Death to the Grand Guild
Sunrise at the Sultry Madame

7

Sunrise at the Sultry Madame

Awakening this time, his head was covered in sweat as he looked up, removing the dark linen. He could see a small crack in the plaster in the ceiling above.

It was dawn, he noticed, and he was under a soft, linen sheet with a plush, woollen blanket. The bed was long enough to stretch his legs, a luxury he had missed, and it reminded him of home.

“You need me to help you? The way your eyes are peering about, it is encouraging.”

Edmund turned to where Julius was sitting. He was sipping on a bronze goblet, messing with his hair. He watched his friend comb paraffin into his goatee, then his moustache.

“I may have been dreaming. For a moment, I was in my bed back in Hayston.”

Julius looked his way after getting his facial hair to a point. “I have much to say to you. I have been in knots, brother. Do you have the strength to join me?” he asked Edmund.

“I can see, brother!” Edmund pushed himself to his feet. He was still in the same stale bloody garments from that evening in Faust but he didn’t care.

A feeling of jubilation had struck him as Julius stood and came to him swiftly. He wasn’t expecting him to embrace him as he squeezed the air out of him, then he came to tears.

“This whole nightmare is a penance the gods will punish me for.” Julius put his hands on his face, staring at his eyes. “They are barely swollen, just a hint of red in your whites. They looked dreadful when I saw them uncovered back in Faust.”

“You don’t need forgiveness from me, my friend,” Edmund said, trying to console him. “If you want to pity me, you can help me to that table you came from. I noticed a loaf of bread with a bowl full of apples. I am famished.”

Julius couldn’t answer, only laughing with tears welling in his eyes, his friend elated as he held him by the arm. Edmund’s legs wobbled slightly, and he was suffering from severe thirst. “I must have sweated for hours. I could drink more water than a mule that had just come out of the fields.”

“You sweated for two days, you have been in and out since we arrived here.” In a rush, Julius poured him a goblet, and Edmund grasped it with both hands, drinking the entire contents as Julius poured him another.

“Try not to engulf that one. Sip it and eat one of these apples. They are the best I have ever had.” Julius was smiling at him.

“I will get the lad out in the hall to fetch hot water. It’s the largest tub that I’ve ever seen. Have you looked around this place? And it’s only six oaks a week.”

Julius didn’t wait for his reply. He promptly ran out into the hall and shouted out for hot water. Edmund was looking around at their quarters, which were very large compared to the Frookuh.

He noticed crafted maple furnishings and dyed linen curtains framing the two windows. A slight snore alerted him that his brother and Osmond were asleep. Their clothes were in a heap while Edmund observed Osmond lying the opposite way in his bed.

“Those two idiots had themselves a time last night.” Julius then shivered. “I should put more coal in the brazier; it is freezing out there this morning. Do you want me to put a blanket around you, Edmund?”

He declined while cutting into a loaf of barley bread, gasping in joy, seeing a small bowl with butter in it.

“You will have to pardon us, we thought you may sleep for several days,” Julius said while shoving a chunk of coal into the iron brazier. “If you couldn’t see we had no idea of what to do.”

Edmund could smell the sea again. He could hear the gulls outside, and their screeches had him thinking. “Where are we?” he asked Julius.

“Welcome to the Sultry Madame, and that lot had just made it back a few hours before you opened your eyes, as they serenaded themselves, waking me from a nice slumber.” his friend grumbled in annoyance.

“That’s why I am up this early; those two have been boasting of their entire folly.”

Edmund could only listen as he bit into an apple. His attention was immersed in eating. He blessed the gods when he found honey, so he drizzled some of that on a plate to dab his bread into.

Julius then looked down at Osmond and Harwin while shaking his head in anger. “Here I am near death in worry, and they think with their members.”

“Those fools are drunk on Peregrine’s gold, spending it already.” Julius then stopped complaining and smiled at him. “I intend on spoiling a few silver on a woman tonight. Since you seem fit, you should do yourself a favour and find one to celebrate your recovery.”

“I am happy to nibble on this bread, thank you,” he replied while a stream of lads entered with steaming hot buckets. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I plan to bathe, get dressed, and obligate you to join me for a proper meal. Then you will entertain me while I peruse the city, then you can do what you want.”

“If you have the strength, then I owe you that. I have been feeling cooped up like a frookuh since we left home, feeling more queer since we parted company from those wretched two. I can’t believe I considered them friends of mine,” Julius remarked as Edmund undressed and climbed into the steaming bath.

