“I hope he is well.” Prince Valentine paused for a moment as if he was struggling to find the right words. “I don’t mean to be indelicate and talk about business as if it has a higher priority over Bazur’s life, but your plan hinged on Bazur talking to Owen Pickett and seeing if he confesses to his crimes so we can be fully sure the matter is solved. Should I have the royal guards detain him?”
“It isn’t indelicate. Your life and that of your associates is in danger as long as Owen remains alive, assuming it truly is him behind the attacks. But I still believe that detaining him is a bad idea. Discretion is still the best option. However, with Bazur possibly out of commission, we will need to think of a new plan. Can you think of any areas where Owen would be vulnerable? Any secrets or associations that could be used against him? Or even a way of tracking his location or a way into his residence?”
“The Pickett Estates are almost as well guarded as the royal palace, perhaps even better as it is smaller and very secure. I wouldn’t recommend that as a first option.” Prince Valentine scratched his head as he mulled over the problem. Suddenly, he smiled. “By the gods I am dense sometimes. Why didn’t I think of this earlier? Owen has a particular type of woman he desires, or rather a particular way of being pleasured. One that his wife is not likely to embrace.”
“So he brings in mistresses?” asked Kyra.
“No, even better. He frequents a particular brothel to get the attention he desires.”
“Please tell me you know which brothel?” asked Kyra hopefully. Sex was many a man’s weakness and it was one Kyra knew how to exploit.
“No, but I know that it is one of Grundal’s establishments.”
“Your Highness, that is perfect.” Grundal, for all his flaws was someone she knew she could work with, someone who understood discretion.
“I don’t know why that slipped my mind. I guess it didn’t seem relevant when you first told me that Owen was likely behind the attacks. But compared to some of my cousins, Owen’s little fetish seemed mild, and even for the nobles, visiting Grundal’s establishments is commonplace. His women are exceptional, or so I’m told,” said Prince Valentine with a bit of a guilty smile.
“Yes, they are,” agreed Kyra. Grundal’s establishments were the cream of the crop in Draisha’s sex trade world. To have a place among Grundal’s concubines was a place of honor, it meant the woman was not just beautiful, as Draisha was full of beautiful whores, but she was a student of her craft and exceptionally skilled at giving pleasure. In a city where so many of the poor were only half a step removed from being slaves, and many others still were if not in name, the upper-class pleasure houses were a godsend for many women. A girl starving and begging for food one day could suddenly become a desired and powerful goddess that rich and powerful men begged to bed. In Draisha, working at one of the high end brothels was the equivalent of being a blacksmith or a baker, you were a tradesperson with an exceptional skill and not a slave forced to submit to a master’s demands.
“Would you like an escort to Grundal’s? I can have one of the royal palace guards put on commoner clothing so it wouldn’t be official.”
“No. I’m safe in the city. And Grundal and I have had plenty of business dealings. Now that I’m a royal investigator, he has been very cooperative. I will speak to him and then finish the investigation. If I need muscle, Grundal will provide it.”
“Good. And he better be cooperative. I don’t mind his brothels. He treats his women better than any other brothel in the city, but some of his other business ventures have not been so in line with the royal interests. During the last war with the Oclesh, he was caught selling information about the royal palace to an Oclesh spy.”
“And you let him live?” asked Kyra in surprise.
“We came to an understanding,” said Prince Astor with a shrug. “He now understands that information flows one way. It is how I learned about Owen’s little habit. Grundal told me everything he had on all of the nobles of Draisha. It was a very enlightening conversation. Now I allow him to continue his business ventures, but he has a better understanding of the consequences of crossing me.”
Kyra read between the lines. Grundal had been tortured and he’d given up anything the prince asked. “Wouldn’t that make Grundal a potential enemy. Perhaps he has a bigger part in this than we imagined. He was a possible link between Owen and Vargas.”
