The Forgotten - Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

The pair entered a dimly lit room to be assaulted by another dream, but this one was of heavily smoke, heady perfumes and male fantasy rather than an imitation nightmare.  The room was also soundproofed as they could hear nothing from the raucous noise behind them, only a light swaying music from a harp played by someone in some hidden corner of the scented, smokey room.  There was a glowing brazier in another corner that produced little light infused with the drugged and scented smoke.  A chandelier hanging from the celling holding stuttering candles provided more light but the edges of the vast room were still plunged into darkness.  Gaudy coloured silks covered the ceiling as gauzy buntings in different, fiery hues covered the walls.  Snatches of garish rugs could be seen under the sea of feminine bodies, most of which were naked except for the slave collars worn around the neck of each woman present.

Some women lay on the floor in a semi-comatose state while others were standing and undulating their hips and breasts in time with the swaying music.  Some wore transparent fabrics disguised as dresses that were floating and whispering around the hips of those few that wore anything, all adding to the dreamlike quality.  Those that were toothless or misshapen skulked in shadowy corners trying to hide themselves.  Others still pleasured themselves or each other by kissing, caressing and stroking as they lay on brightly coloured cushions.

Vance heard a sigh by his ear and turned to see a tall woman his height with the bronzed and sleek limbs like that of a cat.  Short, black, tightly curled hair covered her head as she swayed seductively to the music.  Her black eyes were half lidded as her hands toyed with her nipples, pierced by golden rings.  Vance could see the pink tip of her tongue between her slightly parted lips.  She wore nothing but a jewel studded slave collar as she begged he join her seductive dance.  There was a moaning sigh as hands raised up for the two men from beneath them, grasping their legs and reaching eagerly higher.  The man with the dark hair harshly slapped the hands away with disgust, a cry of pleasure from the pain enticing one of the women into orgasm as she began to writhe beneath them.

“Advertising,” the taller of the two men grunted, his tone clear in his revulsion.

Vance mumbled a reply but said little.  He saw one young man who could be described as pretty, with long hair and angular eyes pleasuring himself.  He looked at Vance and gestured the man join him.  Vance looked away, sickened.  Some of the women were even brazen enough to rub themselves against him, but he only pushed them carefully away.  As Vance reached the door he felt eyes boring into him.  She was wearing a gauzy, transparent material and not joining in any of the antics before them.  He was captured by her green eyes that watched his passing with misery.  The only thing marring her porcelain features were the lines of hard life and the smudge of a bruise on one cheek.  Obviously recently purchased.  The other man followed Vance’s gaze and a hungry smile split his features, rearranging them into their most attractive positions.

“Pretty,” he complimented his friend’s choice then gave him a shove between the shoulders.  “Keep moving.”

Another young woman caught Vance’s attention and he felt a stirring of attraction.  Her hair was a dark blonde that matched his own and that of the other woman but her eyes were deep blue and mournful.  She beckoned Vance join her as she looked at him imploringly with sad eyes.

“Take me with you,” she begged him softly, glancing around them furtively.

Vance began to lean in her direction until another shove, this time hard, between his shoulder blades from Sigwulf kept him moving.

“Pretty, but dirty,” Sigwulf muttered.  “Her lips have badly concealed scabs.  Move.”

  They reached the door on the far side of the room where Vance silently opened the rotting door and entered a small, dimly room that was their destination, with Sigwulf following.  After gently closing the door, Sigwulf locked it and stepped into the shadows, his dark clothing shrouding him, effectively making him invisible.

  A lean man sitting on a throne-like chair behind a desk lit by two candles, looked up sharply as he heard the click of the lock, a hand immediately going to a slim dagger that lay before him on the desk that was piled high with papers.

“Cull,” the tall, blonde man said in his light voice as he walked up to the desk.

The lean man let out an explosive breath.  “By the Gods, lad, you should know better than to sneak up on a man in my profession.  I could have had a dagger mistakenly thrown through you by now.”

