FOURTEEN

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I’d come to expect that I would need to go into town and learn some things.

I hadn’t thought, though, that the very first time I did so, I would be going alone.

“Green cloaks will attract too much attention,” Elizabeth explained, “and even if her face might not be known at a glance, it’d be too great a risk for Rebecca to go. You don’t need to do anything too delicate, Edmond, just get us some cloaks. We’ll have to worry about the rest of the uniform ourselves.”

“Who should I say I’m with, if anyone asks?” I looked over my pistol, made sure the safety was in place, and tucked it into the holster under my cloak. “If the guards are trying to hide something, they may be suspicious of anyone they don’t know by sight.”

“Just some tradesfolk, fleeing the chaos in Nordport and seeking a quieter place to practise their arts. It’s why they’ve come out here,” she pointed out, “they ought to accept that. It’s been a long trek and our cloaks aren’t as new as they once were.”

It should have been such a simple thing. I’m not quite certain why my mind refused to let it be so. We had enough money among us that a half-dozen cloaks ought not to be a particular strain, though I myself worried that a merchant might charge dearly for someone he didn’t know. Still, that ought only make it more expensive, not out of reach entirely.

It was hoped that I’d only be in the little village of Bergen for a couple of hours if that, but planned that I might need a full day, if there was no tailor to be found who was still willing to do business so late in the evening. I had enough in my pack to look like a credible traveller – no tent, but enough tools and supplies that I’d belong among a small group of tradesfolk travelling the countryside. Only one thing remained, and for that I sought out Rebecca.

“Only one of these things is of great importance,” I said, lifting free the pouch that was hung around my neck. “But that one thing could truly be ill-used if it were taken for me. I must ask you to keep safe what you entrusted to me, for now.”

“Of course, Edmond,” she replied, taking hold of my cheeks and brushing her lips against mine before she accepted that pouch, slipping it around her own neck. “Come back soon, but above all come back safe.”

“Such is my aim,” I assured her, and then I struck out along the dusty road.

Bergen was situated in rocky country. It wasn’t a great farming village, but it was home to several herds of sheep, and wool was its life’s blood. A better place to find warm cloaks we wouldn’t find this side of the city of Wafret. Even if the cloaks we had were plenty warm, there was no reason that anyone here needed to know they weren’t so worn as to need replacement for that.

That wool was important enough to the duchy that there was a small guardhouse in the village, and the roads were watched by men- and women-at-arms. The man minding the road I followed was soft from easy living and good food, nothing like the fine trim kept by the Royal Army. He was also very thoroughly bored – and that was somewhat worrisome; such men as that could make a great deal of trouble, if they thought it would amuse them. And this one wasn’t inclined to merely wave me along my way.

“Hold up there, hoblet,” he growled, shifting his pike in a way that suggested blocking the road without actually needing so much effort to as holding the thing across it. “What brings one of your lot here so late at night?”

“Good Bergen wool brings me here, good sir,” I replied, dipping my head and pressing my ears back in deference. “It’s a long trek from the capital, and with all that’s going on there, we didn’t quite have time to notice that our cloaks were looking a bit worse for the wear.” Even if mine hadn’t done so prior to a bit of artful time with a briar bush on Jacob’s part; it was with some rue that I poked my finger through a rent in it, if perhaps not for quite the reason I was implying. “Before the snow comes down, we want to be sure we’re properly dressed for it, so I was sent to find a tailor.”

“Who’s ‘we?’ I only see the one of you here.” He was bored and curious, though, not suspicious; so far, so good.

“My companions are wood-folk, good sir. They didn’t wish to cause a fuss, all coming here and clamouring for space and food at the inn. They’ll bide outside of the village and away from the herds. I’m the least woodsy among them, so while they tend to the camp, I came to get us some proper cloaks.”

“’fraid you’re out of luck for the night. Old Shayla works with the daylight, you see, and won’t open her door once the sun goes down.”

Even without hearing the undercurrent of his thoughts, I could have told that he referred to the local tailor. “Very kind of you to spare me the asking, sir. Might you point me toward the inn? I’d rather call upon her as soon as she’s ready for the day.”

“You’re an odd sort to be travelling with woods-folk,” the man said with a frown, under which I sensed him thinking, You’re easier on the eyes than any of the women I could afford in Wafret, never mind the men. “What’s such as you doing leaving the city, anyway? Thought you’d have had a cushy lot there.” If you’re up to something fishy, maybe I could use that, keep my bed warm tonight.

