, seeing no other option, I settled myself to wait, not knowing whether Orianna had been caught, badly injured, or had instead snuck away and abandoned me."
At that, Tiglis does feel a tinge of guilt, but hardens her heart, knowing the night was so chaotic Orianna had been entirely within her rights, having been told to flee, to use her time as profitably as she saw fit.
Kalle gives her a hurt look. "Until finally, finally! There is a knock upon the door."
Tiglis feels treacherous guilt now, but cannot stop herself laughing at his expression. "And so what were these items you managed to grab?"
Kalle coughs, seeming suddenly abashed. It is, Tiglis reflects as she gazes with interest at his changing expressions, a night of many firsts. "Well, I did see one little trinket. I wanted to give it to, uh, you. To Tiglis."
With one of his conjurer flourishes, he holds up a wide, jewel-encrusted, golden bracelet.
Tiglis's eyes become big as saucers. "Oh!"
"I thought it might look good upon your arm," Kalle says, with unaccustomed diffidence.
He holds it out almost deferentially.
"Oh!" Eyes still big, she reaches out to snatch it from him, turning it this way and that in the light of the lanterns.
Then she seizes Kalle's head, pulling him into a feverish, hungry, open-mouthed kiss.
She draws back abruptly, attention going straight back to the bracelet. She lies on her back as she pushes one sleeve up her arm to try it on. She slips it around her wrist, examines it critically, then pushes it back to her forearm, where it sits snugly. It is not quite large enough to sit around her upper arm.
Kalle watches her with a hungry expression in his eyes to match her kiss, his tongue slowly licking his lips.
"Will it be easy to leave Molos, do you think?" Tiglis turns her arm to examine the bracelet from different angles.
"Have you not planned for this?" Kalle's eyes are watching Tiglis's arm twist and turn.
Tiglis favours him with a steady, somewhat arch, look. "I was planning to buy passage with a caravan. I was not planning on leaving with a wanted man, nor leaving when my brother is under suspicion himself and has not been seen for a day or more."
"Ah. Yes. Again, I apologise. But to return to your question: Perhaps. Can you ride? We can buy horses to get us to Voren."
Tiglis shakes her head. She lifts her injured leg to glance critically from the bracelet to her ankle. Kalle's eyes track along her straight limb, from bandages to ankle and back again. "Few people in Molos ever have need to ride."
"Then I should be able to secure us passage with a merchant's caravan, even under Melech's nose. I am assuming that Melech has men at the gates, and influence."
"You are correct," Tiglis says, as she tries the bracelet over her foot. It does not quite fit.
"It is always so," Kalle says, with gloomy phrasing but cheerful voice. "Then perhaps some deception will be necessary. Most caravans will not mind stepping around the local big man if they are sure they will not be caught. Many relish the opportunity. They will, I am sure, take me as a guard. If Zerris..."
"Zerris will not be coming with us," Tiglis says flatly. "Tiglis will be leaving the city. Zerris will be staying."
Kalle's eyes gleam. "And Orianna?"
Tiglis smiles at Kalle. "Oh, she is useful. I like being Orianna. I will have to remember her." She returns her attention to the bracelet. "But perhaps not for a while. It would be nice, when stepping outside these walls where too many people know myself or Zerris, to be simply myself for a while."
Kalle does not take his eyes off her. "How mad are the guards going to be? I'm new to this city and suddenly I'm leaving after the Egg is stolen—and many guards are killed."
Tiglis shrugs carelessly. "I already thought of that. People come and go all the time, and the city guards will be laughing at Gabrio. Oh, they're eager to get it back because the theft made them look bad, and the deaths must be answered, but it was stolen from Gabrio's house while he and all his servants and guards were there. It's his problem. They'll want to search all the wagons, so hide your loot well. They know what they're looking for and how large it is. It's hard to hide, so they won't look as hard for it. And besides, they will find it hard to credit that any one man, especially one so small," Tiglis says, relishing the opportunity to use the goad so often applied to Zerris, "could have been responsible for such mayhem."
"Nothing I'm not used to, then," Kalle says through his usual grin. "How much will you need to carry?"
Tiglis giggles, still admiring the jewel-encrusted gold. "Oh, I like this! No, I won't need to carry much. The contents of a small chest, tied in a bag. I can carry my weapons and tools on me. I'll dress as a woman of the desert, which should stop people asking too many questions or coming too close to me."
The erotic hunger that shines in Kalle's eyes does not seem to have stopped him thinking. "Was it your mother who came from the desert?"
Tiglis takes the bracelet off to try it on her other arm. She examines it critically, then moves it back. "My mother," she agrees. "She came to the city when she gave birth out of marriage to a baby who did not look enough like a tribesman. To my father's credit, he remembered her and he accepted us both and they lived together until I was four, when he fell ill and died. You have good eyes, to tell we are of mixed blood. It's not so unusual in Molos, you'll have seen, but it's handy―we are a fierce people who see a need to defend our honour, and those who don't know me are a little frightened of me."
