The Broken Blade (Dark Sun: Chronicles of Athas 3)

“Quite understandable,” said Tajik, nodding. “Well, I know where we can probably find out. If he has been recruited for such a post, he must have a reputation. His fellow mercenaries would know, and since most of them have just been paid, I know where we can find a good sampling to ask. But perhaps we should escort Ryana back to my home first.”

“Why?” Ryana asked, puzzled.

“Because the Desert Damsel is not the sort of place to take a priestess,” Tajik replied.

“And why is that?” she asked again.

Tajik cleared his throat. “Well… the Damsel is a pleasure house, the most popular attraction in South Ledopolus, where women dance and, uh, artfully remove clothing. One can go there simply for the show, but there are also rooms upstairs where, for a price, one can enjoy a, uh, ‘private dance,’ if you get my meaning.”

“How very interesting,” Ryana said. “I would like to see it.”

Tajik looked scandalized. “You would?”

“Yes, very much. Can we go there after dinner?”

Tajik swallowed hard. “I… uh… really do not think it is a proper place for a lady like yourself.”

“Why not?” Ryana asked.

Tajik glanced at Sorak, helplessly.

“Don’t look at me,” said Sorak. “Ryana makes her own decisions.”

“I have never seen a pleasure house,” Ryana said. “I’m curious to know what it is like.”

“It is much like any other place where mercenaries drink, only much more so,” Tajik said. “I don’t think you would enjoy it much.”

“I should like the opportunity to judge that for myself,” Ryana said.

Tajik sighed with resignation. “Well, if you insist…”

* * *

“It is a rather rowdy crowd tonight,” said Edric as he came into the dressing room, rubbing his temple where a thrown bottle had struck him. It had shattered and cut the skin, and a thin trickle of blood ran down the side of his face. The spot was already swelling, and there would be a nasty bruise.

Cricket was up out of her chair at once. “Here, let me see,” she said.

“It’s of no consequence,” said Edric. “This is my last night.”

Cricket moistened a clean cloth and gently washed the cut. “Those brutes,” she said vehemently.

Edric winced as she cleaned the cut. “Well, they did not come to hear my ballads. I do not know why Turin even bothered hiring me.”

“To build up their anticipation,” Cricket said. “He likes a dull act to open the show.” And then she realized what she had said and bit her lower lip. “Forgive me. That came out wrong. I did not mean that I found you dull myself.”

Edric chuckled. “No, I understand. The pleasure of your company has been the only thing that has made this engagemen

t bearable. And you have been a most appreciative audience, for which I thank you.”

“I cannot wait to leave this place,” said Cricket. “I’ve booked passage on the caravan. I only wish it would leave tonight.”

“Tomorrow will be soon enough,” said Edric. “Turin still does not suspect your plans?”

“I do not think so,” Cricket said. “If he does, he’s shown no indication of it. Still, I would not put it past him to attempt something to make me stay.”

“What could he do?”

“Hire some mercenaries to detain me while the caravan departs,” she said. “He probably wouldn’t even have to pay them. He would merely offer them inducements.”