He sat soaking as his friend kept rambling. “Edmund, I felt compelled to visit them daily. How foolish it feels as I sit here.”

“I must have been out of my wits to come there every day as that woman insulted me. Guilt would creep into me when Peregrine spoke and remained in my mind until I returned to them,” Julius said, pulling on his beard.

“He was a friendly man, that made you go out of your way for him. I could do nothing else but comply with them when they requested this journey north.

“I dragged you guys into it,” Julius added, getting upset again. “The journey was going so well, even the horrible experience of riding that horse didn’t beat me down.”

Edmund tried to listen while drying off as he found one of the woollen tunics Lucy had sewn and dressed while Julius was continuing his catharsis.

“The whole needling and prodding, that wretched forager, I should have expected him. That vile Camille made things so difficult, and that infernal chest your brother kept complaining over and over about. That damn, infernal chest of theirs.”

“I will miss not being able to gaze at her,” Edmund remarked.

“I used to harbour those feelings,” Julius sighed. “She was never more beautiful than while you laid in the wagon blinded, her head uncloaked with her hair resting in a tight braid between her breasts.

She was wearing a tunic that day, fitting her properly, and she looked more like a woman than I’d ever seen her. I grew excited by that, but even more when she left us behind.”

“I’m telling you, Edmund,” he continued as Edmund was braiding his hair into a long tail. “When your brother sank that dirk into Rishard’s hand, I froze like a coward.”

“He was so quick, killing a brute with a swift stroke, then he grabbed the other and bashed his head into the table, screaming at me to quit standing there. I walloped that man hard.”

“I still get in a panic thinking about it. My brother cut the face off the man’s twin. Then that axe, that axe, Edmund, burying in that lad. It will stay with me forever.” Julius was in a trance as Edmund was now ready, following him out to the hallway.

A lad was working the doors that led to the stairway, smiling as he opened it for them.

“Does the stair lead to the top? I was wondering if this establishment had a roof entrance. I would find it a huge favour if I could take a good look at your fine city,” Edmund asked the lad.

“Yes, they do, but I strongly advise you to not meander into the upper floors. The madam will find it unkind for you to enter, and you may see the rooftops differently if you know what I mean,” the lad replied sternly.

Julius was telling him about their arrest after the long inquiry. He complimented Harwin on how he handled the situation, sparing him, who was in a conundrum keeping Osmond from saying something idiotic.

“Your brother looked like you in there. He was a different man, not the bloke sitting in a tavern I dearly love. He saved us from being beaten in the cell, I am sure of it.” His mate explained while flopping his hands around in big gestures.

“That Captain Sykes, he was devoted to Master Haldock like a lackey — what he said, that captain did. I have never witnessed such a queer thing. I bet he is lying in a ditch with a knife in his gut, the way those tossers....” Julius added as they walked through the door to the rooftop.

Edmund nudged him to get him to cease his babbling, pointing out the view of the harbour that stretched out afar.

The scene was beautiful to Edmund. He peered out at the bay, gazing at several large, three-masted carracks that were loading wares to sell in Raines or Ethelly, he imagined.

The streets bustled with wagons leaving the docks for the merchants to barter goods. He imagined bright fruits from Dietrich, oil pressed from olives in Ethelly, and shiny jewels that came from the mines of Elbe.

“How did they avoid being blind themselves, Edmund?” Julius asked, souring his visions. “I asked the captain back in Faust. The man said if I ever ask that question again, he would leave me dead along the roadside to Lonoke. He made that clear to all of us. I am still angry at how we arrived here under duress.”

“Julius,” Edmund interrupted, “You should enjoy what we are surrounded by and unlatch yourself from that. I was blind, frightened, and wondering the same thing while in the darkness and convinced I saw a man bury his dirk in Camille.”

“Yet, she was fine, my brother told me, as I killed a man and stabbed another for them. It would have been better if I would have stayed the coward in my room rather than suffering the agony in my eyes and lungs, begging for death to escape it.”

“Your actions got us all our gold,” Julius replied.

“I am sure of that. When that bag was given to me, it tormented me with shame. I think your brother felt the same way as me. He kept it cloaked behind the anger he held toward that healer, but it was there, I am positive.”

“Look at those walls. Forget that whole trip and just look at them, Julius.” He was pointing to the thing that compelled him to come on this journey in the first place.

