Eye of the Goddess Page 3

  But still, she wasn't giving up the best looking man in the tavern over some guilt trip. Takaran warriors didn't do guilt. The dancer was studying her, giving every indication that she realized Tara was embarrassed. She would probably try to use that to get the man back, but Tara would have none of that.

  "Run!" she shouted and the dancer scrambled away on hands and knees into the laughing crowd.

  "You won, does that make me the spoils?" Ronus asked.

  "Yes, and to the victor goes the spoils, my lord," she said.

  Chapter 4

  Ronus pulled her back into his lap. Tara got a mischievous look, and then ripped open his shirt. The expensive buttons flew in every direction. She laughed at his annoyance as her hands caressed the smooth skin of his powerful chest. She began kissing and nibbling at his neck and ears.

  "Why don't you buy me an ale," Tara suggested between kisses. "Kissing makes me thirsty."

  When her ale arrived Tara took a big swallow and sighed happily, "Cool ale and fiery men, what more could a woman ask for?"

  The men at the table laughed and joined her, taking big swallows. She then asked Ronus to tell her about himself. He told her that he was the wing commander for the other men and that they were mercenaries. They were currently without an employer, but they rarely went long without work.

  "Sounds like a good life," Tara said, though not really that impressed with dragon riders in general. In her mind, they stayed high above the fray, so safe from danger. Where was the glory in that? But he seemed so proud to talk about himself. Keep him happy, and he'd be more than happy to give her anything she wanted. "Is it all hit and fly from above? Or do you ever get to go toe-to-toe?"

  "Not much, but occasionally," Ronus said. "But what about you? I take it you are a warrior as well."

  "Some might be so bold as say that," she said. She gave him a roguish smile, wondering if she should confess to being a pirate captain. At first she thought not, then changed her mind with a wicked smile. "I'm..."

  A crash interrupted her and she slanted an annoyed glance over her shoulder to the source two tables away. Ciara was walking over to her as the half-orc and a full-blooded orc circled each other.

  "It would seem that they are fighting over me," Ciara said, shrugging guiltily. "I seem to have promised to marry the winner."

  "Marry?"

  "Not the best idea, huh?"

  "Gods, you really shouldn't be let out without adult supervision," Tara laughed. "Come on, join us."

  "Don't mind if I do," she said and jumped into one of the other men's lap. "Are you going to buy me an ale or just stare?"

  He quickly offered his ale and ordered two more, but before the ales arrived the two big warriors started pounding at each other with a vengeance. Soon they were surrounded by shouting patrons betting on the outcome. Before long, more arguments broke out and soon there was a free-for-all.

  A thrown chair grazed the side of Ronus' head and he jumped up in a rage, dumping Tara on her butt. She threw her half-empty mug at him as he ran to join the fight. Tara started pulling herself up when the blonde dancer ran over and hit her over the head with a chair. She collapsed in a pain-filled daze. Ciara jumped up and hit the dancer with a right uppercut, laying her out beside Tara. Then Ciara was lifted up by some man and thrown across the room to land on top of a table.

  Getting up slowly, Ciara identified her assailant and started heading his way through the fight. She came up behind him and picked up a chair. Swinging the chair with all her strength, she shattered it across his back. He turned and smiled at her.

  "Shit, shit, shit!" she cried, backpedaling swiftly. But he lurched forward and grabbed hold of both her arms in a viselike grip. "Let go you bastard, or else."

  "Or else what? Are you going to stamp your little foot and throw a tantrum?" he laughed.

  "No, I'm going to make you scream like a gut-stuck goblin," she said and kneed him in the groin. He didn't scream, but he didn't remain standing either. "Stupid dog, let's see how many puppies you have after that."

  A hand grabbed her left shoulder from the rear. Ciara turned and punched Tara in the nose. Tara fell straight back onto her butt again. Ciara rushed to her side and started apologizing. Tara alternated between rubbing the bump on her head and her sore nose.

  "Let's get out of here," Tara said. "Suddenly, I'm not having any fun."

  "Are you sure? This is a great place," she said, glancing around with bright eyes.