"Was it she who taught you, who she believed a son, to make your own clothes?"
Tiglis turns her head towards Kalle, giving him a warm smile at his phrasing. "You are good. How closely have you been watching me, assassin Kalle?"
Kalle's cheerful grin does not reach his eyes, which are still hungry. "I watched you very closely, when I followed you through the market. I wanted to learn your secrets."
Tiglis's expression does not change. "Now that you have, what will you do with them?"
Kalle's expression holds constant as well. "Nothing."
Tiglis examines him thoughtfully for several heartbeats, then grins. "That is good. I would have needed to plan very carefully if I wanted to slit your throat."
She wriggles across the rugs until she can pull his body against hers.
After a while, Tiglis breaks their kiss to giggle. "I hope all your knives are secure. I can't afford to sleep through the morning."
He separates from her reluctantly. "My knives are always safe."
Tiglis retrieves her glass, then watches with fascination as Kalle divests himself of a startling range of short and long knives, tool wraps, metal vials, and even a thin line of rope that was not obvious.
This necessitates him removing his boots and jerkin. Tiglis stares avidly, her pulse quickened and her attention seized by curiosity, desire, and the thrill of adventure
. Although she has seen many men naked, she has not seen Kalle, and she has not seen them as Tiglis. Fath and Alia had made much good coin as lovers, but Tiglis has been chaste, and all the memories and skills of those two could not stop Tiglis feeling the excitement of adventure, of novelty, and of eager transgression. She is finally able to love as Tiglis. She composes her features in an expression of delight and encouragement.
"If you dress as a tribeswoman, will you be able to convince a caravan to take you on as a guard?" Kalle asks.
As she lies on her side dressed only in a light shirt and pants that stir in the slightest breeze, Tiglis knows the only thing that looks dangerous about her is her slow smile. Leopards, too, look soft and friendly until they yawn to reveal fangs longer than a child's fingers.
Kalle nods approvingly. "Do you have a sword?"
"I've never learned to fight with a sword, but I can take any man in the city with a long dagger, and I have a few of those," Tiglis says.
Kalle grins. "I'll teach you."
Tiglis restrains the comment about swordsmanship that springs instantly to mind. Instead, she stretches her arm forward to pluck impatiently at his silk shirt.
He unties the laces at his throat, her expression encouraging him to peel it off his body before she does it for him.
When his torso is bare, Tiglis reaches out to trace a scar running down the right side of his chest, narrowly missing his small nipple. "Tell me this story," she murmurs.
"A training fight, in the guild. A mistake I never made again."
"And this one?" She touches a short, narrow scar just under his ribs on his left.
"An arrow that didn't quite miss me. That was only a year ago, on a road through bandit country. I don't know if I killed the archer, but if he survived, he is missing many of his friends."
"And this one?" A thick welt sits on the outside of his right forearm.
"A burn. A bad mistake. My sleeve caught fire, and I had to put it out while running."
"And this one?" A long line runs from the left side of his belly down inside his pants.
Kalle unties his belt to push his pants off his hips. Tiglis's finger follows the scar down onto Kalle's thigh, past his swelling cock.
"I went to bed with a woman who joined me in attacking a small caravan. We were successful; then she tried to rob me. She did not succeed, but I bled a lot."
Tiglis smirks at his expense. "This one?" Kalle's pants slide past a thick, circular welt on his right thigh.
"Arrow, while I was leaving a building in haste. It slowed me down enough for several guards to catch me. Unfortunate for them."
Kalle kicks his pants off his feet without revealing any more scars. Tiglis rests her hand lightly on his cock, which reaches full attention.
She pushes him onto his back so she can straddle him, sitting on his thighs as she wraps her fingers around his shaft. She kisses the scar past his nipple, then the scar around his neck. "And this one?"
Kalle, staring at the ceiling, hesitates before replying. Tiglis, hearing his unfamiliar hesitation, becomes very still and attentive. "When an assassin attempts his first kill, a fellow student becomes his target's protector. Elijah had been my first lover. If I had managed to avoid him, he would still be alive, but we knew each other too well, and the advantage is always with the watcher, not the intruder. But although he was the better lover, I had always been the better fighter. The rules only allow for one outcome of a fight, and we were being watched."
Tiglis looks into his eyes. Kalle, whose expression had turned uncharacteristically bleak, grins as soon as his eyes catch hers. The expression does not go beyond his mouth and cheeks.
She kisses his lips gently. Her hand has not moved on his cock. "How many lovers have you killed?"
"Only one."
Kalle shivers involuntarily when Tiglis's hand moves.
"How many lovers have you had?"
"You don't mean how many have I bedded, do you?"
"No."
"Only one."
Tiglis says nothing as her mouth returns to his neck, her tongue tracing the thin line of scar tissue.
She feels his body stiffen slightly as she does, but she moves her hand again and the stiffening becomes a jerk of pleasure and a startled gasp.
Her mouth feels the pulse in his neck accelerate.
He begins pulling her shirt up her back. Tiglis hesitates but finally relents, sitting up to pull it over her head.