“It is possible but I doubt it. When we had our chat, he suffered pain but no permanent damage. I had Marcus use his magical salves to heal the wounds. In fact, I think Grundal left our care in better shape than he came in, physically anyways. Grundal knows he is lucky to be alive and appreciates that I turn a blind eye to many of his more sordid ventures in exchange for information and a certain degree of loyalty. I’ve tested him over the years, and he has done well. He doesn’t report every incident to me but enough that I know he isn’t actively plotting against me. Besides, Grundal needs me. If Owen Pickett or another of my more traditional relatives were made king, then he would be out of business. Most of the traditionalists frown on commoners owning businesses. They would rather all the brothel and gambling establishments be run by nobles using slaves. No, Grundal is not a threat. In the big picture, he is an ally, just not one I can admit to publicly.”
“With your intent to implement more reforms in the kingdom, I suspect you are going to have more enemies than allies.”
“Yes,” agreed Prince Valentine. “Most commoners favor change, at least the changes they understand, and a fair percentage of the merchant class favor things as they are and would consider more changes, but almost all the noble families think my father and his father have already gone too far. They hate even the simplest changes. They will resist change. I’m afraid Owen Pickett and Vargas won’t be the last to try sabotage my efforts. It is why I need you as Royal Investigator. The royal palace guards are exceptional at keeping me safe, but are a blunt weapon. I need someone who understands discretion and knows when to look the other way to a crime when the big picture is involved. I need someone who understands what we are trying to achieve and will act accordingly. And most importantly, I need someone who actually can solve a crime without ending up dead.”
“You’re willing to put a lot of faith in a thief and a mercenary. Perhaps too much.”
“I have little choice. It is safer for me to put my trust in brothel owners, thieves, and mercenaries than my own family. I need you Kyra. There are going to be many challenges ahead and I need someone smart like you dealing with the problems as they arrive, and gods willing, Bazur. He has proven to be an adept investigator. Now go see Grundal. We can talk more about the future later. Right now, we have a problem you need to deal with.”
19
AS she walked down the streets of Draisha, Kyra thought about her conversation with Prince Valentine Astor, future king of Draisha. She was still hesitant about the man. He seemed mostly to be a good ruler who cared for his people and wanted to make changes that benefited the lower class citizens of the kingdom, but something still made her wary. Yet, his offer of making the position of royal investigator a permanent one was more and more appealing. She had become a thief and a forgery expert out of necessity, not some desire to rebel against society or to seek thrills. She did it because it was that or become a whore. She liked sex, but was way too picky about who she played with to consider it a career option, so a life of crime became a necessity. Her criminal activities paid well, and if it weren’t for her old gambling habits, she’d be rather well off. In some ways becoming royal investigator would mean less earning potential as she would have to be more selective about her other activities and it meant more danger. However, the fact was, she enjoyed being investigator. Solving the riddle of who was behind the attacks had been a good mental challenge, something she rarely got being a thief. And the bond she was starting to build with Bazur was something special. It frightened and confused her to have such feelings for a man, but she couldn’t help it. Something about Bazur dr
ew her in like a moth to a candle. As she drew closer to Grundal’s brothel, she couldn’t help but think about the last visit. It was true Grundal made his business partners participate but she had been more than willing to let it happen, and watching the women please Bazur had made her hot and more than a little jealous, until he told her his thoughts were only of her. Then the lewd sex only served to further her desire for Bazur. In a way, she’d used Grundal’s rules to her own gain. She knew before they entered the brothel what would happen and she could’ve avoided it. But she had wanted to see how Bazur would react. It was her own reaction that caught her off-guard. Jealousy was an unfamiliar feeling. She’d already known Bazur was trustworthy and honorable, but she’d never seen the raw animalistic side of him truly unleashed before and it was exciting.
Kyra’s thoughts were interrupted as she made her way into Grundal’s. It was time to focus on Owen Pickett, not her own feelings.
One of the bouncers recognized her. “Here to see the boss?” he asked.
Kyra nodded.
The bouncer stood up and walked her through the brothel. Grundal was in his office. The bouncer knocked on the door. Brandy the beautiful blonde bodyguard answered it. “She’d like to see the boss,” said the bouncer.