  The distinct sound of swords crossing and men dying came to them. It was no longer a simple brawl.

  "I'm sure, but I don't like what's happening," Tara said as she was helped up. "Follow me."

  Tara led the way towards the front door. They both had to fight their way through the melee. City Guardsmen entered when they neared the door. They heard one order, the building surrounded. That told Tara that there would be too many to even consider fighting their way through.

  Not wanting to be arrested again, Tara started looking around for a way out. Several weeks back she had been caught in a similar situation and was hauled in. At the time she was even drunker than she was now and barely coherent. She had made the mistake of trying to fight her way through the Guardsmen then. She didn't get far. The next morning she woke up in jail. Then she was taken before a magistrate and sentenced to ten stripes or a heavy fine. She definitely didn't want to be tied to a post and whipped, so she paid the fine. Or most of it. Unfortunately, she didn't have enough money on her to buy her way out of all of them. So before she was released, she was publicly stripped and given two lashes of the whip.

  "Upstairs," Tara said and ducked under a flying chair.

  She grabbed her friend's hand and half-dragged Ciara to the stairway. The area before the bar was momentarily clear so they had an easy time of it.

  The stairway was defended by one of the bouncers. When they asked to pass, he looked them over and smiled. He pulled out a pair of leather cords and ordered them to submit. Tara looked back and estimated at least twenty Guardsmen had already pushed their way in. She held up her wrists to be bound to Ciara's amazement. But when the guard moved to tie her wrists, she dropped low and spun. Her kick snapped his left knee and he fell screaming.

  "Godless bastard, you're lucky all I did was break one of your legs," she growled.

  Both women made an extra effort to step on him as they started up the stairs. The stairway was narrow and dark, but there weren't any more defenders. When she reached the second floor, Tara looked both ways before heading right. They opened the window at the end of the hallway only to find the City Guard thick around the three sides of the building the tavern and brothel occupied.

  "Shit, we're trapped," Ciara said. "I hate getting arrested. In Amana they throw the women in with the men. Believe me, that is pure hell."

  Tara felt the blood drain from her face at the thought. "Yeah. Been there. Don't want to go back."

  Ciara was older and had been arrested many more times than Tara. Tara had learned to trust Ciara's warnings about such things, since she had never been arrested in Amana.

  "We're not caught yet," Tara said. "Come on."

  Ciara followed Tara back to the stairway and up to the next level. Again Tara went to the window at the end of the hallway and looked out. But instead of looking down, she looked up this time. She studied the situation a moment while Ciara nervously watched their rear.

  "In there," Tara said, indicating a closed door.

  The door was locked, so they kicked it in. Inside, they found a naked man holding a sword at the ready and a pretty brunette hiding behind him.

  "Put that away," Tara said, heading for the window. "We're just trying to escape the Guardsmen raiding the place."

  "In that case, why don't you just drop your weapons," he said and reached over to a chair. He picked up his Guard uniform and smiled. Tara and Ciara looked at each other wide-eyed. "You’re both under arrest."

  "This has not been our day," Tara said.

  "I said dr
op your weapons. Now," the Guardsman ordered.

  They looked at him and then at each other, "Naw."

  Pulling their swords, Tara ran to one side and Ciara to the other. No matter who he engaged, he would expose his back to the other's attack. The prostitute began to cry, begging to be spared and promising not to say anything. He turned and backhanded her brutally.

  Tara took that moment to attack and Ciara quickly followed suit. They found him to be an average swordsman, no match for either of them. They gave him several opportunities to surrender, but he refused them all.

  Tara parried a thrust at her heart, spun and kicked his wrist. The guardsman's sword flew across the room. And Ciara thrust her blade through his heart.

  "You killed him!" Tara cried. "Why did you kill him?"

  "He was trying to kill us," she said, shrugging. "Since when are you squeamish?"

  Tara felt defensiveness welling up. Since joining the pirates she'd been forced to adopt a new set of morals and standards. Killing was the rule, not the exception. Her own people were known to be pretty bloodthirsty, as well. Still, she didn't believe in wanton killing.

  "I'm not, it's just killing a guardsman is not wise," she said.

