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

“Water,” repeated the barkeeper, shaking his head and grimacing. “Two ales and one water, coming up.”

Sorak glanced up at the stage behind the bar. The woman dancing there wore nothing save a skimpy girdle that consisted of a thong and a piece of cloth no bigger than an eye patch. Her long red hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing a large and perfectly shaped pair of breasts. She came down a short flight of wooden steps leading to the bar from the stage, moving slowly and swaying her hips.

She stepped down onto the surface of the bar and the patrons hurriedly moved their drinks to give her room. As they held out their coins, she knelt on the bartop before them, with her back to them. Most of the customers were apparently well familiar with her routine. They placed the coins between their teeth as she bent over backward, leaning back so that her face was just below theirs, then they bent their heads down so that she could take the coin from them in her own teeth. As the exchange was made, their lips barely brushed hers, then she straightened, turned around, and gently caressed each man on the cheek or ran her ringers through his hair. She would finish by looking at each man suggestively as she briefly slipped the coin inside her girdle, then dropped it into her purse before moving on.

One customer became a bit carried away and spat the coin out before she could take it from him, then crushed his mouth to hers. Instantly, two large and muscular bouncers appeared behind him and carried him away as the others cheered and shouted.

“This is what men like?” Ryana asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Some men, apparently,” said Sorak.

“Not you?” she asked.

“I would never put money in my mouth,” he said.

“Yes, one has no way of knowing where it’s been,” Ryana replied dryly.

The barkeeper brought them their drinks and then the dancer moved in front of Sorak. She stood over him atop the bar, swaying her hips in time to the music, and slowly came down to her knees before him, facing him. Sorak looked up into her eyes. She smiled, parted her lips, and ran her tongue around them. He shook his head slightly and placed a coin down on the bar. She raised her eyebrows, then glanced briefly at Ryana. She mouthed a kiss at her, glanced briefly back at Sorak, picked up the coin, dropped it in her purse, and moved on.

“I think she likes you,” Tajik said with a grin.

“I think she likes his money,” Ryana replied.

“I wasn’t speaking to him” said Tajik with a slightly mocking smile.

Ryana cleared her throat uncomfortably. “I thought we came here to find out some information.”

“I thought you came because you were curious to see a pleasure house,” said Sorak, keeping a perfectly straight face.

“Well, now I’ve seen it,” she said.

“Oh, you haven’t seen the best part yet,” said Tajik. “You haven’t seen the star attraction.”

“I can hardly wait,” Ryana said with a grimace.

The music stopped, and the dancers left the stage, then a red-haired dwarf stepped up in front of the musicians as everybody clapped and shouted. Raising his voice above the din, the dwarf called out, “Are you ready for more?”

There was a resounding chorus of assent.

“Well, more you shall have!” the dwarf shouted. “Remember, the girls dance for your enjoyment, and for your tips, so please be generous! They all have sick old mothers to care for!”

There was laughter and shouting, then the dwarf raised his hands for silence, which he didn’t get. “Don’t forget,” he shouted over the noise, “you can ask your favorite girl for an exclusive, private dance, and she will be happy to oblige! They are all very obliging!”

There was more laughter and the dwarf signaled the musicians. They started a new song, which sounded much like the previous one, and a fresh shift of dancers took the stages.

Tajik saw someone that he knew and waved him over. A mercenary joined them at the bar and greeted Tajik with a hearty back slap that made the ferry captain’s teeth rattle.

“Tajik, you old scoundrel! Why aren’t you home counting your money?”

“Because I’m here, buying you a drink,” Tajik replied.

The mercenary threw an arm around his shoulder. “That’s the kind of talk I like to hear! Barkeeper! Ale!”

The barkeeper set a drink in front of the mercenary, and Tajik paid.

“I hear you had some trouble earlier this evening,” said the mercenary.

“Yes, an encounter with some giants,” Tajik said. “It was close. They almost sank me this time.”