That was most certainly not a thought I wanted to encourage. I wasn’t sure how to do so without being obvious about it. Covering my indecision with a shrug, I stalled with, “When there’s fighting in the streets, sir, I bleed just as easy as the next man. Easier than some, even. It’s not been a comfortable trek, but it sure as heaven beats maybe waking up with my home on fire.”

“Huh. Damn, guess you’ve got a point there.” He looked up at my right ear. “Still keeping to your, eh, trade? Nobody’s got her claws in you yet, I see, not quite.”

Inspiration struck. Perhaps I could turn a potential source of trouble into a bit of extra coin if I played along instead. “Well, I wasn’t intending to do so here,” I feigned hesitation in admitting. “More call for it in a bigger city, of course. But even there, I hadn’t expected the going to be easy. I knew I might have to… broaden my horizons somewhat.” Very deliberately, I looked him over. I already knew he had enough extra pounds to be seen through his cloak, but I had a good deal of practise in seeming interested in people, in spite of whatever physical shortcomings they might have. “And I can’t be so proud as to expect the sort of coin that only a high lady could come up with, not by far. Not anymore.” Yes, make it seem as though I’d been in high demand back in the capital, and he might be so much more willing to hand me a few coins if I didn’t ask for much… make it seem as though he was getting a fine deal…

“Huh.” The man shifted his hands on his pike. “Well, the Napping Ram offers its rooms for ten silver for the night. I’ve got a bit saved up, could get a room and still have twice that to put in your purse, eh? You get your bed and a little more besides, I don’t have to bunk down in the chilly old guardhouse, everybody wins.” He flashed a grin that, really, was quite endearing; he looked much better when he smiled.

Twenty silver and the bed I’d be sleeping on? So long as the food wasn’t horrendously expensive, that seemed a much better option than a risk that he’d buy my body with nothing more than his silence about my being there. “That seems generous of you, sir,” I said with an answering smile and a dip of my muzzle. “Should I wait for you in the common room, then?”

“Nah, tell ’em Karl’s going to be adding a room to his usual trencher and mug. They know me.” He freed one fleece-gloved hand to give a companionable punch to my shoulder. “Get your food in you while you can, Blue, ’cause I’ll have plenty to give you when I’m done my own meal.”

“I’d ask if I could get an early feel for it,” I purred in response, “but it wouldn’t be right to distract a guardsman. Good night to you, Karl, and I’ll be sure to have your bed nice and warm by the time you’re done your meal.” I gave him a little half-bow, and started to go on my way.

“Hold on,” he said, catching my shoulder. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Edmond,” I replied quite simply. It was a common enough name – I’d met two other courtesans who shared it, and that wasn’t even counting folk in other lines of work – and I feared I might not keep a lie straight.

“Edmond. Okay, Edmond. I’ll be along to eat up soon as the watch changes, so you’ve got til I’m done eating.” He let go, patting me on the shoulder a few times. “The Napping Ram is that big stone-and-timber pile over that way with the smoke from the chimney. Just follow your ears – and your nose.”

I bade him a pleasant and playful farewell that hardly needed to be feigned at all. Knowing that he’d have been willing to turn me in if I’d not lain with him put a damper on my enthusiasm, but once steered away from that course, he didn’t seem much worse than a random person off the street. No saint, but no devil either.

Mutton and garlic together drew me into the common room of the Napping Lamb. I drew eyes as I entered; I tried to look unremarkable and uninterested as I made my way toward the bar, and apparently it worked. At the very least, nobody accosted me until the barman had a chance to catch my shoulder.

Dropping Karl’s name was surprisingly helpful. The man asked if I’d come into Bergen for that purpose; when I explained that no, I’d be moving on the next day after getting the cloaks I needed, he said that anything which kept the guards happy was all right in his book, and gave me a generous helping of mutton for but a single silver half-crown.

The mutton was exquisite, so delicious that I felt a twinge of guilt for enjoying it while my companions were still up in the hills outside of town. Between us all, we’d become fairly good at making an excellent rabbit stew, but simply having the chance to try something different was welcome. Something that was not only different, but so expertly prepared, was as a gift from the heavens themselves; tender, succulent, moist, and utterly delicious, seasoned to perfection.

Still, I didn’t linger overmuch in my meal. I wanted to be quite, quite ready when my benefactor came calling. I didn’t know what he wanted out of the evening, but from what I’d read of him, I did have a few ideas that I wished to sort through before he arrived.

Once I was done my meal and had chased it down with a small mug of ale – the better to be relaxed and welcoming with this somewhat sketchy stranger – I asked if I could be shown to a room, and for Karl to be directed to it when he was ready. The lass who led me up the stairs looked to be growing into quite a comely young woman, fit and flexible; she’d have the eligible men scrambling for her when it came time to look for a partner, of that I had little doubt, and for now she could probably get the boys into a frenzy.

