Free House of Lust by Tony Roberts Page B

the servants’ wing.  There was little décor here and everything was functional and stark.  The lighting was much reduced and the windows few and far between.  Amne kept her head in the folds of the hood and bowed, so that nobody who passed could see who she was.
    There was a long passageway off from which doors to the kitchens and stores led, but they passed all of these and went to the very end and a locked door.  Lalaas had the key and unlocked it, albeit with some effort.  He peered out and, satisfied all was clear, ushered the princess out and then locked the door behind them.
    They were in a far corner of the courtyard, close to the stables, and made their way along the front of these to the big doors that led out to the streets.  Two guards were on duty and Lalaas nodded to them.  They looked curiously at his companion, huddled in a commoner’s outfit.  “No word, lads.  Just some – ah – entertainment someone had last night,” he grinned.
    “Ah, right, sir.  No word.”  One guard opened a small portal in the bigger gates and the two slipped out into the cobbled street beyond.
    As the door shut Amne leaned towards Lalaas’ ear.  “Did you tell them I was some sort of whore?”
    Lalaas shrugged.  “All I could think of.  Sorry.”
    Amne shook her head but smiled.  “You must think I am one.”
    “No I don’t.”
    “I can’t help it, Lalaas.  You must hate taking me to a traitor who’ll be doing it to me in a short while.  And I’m looking forward to it, too!”
    “Amne, don’t speak of it.  You’re using what means you have to get information from him to help defeat the rebel cause.  Come on, let’s go, and keep your head down.”
    They emerged onto the main street that led to the east gate, the so-called Turslenka Gate.  The richer properties were along this thoroughfare, and Dragan Purfin’s city home was close by, just one street away.  It was unremarkable but looked well-maintained and was clean and tidy which spoke of maintenance and occupation.
    Lalaas released her on the other side of the street.  “I’ll be close by.  Good luck.”
    “Thanks,” Amne whispered, almost too nervous to speak.  She was trembling, partly through apprehension, partly through suppressed excitement.  She was tingling with the thought of Dragan making love to her, and the memories of previous occasions heightened her anticipation.  Her nipples hardened and she tried to ease the rubbing from the coarse fabric of her garments but it was no good.
    She knocked on the black painted wooden door and looked up and down the street.  A few people were making their way along it, but nobody was close.
    The door opened.  A male servant stood there.  “Yes?  What business do you have?”
    “I am here to see Dragan Purfin – he sent for me.”
    “Did he?  What business is that?”
    Amne fought the urge to strike the insolent man.  She kept her face half-hidden.  “Tell him his contact has arrived.”
    The servant’s lips twisted, then he allowed her entry.  “Wait here,” he said, pointing to the ground.  Amne stood in the entry vestibule and looked round to pass the time.  In a short while footsteps came to her and she turned to see Dragan approaching.  He took one look at her figure, grunted in amusement and gestured for her to follow him.  He led her up a flight of wide wooden steps to the next floor and into a room at the end.  It was well-lit with wide windows.  It was a bedroom.
    Amne stood by the bed, hardly daring to breathe.  She watched as Dragan pulled the shutters to on the windows, lit a single candle, then came up to her.  He threw the hood back, revealing her familiar features.  “Nice touch, the disguise.  You got much on underneath?”
    “A little,” she said, trembling.
    Dragan smiled and unfastened the cloak which fell to the ground, then eyed her bursting dress.  “Nice.  Good choice of clothing.  Do I rip it off you or what?”
    Amne unfastened