The walls were old, and it was tall, over two hundred and fifty feet of grey morbid rock, covered in vines that were losing their leaves to autumn. “The walls of Grimm,” he told Julius, the structure was older than Lonoke he was trying to indulge his friend.

“Only in the Gospel of Xarl are they mentioned, a reminder of what the Grimm left behind before they went extinct, the Gospel said.”

“The land of the first men, haunted and forbidden, and while many have braved to enter the thick woods of tall trees behind them, no one has lived to talk about them.”

“They look grim, I won’t argue,” Julius says lacking interest, commenting that Harwin had spoken a bit about them. “Your brother says that is where Abingdon civilization began, the first city that was built. What did he call it?” Julius asks scratching his chin

“Osiris,” Edmund answered him. “It is in the Gospel of Xarl, the father from above. I am surprised Harwin remembered it. He never was one for religion.”

“They look old enough,” Julius muttered glancing at them.

“Even the Gospel of Xarl was written after they were built, friend Julius,” Edmund smiled. “I have been thinking about the temple. We had a large one in Hayston. In the darkness, I was praying to myself. It helped me, Julius.”

“The churches in Breeston have been long gone before my time began I am sure. They couldn’t get any coin, so the bishop starved and he left,” Julius replied with a laugh.

“I know of some who pray to it, that book you are talking about. I have never seen it though. The gods I know nothing of, except that my father said that they are there. I know of their use in only profanity. That is where you hear the gods spoken of the most in the wards.”

Julius had him laughing. It had been a while since he read it. He was privy to his father’s book and studied it many times.

He had never thought about it in Breeston; “Maybe the Guild has a temple, Julius, since they made it known that the gods loved them above all in every writ and parchment they documented.”

“The stones are large. How could they have raised them so high? Who were these people? Were they giants?” Julius wondered, changing the subject from something he knew little about.

“The men who tutored us as children said that the Grimm themselves built them, with the help of the Minoans, who are of similar blood. Both came from the loins of the father.”

“And where did we come from? Xarl’s pile of dung?” Julius laughed aloud.

“These Minoans like to remind people of how elevated a station they are. If they’re related to the gods, then why hide up in those huge mountains away from the world? Why imprison yourself if you are related to the gods?”

Julius’s words weren’t anything new. Edmund had heard it from his brother, men like Bitters, and even his cousins. He had hoped to meet the ambassador of Minoa one day.

His uncle had, and he told many tales about the way they looked and how intimidating they could make you feel.

He hoped to see if it was true, so he looked back at his friend without an answer to his question. Then, changing the subject to what he knew, educated Julius about the walls of Lonoke.

And about the trees and the thistle that bloomed during the spring that kept the meadows blue until late fall. He told him about their leather crafting, their unique bows, and the fine textiles that all the lords send envoys to acquire.

Edmund imagined he was boring his friend to death, but Julius was pulling his goatee while listening to him down the winding stairs that took them from the top to the bottom lobby.

He even mentioned the tale of the Lion of Lonoke, but Julius remarked that Harwin had already told him this. As they sat at a table, Edmund gazed at people from foreign lands to him.

Edmund noticed an Elbish merchant in deep black leathers, his skin dark as ebony, sitting with a man from Raines, with eyes a brighter green than his. He noticed many Nuhrish sitting a head higher than the Lonoke, common seamen belonging to one of the many ships out on the docks.

“I like this city, Edmund. I will regret going back,” Julius mentioned. “How are we to return if we can’t go back the way we came? That captain threatened us. Do you think he speaks the truth?”

Edmund was sipping water from a goblet the tavern girl brought him, informing her of a food he craved, and then pondered it for a spell. “We will have to book passage— the nearest port is Whitecombs in Dietrich — then travel north by the Triad Road on a coach,” he answered Julius, dwelling on it.

“The worst thing is that we have to pass through Hayston, and since my brother and I are in exile, our presence there would have to go undiscovered.”

“It will take two fortnights to get back to the walls from there, then an inquiry with Captain Wintergarden to gain entrance inside the gates.”

“Peregrine.” Julius scoffed bitterly. “I better never see him in the wards again.”

“It was some of our faults as well, a price to pay for our decision. I will look into preparing arrangements for us when I feel better,” Edmund replied.

“Well, our mates will have to fulfill their desires first. I know we are rich men now, but this city would make us paupers within a month. I got to get Osmond focused on our plans tonight.”