Brandy opened the door and let Kyra in.
“What can a simple merchant do for one of the prince’s royal investigators?” asked Grundal as he looked up from his work and saw Kyra entering the room.
“My, what a formal greeting for an old friend,” said Kyra as she sat down across from him.
“Your recent upgrade in status requires it. At least in public anyways. I’m just practicing, a reminder to myself that you are now a respected official and not just a degenerate gambler.”
Kyra grinned. “Oh, I am still a degenerate at heart. Otherwise, I wouldn’t enjoy your company so much. I’m here because it seems one of your regular clients may be the one behind the attacks against the prince’s associates. Prince Astor wanted me to make sure of your innocence before he made any decisions.”
Grundal’s eyebrows furrowed and his nose twitched as he considered the implications of Kyra’s words. “I can assure you that I had nothing to do with the attacks and will do whatever it takes to prove my innocence.”
“I told Prince Astor as much, but he seems to have some misgivings about where your loyalties may lie. I’m glad you are going to give me your full cooperation.” Now that Kyra knew she had Grundal’s full attention, she could get his assistance. Grundal liked to get the upper hand in any negotiation he entered. But she’d effectively removed that option by giving him the not too subtle reminder of his previous standing with the prince. “I need to have a discreet conversation with Lord Pickett.”
“Lord Pickett? Yes, that does make sense. He has as much reason to hate Prince Astor as anyone. Arranging a conversation with him will be no issue. In fact, you won’t have to wait long at all. Lord Pickett makes almost daily visits. He is a man of routine. He will likely be here within the hour. Your timing is exceptional.” Grundal turned to Brandy. “See to it that Lord Pickett is put in the blue room.”
“The blue room?” asked Kyra.
“Lord Pickett has particular tastes which require certain apparatus. Also, the blue room has particularly thick walls and is isolated from the other guest rooms. It is a room that meets both Lord Pickett’s needs and yours.”
“Thank you, your cooperation is appreciated.”
“Anything for Prince Astor’s royal investigator. I have no reason to align myself with or assist those attacking the prince. His interests and mine are aligned.”
For now, thought Kyra. Grundal would be incredibly helpful as long as helping the prince was to his benefit.
“Your partner is the talk of the mercenary world today. I’ve heard from a few men that were in Southend about his fight with General Vargas. A great deal of money was lost betting against Bazur. Vargas was a legend in the mercenary world for his pit fighting. I’m told Bazur won by luring Vargas in close enough so that Vargas would stab him. Not the strategy I would’ve picked, but effective nonetheless.”
“He did what was necessary,” said Kyra. She wanted desperately to ask Grundal if he had any information as to Bazur’s health and whereabouts, but she didn’t dare ask. To show weakness in front of Grundal was asking for trouble.
“Indeed. I feel most fortunate that we were able to come to amicable terms in regards to your previous debts, and that unfortunate business regarding the collection of those debts. I wouldn’t want Bazur waving his blades at me. He can be a most determined man when he sets his mind to killing someone.”
Kyra smiled. It was good that Grundal was a bit edgy about that incident. She didn’t want him forgetting how close he’d come to meeting a decisive end due to his shoddy treatment of her. “You mean that unfortunate business of your man Barton wanting to rape and kill me?”
“Bygones, my dear,” said Grundal as he waved his hand as if to sweep away the idea. “Gambling debts are a serious business and sometimes rash decisions are made on my behalf. We needn’t dwell on such trivial matters. What matters is the present and the future. Presently, I am making every effort to assist you in your investigation so that in the future you and Prince Astor will be reminded of my undivided loyalty.”
“Not everyone is so easily able to forget the past, but I’ll do my best to focus on your current deeds instead of those that are in the past.” The prince nor I will forget all that you’ve done, so you better keep being a good boy, was what Kyra didn’t say, but she knew Grundal would read between the lines.
“That is all a humble servant of the royal family can ask,” said Grundal.
