Wayfarer (Wanderlust 2)

Chapter Three

Jale had given him very good directions. Tanden stood on the street and looked up at the high-class brothel. Jale had called it the Violet House. It stood out easily on the street, decorated as it was with purple banners and flags. Even the door was painted purple. The large front windows looked into a warm, comfortable looking main room, which was full of people. Patrons and courtesans, Tanden assumed. By the door, a few women stood, calling out to people who walked past and urging them to come inside. They alternated between Morcean and Tallenese.

Tanden smiled at the women as he slipped between them to walk through the door. A purple carpet led up to a desk. "I'm looking for something specific." Tanden casually leaned on the desk, and let his eyes roam over the room as he spoke.

"I'm sure we can cater to your needs, sir." The young man behind the desk was finely dressed in a purple tunic and dark leather vest. He probably didn't own the brothel, but he might have been related to the owners. He certainly wasn't one of the courtesans. "We cater to almost anything."

Tanden turned to him. "I would like to pay for someone tonight, and also reserve him for tomorrow," he explained. "He has to be willing to entertain myself and a friend at the same time. Speaking Teltish would be good but isn't necessary."

The young man's eyes flickered between the list in front of him, and the room. While there were plenty of patrons already mingling, quite a few of the courtesans were relaxing on the couches around the room. The man looked at his list again. "Sir, this friend you mentioned. A woman or a man?"

Tanden smiled. "A man. Does that make a difference?"

"No, sir. I think I have a good companion for you. But he can't speak Teltish... and he is one of our most expensive. Then to also reserve him tomorrow-"

"How much?" Tanden asked.

He consulted the list. "Twenty-thousand weis. For two nights."

"Oh." Twenty-thousand weis was less than Tanden had been expecting. He still wasn't completely comfortable with the currency, but talking to the merchants the day before and all morning meant he had a general idea of how it converted into siyas. "That's not a problem. Can I see him, first? He's a surprise for my friend, I would like to make sure he's the right match."

"Yes, of course, sir. He's just there, near the fireplace. You may go talk to him, if you'd like. His name is Arastarow. You'll just have to pay before taking him upstairs."

Tanden nodded. "Thank you." He made his way across the room, avoiding the other customers and smiling briefly at other courtesans who tried to talk to him. Finally, he reached Arastarow.

He was young, maybe eighteen or nineteen, and he sprawled across the sofa near the fireplace, somehow managing to look both comfortable and elegant. His dark hair was loose around his shoulders, with a few braids here and there. Black makeup lined his brown eyes. Dangling from his left ear was a gold earring.

The rest of him was just as pretty. He was wearing a gauzy silk shirt and snug pants. Multiple bracelets looped around both wrists, and his left hand was covered in a swirling flower design dark enough to stand out on his brown skin. It was a tattoo, but not the kind made of ink. It was the temporary kind made when a special paste dyed the skin. Tanden had seen it a lot in Morcea. The idea of a tattoo that could be redrawn and redesigned fascinated him almost as much as Crelan permanent tattoos did.

Just like most people, the boy seemed a little surprised when Tanden spoke to him in Morcean. "Your overseer suggested I come talk to you, to see if you'll suit my needs. But I think I already have my answer."

Arastarow smiled. "I suit most people's needs."

"That doesn't surprise me." Tanden gestured, and Arastarow obligingly shifted to make room for him on the sofa. The moment Tanden sat down, Arastarow moved closer. Tanden chuckled. "Slow down. I haven't paid for you yet."