Chapter 28
Confrontation
After a discussion about how to structure their time off, Jarlaxle and Entreri agreed that Jarlaxle should spend more time outside of the inn enjoying himself in Sheirtalar, and Entreri could spend more time in their room. Jarlaxle wasn't afraid of venturing through the city alone; he would depend as usual on his charm and his ability to fight. And the assassin needed to recover from being overexposed. Playing an extroverted, polite character drained Entreri's energy.
Truth be told, in a strange way Jarlaxle found himself being drained by constantly putting on the persona of Zaknafein.
Two days after making the decision to spend their days as they both wished, Jarlaxle already felt much better. He was careful not to seem too uncharacteristic of the drow, but he quickly perfected a 'scowling curiosity' mode that allowed him to ask as many questions as he wished and mingle as he liked.
That afternoon, he'd wandered through as many small markets as he could find, lunching on a meaty sandwich called a gyro in one and trying a peculiar fruit called a pomegranate in another. Pomegranates proved to be full of berry-like sections best sucked out with a golden straw. Coin being no object, Jarlaxle purchased a golden straw and daintily devoured three pomegranates while sitting on a stone bench overlooking the sea. On his way back, he bought four more of the unusual fruits to share with Artemis.
He was in no particular hurry to return to the inn, but he headed that way, winding through side streets and sightseeing as he went. When he neared the inn, Jarlaxle found to his surprise and amusement he'd ended up on the street below the inn, cut into the cliff side. He could see the window of their room where it looked out on the cliff road and the sea beyond.
The cliff road had its own inns and houses, and narrow alleys between shaded over by the buildings on the road above. There was such an air of peace that Jarlaxle was surprised at the sound of a sharp whistle.
He turned his head towards the sound.
From the opposite direction, a stone whistled at his head. He ducked, but the stone struck his hat and knocked it off.
At the same instant, he was tackled. Time momentarily froze; Jarlaxle's first instinct was to fight, but a typical drow, suddenly blinded by the sun, should not be able to. He could break cover and immediately escape, or take false time to recover. Jarlaxle refrained from ruining his and Artemis' true mission.
His bag of pomegranates fell to the street. One of the fruits rolled out. A foot kicked it away.
Jarlaxle, pretending to be blind, squinted and looked around wildly, taking in his attackers. All three of them were men who worked as guards for Vakadi.
The two men holding him, one on each arm, had never so much as spoken a word to him.
However, the man who had kicked the pomegranate was the same who had taunted Jarlaxle two days ago at the corner cafe. He turned from watching the pomegranate splash into the glittering sea.
Jarlaxle quickly put on a scowl and forced his eyes to water. "You."
The man closed the gap between them, hot breath in Jarlaxle's face. "Don't act so surprised. I warned you." Then he took Jarlaxle's chin firmly. "Bite me and you're a dead man."
Jarlaxle froze in shock. What?
The man kissed him with blunt force, prying his mouth open. Jarlaxle tasted spices.
When he pulled away, Jarlaxle gagged. "You're filthy."
All three men laughed.
Jarlaxle had never expected something like this. He'd expected human men to act like those of the north Sword Coast: uncomfortable at even a hint of homosexuality. His chest was hot and tight, and he felt the strength in his arms. Right now, he could throw his captors off and riddle them with daggers before they had time to think.
"Grab his ears," the man behind Jarlaxle on the left suggested.
Jarlaxle was instantly cold inside. His thoughts uncharacteristically sputtered.
"Grab his what?" the man behind Jarlaxle on the right asked.
Jarlaxle heard the sneer in the response. "I grabbed an elf maid's once when she wouldn't behave. That turned her into a proper sow. Learned a handy little trick, I did."
The flash of rage that jolted through Jarlaxle blinded him for real.
And blade erupted from the man' chest, right through his heart. "More like a handly little death wish," a cold, flat voice intoned.
The man's eyes bulged, blood immediately soaking through his clothes. Then, with a brutal jerk, the blade retreated and the man toppled to the ground. Artemis Entreri glared at the remaining two men.
Jarlaxle lashed out, slicing the other man who'd restrained him in half. He whipped his blade around, splashing blood in the ring leader's eyes, and then lunged, impaling the man through the neck before he had time to draw his sword.
The man gurgled and jerked as blood sprayed from his throat.
Jarlaxle yanked his blade out, and the man fell to the ground, onto his knees and then onto his side, curling up as he toppled.
As usual, death did nothing to make Jarlaxle feel better. His face ached with the unaccustomed snarl that had manifested itself while he fought.
Suddenly, his vision expanded. He'd had tunnel vision without realizing it. Jarlaxle saw with sudden clarity the three dead bodies, mutilated and bleeding, and the red dripping from his sword. The sunny day was marred.
Well, everyone knows you're drow now. Not a tame little pet to some Calishite. The thought popped up unbidden, confusing and startling him.
"I don't care to speak with the city guard," Entreri said, "especially given they will have no sympathy for a drow. Let's go." He slung the blood off his blade and sheathed it.
