Chapter IV: Jorie
"Now step back....no....like this..." Artemis took hold of her wrist and guided her movements until she stood in the proper position. "...Don't let the blade sag, Jorie..." He corrected her arm, irritation mounting in his voice.
"Artemis, it's too heavy for me." Jorie complained, her arm shaking as it tried to support the long saber.
"No it's not. You're just not strong enough for it."
Jorie threw the saber to the ground, the blade clanging in protest against the wooden planks of the floor. "You are a nasty prick of a man sometimes, do you know that?" In a flurry of apricot fabric she stormed stormed over to the single window in the room, the hem of her dress bouncing with each step. In an exaggerated gesture she pulled the red curtain slightly to the side, peering out at the street below. There she stood, restless, but silent.
The assassin stood unmoving, his eyes upon the discarded saber. "I didn't mean it to sound that way..."
"You never do." She retaliated sarcastically, not bothering to turn and face the approaching figure of the assassin.
Artemis came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, the soft velvet of her gown sending shivers up his spine as his skin touched it. Taking a deep breath he lay his head on her bare shoulder, burying his face in her soft hair. Salt. Sweat...not hers, nor his. He tightened his embrace. She smelled of the sea---of a hundred sailors dirty hands---their filthy bodies upon hers...
"Artemis..." She whispered faintly... "You're hurting me..."
"Come away with me."
"What?" She spun around to face him, a brow raised in quizzically.
He raised a hand to touch her lips. "Shh.....listen. Leave this place. Come with me...I'll talk with Basadoni...you can stay with me. I'll tea----...." He was cut off by her laughter; sweet and mocking.
"You would have me leave this prison for another?" She smiled, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "Artemis...What am I to you? You do not love me--you've said it yourself. You've told me time and again that I am nothing more to you than a distraction. You come here, you pay for your time like everyone else, and I do for you what I would do for any other client. Why, then, would you have me leave this place? To give up my trade and live in dependance and poverty---the broken mistress of Artemis Entreri?"
Artemis shook his head, his chest suddenly heavy, as if it took every ounce of strength within him to draw breath. "Jorie...I...."
"You what? You think you are the first pitiful bastard who has made me that offer? I see more men in a day than I can count on a hand, Artemis, and each one pays me more than I can count on two hands. I don't need your charity." With that she pushed past the stunned figure of the young man, the hem of her gown brushing the floor as she made her way to the door and opened it. "Your time is up."
* * * * *
Artemis Entreri leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes and submitting to the harsh scrub Dwhavel was imposing upon his face...The warm water of the tub--formerly a horses water trough--relaxed his muscles and did wonders to calm his nerves, so uncharacteristically on end these days.
"I swear...all this stubble...When did you start shaving...? Nevermind..." The halfling dunked the washcloth into the warm soapy water and slathered it over Entreri's chest, scrubbing his neck and shoulders. "So Dondon tells me the Basadoni guild is planning to assassinate a few of the higher ranking officials within the New Temple. I'm surprised Derrick hasn't passed the task on to you..." Dwhavel waited knowingly for the assassin's reply.
"He tried. I didn't give him the chance."
"What do you think he'll do?" The crafty halfling pried.
"Higher."
"Hire who?" Dwhavel asked, entranced...she had not considered that Derrick would attempt to hire an outside assassin to pull that job...
"No...higher...right here...by my shoulder..." Entreri could not help but smile as Dwhavel grumbled beneath her breath and obliged him, the warm washcloth massaging his tense muscles. "He'll wait for me."
"You're certain?" She asked, more than a little skeptical of the young man's claim; although she agreed that it would be the wisest choice of action for Derrick.
"He hates me, but knows I'm the only one reliable enough to do it."
"What about Lucas?"
"Lucas could make the kills, but he'd never be able to infiltrate the place. He's got no tact for inconspicuousness. Derrick knows that. He'll delay the plans until I return..." Entreri sank down into the water, submerging his head--and with it his touseled hair. When he came up for air and wiped the water and soap from his eyes he was met by Dwhavel's small hands. The halfling smoothed his hair from his face and hoisted a small pithos of fresh water, dumping it over his head to rinse the soap away.
"And will Artemis Entreri return to serve Basadoni?" She asked as she watched the young man stand---water dripping from his well muscled body, the form lithe, agile, and entirely too naked....Dwhavel grudgingly handed him a towel.
