Looks like trouble.
Such was the thought Ras Talion had upon seeing the two women who barred his path.
Prouss was a commercial hub and the second-largest city in the Argyll Empire. Even in the dead of night, the main street was rich with the sounds of foreign merchants hawking their wares and mercenaries seeking a temporary respite. But step just a stone’s throw away, and the city’s atmosphere shifted. An assortment of suggestive nameplates broke through the gloom, and the heavy scent of perfume assaulted the senses. Windows bathed in the light of red lamps allowed a peek into all sorts of scandalous scenes.
These were the pleasure-houses, where ladies of the night marketed their goods.
The finest prostitutes in all the realm gathered there, and men were treated to a first-class service…so long as they could pay for it. Decent, well-meaning citizens gave the district a wide berth, but Ras was neither decent nor well-meaning. The moment he set foot within the district’s borders, a pair of unfamiliar women accosted him.
The first to speak was the taller of the two, a woman with black hair.
“Sir Ras Talion Veredica, I presume?”
A piercing gaze lent weight to her forceful words. She looked young, about twenty-two or twenty-three if Ras had to guess, and was dressed in an inconspicuous long, ratty coat, beneath which Ras glimpsed the telltale glint of a well-kept metal breastplate. A bulge in the cloth gave away the rough shape of a sword secured at her hip.
This woman was undoubtedly an aura knight—and a noble besides.
“Apologies,” said Ras curtly. “I’ve already reserved a girl for tonight. Perhaps we can get acquainted some other time?”
“Wha—?!” the girl bellowed, clearly offended by Ras’s presumption. She shot him a rotten glare, but the man didn’t so much as blink. In this part of the city, a woman had only one reason to approach a man on the street. Ras’s conclusion may not have been correct, but it was perfectly reasonable.
Meanwhile, the second woman, standing a little behind the first, chuckled, apparently finding humor in Ras’s mean-spirited taunt.
This woman was dressed similarly to the first, in a long, ash-gray coat, but she also wore a hood, so Ras couldn’t get a good look at her face. Only a few strands of silver hair caught his eye; that hair color was a rare sight in this part of the world.
“Do we look like a couple of whores to you?!” the first woman roared.
Ras snorted. “Well, who else would approach a man here? This isn’t exactly the noble quarter.”
“Believe you me, I know. But we’ve heard you’re a difficult man to find anywhere else.”
“…Says who?”
Ras furrowed his brow. There were few reasons someone would be looking for him, and not many of them were good reasons. The raven-haired woman seemed to realize she’d said too much, and she swiftly clammed up. Meanwhile, the second woman stepped forward.
“You’re quite the household name, Ras Talion. People say you practically live in these brothels.”
“That they do.”
“And they also say,” the silver-haired woman went on, “that that’s not enough for you. That you woo the ordinary maidens of this city as well, chaste and wedded alike. That’s why they call you ‘the Stallion.’”
“You’ve done your research,” said Ras, in genuine surprise.
The hooded woman smiled. “The rumors are true, then?”
“They’re not entirely without merit.”
“Hmm. In that case, I wonder if the rest is true? They say your lover lost her life in the troubles two years back.”
“What’s it to you? Come to warm my bed in her place?”
Ras’s provocation failed to stoke the silver-haired woman’s ire. Instead, she grinned.
“If that is the compensation you require,” she said, “it can be arranged.”
“…What do you mean by compensation?”
“We have a job for you, Ras Talion.”
“What kind of job?”
“That will take some time to explain,” the silver-haired woman said. “Would you care to join us?”
“I already told you. I have business. Brothel business.”
Ras cut the conversation short and made to take his leave, but the raven-haired woman blocked his path.
“Not so fast, Ras Talion. My lady has requested an audience with you. It would be wise to hear what she has to say.”
“Would it, now? Well, I don’t care.”
“…What?”
The raven-haired woman had clearly not been expecting such a blunt refusal. As she stood there in shock, Ras went on.
“I told you, I’m busy. If this business of yours is really worth bothering me about, then tell Auriol he can come and meet me in person.”
“…?!”
The raven-haired warrior stiffened, and her hand flew to her waist. That reaction told Ras all he needed to know. His hunch was correct: These two women were in the employ of Auriol Ref Argenteia—the crown prince of their nation.
“How did you know I work for His Highness?” the raven-haired woman asked, her voice aquiver.
“A simple deduction,” replied Ras with a smirk. “First, your form. Ready to step in and defend your charge at a moment’s notice. It’s the exact stance they teach at the imperial barracks.”
Just for a moment, the raven-haired woman dropped her gaze and cursed under her breath.
“But more importantly, your sword,” Ras continued. “You don’t see rapiers like that outside Kidea. I only know of one woman in the Imperial Guard who trained in the southern continent, and that’s the daughter of the Aluarche family, Lady Kanalayka. News of your appointment to Auriol’s personal guard hasn’t escaped us all the way out here in Prouss, you know.”
The raven-haired woman, Kanalayka Aluarche, huffed in admiration. “I think I’m starting to see why His Highness is so interested in you,” she said, before drawing her sword from its sheath. The blade was light gray and delicately thin, and she leveled its tip square at Ras’s throat.
“Does this interest involve killing me?” asked Ras, unperturbed.
“No. But His Highness ordered me to bring you in by any means necessary.”
There wasn’t a whit of levity to be found across her stony features. This woman, it seemed, was determined to carry out her master’s orders to the letter.
Ras sighed deeply. “They say not a single person in the Imperial Guard has ever bested Lady Kanalayka in a spar,” he said. “Is that true?”
His opponent was a legate of the Imperial Guard, and Ras was completely unarmed. The backstreets of the pleasure quarter were not deserted, either, but nobody stepped up to defend Ras. Instead, they all stopped and stared, waiting to see what would happen.
Kanalayka kept her sword level and backed Ras into a corner, blocking the exit and preventing the curious citizens from getting caught up in what was to come. It was a courteous, noble act, but it left one very important route wide open.
“What’s the matter? Are you scared?” she asked. “You can always come in peace, if you prefer.”
Ras grinned. “I have a better idea.”
“Do you, now? It had better not involve running. There’s nowhere to go.”
Kanalayka was beginning to lose her patience. Ras turned and looked back over his shoulder. The only thing there was a brick wall, with a glass window that offered a dirt-caked view into a tavern bustling with rowdy guests.
“Isn’t there?”
With that, Ras spun, driving his elbow into the glass and shattering it. In the same fluid motion, he dove into the building. His sudden appearance amid a shower of broken glass startled the patrons, and they all screamed.
Kanalayka was aghast. For all her rigid training at the imperial barracks, she’d never encountered a tactic like this. Meanwhile, Ras seized the opportunity to escape deeper into the crowd, hoping to throw the imperial guardswoman off his trail. His dramatic entrance, however, drew the attention of the tavern’s stocky landlady.