Free Shadowblade by Tom Bielawski Page A

musings.
    There were smithy’s and fishmongers and bakers and excellent aromas drifting out onto the road. Even though he wasn’t hungry, Zach couldn’t help but stop at a traditional Cklathish bakery for some warm sweet bread. It felt really good to go into a warm bakery after being out in the brisk wind and he dreaded going back out. But Zach had some work to do to throw off any who might be looking for him. He thought of the Spiders then, and wondered if they would begin to suspect treachery on his part and send assassins to kill him. It was certainly too soon for that, but he knew such a time may come. He began to wonder if he was truly far enough away from his past.
    As he stepped out into the cold and made his way back toward his inn, Zach’s attention was drawn to a building painted in bright pastel pink and sea-foam green, stark against the dull browns and greens of its neighboring businesses. It was tall, nearly four stories, easily the tallest building on the waterfront. It may have been bright pink at one time, he observed, but its paint was now warn and faded. Still, the garish appearance had the desired effect and Zach knew without asking this place was indeed a brothel.
    A sign depicting a beautiful and somewhat faded maiden bearing a very lifelike bosom dangled above the door on rusty chains, swinging in the cool breeze of early afternoon.
    The Siren’s Call.
    “A good place to start,” he mused aloud. He paused a moment, to see if the voice would have a comment for him, but none came and so he went inside. He had been very obvious when he made his entrance and stood in the doorway a moment, allowing the cool air to further cool the ladies who waited inside. After an angry shout from the scantily clad woman behind the bar, he closed the door and entered the brothel.
    Inside it was warm and inviting despite the chill of the day which he had intentionally allowed the occupants to feel. The waiting room was large and furnished with comfortable looking couches and chairs situated around a hearth that was blazing at the moment. There was a long bar also and several men sat drinking, presumably awaiting their turn to pass through the double doors at the far end of the room.
    Zach took a seat at the bar and asked for a bottle of rum, placing a pair of Imperial gold crowns on the counter. The barmaid, hearing the sound of coins on the table, immediately attended to Zach.
    “Right away, sir!’ she said with a sly smile, her ample cleavage visible above a nearly see-through shift. She returned a moment later with a bottle of rum, the label indicating it had come from the Hother Islands. ”Visiting our lovely town, are you?“
    “Yes,” he said, feigning sadness. Then he extended his hand and said, “I’m Levius of Western Vola, but my friends call me Levi.”
    “I’m Siren,” she purred with a very fake smile. “Nice to meet you, Levi . Tell me all about your trip.”
    And so Zach wove a rich tale about being an Arnathian lord from the province of Western Vola whose passenger ship had been waylaid by pirates and he ended up in Powyss to await transport back to the empire’s main city. The barmaid pretended to be impressed and listened patiently while Zach told his story. He told her he was staying in room “5-F” of the Royal Best , a higher priced inn near the Fighting Hens , and casually asked if her staff made “outcalls” at other inns. She nodded and offered Zach his choice of “services” but he declined, casually slipping an Imperial Crown on the counter. It was then that Siren seemed to understand that Zach was telling her all this for a very different reason.
    “Who runs these gods-awful ports anyway?” he asked dramatically, as though the question were rhetorical. Even so, he palmed another crown on the counter and the barmaid deftly covered it over with a bar towel and made it disappear. “They ought to be fired!”
    “The Red Dragons run everything in Powyss,” she said pointedly