But I put her out of my mind once the door was shut behind me, and tried to focus my thoughts on Karl’s face. On the smile he’d given me as we parted, the smile that had made him look friendly and appealing.

Being in the room early gave me a chance to hide my pistol without being noticed; I wanted it close to hand if there was a need, but having it in his sight might send the wrong sort of message entirely. From my impression of him at the road, he’d want this to be straightforward and to the point. And he likely favoured women; most men did, after all, even if most men also learned to enjoy their bodies with other boys when they were young.

So I arranged myself on the bed unclad, with my clothes safely out of sight, the sheets twisted around me, not entirely covering my limbs and not quite managing to conceal the rising swell of my manhood, but at least blocking my flesh from direct sight. Let him see that I was male, by all means; I’d not want him to think I was anything but. But perhaps it could be a touch less… off-putting, if it wasn’t quite so blatant.

A bit of daydreaming kept my interest high – anticipating the sight of that smile again, the feel of his own member under his breeches, the sounds he might make as I drew it into the open. I schooled myself to a more gentle approach than my usual; he was not a woman on heat that needed firm attention to convince her body it had been bred. No, for this night, it might be best if I was more gentle. A different sort of service from my usual, but still one I greatly enjoyed when the opportunity arose.

Every time footsteps passed in the hall, I turned my attention to the door, but the steps kept passing by. The fourth time, though, the steps paused outside the door, two sets of them; there was a murmur of conversation, and then the lighter pair turned and went the other way. I took a breath, steeling myself.

And then the door opened.

It was him, most definitely, and that winning smile spread over his muzzle, the moment he saw me on the bed – not only the smile, but a brightness in his eyes, a lifting of his whiskers, his ears tilting slightly toward me. His gloves were tucked into his belt and his hood was back, but otherwise he was still garbed as I’d seen him, in the Duke’s colours of brown and green. He paused just inside the door, seeming entirely unsure of how to proceed; I lifted a lazy hand to beckon to him, and only then did he start to cross the floor, step by careful step, as though he feared that any motion too abrupt might dispel a dream.

This promised to be a pleasant night after all. He wasn’t used to such as I; this was something special for him, something rare, a treat such as he might not find again for years, if ever. I needed to put him at ease if I wanted the best I could get out of him, and if I wanted to feel in turn as though he’d got good value for his coin, his time, and, indeed, his silence.

The last might be hard to ensure if I did my job too well, but on that point, I wasn’t willing to do less than my best. A courtesan’s life is not one that leads to pride all that often; I wasn’t about to sacrifice what pride I did have in it.

I slid free of the blankets, delighting in the soft catch in his breath as I came into the open, as he saw how eager I was for him. I let my feet slide off the bed and find the floor, and from there I rose onto them, pressing up into an indulgent stretch, letting him see all of me, nose to tail. He was ever so slightly shorter than I was, but as he still had his boots on and I did not, now we were even; it was wonderfully easy to brush my lips against his, even as I brought my hands up to the brooch that fastened his cloak.

“So you came,” I murmured over his jaw, smiling and touching nose to nose. “I’m glad; the nights can get lonely sometimes, out here on the road.”

“Well, I’m… glad to show you some proper Bergen hospitality, then,” he whispered. Underneath was a twinge of guilt: And I considered saying ill about this?

“So you have,” I crooned, sliding my hands along his arms. His might be a quiet post, but moving his pike around all day had still given him a good heft to his upper body; there was more of that to be felt further in, too, as I undid his brooch at last and tugged his cloak out of the way. It didn’t show as much, but he was quite burly. “And I’ll show you all I’ve learned about my own brand of hospitality, that you can believe.”

He shivered, a soft whimper slipping past my cheek. He started to lift his hands; I touched his arm a moment to still him, and set to work freeing the buttons on his wool tunic. Once I’d got that off of him, and the sleeveless linen shirt beneath, then I was quite glad to let his arms slide around me, to press into his touch with a sensual rumble that I didn’t need to feign in the least.

The smell of his arousal was heavy on the air, and the feel of it seemed to pound in my own mind; it was no surprise at all when my fingers, reaching for his belt, brushed a firm ridge in his breeches. His eyes slid shut and his head tilted back a touch, an utterly delicious moan slipping over my ears.

By the time I had him stripped down, I half feared he was going to fall. I got him safely onto the bed without further delay; as I climbed back onto it, he stared wide-eyed down at me, panting softly, scarcely able to believe what I was seeing. From the fragments of memories churning through his mind, I gained the impression that the few times he had been able to pay for a whore, it had been the common sort; the sort that plied their trade on the streets, the sort with as much elegance as a sledgehammer. Good for a man who knew what he wanted and wanted it simple, but this… this was making him, a simple village guard, feel like a lord.