Brandy returned to the office. “It is time.”
“Lord Pickett is ahead of schedule, how fortuitous,” said Grundal.
Again Kyra smiled. It was good to see Grundal squirm. He was obviously a little uncomfortable with her new role as royal investigator. He no longer could treat her like another simple customer, and their own history gave him reason to believe she might not give Prince Astor the type of glowing reports that he desired.
Kyra followed Brandy down a series of narrow hallways until they reached a doorway.
Brandy turned and said, “Lord Pickett is inside. The girls will quietly leave as soon as you enter.”
Kyra nodded.
“Is there going to be a degree of finality to your discussion with Lord Pickett?” asked Brandy.
“Very likely,” admitted Kyra. “Depending on his answers, but I suspect it will be.”
“Just do what you need to do. We will take care of any cleanup necessary in a discreet manner.”
Nobody will know Lord Pickett died in Grundal’s brothel, thought Kyra. Having clients killed under your roof was bad for business, and Kyra could trust that Grundal would make sure Lord Pickett’s body was never seen again. Kyra entered the room. Lord Pickett was spread eagle, naked except for a blindfold, tied to two tall poles in the middle of the room. Two scantily clad concubines were flaying Lord Pickett with braided leather whips. Lord Pickett’s lily white ass was pink where the leather had struck him.
The two girls said nothing. They put down their whips and didn’t make a sound as they left the room.
Kyra walked up and grabbed one of the whips. She deftly snapped her wrist. The leather strands smacked against Lord Pickett’s back. He groaned in a perverse mixture of pain and pleasure.
Kyra leaned in and whispered in his ear. “You’ve been a very bad boy, Lord Pickett.”
“Yes, I have. Punish me!” said Lord Pickett eagerly.
Kyra walked around until she was in front of Lord Pickett. She flicked her wrist, snapping the whip until it struck him in the balls.
Lord Pickett flinched in pain, but still groaned his approval.
Kyra realized just pain itself wasn’t going to cause Lord Pickett to spill his secrets. Fear, not pain, was the way to finding out the truth. “Tell me, Lord Pickett. What is the proper puni
shment for a traitor? I’m told hanging or having your head chopped off is the normal punishment, but that seems too quick. Myself, I believe that a traitor needs time to reflect on his actions.”
“What?” said Lord Pickett, his confusion at the new line of questioning was obvious. He couldn’t tell if this was still part of his sex play or something new.
Kyra decided to enlighten him. She took her knife and put it under the blindfold. She used the blade to pry the blindfold up and off of his face. The blade cut into his skin opening a tiny cut.
Lord Picket blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. He looked at Kyra, his eyes wide with suspicion. “Who are you?”
“I’m either your salvation or your destruction. Which it will be is up to you, Lord Pickett.”
“Untie me. I am done with this game,” said Lord Pickett.
“This is no game, Lord Pickett.” Kyra lowered her blade until it rested on his nipple. She sliced it off.
Lord Pickett groaned. “You bitch!”
“Lord Pickett, is that language really necessary? Besides, I haven’t even gotten to the fun bits yet. I just wanted to make sure you fully understand how serious this is.” Kyra sheathed her blade and took out a small pouch. She applied a dab of salve to the fresh wound. “This is a magical salve. It will heal your wounds, but it won’t do anything for the pain, and it can’t grow back missing body parts. Alas, your nipple is gone forever. The question is what other body parts will you lose.”
“What do you want?” asked Lord Pickett through gritted teeth.
Kyra looked down. Lord Pickett’s tiny cock was still standing at attention. The man truly did get off on pain. She pulled out her blade again and gently ran it up one side of his cock and then the other. She lifted his wrinkled sack and gave his balls a smack with the side of the blade. “I want the truth. I you lie, I am going to remove your balls one at a time, and then I’m going to cut an inch of your cock every time you lie. Which from the look of things doesn’t give us much room for error. You’ll need to tell the truth quickly if you want to have more than just a stub.”
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