Free The Cult of Sutek by Joshua P. Simon Page B

few instances she seemed to take in stride, but when one particularly large man jostled her, she lashed out a string of profanity so foul the man recoiled.
    Rondel hurried them along before the man composed himself enough to get killed.
    Dendera, on the other hand, remained emotionless until they neared Girga’s market. Standing in front of a whorehouse, a slender woman showing entirely too much skin, and wearing far too much perfume, reached out and cupped the young girl’s breast while grabbing Andrasta’s shoulder.
    Dendera let out a yelp.
    “She is not a relative or a friend, yes?” asked the woman. “I’ll give you eighteen senyu.”
    Andrasta shrugged the woman’s arm away. She looked down at the whore’s partially exposed chest and midriff with disgust. Both of which Rondel thought could do with more covering. Droopy skin marked her as someone much older than she pretended. He coughed after inhaling the prostitute’s heavily applied perfume.
    “She is not for sale,” said Andrasta.
    “Twenty-five?”The woman grabbed Andrasta’s arm again. She fluttered her thick eyelashes, accentuated with painted blue lids. “Come now, there must be a price we can agree on. I must have her.” She paused, gliding her tongue across her lower lip while letting her eyes travel up and down Andrasta’s body. “Perhaps there is something extra I can do to sweeten the deal.”
    Andrasta yanked her arm away. “I don’t want you, whore. And the girl has enough sense not to debase herself.”
    The woman’s face twisted from seduction to outrage. Her mouth curled into a circle as a wad of spit flew out and smacked Andrasta in the cheek.
    Oh, this is going to be bad. Rondel’s hand drifted to his short sword.
    “You dress like a man and think to judge me? Only the gods know what’s between your—”
    Andrasta’s forehead smashed into the woman’s face, cutting off the rest of her insult. A sickening crunch from a broken nose preceded the spray of blood that took to the air. People nearby barked in surprise as the woman collapsed to the ground.
    No one in the crowd came to her aid.
    A burly man pushed through the doorway of the whorehouse. His eyes widened at the sight of the prostitute’s limp body. He came forward with closed fists when he noticed Andrasta’s forehead decorated with blood.
    Andrasta let him close the distance, then stepped into a punch that collided with his jaw. He fell on top of the whore, dazed.
    Andrasta spat on them both.
    Rondel tugged at her arm, ignoring the shocked expression on Dendera’s face. “We need to get out of here before the watch gets word of this. We stand out enough as it is. Assaulting two people isn’t going to do us any favors.”
    “The whore started it.”
    “And you more than finished it. Now, wipe the blood off your face.”
    He hurried them away, wary of any more danger.
    Moving further away from the whorehouse, Rondel noticed children darting in and out of the crowds, brushing into many of the finer dressed citizens before escaping with hands full of money or jingling jewelry.
    Gods, they start young.
    Further in the shadows of dark alleys, glimpses of the men those children would grow up to be waited patiently for unsuspecting travelers.
    Danger is sometimes where you least expect it.
    Rondel’s hand tickled the hilt of his sword to calm himself.
    The rest of their journey through the city was filled with far less excitement. Even at the center of Girga, in the midst of jugglers, dancers, sword swallowers, and fire eaters, they made it through the throng of people without incident.
    * * *
    The king’s residence sat at the top of a hill two miles from the eastern gate. A barrier of thorny shrubs butted against the ten foot limestone wall surrounding it. Atop the wall, every hundred feet, rested a small, guard outpost. An archer patrolled each one.
    Rondel tried to make up for Andrasta’s intimidating glare by putting on his best smile while striding toward the