* * *
Cor hadn’t really meant to sleep, and he awoke to sounds of activity below. He stood, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and made certain Soulmourn was belted securely, allowing his hand to linger on the gleaming hilt. He put most of his belongings in the chest, including Rena’s journal and his two sacks of gold, which were a bit lighter than when he left Sanctum. Cor added no small sum of gold to the pouch at his waist, and then closed the chest’s lid; it had no lock, but he would rectify that soon.
Making sure his cloak was quite secure and the hood keeping his face in as much shadow as possible, Cor left his room, closing and locking the door behind him. He walked to the end of the hall and stood at the top of the stair, looking down upon a gay scene in the main room. The room was completely full of merchants, soldiers and travelers, eating, drinking and sharing stories of various types, while serving girls carried platters of food about the room. A number of women wearing clothing that left little to the imagination mingled solicitously amongst the patrons, clearly attracted to those purchasing the more expensive food and drink. Other figures sat furtively in various corners, interacting with no one, but watching everyone. Cor knew his appearance did not go unnoticed.
Cor’s stomach grumbled with the smell of meat and spices that filled the room, and he descended the stair, looking for an empty seat, preferably at a less populated table. This proved no easy task however, and Cor quickly decided to enter the street instead. He had slept for several hours, as the sun was just beginning to set, casting a pink glow over the city streets. The bustle was clearly gone as all manners of business were being concluded for the day, and Cor knew he had little time if he wanted to accomplish either of his errands tonight.
Skilled tradesmen populated this section of the outer city, and Cor entered the first smithy he found. The blacksmith’s assistant inside explained that in a city this large, the smiths specialized in specific goods and pointed him in the right direction. Cor entered a locksmith’s shop just as the man prepared to close. He took little of the man’s time, purchasing the most expensive lock that would fit the chest in his room, and as usual, Cor did not bother to negotiate the price. By the time he left and found the recommended armor smith, the shop had closed, and though he was still inside, the smith refused to reopen. Cor returned to the inn, the sun dipping below the horizon, and returned to his room. Finding everything in order, he fitted the padlock to the chest and dropped the iron key into his pocket with his room key.
By now, Cor hungered mightily, and he knew he would simply have to brave the main room. It had cleared out a bit; most of the patrons, having finished eating had moved on to the taverns or other amusements, and Cor had little trouble finding a table where he could sit alone. A girl about his age brought him a rich platter of steaming beef and potatoes that had been fried in some sort of oil with a pint of ale. He made certain not to lift his face to hers, but Cor knew she saw the gray color of his hands. He watched her with keen interest as she receded into the kitchen.
Cor came to the conclusion that ale was perhaps the vilest liquid he’d ever had the misfortune of drinking, but the meal itself was phenomenal compared to his own meager cooking. He gorged himself, sighing deeply when finished, and he leaned back to simply enjoy not traveling. The girl returned, and he paid for his meal with both silver and thanks, allowing his eye to linger on her figure.
As the girl turned to serve other patrons, a feminine form slipped into the chair next to him, sliding it closer. She was at least six inches shorter than he, although while sitting the disparity was less noticeable. She had long dark hair and green eyes, a color that was very uncommon among Western women and added to her interesting assets. Her body was supple and firm, and her satin clothing provided some modesty, while at the same time making her offer plain.
“A man shouldn’t be alone,” she said, “especially when fine company is available.”
“I don’t want any company,” Cor said, staring straight ahead.
“Oh, I doubt that’s true,” she said, laying her hand on his arm. “You see, I was watching you. I saw the way you looked at the girl, but I promise you she has little to offer compared to me.”
“You’re a harlot,” Cor said simply, at which she laughed heartily; he did not expect such a reaction.
“Yes I am. And I’m sure a fighting man such as yourself has plenty of experience with women such as me,” this she said, allowing her hand to trail down from his arm and laid one finger on the pommel of his sword.
“Or perhaps not; I’d say you’re barely a man. Tell me, how many men have you killed?” she asked, her hand moving lower, and Cor was acutely aware of her closeness.
“None today. I’d prefer it if you leave me alone,” Cor said, hoping to sound ominous. She leaned forward so that her mouth was near his ear, despite the hood.
“I don’t think you would. Take me upstairs, and for what you paid for your room, I will be yours for the night. I’m worth more than any ten serving wenches in this inn.”
Cor, with no experience in these matters, was unprepared for the strength of the feelings this woman evoked within him. He allowed her to lead him upstairs to his room, and she locked the door behind them. She was concerned neither for his lack of experience, nor the pallor of his skin. She loved him and taught him how to love. Throughout this night, Cor understood Rael’s hatred of women, and that it was derived from a fear of them. Cor now understood how easily a woman could enslave a man’s soul.
21.