Jarlaxle wiped his blade on a clean patch of the cloak the nearest body wore and slid his sword back into his sheath. Then he turned and followed Entreri back to the inn. He didn't even realize Artemis had picked up his bag of pomegranates until the assassin shifted them in order to unlock the door. His partner had jumped out of the window; it was still open, the breeze making the curtains ripple.
Entreri deposited the bag on the corner table and turned to face Jarlaxle. He looked him over, as though assessing him for damage. "Perhaps you take your act too far. Jarlaxle wouldn't be grabbed." Despite the words, his tone wasn't critical.
Grabbed. That sparked a flash of the ambush. A rock flying. His hat falling. My hat! Jarlaxle gave a start. "I left my hat -" The rest of the sentence died as he reached up and felt his fingers knock against the brim of his hat. He was wearing it.
He sank down onto the nearest surface, barely recognizing that it was a chest. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember picking his hat up off the street and putting it back on. How could I not know?
Entreri watched him for a moment, then joined him on the chest. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.
Jarlaxle finally noticed he was numb. He paused uncertainly, then shook his head. I don't believe I am.
Entreri visibly shifted demeanor, apparently calling upon his inner self, and wrapped his arm around Jarlaxle's waist, hugging him to his side. "What has you unsettled?"
Jarlaxle gave Artemis a smile, grateful for the warmth. It helped him feel his own body somehow. "I never expected them to do that. I was threatened the day that I went to Shou Town and bought those exotic clothes, but I thought nothing of it. It was too vague and I did not fear the man. Then this happened. I expected to be bullied, to be told to leave Sheirtalar, that they might try to injure or kill me..." He shook his head. "Not this."
He leaned against Artemis. "Then you came out of nowhere, from behind, and I did not expect that either. I had noticed the street faced our window, but when he kissed me, I was shocked into forgetting." His mouth suddenly burned. "Do we have mouthwash?"
Entreri paused, considering the generally sexual nature of the assault. He supposed he could see why Jarlaxle would be knocked off-balance, even though the men didn't get very far. "Calishites sometimes use an herbal mix, especially after eating dishes loaded with onions and garlic." He released Jarlaxle and stood, going to his supplies. "I have a bit left." He turned and held up a small pouch that contained dried herbs. "You'll need a glass of water to mix it in."
Jarlaxle stood and walked to the dresser near their door. The innkeeper's wife left a pitcher of drinking water and glasses there every day as a courtesy. He filled a glass and brought it over to Artemis.
Entreri shook in the appropriate amount. "There. Mix it well, then swish it in your mouth for a solid minute."
Jarlaxle swirled the glass, watching the herbal solution mix. Then he took a swig and set to violently swishing. The herbs created a soothingly fresh and cooling taste. When the minute was up, he walked to the bathroom and spat in the sink. He turned on the tap and washed the herbal rinse down the drain, then splashed his face. Jarlaxle instantly felt better.
The bastard. He felt a flicker of anger and tightened his grip on the water glass. The anger was reassuring. it helped burn off his numbness. He walked the glass back to its place beside the pitcher and set it down. When he turned to Artemis, his expression was composed. "We'll have to tell Theros."
Entreri understood immediately. "Yes, Theros will wonder what happened to his men, and no doubt a witness will report that a drow was involved in their deaths. Better that it comes from us."
Jarlaxle nodded. "As much as it benefits us to weaken his forces, we have to look innocent. We should take advantage of these extenuating circumstances."
"Definitely." Entreri's brow furrowed. "Why did they do it? Just anti-drow?"
Jarlaxle shrugged. "I don't know." After a moment's reflection, he added dryly, "They didn't tell me."
Entreri shrugged and led the way out. From his point of view, bastards were often bastards just for the hells of it.
Jarlaxle was startled, though he had the wits to follow his partner. "We're going right now?"
"The longer we wait, the more likely Theros is to get the news from someone else."
Jarlaxle realized that was true. He nodded. "Confessing promptly also makes us look virtuous."
"But of course," Entreri drawled.
When they reached the road leading to the front gates of Vakadi's estate, Jarlaxle saw a crowd. For a split second, he was bewildered. Then the similarity to something he'd already seen registered. Theros was holding tryouts. He still hadn't replaced all the men they'd been forced to kill in the miniature mutiny.
"Our news is hardly going to be appreciated," Jarlaxle murmured.
Entreri snorted. "Clearly not. Still, they were scum, and I don't believe Theros likes scum."
"Perhaps our entrance will also serve as an excuse for Theros to take a break," Jarlaxle suggested. "If he's doing today what he was doing when we were hired, he's likely been at this since morning." It was five o'clock at this point.
"No doubt." Entreri paused as the gate guards acknowledged them, then swept in, earning a few disgruntled looks from the waiting contestants. Sure enough, Theros was standing in the courtyard by the garden, watching a fight. The hopeful in question was clearly sub par.
"We could put them out of your misery," Jarlaxle called, grinning.
Theros turned, surprised, and then grinned in return. "No, thank you, Master Nafein." He bowed. "Khoya Qasim. Good afternoon. What brings you here? You've already got the job, so I know it can't be to go through all this again."
He turned and held up a hand. "Enough."
The contestant slumped, covered in sweat.
