Once again they were blindfolded, roughly manhandled, and thrown into a closed carriage. This time Loghain's unerring sense of direction put their final destination as a district of fine city estates in the heart of town.
"He can't be angry with us, can he?" Maric asked in a low voice.
"It will be equal parts compliment and warning," Loghain said. "'You boys done good. You make me happy. Now don't screw up. You don't wanna see me get unhappy.'"
"Hey, that was a pretty good Antivan accent," Maric said.
"Thank you, I've been practicing."
"No, you haven't."
"No, I haven't."
"You big joker."
"That's me."
"Are you ever not sarcastic?"
"Not typically."
They were taken out of the carriage and led into a house. They were pushed down into chairs before the blindfolds were removed. Their bald-headed, paunchy employer sat across either the same teakwood desk as before, or another in all ways identical.
"You don't find this charade at all monotonous?" Loghain asked. "I confess that I do."
"You do not appreciate theatricalities," Senor Cacioppo said. "Your friend, on the other hand, seems to be enjoying himself."
"My friend could keep himself well entertained with two feathers and a piece of baling twine," Loghain said. "I do not require entertainment: I prefer to stick strictly to business."
"So serious. Well, I like that, when it means you get the job done and done right, like you did. You boys done good. You make me happy. Now don't screw up. You don't wanna see me get unhappy."
Maric stared hard at Loghain. "You scare me, do you know that? In a good way. Most of the time."
Once again they faced a long walk back to the bordello. When they were at last within sight of the building, Maric spoke to Loghain.
"Why two feathers?" he said.
"Pardon?"
"You said I could keep myself well entertained with two feathers and a piece of baling twine. Why two feathers? I'd be perfectly content with one."
Loghain stopped in his tracks and stared at him for a moment. Finally he shook his head sadly and walked on. "Andraste's ass."
Inside, the bordello was in a state of pandemonium. Through the dog pile of half-naked women it was difficult to tell what was going on, but eventually the waves parted a bit and they saw that the prostitutes were attacking a pair of rather large-bodied men. The men were armed, the women, by and large, were not. The men had the look of soldiers, which in Antiva meant they were most likely assassins. There was a great deal of blood on the carpets and even the walls.
The Duenna appeared, wielding a dagger that looked more like a short sword. She attacked with deadly speed and silence, but the assassins were too good. One caught her wrist and twisted until she was forced to drop her weapon. She cried out in pain. Loghain let out a roar of animal rage, and everyone stopped fighting and looked.
Prostitutes scattered as Loghain rushed forward, grabbed both assassins by the neck, and tossed them to the floor. Their weapons skittered out of their hands and out of reach.
"What the fuck is going on here?" he said in a growl.
"These…gentlemen…decided to become mean with a couple of my girls," the Duenna said, as she massaged her sore wrist. "Please, make them disappear."
"Permanently?" Loghain asked.
"That would be for the best," the Duenna said.
In response, Loghain's hands tightened on the men's necks. They struggled and thrashed, but could not shake him. Their faces turned red, then purple, and then blue. The thrashing stopped.
"Sometimes, Loghain…you scare me in a bad way," Maric said.
"Is there some place where I can dispose of this garbage?" Loghain asked the Duenna.
"An old abandoned cistern out back. If you would please take the bother, there are several bags of quick lime in the tool shed."
"Not a bother. Were any of your girls badly hurt?"
"One of them cut Josephina. Otherwise, just scratches."
"I know something about field medicine, if you want me to take a look."
"Please, Maker bless you."
Loghain left the dead men lying and went to tend to the prostitute's wounds. They were severe - her face and arms were badly cut, and she'd been slashed several times in both breasts. Fortunately these wounds were meant to hurt and disfigure rather than kill, or she would have been in serious trouble. Loghain directed Maric to help him apply pressure to the worst of the wounds, to stop the bleeding.
"Still think prostitutes are thrilling?" he asked him. "Take a good look at reality, my friend. This is what these women have to deal with. What reason do any of them have to trust or even to like men? If you want to know the truth of it, they probably hate us on general principles. And who the fuck could blame them? We may be their primary source of income but we are also the enemy."
"This is repulsive. Why would anyone do this?" Maric asked, as he gingerly applied his hands to her wounds.
"The short answer? Because they can. You want a better reason than that you'll have to ask someone else. I'll never understand it."
"Is she going to be all right?" Maric asked.
"She'll live. She's going to need stitches, though. Go ask the Duenna if she wants to call for a surgeon. I can do it if I have to, but it won't be as pretty when its healed."
The Duenna came back in with Maric. "You can stitch her up?"
"If you can get me thread and a sterilized needle," he said. "I've done it before, when I had to, but a surgeon could do a neater job of it."
"I've had surgeons out to stitch up my girls before," the Duenna said. "They don't care that my girls make their living on their looks. Please, I'd rather you did it. Maybe you are not so skilled, but at least you seem to care."
"All right, if you think it wise. Sterilized needle and thread, and rubbing alcohol, if you've got it. Otherwise, some sort of liquor will work all right, preferably something clear like gin. And she's going to need some liquor herself. This is going to hurt like a son of a bitch."
Josephina smiled, quite a grim sight through the blood and lacerations on her face. "I am used to pain," she said.
"I don't doubt it. Still, no need to suffer excessively, is there? Not when this country is so renowned for its brandy."