When my fingers brushed over his balls, he bit back a whimper, legs shifting apart, his toes curling by my legs. When my touch moved on up to his waiting staff, he moaned out loud, head sinking back against the sheets. The surge of tension gradually bled out of him, and when he lifted his head to watch as I nuzzled along his thigh, he also managed to lift one of his hands away from the bed, letting it rest atop my head.

I let it guide me down – first so that my tongue touched the crown of his manhood, then so that my lips embraced it, proceeding to draw him into my mouth.

I only gave him a few strokes with my lips and tongue before pulling off; it was far too early in the night to risk having him reach his peak quite yet. Instead, I let my attention wander about him – my hands gliding along his legs and his sides, my muzzle burying in against his chest and nuzzling around there. As I slid farther up, he gathered me in his arms; by the time my manhood came in contact with his, he had me in a needy embrace, his mouth seeking mine without the least bit of prompting on my part.

There was a certain ache of nostalgia to the whole thing; he touched me not unlike other boys had done when I was young, tentative but eager. His hand was a bit clumsy when it found my manhood, but I pushed into his grip all the same, shivering atop him with a growl of need.

I couldn’t keep his pleasure entirely at bay – he was far too sensitive for that; I could probably have brought him to his release with a firm embrace and some nibbling at his ears. Having my own manhood, my own undeniable arousal, so close to him only served to excite him so much faster. When he faltered such that I knew there was no turning back, I drew up and slightly away from him, sitting upright. I surrendered to my own urges, seizing my shaft and pumping along it, working myself to a quick, sharp pleasure that sent sticky white spattering his own bare skin.

And then, without giving myself even a moment to recover, I wrapped my hand around his length again, the slickness of my seed letting my fingers fly along his flesh even as I brought my muzzle a finger’s breadth from his crown. In the space of a few breaths he was arching up toward me, groaning out loud, and generous streamers of his seed were coursing over my tongue.

I swallowed every drop he had to offer me; while his pleasure was still suffusing him, I stroked his length with my tongue, cleaning up that which I’d put on him myself. He watched me do it with as much wonder as a child might watch a bird taking flight. When I was done, I lifted my head and smiled up at him, cradling his manhood as it softened against my fingers.

“Time well-spent?” I murmured.

“Sweet heavens, yes,” he gasped. “Forget the twenty, I just wouldn’t feel right giving you a crown less than thirty. I’d do more than that, but -”

“Hush, now,” I said with a chuckle, tapping a finger against his nose. “You need to eat, I know. I wouldn’t want to leave you penniless.” I slid up alongside him, nuzzling at the side of his neck. “Sleep well, Karl. We don’t need to worry about everyday things until morning.”

His mumbled reply wasn’t even coherent; within the space of two breaths, he was quietly dozing. Not too much longer, I slipped into slumber with him.

He was still asleep when I woke, and stirred only slightly when I slipped off the bed to dress. The sky outside was starting to lighten; I did indeed want to find the tailor as soon as I could. I made sure he was still facing away from me while I reclaimed my pistol; it was only after I’d tucked it away that I heard him turn over.

For a moment he smiled up at me, freeing a hand from the sheets to reach toward me; I reached out with mine in turn, clasping it. A few seconds passed like that, quietly enjoying one last moment of contact.

Then he looked over at the window, and let out a soft curse. “I’d better get dressed and down to the watch house, or the sergeant will string her laundry up on my guts.” He rolled out of the bed, fumbling among his clothes until he found his purse. He counted out five fat five-crown coins, digging for five more smaller coins before turning toward me. “Here; best thirty crowns I’ll ever spend. The barkeep can point you to Shayla’s, but I need to scramble.”

I helped him dress; it seemed only fair, after he’d overslept on my account. “Don’t let yourself get so wound up, hmmm?” I whispered in his ear as I tucked his cloak around his shoulders. “You’ve got a very nice smile; use it.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” he said, smiling, indeed, over his shoulder. “I paid for the room last night, so you should be all set. Safe journey, Edmond.”

“And safe days to you,” I called after him.

Once he was gone, I wasted no time tidying my own clothing, nor in getting directions from the barkeep. The old tailor woman drove a shrewd bargain, but a fair one; the half-dozen cloaks I carried out of there were as fine as anyone could ask for.

As I hiked past a still-somewhat-flushed Karl and up the road, I was feeling good. There had been room for this errand to go quite wrong, but all in all, things had progressed rather nicely.

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