"You're a maybe," Theros said. He pointed. "Follow that man to the west garden."
The contestant nodded and trudged towards the waiting guard without comment.
"A maybe?" Jarlaxle frowned.
"He's better than the last thirty," Theros said darkly. Then he shook his head. "What brings you?"
Jarlaxle glanced at Entreri.
"Nafein was assaulted in town this afternoon by three men," Entreri said. "The assault was disturbingly...sexual...in nature and was turning violent by the time I arrived. We killed them, but we dodged the town guard, assuming Nafein would be blamed although he was the victim." He paused, waiting to supply the final piece.
Jarlaxle looked away, not having to feign his anger and humiliation. He hadn't been certain how much Artemis was going to share, but given Theros' response to the female assassin being threatened, it made sense to play the situation for everything it was worth.
Theros' expression darkened, and every muscle in his body seemed to go stiff. "I'll settle it with the Sheirtalar guards if it comes to that."
Entreri sketched a bow. "Our thanks. However, there is one final issue: all three men were our fellow guards." He glanced out at the line. "In the sense you now have to replace them, you have our apology."
Theros uttered a laugh and looked at the sky, his expression both weary and amused.
Jarlaxle was relieved. Though the captain hardly relished the news, at least no blame had attached to them. Theros no doubt cursed his luck, but he didn't curse the messengers.
"If Lord Vakadi hadn't shown interest in being one of the only men in the city to employ a drow, I'd expect him to be aggravated," Theros said. He gave them a wry smile. "As it stands, Master Nafein's ability to intimidate people is worth more to Vakadi than the potential for trouble."
"How do you know that?" Jarlaxle asked, putting on a wary front.
Theros looked towards the palace. "He told me so. I suspected a few fights would break out when I hired you. I gave Lord Vakadi the chance to veto my decision. He didn't."
"That's fortunate," Entreri said, although he didn't specify which part on purpose. "I realize a strong arm is not always attached to a good person, but let us hope no more would-be rapists get into the ranks."
Theros' mood changed at that. His eyes grew just as cold as Jarlaxle had ever seen Artemis'. "I'll take them back out. Any man proven to be capable of rape will die like a dog."
Jarlaxle was sure all over again that Theros had some personal experience fueling his morals.
Entreri's curiosity was peaked, but he said nothing on that count. "As it should be."
Theros nodded sharply. "You're damn right." He drew a breath, about to add something on the heels of that statement. One of the men waiting for the next round of contestants shifted. Theros caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and deliberately relaxed, smiling. "Well, let's hope that after these events, certain kinds know better than to pass through these gates." He made a hand signal and called, "Let the next ones in. Seven this time. We've got more openings."
Jarlaxle was disappointed that Theros had closed up again, but he didn't show it. "We'll let you get on with things."
"Yes. Until later, Dominus Theros." Entreri sketched another bow, keeping up his super-polite act.
Theros bowed in return.
Jarlaxle swaggered away, deliberately putting on a show of arrogance for the waiting contestants. It wouldn't do to look soft in front of all these strangers.
Entreri followed, enacting no mask other than his typical ones. He had long had a reputation of being scary-looking without trying, so he didn't even think about it.
Jarlaxle relaxed as soon as they were winding their way back to the inn through side streets. "That went as well as could be expected," he murmured. "I wasn't certain of what you would disclose."
"Enough to get Theros' sympathy," Entreri said. He glanced at Jarlaxle. "I assumed you would agree. Am I wrong?"
Jarlaxle shook his head. "You're not wrong. It was the most advantageous to us to ignite Theros' moral judgment against the guards who attacked me." He paused, and added, "It settles on me strangely for Theros to imagine me in that light. I wonder...I have no knowledge of how human males think of each other. Will he see me differently from now on? Now that he knows I can be made vulnerable that way?"
He shrugged. "Drow take it as a matter of course that anyone can become a victim at any moment. Strength can vanish, momentarily desert one. It means nothing."
Entreri frowned, bothered by similar questions himself. "Most human males react to male-on-male sexual violence with extreme disgust. Their general reaction seems to be 'That is just wrong.' I think they are secretly terrified of being a victim of such, and they can't begin to comprehend what the attacker is thinking."
Jarlaxle evaluated how that worked in his favor. There could be no identifying with the attacker in this case, then. But he was worried; being so disgusted and terrified of being in his position might make his very presence uncomfortable to Theros.
Then again, Theros seemed unusually mature and self-possessed.
Jarlaxle finally realized that Artemis could also be affected by what had happened. "You must also be disturbed. Angry."
Entreri's expression darkened. "As it was, they were going to die. Had they gotten much further than they did, they would have been slowly carved up first. It would not be enough to simply kill them."
Jarlaxle felt simultaneously revolted at the idea of the assault lasting one moment longer than it had, and comforted by Artemis' declaration that he would have happily tortured the men for getting farther. He reached out and impulsively squeezed Artemis' hand.
Entreri accepted the squeeze and then held on to his hand, ignoring other passerby. "I said I'd protect your ears," he said quietly, so quietly only an elf would hear.
Jarlaxle felt warmth spring to his cheeks. He smiled at Artemis, for once out of words.