Artemis dried himself hurriedly before wrapping the soft towel around his waist. "I serve no one...but yes...I'll go back to the guild. Eventually. I just need some time to focus...I can't even begin to search for her with Derrick constantly on my case about my assignments."
Dwhavel sighed softly as she dumped Entreri's dirty clothes into the bath tub--which would now serve as a wash tub. "Artemis...have you considered the possibility that she doesn't want to be found?" From the look on the young man's face it was obvious that he had not. Dwhavel was a strong willed woman, and had gotten so far in such a hard world by keeping her wits about her...but she could not deny that her heart broke for the young man. "Artemis..." She paused...weighing the rammifications of what she was about to say. "Do you know why she left?"
"Yes."
Dwhavel blinked...she had not expected Entreri to be aware of the woman's condition---and she had certainly not expected him to take it so lightly.
"She was ill. She was having trouble keeping up with her demands..." Entreri shook his head, droplets of water were sent flying everywhere from his soaked hair.
The halfling wrinkled her nose, wiping the droplets from her face. Perhaps he didn't know. It was probably for the better that it stayed that way. "Go put some clothes on lest I mistake you for an exhibitionist..." She mocked disgust...
Artemis smirked and dropped his towel before running up the stairs to the living quarters of the building. Dwhavel could only shake her head, grinning ear to ear.
* * * * *
The night was still and calm...the rains gone for the time being. Jorie sat huddled between the remains of a broken wagon and the wall of an old sandstone building. The structure was uninhabited--its roof long caven in...but still it provided enough shelter for the time being....more shelter than Jorie could afford to buy elsewhere in the city. Penniless. Not a coin to her name. She had never been wealthy...had never dreamed of having enough money to buy her own home or open her own shop...but she had always had enough to get by. When one's primary ware was one's own body, the supply never ran out...that is, until the ware was damaged. She sniffled, wiping another stray tear from her cheek. When the head Madame at The Red Harem had found out she had stripped Jorie of everything save for the clothes on her back. She had been cast out into the streets...Every Inn in the city had been warned by the guild that owned The Red Harem that should they shelter her for even one night they would be shut down. That left her here---cold...hungry...afraid...and very alone. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and lying her head upon them. Weeks. It had been like this for weeks....she dined with street urchins and slept upon a pillow of sand. Closing her eyes, the woman took her mind to another time...a time when she had slept in a warm bed beside a warm body. She bit back a sob, wiping at her eyes, one of them swelled and bruised from a recent encounter with a would-be customer. She had turned a few beds since being thrown out of The Red Harem, but it had become more and more difficult. Although the clientel at The Red Harem was far from high calibre, they at least paid up front. It was the reason most prostitutes paid dues to a brothel...to work freelance meant to work for free in a city like Calimport. She drew in a quick breath, her eyes wide as she felt her whole body tense at the sound...boots clicking upon the street....voices low...the echoes filling the alley where she sat.
"Naw, it ain't dead..."
"Yes 'tis. C'mon...let's go...."
Jorie hardly breathed. She waited several moments for the men to leave before emerging from her makeshift shelter. Padding with every ounce of stealth her body could muster, she approached the object in question....the body of a small boy shoved beneath a saddle-blanket lie unmoving on the corner where the alley met the street. Jorie turned to leave...but stopped as she heard a faint, childlike moan. She hurried toward the body and pulled the saddle-blanket away, surpised to see not a child, but a halfling. "Oh, gods..." She reached to touch the halfling's head, buried face down in the sand...she withdrew her hand as she felt the wet sticky substance, shining black in the moonlight upon her fingers.
The halfling stirred, trying to push himself up. Jorie placed her arms around the struggling body and lifted, backing away quickly as the halfling got his footing. Swaying woozily, the halfling rubbed his forehead... "What a night..."
"Are you allright?" Jorie asked, taking a step toward the diminutive man.
"No...but I will be. Just got to get some food in my belly..."
Jorie said nothing, her confusion asking all the questions for her.
"Just a little tiff with the boss...that's all. Happens from time to time, you know....or perhaps you don't. What's your name?"
"Jorie..."
The halfling extended his hand, a wide smile on his jovial face. "My name's Regis."
