It rained on the way back, and it was a bedraggled, soaked, footsore pair of Fereldans who dragged into the bordello that evening. The Duenna met them at the door and covered Maric's face with kisses. She even went so far as to kiss Loghain once.
"My poor boys. Did that horrible man treat you badly? Mi bellissimo Maric, you pretty face, she's all black and blue. I have the girls draw for you both a hot bath, eh? Soak away the hurts and the cold rain."
"Thanks, that sounds wonderful," Maric said. The Duenna clapped her hands and a bevy of scantily-clad beauties hustled to prepare the bath water. "Separate basins, I hope," Maric whispered once they were out of earshot. "I mean, I like you, but not that much."
"You think I want to share a tub with the likes of you?" Loghain replied.
The bathing room was everything a house of pleasures required, with a number of large copper baths on clawed feet. Two of these were filled with steaming hot water supplied by the helpful prostitutes, who would gladly have stayed to help the men undress if Loghain hadn't shooed them off. Maric, of course, tried to hide his disappointment by feigning disappointment. Loghain sank into his tub with a heavy sigh and let the hot water work its magic on his sore muscles.
"Who needs to hire a woman when you can have a bath instead?" he said.
"Ha! Well, while I confess there are plenty of pleasures that can be attended to in the bath, they are made all the more pleasant by a woman's presence," Maric said, as he sank into his own tub.
"A real woman, not a rental hussy," Loghain said. "I can't even comprehend why you're so enamored of that sort. I shouldn't particularly want to ride a horse that the whole city has mounted, either."
"Oh come, Loghain - they're just working women, trying to get by."
"Don't talk to me of the hardships of the working class, Maric. I don't hold their profession against them at any rate: few are given any choice in the matter at all. That doesn't mean I have to support their profession by employing them. I'd sooner give them the tools they need to get the hell into some other line of work. Something that doesn't see them riddled with diseases or left beaten and broken in the gutters."
"You always have to take the grim view," Maric said.
"I take the realistic view," Loghain said. "It's a high-risk profession. In Denerim more prostitutes die on the job annually than any other profession, and they don't die accidental deaths, either. They make easy targets for predators."
"Oh, I know, I know. But still, there's something so alluring about a woman who's so free with her body," Maric said.
"It's not free: it costs you five pesetas. And may I remind you, please, that the peseta is stronger than the Ferelden sovereign? So don't go crazy, Your Majesty, or you'll break the treasury."
"I'll have you to know I've yet to pay a single sou," Maric said. "These women, they find Fereldans exotic. Some of them would probably go for you, as well, you know. You're big and muscle-bound and incredibly hairy. They'd probably get off on that. Muy macho."
"Shut up and soak."
"That little one, with the shy green eyes, sure can't keep them off you," Maric said, relentlessly. "She's awfully cute, Loghain."
"She's looking for customers, Maric."
Maric sighed. "So, once our wounds have healed, and assuming we're not thrust immediately into some assassination plot or other by our new employer, what's our itinerary?"
"I think we should inquire at the Circle before we do anything else," Loghain said. "Someone there should know something about these magic mirrors of yours, and perhaps we can coerce them out of a mage's services, too. Having someone around who's handy with a spell always pays off on these kind of wild goose chases."
"We'll have to let slip my identity, then," Maric said. "Do you think they'll believe us?"
"Right now? Not a chance. We'll have to wait a few days for our bruises to heal, and find some upscale clothes to wear. We need to replace our confiscated weapons, too, which is our priority. Can't go about unarmed for long with you dragging me into fights every time I turn around. After we find out what we can from the mages we'll check those ruins the scholar showed us."
"Can you find them? We didn't get our map back."
"I know where they are."
"Lucky for us you have a mind like a steel trap."
"Yes, yes. Rusty and slammed shut."
"Why do you have to stomp all over my punch lines like that?"
"You're getting predictable in your dotage, Maric."
The Duenna came in to the bathing room. In her hands she carried a laden tea tray. Loghain scrambled to cover himself while Maric simply lounged in his basin.
"I bring you boys a nice, hot tea," the Duenna said. "I also come to tell you one of that man's boys has dropped off this."
She set the tea tray down and slapped a hard oilskin packet on a small table that stood between the tubs.
"Our first assignment, I assume," Loghain said, sourly. "I didn't think it would take the man long."
"Need I say that I am incredibly uncomfortable with this whole assassination game?" Maric said.
"It's nothing. Just stick close to me and let me handle it."
"That's not exactly what I mean."
"I know what you mean, but what can we do? It was take that loathsome creature's deal or be assassinated ourselves, and most likely not even with the dignity of an assassination of State, just disposed like so much garbage. These people place little value on life, particularly when that life is ours."
Maric reached for his cup of tea. "You open the envelope, Loghain. I don't even want to look at it."
Once the Duenna left Loghain reached for the oilskin packet. He broke it open and pulled out the parchment inside.
"Oh, lovely," he said. "Looks like we're going to be taking part in a royal coup."
"What?"
"Apparently there's a certain Prince making a pretty successful bid for the throne. His co-competitors, as it were, want him out of the picture. Looks like our guildmaster isn't the only one contracted to send assassins; we don't have to make the kill, we just have to make the effort."
"Ha. Nice."
"Of course, you know that the honor of the guild depends on making the kill, so our temporary employer would be quite displeased if that honor did not go to his guild."
Maric sighed. "Of course."
"Like I said, stick close and leave it to me."
"I don't know what this guy Senor Cacioppo is expecting from us. We're not assassins."
"That's only half true, and you know it."
Maric sighed again. "Very well; I'm not an assassin."
"That's why you're going to leave it to me. Just relax and drink your tea, Maric. I'll take care of you; I always do."