Bazur’s stomach growled at the smell of the fresh baked buns. Hoggard was correct, he felt like he could eat a horse and go back looking for its mate. After tackling the plate of fruit and bread, Bazur sat back. “Delicious. Now tell me about General Vargas.”
“What do you want to know? You already know his history with the prince,” said Hoggard. “I’m sure the prince has told you all about it.”
“I need to know how to find the man. Who does he associate with, where does he hang out. Anything that can lead to him.”
“I’ll tell you what I know if you tell me one thing first… Does Kyra know you are asking me these questions?”
Bazur appraised Hoggard carefully. The man was perceptive. His skills went beyond culinary delights. “No,” he admitted. “I’m to visit her later today to discuss the issue. However, Kyra believes we need to track Vargas and have him lead us to his mystery patron.”
“And you believe Vargas is going to kill Kyra the first chance he gets?”
“It’s logical. Kyra’s investigation has gotten closer than any other and they were all killed. Vargas will be desperate to get her off the case. I have to stop him before he can do that.”
“It sounds like you are more interested in saving Kyra than you are finishing the job. That doesn’t sound like the legendary badland savage I’ve been hearing about all these years. The half-orc who lives alone, cares for no one and fears nothing.”
“I’m not sure what I feel about Kyra, but she is my business partner now and having her killed would be bad for business. I would rather hunt down Vargas myself and kill him. If I can make him talk about his employer, that is a bonus.” Bazur wasn’t sure if he believed the words coming out of his own mouth, but it didn’t matter. He was hunting now. He needed to focus on his prey and not his feelings.
“Uh huh,” said Hoggard, his skepticism written all over his face. “Well, I am all for maintaining healthy ‘business’ relationships so I’ll tell you what you want to know. Kyra makes me a fair amount of money.; I too would rather not see her killed. Vargas keeps a very low profile at the best of times. Now that the prince knows he is involved, he will be even harder to find. You will have an easier time tracking down his associates. For a list of military associates, you will have to deal with Prince Astor. However, if you wanted to talk to his civilian associates, you would want to talk to people like me. People who facilitate meetings between customers looking for particular skillsets and the men who have them.”
“People like you, but not you.”
“Exactly. I know plenty of sellswords and mercenaries, thieves and con artists. For the right price, I can find someone with whatever skill set you need. I don’t do illegal activities. I am a simple bacco owner, but I know people. However, General Vargas is not one of my people. Having been removed from the king’s military makes him undesirable amongst my clientele. You will have to go places that don’t hold the royal family in high esteem.”
It made sense to Bazur. The general had been out of the military for a couple years. If he was taking mercenary work, he was likely using a middle man like Hoggard. And even if he wasn’t, he was hiring a lot of men. Finding them meant being visible or using middle men. Perhaps some of the middle men knew something of Vargas’s client. It was a good place to start looking for Vargas. “Where would I find these middle men?”
For someone like Vargas, there are only a few names that I can think of. Grundal, Rory Black of the Black Widow Bar, and there are a few villages south of Draisha that are full of the type of men that Vargas would be hiring. Southend in particular is a place that I’d visit. I don’t know who is the middle man there, but it wouldn’t take much to find out.”
Three names, well two names and a place, it was a small list. But that was logical. Hoggard probably had a dozen more names that he knew would be a waste of time. If he wasn’t a close associate of Kyra’s, he would’ve been on the list as well and their conversation would’ve been decidedly less friendly. “Thank you for breakfast, Hoggard.”
“Those boys in Southend aren’t particularly fond of the royal family. I wouldn’t wear my royal brooch if I were you.”
“Don’t worry, I have no intention of wearing it. The way I’ll be asking questions will not be proper for a royal representative,” said Bazur.
“Going to break some eggs are you?”
“The only way to make an omelet,” said Bazur as he rose from the table. “Thanks again for the help.”
“Be careful in Southend. Some of those eggs have a hard shell.”