Vance gave a loud laugh.

Cull grimaced and started shuffling through sheets of paper before him and grunted.

“What’s the problem?”  Vance asked.

Cull grunted again.  “Staff theft.  These numbers don’t add up.”

Vance gave his loud laugh again.  “Cull, your staff is comprised of thieves, slavers and worse.  As the leader of their Guild here, of course you have staff theft.”

Cull put down his papers and looked up at the blonde man through hooded eyelids, his yellow eyes calculating.  “Listen lad, you’re an outlawed and bastard Galadon Knight in a thieves den in the middle of the night.  I take it that this is official business?”

Vance nodded.  “My Lord Draynon sent us,” he said in a voice filled with disgust.

“Us?”

The man with the dark hair stepped into the edge of the dim circle of light.  “We’re here to collect the girl-child,” he spoke, his voice still soft and deep.

“Well, well.  If it isn’t the murdering Sir Sigwulf.”

Sigwulf growled a warning at Cull who smiled in return, ignoring the threat.

“Not happy I take it?”  Cull asked, his voice filled with a mocking lilt.

Sigwulf stared at Cull with disgust, seeing the man for what he truly was.  Leader of the local Thieves Guild and a Slave Master.  No one ever reached such positions without routinely resorting murder, blackmail, threats and extortion.

“Murderous?”  Sigwulf’s tone was faintly amused.  “Who paid the assassin who was sent after me, Cull?”  He asked, not expecting an answer.  “You shouldn’t have sent your nephew if you wanted him to live past that day.  Not my fault you sent a boy to do a man’s job.”

Cull growled a warning.  “That nephew was like my own son, you murdering bastard, and you were interfering with my business.”

“Don’t mix your business with the Hawthorn City Administration Department, my business.  Next time you do that I’ll carve out...”

“Gentlemen,” Vance murmured.  “We have a mission to finish.  We can cut little pieces out of each other after we have collected the child.”

“I am a knight,” Sigwulf grunted.  “Not some damned babysitting schoolgirl trying to earn bloody pocket money.”  Sigwulf snorted his disgust again.

“All duties have purpose.  How long have you been at the stronghold now, ten years?”  Cull asked, a simmering anger still evident in his voice.

“12 years.  Both of us,” he gestured to Vance.

Cull continued to glare at Sigwulf.  “All right, 12 then.  You’re 27 years old.  Been a knight with training for 12 years, with far less training than many other knights.  Draynon sends you to collect the girl with only one other knight as backup.  Why you when others are more trained?  Is it because your absence can be explained from your job in the city?  Yes.  Is it because you know this city and me?  Yes.  Is it because he trusts you?  Yes.  How many others like you does Draynon have besides young Vance here?”

Sigwulf grunted.  “You seem to know a lot about my other duties.”

“My job is to collect information, and others to pay for it.  Money flows when I talk and when I stop.”

“How much steel do I need to offer you to forget me?”

“More than you’re carrying.  Forget your weapons were handed in at the door, boy?”  Cull sneered the last word.

“I never said I was honest about my weapons.”  His tone was challenging, teeth flashing in the candle light as he smiled with anticipation.

Vance coughed, interrupting the pair again before things degenerated any further.  “I see your point.”

“Do you?”  Cull asked, turning to face the blonde knight again.  His penetrating yellow eyes stared at the younger man.  “Your supposedly important mission right now is to retrieve the girl and deliver her safely to some pathetic stronghold somewhere in Hawthorn to save your life and the lives of all of the people on Faynon,” he said as he waved his hands in the air, replicating a grand gesture.   “And we all live happily ever after,” his tone was flat.

Sigwulf grunted again.

“Leave me,” Cull demanded.

The dark haired man gave another grunt of disgust.  “Gladly.  The air in here is foul.”  Sigwulf bent down slightly to whisper in Vance’s ear as he passed.