  "What about her?" Ciara said, indicating the terrified girl cowering against the wall.

  "Forget her," Tara said. "I don't kill defenseless people."

  Opening a window, Tara studied the side of the building and roof above. With Ciara holding her belt, Tara stood in the window and reached for the ledge above her. But it was just a handbreadth beyond her reach.

  "Let go of my belt," she said as she crouched low.

  "Be careful, we're three stor...Tara!"

  Tara jumped with all her strength for the ledge. She easily made it, but found hanging on much more difficult. She just couldn't seem to get a firm enough hold on the ledge, but then she felt Ciara's hands steadying her feet and pushing her up. Tara struggled up onto the ledge.

  The ledge was actually the edge of the rooftop beer garden. There was a thick stone balustrade one foot in. Tara wrapped her legs around one of the heavy stone posts and took off her belt. She then lowered the belt to Ciara's waiting hands. As Ciara pulled herself out of the window and hung from the belt, Tara grunted from the effort. She was unable to pull her friend up.

  "Climb...I can't...pull," Tara gasped.

  Ciara began to slowly pull herself up the belt. Suddenly, she felt hands on her feet and looked down to see the prostitute.

  "Climb," she said. "I'll try and help. And thank you for not killing me."

  With the girl pushing on Ciara's feet, she climbed up quickly. And once Ciara's hands were firmly on the ledge, Tara reached over and grabbed the elfmaid's belt, pulling her the rest of the way up. Ciara hugged the balustrade tightly for a second. Then she peeked over the ledge at the girl below.

  "Thanks."

  Climbing over the rail, they sat and leaned against it, laughing nervously. Tara finally looked around and discovered their side of the deck was empty. Men and women laughed, sang, and drank merrily on the other end. Potted trees and shrubs were everywhere, giving the illusion of being on the ground and of privacy.

  "Let's get out of here before guardsmen come up," Tara said.

  She led the way through the beer garden and down the wooden stairs on that side. They found guardsmen in the street below, but they were ignoring them for the moment. They only had eyes for the actual tavern on the ground floor. Tara tried to act calm and sober, as if she had no concerns in the world. She hooked arms with Ciara and headed down the dark, twisting street.

  Her heart didn't stop thundering until she was three streets over, and had turned twice down new streets. They began to giggle uncontrollably.

  "Well, that went well," Ciara said.

  "I enjoyed it, at least," she said. "Bet you loved dangling on the end of my belt."

  "Aaaagh! My feet are still tingling! I told you I don't like heights."

  "I know, but you didn't hesitate, either."

  "I don't like dying even more." Ciara sighed wearily. "Where are we?"

  The street was clear except for one old man leading an ox pulling a two wheel cart full of trash. As he came up to them, he glanced their way with a look of disapproval and continued on. A short ways down the ox stopped and refused to move. Soon the old man was beating and cursing it. "Lazy ox," he said over and over.

  They watched him a while. Then Ciara turned to Tara and smiled wickedly.

  "What?" Tara asked.

  "Lazy Ox," Ciara said.

  Tara looked at the ox again, and then back at Ciara, "So?"

  "Not that, the Lazy Ox Tavern. Let's go," she said with a wicked smile.

  "I've never heard of it."

  "Never heard of it? I'll have you know it's the seediest, meanest, most dangerous place in Amana. In fact, just the kind of place two delicate flowers of femininity should avoid at all costs," Ciara said.

  "Sounds exciting, let's go," she said. "Is it far?"

  "Tye Quarter, and close to the docks."

  Tara froze. The Lazy Ox Tavern was in the Tye Quarter? Not good. The Tye Quarter was the most rundown, decadent, and dangerous part of the island. Few locals even dared to walk its streets during the day, much less at night.

  "Of course it is," Tara said, rolling her eyes. "Lead the way."

  Chapter 5

  Tara peered nervously into the pitch black alley they were passing. She could hear something, or someone, scuffling menacingly down the alley. What little moonlight passing through the thick cloud cover was blocked by the surrounding structures. The narrow twisting streets of the Tye Quarter were the darkest, most menacing she had ever seen. She could barely make out Ciara’s dark shape just three paces in front of her.