Bazur shrugged. “Eggs are eggs when you hit them with a hammer.”
…
Walking into the brothel, Bazur was met by a bouncer.
The man was several inches shorter than he was and at least twenty pounds lighter. Something that didn’t escape the notice of the man as he nervously looked at Bazur.
“I’m here to see Grundal,” said Bazur.
“Wait here,” said the nervous bouncer as he walked through the sheet covered inner door.
Moments later a tall buxom blonde wearing only a sheer satin single piece of lingerie walked into the entry chamber. “Follow me.”
As Bazur followed the woman through a maze of corridors, he noted that the blonde wasn’t as naked under the see through garment as he first assumed. In the woman’s hair was a long pin holding her golden honey locks in a bun. The pin was in the shape of a small dirk and the tip looked as sharp as any blade Bazur owned. He took another assessing look at the backside of the blonde as she led him towards Grundal. Her legs were thick and powerful and her glutes were prominent, yet the woman carried hardly any fat on her. This woman might look like one of Grundal’s courtesans but he suspected her purpose was far more dangerous. A man like Grundal had many enemies, and having a bodyguard that looked like a paramour was a convenient deception for someone in the brothel business.
The blonde entered a small office and took a place beside Grundal. The tasteful yet simple room, with only a desk and a couple chairs, was a stark contrast to the first room in which he’d met the man.
“Bazur, what brings you here? Business or pleasure?” asked Grundal as he looked up from his work.
“Isn’t pleasure your business?” asked Bazur.
“Yes, yes it its. But it is not yours. I have a feeling you are here for something other than female companionship. I heard that Kyra is being tended to by the royal physicians. I can only assume your visit is in regards to her condition.”
Bazur watched Grundal carefully, trying to get a better understanding of the man and to gauge his response to the next question. “What else have you heard in regards to Kyra?”
“Only that she is now working for Prince Valentine, investigating his troubles. From what I understand, the first three investigators didn’t fare so well.”
Bazur didn’t trust Grundal, but so far he was being at least somewhat honest and forthcoming. “Do you know where I can find Jasper Vargas?”
“Jasper Vargas? Why would you be looking for a man like that… unless Vargas is behind the attacks on the prince?” Grundal scratched his chin. “That makes sense. Talented military man with a grudge against the royal family. Has the connections to gather the number of men necessary to attack caravans and commit murder in Draisha without worrying about the royal guards catching him. Yes, now that I think of it, I’m surprised no one thought of General Vargas before. He is a logical candidate to be hired for such a job. You and Kyra make a good team. No one else has had any success on this case. I suppose since you are here asking me about Vargas you think I might have business connections with the man. I will admit to hiring many mercenaries and facilitating jobs of for others, but no, General Vargas is not someone I do business with. I have some unofficial business ventures that involve friends of the royal family. Doing business with someone like Vargas, who despises the royal family, would jeopardize my relationships with those people, something I cannot afford regardless of how skilled Vargas may be at
his chosen profession.”
“A wise decision. So you have no idea where to look for Vargas then?”
“Well, if you came to see me because you thought I was the middle man involved with hiring Vargas, then it stands that you would want to speak with the others who are capable of facilitating such transactions. There are plenty who deal with mercenaries. In any dive bar in Draisha, you will find someone who knows someone who can get things done, but for professionals, there are really only two names that matter other than mine: Sean Hoggard and Rory Black. Outside of those two, you would likely have to extend your search beyond Draisha.”
Bazur nodded. “Thank you for your assistance.” Grundal’s information was consistent with what Hoggard had said, and Bazur didn’t get the sense Grundal was lying or holding back. The search was starting to narrow. Next he would visit Rory Black.
“Anything for a royal investigator,” said a smiling Grundal. “Just because you aren’t wearing your official royal brooch doesn’t mean there aren’t those of us who know that the prince gave Kyra two pins. Before you leave, are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay for some pleasure. Your last visit left a lasting impression on a few of the girls. They are eager for you to return. Brandy here would be most accommodating if you so choose.”