"Now step back....no....like this..." Artemis took hold of her wrist and guided her movements until she stood in the proper position. "...Don't let the blade sag, Jorie..." He corrected her arm, irritation mounting in his voice.
"Artemis, it's too heavy for me." Jorie complained, her arm shaking as it tried to support the long saber.
"No it's not. You're just not strong enough for it."
Jorie threw the saber to the ground, the blade clanging in protest against the wooden planks of the floor. "You are a nasty prick of a man sometimes, do you know that?" In a flurry of apricot fabric she stormed stormed over to the single window in the room, the hem of her dress bouncing with each step. In an exaggerated gesture she pulled the red curtain slightly to the side, peering out at the street below. There she stood, restless, but silent.
The assassin stood unmoving, his eyes upon the discarded saber. "I didn't mean it to sound that way..."
"You never do." She retaliated sarcastically, not bothering to turn and face the approaching figure of the assassin.
Artemis came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, the soft velvet of her gown sending shivers up his spine as his skin touched it. Taking a deep breath he lay his head on her bare shoulder, burying his face in her soft hair. Salt. Sweat...not hers, nor his. He tightened his embrace. She smelled of the sea---of a hundred sailors dirty hands---their filthy bodies upon hers...
"Artemis..." She whispered faintly... "You're hurting me..."
"Come away with me."
"What?" She spun around to face him, a brow raised in quizzically.
He raised a hand to touch her lips. "Shh.....listen. Leave this place. Come with me...I'll talk with Basadoni...you can stay with me. I'll tea----...." He was cut off by her laughter; sweet and mocking.
"You would have me leave this prison for another?" She smiled, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "Artemis...What am I to you? You do not love me--you've said it yourself. You've told me time and again that I am nothing more to you than a distraction. You come here, you pay for your time like everyone else, and I do for you what I would do for any other client. Why, then, would you have me leave this place? To give up my trade and live in dependance and poverty---the broken mistress of Artemis Entreri?"
Artemis shook his head, his chest suddenly heavy, as if it took every ounce of strength within him to draw breath. "Jorie...I...."
"You what? You think you are the first pitiful bastard who has made me that offer? I see more men in a day than I can count on a hand, Artemis, and each one pays me more than I can count on two hands. I don't need your charity." With that she pushed past the stunned figure of the young man, the hem of her gown brushing the floor as she made her way to the door and opened it. "Your time is up."
* * * * *
Artemis Entreri leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes and submitting to the harsh scrub Dwhavel was imposing upon his face...The warm water of the tub--formerly a horses water trough--relaxed his muscles and did wonders to calm his nerves, so uncharacteristically on end these days.
"I swear...all this stubble...When did you start shaving...? Nevermind..." The halfling dunked the washcloth into the warm soapy water and slathered it over Entreri's chest, scrubbing his neck and shoulders. "So Dondon tells me the Basadoni guild is planning to assassinate a few of the higher ranking officials within the New Temple. I'm surprised Derrick hasn't passed the task on to you..." Dwhavel waited knowingly for the assassin's reply.
"He tried. I didn't give him the chance."
"What do you think he'll do?" The crafty halfling pried.
"Higher."
"Hire who?" Dwhavel asked, entranced...she had not considered that Derrick would attempt to hire an outside assassin to pull that job...
"No...higher...right here...by my shoulder..." Entreri could not help but smile as Dwhavel grumbled beneath her breath and obliged him, the warm washcloth massaging his tense muscles. "He'll wait for me."
"You're certain?" She asked, more than a little skeptical of the young man's claim; although she agreed that it would be the wisest choice of action for Derrick.
"He hates me, but knows I'm the only one reliable enough to do it."
"What about Lucas?"
"Lucas could make the kills, but he'd never be able to infiltrate the place. He's got no tact for inconspicuousness. Derrick knows that. He'll delay the plans until I return..." Entreri sank down into the water, submerging his head--and with it his touseled hair. When he came up for air and wiped the water and soap from his eyes he was met by Dwhavel's small hands. The halfling smoothed his hair from his face and hoisted a small pithos of fresh water, dumping it over his head to rinse the soap away.
"And will Artemis Entreri return to serve Basadoni?" She asked as she watched the young man stand---water dripping from his well muscled body, the form lithe, agile, and entirely too naked....Dwhavel grudgingly handed him a towel.