The food arrived as Julius lost his focus upon a bowl of potatoes and peppers, as Edmund followed, smiling upon a pewter plate of bacon and eggs fried in pork fat.

He nibbled on sliced oranges, pineapples, and olives, then the tavern woman returned with an entire loaf of wheat bread, with more butter and honey as they slathered it upon a wedge.

“I’m glad I let you order, Edmund. I do not understand what half of this is, but I’m desperate to try it.” Julius had his nose over the bacon.

“This is how you had gullet in Hayston, isn’t it? I feel like a lord, maybe a pauper lord, but the thought of having to go back to those stews. I now know why you were a prickly thing when we first met.”

He could only laugh at that, laughing more, watching Julius smell an orange. He squeezed it and the juice went into his eyes. “Bollocks this infernal thing!” he swore, then engulfed it instantly.

Julius stared in stupidity at the olive, nearly cracked a tooth on its pit as Edmund laughed louder.

“You are enjoying yourself, me here, the complete rube. Should we get our brothers after we dine?”

“Let them sleep off their ale and wonder what happened to us. We will look at the shops, look at some better wares.

There has to be a place to get you a suitable dirk, so you can throw that cheap one you have on your belt away.” Edmund went on as Julius’s eyes grew wide.

“Don’t despair, the prices will be affordable. You will have plenty for your new guild pin, and this three-story skinny I keep hearing Osmond gloat about.”

“I even offer my help in helping you learn your way. You will need to learn how to keep a ledger, manage your coin, and refine your brother.”

“You want to be our partner?” Julius’s eyes were welling.

“I won’t commit that far.” Edmund chuckled and pointed to him firmly. “Being a proprietor is hard work, harder than wrestling with a bunch of kids stealing apples.”

Julius laughed at him. “I like this word, ‘proprietor’. Julius the proprietor. It sounds important.”

Edmund led Julius out of the brothel’s tavern, into the cobbled street that hugged the Lonoke harbour. “You picked a good location for quarters. This is Wharf Street, a place my uncle Argyle bragged about once.”

“He has doublets, all his leathers, velvet cloaks, and furs sent from here to Hayston. This is where the Guild finds their outlandish attire.”

“Are you going to tell me about every rock and bird here, too? Let’s knock on a few doors and witness it with our own eyes,” Julius mocked him.

The street had many travellers. He noticed many wearing the marks of Raines, white and purple, then rich yellows trimmed in red from Ethelly.

It was the busiest place he had ever been in; even the commerce in Hayston paled to this. He was excited as he pointed to Julius as they wove through the crowds into one of the merchant houses.

The place was too elegant for the local commoners. Edmund asked Julius to touch the rich wool made from the Lonoke goat, a wool that had the softness of cotton and the warmth without the itch while showing him a cloak made from the long-haired rabbit they bred here.

Julius pulled his pointed beard, then laughed at him for acting like a giddy child.

“This is rich, too many falcons for a doublet made of this,” Julius said, admiring it. “I can see why this taste excites you. Have you ever owned such garments?”

“Not of this elegance,” he answered. “Only the lords of Hayston wear these. I have admired my uncle’s garments since I was five.”

“This uncle, why do you obsess over him so? You seem to favour him over your father.”

“Truitt Parsons is a good man, stoic and firm. I witnessed many a day we shared, where only three words came out of his mouth, two being grunts.

He has an odd way of affection, and he’s guarded with his reputation. He wasn’t as easy as our mother, who was very excited about life. The two were an odd match.”

“Your brother shares a different outlook,” Julius said as they entered a more modest establishment. “Does he even like him?”

Edmund smirked. “I don’t think he will ever be able to like our father; the two haven’t spoken out of courtesy in five years. Harwin admires him, don’t get me wrong, but Truitt is a frigid man,” Edmund explained while looking through some plush wools.

“He will ask you a question, you answer it, and he either nods or grimaces. We always had a bed, plenty of food, and fine clothes. He could get us a station anywhere as long as we didn’t embarrass him.”

“My uncle, on the other hand, is a born merchant. Every word is a compliment, and every compliment is a future opportunity for him.” Edmund thought about his words, then laughed.

“He will always make you feel like everything you do is important, whether it’s increasing holds within the counting houses or mucking the stables. Every man likes to hear kind words, whether it’s honesty or winded flattery, he would often tell me.”

Julius was looking at tunics as Edmund was approached by an eager merchant. “I see you two are in search of good wares. You must be merchants visiting our great city.”