“Your bodyguards double as concubines?” asked Bazur as he glanced over at the beautiful buxom blonde bodyguard, Brandy, whose smile confirmed it.
“Ha,” said Grundal with a hearty chuckle. “Not many recognize Brandy for what she truly is. Most men see her and their thoughts turn to desire. They see what they want and not what lies beneath that beautiful body. How did you know?”
“Her eyes,” replied Bazur. “And the four-inch dirk that doubles as a hair pin. After that, I started noticing how powerful and strong her body is and that she walks more like a predator than a seductress.”
Grundal slapped his thigh in amusement. “I can’t have my bodyguard walking around totally naked. A little dirk was a necessity. What do you say Brandy, can you defend me totally naked against someone like Bazur here?”
Brandy tilted her head as if she were analyzing Bazur. “No. I could throw my body at him. Slow him down while you ran off, but he’d defeat me quickly and then beat you to a pulp. Even with my dirk, I wouldn’t win against this one.”
Grundal’s smile disappeared. “You must be dangerous, Bazur of the badlands. That is the second of my associates who I trust with my life that have said to give you a wide berth. I will do my best to remember that.”
With a shrug, Bazur replied, “I had a rough childhood. I fought a lot.”
“It is not your skill or your size that makes you dangerous,” said Brandy. “I can see it in your eyes. I can see the demons that lie within you. It is why I don’t want to fight you, and why I do want to bed you. I would like to tease your demons, not anger them.”
Interesting, thought Bazur. “Thank you for the offer, but I will have to decline.” If it weren’t for Kyra, he would perhaps have given a different answer.
“I told you, Brandy. This one is lost to you and any other woman. He belongs to Kyra now, heart and soul. I saw it when they kissed.”
“Once again, I thank you for your cooperation, Grundal. I must leave now. I have another interview to arrange. Where might I find this Rory Black?” Bazur ignored the comments about his heart and soul belonging to Kyra. It was nonsense…
“I would love to be a fly on the wall for that interview. Rory Black is not nearly as accommodating as I am. In fact, I doubt you will be able to get a meeting with him without difficulty. But finding his bar is easy enough. Go to third street and head up it until you see the black spider.”
…
The Black Widow was easy to find. The dusty brick building with a large wooden spider hanging over its front entrance was not what Bazur expected. He had visited three different merchants and each place was unique despite the fact that all three shared a common source of income, being the middle men between customers and shady individuals. Hoggard, with his simple bacco shop, Grundal, who operated his business from the brothel, and now Rory Black’s bar, which was neither simple nor overly sexualized. Rory’s place was big, bustling with customers, and gaudy as all get out. It looked like someone had combined a bar and a circus. In one corner of the bar, Bazur could see cockfighting, another corner had acrobats flipping around bars, and another had a fire eater. The place was a chaotic cluster of entertainers and customers cheering on the spectacles.
Heading to the main bar, Bazur took a seat. The bartender glanced his way and then continued talking to the customer in front of him. Bazur waited a few minutes and then waved towards the bartender. Finally, the man slowly sauntered down the bar to stand in front of Bazur.
“What are you having?” asked the bartender.
“Nothing for now. I’m here to see Rory Black.”
“What business have you with Mr. Black?”
“I’ve a few questions for him. Would you go get him please?”
“Ya, sure bub. Right away.” The bartender turned and walked back down the bar to where he’d been previously standing. He started talking to the same customer as before, an attractive woman with a heavy layer of makeup. Bazur expected that without the makeup and the dark lights of bar she wasn’t as attractive as she wanted to be. Wrinkles around her eyes and saggy flesh on her upper arms indicated her age was much higher than one might guess at first glance. The bartender seemed not to notice as his glance seemed directed towards her chest. Bazur waited another few minutes, watching to see if the bartender signaled anyone or spoke to anyone other than the woman and the occasional other customer who bothered him for a beer. When it became obvious that the bartender was not cooperating, Bazur waved him back.