Artemis dried himself hurriedly before wrapping the soft towel around his waist. "I serve no one...but yes...I'll go back to the guild. Eventually. I just need some time to focus...I can't even begin to search for her with Derrick constantly on my case about my assignments."
Dwhavel sighed softly as she dumped Entreri's dirty clothes into the bath tub--which would now serve as a wash tub. "Artemis...have you considered the possibility that she doesn't want to be found?" From the look on the young man's face it was obvious that he had not. Dwhavel was a strong willed woman, and had gotten so far in such a hard world by keeping her wits about her...but she could not deny that her heart broke for the young man. "Artemis..." She paused...weighing the rammifications of what she was about to say. "Do you know why she left?"
"Yes."
Dwhavel blinked...she had not expected Entreri to be aware of the woman's condition---and she had certainly not expected him to take it so lightly.
"She was ill. She was having trouble keeping up with her demands..." Entreri shook his head, droplets of water were sent flying everywhere from his soaked hair.
The halfling wrinkled her nose, wiping the droplets from her face. Perhaps he didn't know. It was probably for the better that it stayed that way. "Go put some clothes on lest I mistake you for an exhibitionist..." She mocked disgust...
Artemis smirked and dropped his towel before running up the stairs to the living quarters of the building. Dwhavel could only shake her head, grinning ear to ear.
* * * * *
The night was still and calm...the rains gone for the time being. Jorie sat huddled between the remains of a broken wagon and the wall of an old sandstone building. The structure was uninhabited--its roof long caven in...but still it provided enough shelter for the time being....more shelter than Jorie could afford to buy elsewhere in the city. Penniless. Not a coin to her name. She had never been wealthy...had never dreamed of having enough money to buy her own home or open her own shop...but she had always had enough to get by. When one's primary ware was one's own body, the supply never ran out...that is, until the ware was damaged. She sniffled, wiping another stray tear from her cheek. When the head Madame at The Red Harem had found out she had stripped Jorie of everything save for the clothes on her back. She had been cast out into the streets...Every Inn in the city had been warned by the guild that owned The Red Harem that should they shelter her for even one night they would be shut down. That left her here---cold...hungry...afraid...and very alone. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and lying her head upon them. Weeks. It had been like this for weeks....she dined with street urchins and slept upon a pillow of sand. Closing her eyes, the woman took her mind to another time...a time when she had slept in a warm bed beside a warm body. She bit back a sob, wiping at her eyes, one of them swelled and bruised from a recent encounter with a would-be customer. She had turned a few beds since being thrown out of The Red Harem, but it had become more and more difficult. Although the clientel at The Red Harem was far from high calibre, they at least paid up front. It was the reason most prostitutes paid dues to a brothel...to work freelance meant to work for free in a city like Calimport. She drew in a quick breath, her eyes wide as she felt her whole body tense at the sound...boots clicking upon the street....voices low...the echoes filling the alley where she sat.
"Naw, it ain't dead..."
"Yes 'tis. C'mon...let's go...."
Jorie hardly breathed. She waited several moments for the men to leave before emerging from her makeshift shelter. Padding with every ounce of stealth her body could muster, she approached the object in question....the body of a small boy shoved beneath a saddle-blanket lie unmoving on the corner where the alley met the street. Jorie turned to leave...but stopped as she heard a faint, childlike moan. She hurried toward the body and pulled the saddle-blanket away, surpised to see not a child, but a halfling. "Oh, gods..." She reached to touch the halfling's head, buried face down in the sand...she withdrew her hand as she felt the wet sticky substance, shining black in the moonlight upon her fingers.
The halfling stirred, trying to push himself up. Jorie placed her arms around the struggling body and lifted, backing away quickly as the halfling got his footing. Swaying woozily, the halfling rubbed his forehead... "What a night..."
"Are you allright?" Jorie asked, taking a step toward the diminutive man.
"No...but I will be. Just got to get some food in my belly..."
Jorie said nothing, her confusion asking all the questions for her.
"Just a little tiff with the boss...that's all. Happens from time to time, you know....or perhaps you don't. What's your name?"
"Jorie..."
The halfling extended his hand, a wide smile on his jovial face. "My name's Regis."