“I am Bjorg Finney, and this is a respected place. My father opened it and now he has passed it on to me. What can I do for you?”

The man must have said this a thousand times as it rolled off his tongue without effort.

He had a merchant’s smile under an eager disposition to separate your coin from your purse, but he did well to hide the disappointment that they must have displayed at the moment.

“We are from Breeston,” Edmund replied, smiling. “We are looking for something of better quality, but not to the tune of several falcons. Can you show us your lowest and move on from there?”

The merchant looked long at their meagre wares, showing a bit of a smirk. “I think I may have a few things. I see you are wearing poor-quality wool. I don’t mean to offend, but my lowest tunic here is twelve oaks.”

The merchant’s face looked ready to abandon them, as another man entered dressed much finer than them.

“And what is that man wearing?” Julius asked while observing the other customer.

“It is a mix of good highland wool, a common garment we wear here in Lonoke. If you don’t mind, let me inquire with this other gentleman and I will return to give you a better audience.”

Bjorg scurried to the other man, who appeared to be a customer he was familiar with. The man was holding a fine doublet in crimson and black, and the merchant was filling his head full of compliments.

“I think we are in over our coin,” Julius whispered to him. “This man believes we are poor. I didn’t leave with much silver, anyway. Where shall we go now?”

“Don’t worry, I wanted to let you watch this man for a while. Do you see how he acts? This is how you can act sometimes when you’re aggressive,” Edmund mentioned to Julius like a master to his apprentice.

“You’re born with this same quality. The only thing separating you from him is a nicer set of wool.”

“I’m not sure if you are complimenting me, or shaming me at this moment, Edmund.”

“I want to show you something. Try not to laugh at me like I’ve lost my wits.” Edmund says with a smirk. I’m about to wipe the boredom from this merchant’s face, and he will begin kissing our arse.

Bjorg returned and resumed his uninterested tone. “I know a place, a few streets back, that peddles in commoner garments.

“We are not interested in that. I would like to know what you have that’s my friend’s size?” Edmund quickly cuts him off.

“I have many his size. It is a common size, look, I don’t want to waste your time. I can outfit him, but we are talking forty silvers minimum. I don’t mean to offend, but I don’t want to waste my time either.”

“Let’s get out of here, Edmund, the man thinks we are paupers.”

“Do you accept script from Raines Bank?” Edmund asks, then pulling from his purse, a folded parchment of printed notes as the merchant nodded in disbelief, his eyes growing as he glared at them. “Good, I am happy now that you can provide us with ample attention.”

The merchant apologized profusely and then scurried behind a curtain along the back wall.

“What are you doing? I don’t need these things,” Julius protested.

“I will buy this for you, a gift. If you don’t like them, then sell them back in Breeston; it will fetch good coin and you can pay me back if you feel like it.”

“I think you may still be ill from your fever, brother,” Julius added while looking puzzled at him.

“Just stand, and when we’re done, we will find you some proper leathers.”

Bjorg had eight or nine doublets and some breeches in a matching fashion, along with leggings. Julius tried each one on as Edmund looked and whispered yes or no to the merchant.

Julius groaned after each change of wares, cursing Edmund as Bjorg scampered back to get more garments.

Edmund then picked one, a nice dark blue, with black breeches and leggings of white and grey made from the highland wool. He then chose another, a nice white doublet trimmed in black around the sleeves and collar.

The pile was richer, made from goat wool, a native creature from Dietrich that the nobles from Hayston wore. Julius slid it over a thin, white linen tunic Edmund had asked for. The breeches were black and hugged his legs tightly around the ankles.

“How does he look, Bjorg?” Edmund asked the merchant.

“Like a little lordling. The women will perspire in vivid dreams of matrimony, and the fathers will be eager to give them away without protest.”

“I couldn’t add another word more,” Edmund replied, smiling. “Do you have a looking glass?” The merchant nodded and ran behind the curtain.

“Are you amusing yourself, a folly to get back at me from our day in the wards?” Julius asked.

“No, my good friend, this is needed if you plan on running an establishment.”

Julius pulled at his goatee again as Bjorn produced the looking glass. It was obvious to Edmund that Julius had never seen one.

He had wondered if Julius had ever seen his reflection other than in a street puddle. “Look at yourself, tell me what you see?” Edmund asked. “Bjorg, can you see if you can put something together for me?”

“At once, my lord.”

