Trade from the south had dwindled with the change of the season, as it always did, and the harvest from the orchards in the central valleys had not been overwhelming. Information from the south suggested they would be of little help for food and every sign seemed ready to point toward a hard Bais, especially if it turned into a Bais where she would need fighters. The best information she had on the hippocamps were rumors and the occasional attack on a small band of travelers. If the rumors were true, a small party might be able to deal with them, but any reasonable number and the lack of a meaningful army in the north would prove a problem very quickly.
Before she could rightly ponder what to do about her lack of forces, the three stood in front of Mion’s brothel. Subtle as ever for outward appearances. He insisted that he had names for all of his brothels but that he would never tell nor post any of them. “When the product is of a certain quality,” he was fond of saying, “people will seek it out.” His way of enforcing a sort of quality control, perhaps.
They were greeted politely by a half-dressed girl who looked as though she’d barely reached adulthood. Her small breasts were pert to the point of seeming as though they wanted to escape the girl’s chest. For her youth, the girl was not shy in the slightest.
“Treorai, I’ve looked forward to your arrival.” Her voice was bright and youthful, matching her look. “The Master will want to see you right away.”
The Master. An affectation that suited Mion almost too well. It made Rianaire laugh nearly every time she’d heard it come from the mouth of one of his whores. Rianaire nudged Inney and smiled.
“Did he have you call him Master as well?”
Inney scoffed at the suggestion and scanned the room. It was all Rianaire could do not to tease her further, but the girl motioned for them to follow and led them toward a blonde wood stair. The brothel was entirely well-lit as brothels went. Mion had a range of products, he always reminded her as much when she marveled at something or other during a visit. The more she thought of him the more she started to wonder if she wasn’t, perhaps, making something of a mistake. The light blue of the walls carried from the lowest floor up to the second and turned a deeper shade as they reached the top floor. A large double door sat at the landing. There was no knock, the girl who had greeted them simply opened the doors and stood off to the side inside the room. Rianaire entered first, running a hand softly under the girl’s breast as she passed.
“There is work.” Síocháin’s voice was flat but the delivery was curt enough to make her point.
Rianaire pouted but continued into the room, letting her hand slide away as naturally as if she had intended it in the first place. It was another opulent and unnecessarily plush ordeal. Deep blues and light greys made up the bulk of the color scheme with light wood floors. Mion may have offered a variety of services, but his taste was predictable. Rianaire found herself a spot on a small sedan across from a chair, figuring that would suffice for Mion whenever he decided to show up.
“The Master will be with you shortly.” The girl bowed and excused herself.
He loved to make people wait. Rianaire was sure it was a bad habit but the sensation that lingered on her fingers took her mind away from it. There was a reason she went to see him rather than calling him to the Bastion. Síocháin came and took Rianaire’s furs to place them in a closet near the double door they’d been let into. Inney wandered around inspecting pieces of furniture and whatever was hiding behind the blinds and curtains that hung around the room.
It wasn’t more than a pair of minutes before the door at the far side of the room opened up and a naked woman, doughy and tan stumbled into the room giggling. Inney and Síocháin turned to see her, she blushed and giggled.
“Oh, do excuse me,” she chirped before jogging lightly across the room to the double door. The sound of skin against skin was loud and obvious, though the woman seemed to enjoy the embarrassment of it.
Mion followed behind her, making a show of wiping his mouth with a cloth before handing it back to one of the twin boys that followed him. He was dressed in a blue-black dress and wasted no time in moving to one of the chairs across from Rianaire. The twin boys hurried themselves removing the other chair and replacing it with a table which held a crystal carafe of wine and a pair of glasses.
“Rianaire, it is always an unrivaled joy to see you.”
Síocháin joined her on the sedan and Inney took a place directly behind Rianaire. The boys attending Mion were not the ones that had been with him only a season ago, Rianaire noticed.
“I see you have seen fit to replace your attendants.”
They finished their work and took places on either side of the chair. Mion frowned and ran a finger up the backside of one of the boys.
“It is one of the cruelest tricks of nature that elves are young for so little of their lives and that fewer still are twins.”
Rianaire laughed dismissively, “It must be a great burden to have to swap attendants so regularly.”
“A monetary one at the very least. I pay well enough for my companions.” His eyes moved to Inney.
“I never belonged to you, whoremonger.” Inney’s voice was sharp and the words were meant to bite.
Mion