Her torso is lean and hard, with veins visible under her skin and her nipples sitting on muscle, not breast tissue, but she still looks just as feminine undressed as she did in her robes, and Kalle's eyes gleam.
Kalle rests his fingers lightly on her belly, sliding them gently up to her ribs.
Tiglis watches him through hooded eyes. When his hands slide around her flanks, she slips backwards out of his grasp, moving down his legs until she can lower her mouth to his groin.
Kalle's breath catches in his throat.
Tiglis teases Kalle's cock with light fingertips and darting kisses until she is sure it can get no harder and Kalle's gasps have become groans of frustration.
She slides her lips over him, bobs once, then smoothly pushes her mouth down until he is deep in her throat and her nose is pressed against his belly.
"By the Gods, how did you learn to do that?" Kalle gasps.
Tiglis draws back slowly enough to make Kalle shudder. "Rich men who pay well to ensure their anonymity expect to get more than anonymity in return."
Kalle chuckles, but the sound quickly becomes another groan as Tiglis's fingers tickle his balls and her mouth envelops his cock again.
"Was that Tiglis, offering such things in return for silence?"
She squeezes his balls sharply, making him yelp and jump, then lifts her head just enough to say, "No. Tiglis is Zerris's sister, a good city woman of the desert, who is known for purity. That was Alia, who can be hired by those who know the how of it, or the boy-man Fath, who can be hired by those who know even more."
Kalle's eyes widen at the extra names, but then his forehead creases. "'Boy-man'?"
"Young, and beardless. Desert men mock those without beards. City men just want their men to be pretty, and soft, and call them 'boys' to make themselves feel more like men."
Kalle laughs, but weakly. He lifts his head to look down at her sliding over the full length of his cock. His eyes focus for a second on the pants she is still wearing. He reaches down to take hold of her shoulders to pull her up towards him, but a brief squeeze of his balls make his hands drop back to the rug he is lying on.
She does not alter the light, deft touches of her fingers, nor the tauntingly slow movements of her mouth, as Kalle begins shivering and his fingers curl into the rug underneath him.
Kalle's jaw clenches. His body goes rigid. Tiglis rolls her eyes up to focus on his face. Although her lips are spread around his cock, her cheeks twitch in a smirk.
When Kalle's entire body quivers with the effort of holding himself in, she rolls her lips away from his cock while drawing her teeth slowly up the shaft.
Kalle comes with a howl.
When he has finished, Tiglis sits up, one hand lightly resting on his cock, the other cleaning a drop of his come off her lips.
He stares at her for several heartbeats, then reaches for the waistband of her pants.
She shakes her head quickly before lying down beside him, with her back to him, and pulling his arms about her.
Kalle hugs her, one hand resting over a nipple. She falls asleep quickly.
Preparing to Leave Molos
They sleep the deep, long sleep of the safe, the victorious, and the utterly exhausted. Tiglis—as Zerris, then Orianna, then Zerris once more—had been running on her third wind by the end of the night, after physical and emotional turmoil that carried through from the night before. Kalle showed it less but fell asleep as quickly, and does not wake a second before Tiglis does.
"What now?" she asks him after they have ret
urned from relieving themselves at opposite sides of the small yard. It is late afternoon, the heat still oppressive but the markets already active.
"I would find us a berth on a caravan leaving Molos as soon as possible," Kalle says, "but I fear giving a hint to anyone who might be hunting us, the guards included. Our safest option is to go to the yards at sunup tomorrow, and seek our passage then. We can pay if need be." He sets coffee to brewing. "Is there anything you need to do?"
She shakes her head emphatically. "Anything Zerris or Tiglis does will raise questions, and I wish to disappear as of yesterday. If I must abandon my home and my belongings, so be it. I keep little, and I have the only things of sentiment or real value here with me. But there is still much I can usefully take from my rooms and a little I can sell, provided it is safe to do so."
"Then that is our quest."
Tiglis raises her eyebrows at his phrasing but sets to dressing without comment. She puts on her light underclothes, swapping her damaged pants for a clean and whole pair, before deciding what appearance to give.
Then she frowns at Kalle.
Standing in only his pants, half his attention on the coffee, he gives Tiglis an offended look. "Do I displease you?"
"Melech's men will be hunting you, and therefore so will any man who might want to court Melech's favour. And, quite possibly, Kedar's men as well, after what happened in the Scarlet Scorpion. I expect my rooms to be watched. You should be disguised."
Kalle spreads his arms. "I have never known such a city for holding a grudge!" he cries. "What sort of disguise, exactly, did you have in mind?"
"Clothes. You are as distinctive as that sword of yours. If you left the sword, you might be able to hide more easily, but I don't have one to offer you in exchange."
Kalle shrugs. "It would be a shame to ruin a disguise with a small detail like that. It is not my only weapon. Clothes, however… You can move with astonishing ease in those robes, but I have no practice. I would prefer a little more familiarity before I might have to defend myself while wearing them."