“I look like a Jiminy Cockqueen in this, Edmund.” Julius’s eyes were wide. He wasn’t sure what to say. “I look like a rolling dandy from Old Street.”

“This is what I wore in Hayston to noble gatherings if I was invited. I tried to bring simple things when we came to Breeston.”

“Even Harwin wore similar garments at these dinners. He never cared for them, being comfortable in a hemp tunic and leathers, but this fits you well.”

“You want us to wear these things back in Breeston?”

“Indeed, and wear them tonight. You will thank me for it one day. I won’t accept no for an answer,” Edmund told him in a serious tone. “I expect you to dine with these on, and try your best not to spill ale all over it, please. The strumpet you choose tonight will beg you to take her with you, offering her newfound virginity to keep you warm at night.”

Julius was pondering while looking at his reflection in admiration, ignoring the jape while the merchant then brought something Edmund decided on, a rich, pleated black doublet, trimmed in grey with blue breeches and black leggings.

He also was fitted with a blue one embroidered in white with black breeches and white leggings. He spied two black cloaks for him and his friend, a soft cashmere with its collar and cuffs trimmed in white rabbit fur.

Edmund paid the merchant with the printed script without letting Julius aware of the costs, while Bjorg had buried him in compliments.

He requested their purchases be sent to the brothel they quartered at, as the merchant promised to deliver them himself, leaving his establishment wearing the best garments Edmund had picked out for them.

The pair then went to a cobbler, where he bought Julius two pairs of calfskin boots, dyed black, and demanded he tosses his old ones away when they went back to Breeston.

He picked out a pair of belts, several lambskin jerkins, and two for himself, writing another script while Julius protested the entire time.

Next, he took him to the armoury, bought him a good gambeson, and a vest of boiled, studded leather, writing another script as he bought himself a good set of bracers.

They ended the afternoon, buying Julius a good dirk, and him a good stabbing sword, each with a nice scabbard. He remarked to Julius that he shouldn’t get a hint of stink in these leathers as Julius rolled his eyes at the jape, sending everything they didn’t wear back to their quarters as they walked along the cobbles.

Edmund was pointing out to Julius the finely dressed women. Admiring the rich, velvet gowns they wore as Julius became lost, smelling their perfumes when they walked by him. A few even threw flirts their way, as Julius smiled at them while pulling on his point.

“Maybe we should find something for Osmond?” Edmund hinted.

“Osmond? He would look like a boar in a gown,” Julius laughed aloud. “You must have spent many falcons. What is this printed parchment you keep giving these merchants?”

“It’s a script from Raines Bank, a way of bringing coin without the weight and something a thief can’t read or know what to do with,” Edmund replied in a calm tone.

“I think we should go back to the others. They are perhaps angry with us by now. It is near time for evening horns.” he replied as Julius offered to repay him while he refused.

“Tomorrow, we should take our gold and exchange them for script, just keeping enough silver for the journey.” he suggested as Julius gave him a queer look.”

“I keep my coin on me, thank you,” Julius says.

Japing among themselves as they walked back through the sea of people, they had lost track of the day while the evening was approaching, the lamps were being lit, which fascinated Julius with their soft glare.

“I was told the oil is from a large fish. I can’t believe it.” His friend’s ignorance of other places made him smile, as a pair of young girls wearing fine dresses near their age giggled at him, overhearing his enthusiasm while their male escorts looked at them as fools.

“We should stay, maybe I could get a proper woman here,” Julius boasted as they crossed the streets to enter the Sultry Madame.

“You’ll have to give up a dowry for one of their hands,” Edmund replied while looking inside the tavern for his brother. “The fathers of those maidens don’t give away their daughters out of love alone.”

“Did your father ever think of finding you one?” Julius asked, pulling his point.

“He would have in time, a fourth or fifth daughter of a lord, maybe. Me being a Panhead as they remind us, didn’t provide the lustre many nobles craved.”

“If I were trueborn, then they would have given him a dowry. He tried several times for Harwin, to temper his aloof pursuits, as my father put it. I could go on for hours at that folly.”

Edmund then spotted his brother with Osmond — they looked well ahead of them in rounds. When his brother laid eyes on him, the laughter boomed off the walls of the Sultry Madame. “What have you done to him, Edmund?” Harwin shouted.

“You look like one of those wankers on Old Street. The ward boss down there, what’s that pucker hole’s name?” Osmond was scratching his beard, thinking aloud.