The bartender reluctantly left the woman and made his way back to Bazur. “You ready for a drink yet?”
“No, I’m still waiting to see Mr. Black.”
“Mr. Black is a busy man. I’m sure he’ll be along any minute now.”
Tired of the bartender’s games, Bazur reached across the bar and grabbed the bartender by the back of his head. He slammed the man’s face into the highly polished oak bar top. Squeezing the man’s head like an overripe pimple, Bazur leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. I would like to speak to Mr. Black. Do you think you might be able to pull yourself away from your female friend for a minute or two and go find him?”
The bartender groaned. “Yes! Anything you want, just let go of my head.”
Bazur let go of the bartender’s head. “Hurry up.”
The bartender stood up, his face was red where it had been pressed up against the bar. He sullenly stared at Bazur and then walked out from behind the bar. “I’ll be right back.”
The bartender scurried off. Bazur watched as the bartender went up to a big burly looking fellow and started pointing back at him. Bazur sighed. Things would’ve been so much simpler if he’d simply done as he asked. On the bright side, it had been forever since he’d been in a good bar fight. He doubted any of Rory Black’s thugs would put up as good a fight as the twin brothers he fought in Pera.
Four thugs surrounded Bazur. The thug the bartender had gone crying to was standing at Bazur’s side. A big man with solid chin and nose that had been broken more than once.
“It’s time for you to leave,” said broken nose.
Bazur turned on his stool so that he was looking at the four men. His eyes scanned the room for more threats, but no one seemed to want to participate. In fact, the once crowded space along the bar was now empty and the majority of the bar patrons had moved away from Bazur. It seemed they were used to seeing Broken Nose escort people out and didn’t want to get in his way. “If you just get Rory Black, there is no need for this to get violent.”
“Look mister, I don’t know you and Sam doesn’t know you. Nobody we don’t know gets an appointment with Mr. Black without us knowing him.”
“Sam?” asked Bazur.
“Ah, poor Sam. Really, I did him a favor though. His face was a little lopsided. I only hope I hit it hard enough to do some good. It would be terrible to go through life that ugly. Well, I don’t have to tell you what that is like, do I?”
Broken Nose smiled, his grin was marred by several missing teeth. “I guess you don’t want to leave.”
“Nope.”
Broken Nose reached out and tried to grab Bazur by the shoulder. Sitting on the stool, Bazur’s shoulder was at Broken Nose’s hip height and should’ve been a quick easy grab. Once Broken Nose had his hand on Bazur’s shoulder, he would yank back, pulling Bazur into the middle of his three fellow thugs. There they could apply the boots to his body until he was sufficiently softened up enough to be tossed out without putting up a fight. The problem was when Broken Nose went to grab Bazur’s shirt collar, he got nothing.
Bazur twisted on his seat as Broken Nose tried to grab him. He turned and dropped his shoulder. Broken Nose’s hand slid on by, smacking into the bar counter. Bazur kicked Broken Nose on the side of his knee. As Broken Nose’s knee buckled under him, Bazur came up off of the stool with a vicious uppercut that met Broken Nose’s chin on its way down. The hard hit staggered Broken Nose. Bazur followed up the uppercut with an overhand left to his nose. A cracking noise filled the bar as Broken Nose’s nose was once again dislocated from its intended position on his face. As Broken Nose crumbled to the ground, thugs two and three grabbed Bazur by the arms, intending to hold him back while thug four beat him.
The thugs were big men, but they were soft. Bellies full of beer and bar pretzels and long days of doing nothing had the men weak for their considerable size. Bazur let his body go limp and let the two thugs hold him up. He kicked his legs out and caught the fourth thug square in the teeth with both his heels. Struggling to keep their balance with Bazur’s dead weight between them, thugs two and three tumbled into the bar stools and released Bazur. Falling to his knees, Bazur turned and threw a short jab to thug number two’s groin.
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