The city centre proved to be a large open square in which a full-time market was established. Stalls sold all manner of goods, from exotic fruit to skinny goats, even wild animals. Tassin spotted a swinging sign and made her way towards it, arriving outside an inn built of white stone and crooked, weathered timbers.
She turned to Sabre. “I need to get out of this crowd. We will stay here.”
He glanced up at the sign overhead, which read ‘The Singing Harlot’, and smiled. “Looks like a nice place.”
She gave him a disgusted look and pushed through the bead curtain. “It is just a name.”
Tassin went to the counter at the back of the common room and haggled with the innkeeper, mostly about paying extra for two beds. Settling for one bed, she said over her shoulder, “You will have to sleep on the floor.”
Sabre shrugged, his attention caught by a serving girl clad in a skimpy top and sheer pantaloons, her ankles jingling with little bells. “Maybe not.”
She stared at him, aghast. “You have to guard me!”
“Lock the door.”
Tassin snorted and followed the innkeeper through a bead-hung archway into a passage, where he showed her to a door at the end. They entered a cramped room with a barred window and a narrow bed against one wall. As soon as the innkeeper left, Sabre closed the door, achieving an oasis of peace from the hubbub outside, and sat on the bed.
Tassin folded her arms. “So you think you are going to spend the night with one of those sluts?”
He tilted his head, looking puzzled. “I’d like to find somewhere comfortable to sleep, so... yeah, I guess so.”
“How will you pay her?”
Sabre leant back, raising his brows. “Obviously you’re not going to share any of the money I earned getting my head bashed in.”
“Certainly not. There is not much left, and we need it for more important things.”
“Maybe one of them will take pity on me.”
Sabre did not sound hopeful, and Tassin was surprised he did not seem to realise just how likely that was. The thought of him frolicking with a tavern wench brought a bitter taste to her mouth, and she played her last card.
“Do you think the cyber will allow you to leave me?”
He frowned, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t know.”
“But you are going to find out.”
“Damn right.”
When they went to the common room to eat, Sabre drew a lot of looks from the serving girls, but he made no effort to encourage them, glancing away from their blatant come-hither stares. Instead, Tassin attracted trouble in the form of a tall, bearded man with a dusky complexion. He approached their table when they had finished eating a rather tough goat stew, and bowed to Tassin.
“May I buy you a drink?” he asked in a deep, strangely accented voice.
Tassin was startled. Sabre eyed the stranger with what appeared to be a mixture of annoyance and dislike. She wondered what he was thinking, and how he would react to this situation.
The Cyber Chronicles - Book I: Queen of Arlin Page 31