“Thad Griffin,” Julius answered in a deflated tone. “I know. Edmund got carried away, wasted coin, but you should have seen how many beautiful girls looked our way.”

“I’m sure you got a few from the lads as well,” Osmond scoffed.

“Well, we were thinking of outfitting you, when we work at the inn,” Julius mentioned, smiling.

“You can bugger off. I’m wearing my blacks,” Osmond barked out while finishing his horn. “Then I’m going upstairs after I eat and get an ample woman while you two sit and saunter like a pair of rolling dandies.”

Harwin laughed at the slight. “I knew you two were doing something foolish when folks showed up with all those burlap bags. What did you spend, Edmund?”

“Now you are giving me lectures about the way I handle coin? I am investing in some future endeavours,” Edmund said arrogantly.

“I told you I could get him to partner with you, Osmond.” Harwin downed a horn.

“You never informed me. I thought it was best if I found a direction,” Edmund corrected him.

“I appreciate what you did, Harwin, but after seeing Julius here.” Osmond shook his head. “What is this direction, Edmund? We can’t buy a three-story skinny with you two looking like plumed peacocks like those jack rollers down at Raines Bank.”

“I’m looking past the back of the horn, my bald brother. I’ll procure us a place on Old Street. We will be renting rooms to those wankers.” Edmund then patted Julius on the back. “If we are going to do it—”

Osmond boomed out a red-faced laugh, interrupting him. The tavern girl thought he was choking when she brought them a loaf of barley bread with butter. “Is he dying?” she asked.

“He’s always this ugly after a horn or two,” Harwin replied. “You have any capons? He likes them. If you have any rabbit, I would like one of those.”

“Brother.” Julius sat, befuddled. “It will cost us two hundred falcons to find a place there. I’m not about getting busted and borrowing money for such a huge risk. I got a lot of sand, but you are speaking delusionally.”

“When we get back, I will begin looking,” Edmund boasted. “You give me a month, and if I fail to find something, then you can settle for your skinny along the Old Wall.”

“Harwin, talk sense to him,” Julius demanded. “He has been crazy. I think he is still feeling ill.”

“I never doubt my little brother, when he has this streak of arrogance in him,” Harwin remarked with a chuckle then sipping on a horn. “He always was brilliant with his coin.”

The smell of cooked meat arrived interrupting the banter. Osmond dived into his capon like a hound. Julius had a skewer of lamb, eating it hunched over his plate, careful not to spill it on his fancy doublet.

Edmund nibbled on bread and butter. His digestion was not ready for such heavy foods. Before they finished another horn, Osmond wiped off his hands, then ran like an impatient child upstairs. Harwin was not far behind, abandoning them in a rush for some adolescent folly.

“You are waiting on me?” Edmund asked Julius. “You run up there, too. I don’t need you watching over me any longer, brother, I am fine enough to be on my own.”

“You are not coming along?” Julius asked, confused. “I assume you like women, and you are well enough for a good romp.”

“I do, but I never was one for this sort of courtship,” he admitted

“Courting, you need not use such words with these women,” Julius replies as if he had lost his wits.

Edmund laughed. “I am not being a prude.” He looked at his friend.

“I’m not afraid of women like my brother says I am. I’ve laid with one before, even if he says that I am lying. I will retire to our room, ponder our return home, then lie down and reflect on this day.”

“Edmund, thank you for the clothes. It isn’t to my taste, but I won’t dishonour you by selling them. I will keep them, wear them on special days.” He then pulled his point.

“By the way, we will be late. I apologize ahead of ourselves upon our return. I know we’re going to wake you,” his friend said with a devious smile.

A grin appeared on his face while watching his friend stroll up the stairs to the upper rooms. He even bowed to a man wearing similar wool. He’s grafting toward it already.

Finishing the last of his horn, he left the tavern, climbing the stairs to where their quarters were, entering, then lighting a few sconces to see better.

He had a huge thirst and drank water, removing his new clothes and standing in his linen undergarments when he heard a knock on the door.

Edmund thought that Osmond or Harwin had forgotten their coin purse. What he didn’t expect was a hooded Camille on the other side of that door when he pushed it open.

Her face wasn’t stern or hateful this time. She was wearing a grey cloak to conceal her appearance, looking like a slim man, carrying a long object wrapped in linen. He stood, confused about what to do. He looked to see if she had a dirk in her hand.

“Will you let me in? You look like you can see well enough.”

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