  "Where’s that thrice-damned tavern," Tara whispered, not truly knowing why she felt it necessary to be so quiet.

  The pirate captain bit her lip as she looked around. Her hand tightened around the hilt of her belt knife. Dark, barely there movement danced at the edge of her vision.

  "Around the next corner, I think," Ciara said.

  "Bloody great," Tara said. She was beginning to seriously doubt the woman could find the tavern, or her own butt in broad daylight for that matter. Tara’s mood had taken a turn for the worse after entering the Tye Quarter . "I think this place is haunted."

  "Wait, there’s a torch up ahead."

  They moved quickly into the torchlight. Somehow the act made them feel safer. A faded blue sign with a sitting ox on it hung on the wall next to the torch. The Lazy Ox’s sign was there, but no door. They looked the building over thoroughly. It was a medium-sized tenement, and very run down. There was only one large entrance, tall and wide enough to admit a horse and rider, a good dozen paces from the placard. The upper floors all had thin windows.

  "Where's the tavern door?" she asked. "Did they brick it up?"

  "I don't know," Ciara said.

  "Haven't you been here before?"

  "Well, it was night and I was pretty drunk," she admitted. "And it was a few years ago."

  Tara sighed gustily. Ciara moved over to an especially dark spot and waved her over. Squinting down into the stairwell, they just made out flickers of golden light shining through leather strips hanging from the lintel.

  "There it is," the elfmaid said.

  "It’s about time," Tara said, feeling her tense shoulders relaxing. She silently thanked her goddess, Varissa. "I’m dying of thirst."

  "Me, too," Ciara said.

  Tara started down the stairs with Ciara close on her heels. Pushing through the leather strips, she found herself in a long corridor. They followed the smoky, torch lit passage to a sturdy looking oak door. There was no door handle so Tara pushed. It easily swung open to reveal a fairly large tavern.

  The two women stepped through the door into the brightly lit entrance foyer. The patrons in the dimly lit tavern had a much better view of them. That was a common feature in Amana's seedier taverns. In the rare occasi
ons the local authorities came looking for someone, they would see them first and could slip out one of the back ways.

  Tara and Ciara made quite an impression. When they entered, the men stopped talking, the musicians stopped playing, and the girls stopped dancing. All stared at the two young warrior women making for the bar. Tara took note of the tavern’s reaction and was pleased. She liked to be the center of attention.

  After ordering their ales, they turned around to watch the action. The room was quiet and dimly lit, even for a tavern. Most light centered around the two stages where a pair of women danced: one a drow and the other busty dwarf. From what little they could make out of the crowd, there were few women. And of the women there, only Tara and Ciara wore anything more than high heels and jewelry.

  "I’m in love," Ciara said, clutching her bosom. "Check out that god at the back stage."

  The indicated man was intent on a dancer. Tara couldn’t tell much about his face from that distance, but he had a great body. His hair was long, black, and lustrous. And his dark complexion indicated he was from the desert on the far side of the Takar Mountains.

  But Tara’s attention turned from him to the girl atop the stage. Like her admirer below, she was a dark beauty from the equatorial desert far to their north. All she wore was a pair of black stilettos and a wide silver bracelet around her left ankle. Many cultures used the silver ankle bracelets. It declared the woman a slave. She hated it when something reminded her that she had herself been so low. Tara had been required to dance nude for the pleasure of her masters and their guests. Indeed, she had been forced to do far more and worse acts than dancing nude for their perverted entertainment.

  These girls are all slaves, Tara thought with a grimace.

  Suddenly the Lazy Ox held no charm.

  "Later," Ciara said and headed for her chosen one.

  Tara shook her head and watched her friend wend her way toward the object of her lusts. The elfmaid expertly avoided most of the hands reaching out for her. A few hands managed to grope or swat her butt, which Ciara barely acknowledged.

  Ciara joined the man beside the stage, who was still admiring the beauty from the far off desert. Tara watched her deftly steal his attention, then his interest, from the dancer. The dancer showed a moment of irritation at being so easily dismissed.