Read A Noble Estate for Free Online

was that they’d rescued all the Valers from Karpos City.
     
    * * * *
     
    Tyll grimaced as he emerged on deck and saw the dirty, dusty sprawl of Chloi spreading from the riverbank like a festering sore upon the landscape. Warehouses, markets, exchanges—this was a trader’s city. Taverns, open-pit cook shops, stadia upon stadia of pens—this was the trading city of the Lythadi nomads. It was a crossroads town, where the decadence of the Riverlands met the savagery of the barbaricum. It was a hodgepodge of mud-brick buildings, timber and stone buildings, hide tents, canvas pavilions and thatched earth cots. And that’s just was he could see from the barge as they made for the deep-water dock, which was, really, hard to tell from the rest. It was no longer, no wider, it just had the advantage of being at one end of the mess.
    “That is Chloi?” Pajel asked, in the mercenary style of Zafirin.
    “It is,” said Tyll. “And with any luck, we won’t have to go further than the deep-water pier.” His own Zafirin was refined, accented in the manner of the nobility.
    Pajel slid him a glance. “You don’t think we should stop in at a tavern, get a decent meal, hear the local gossip?”
    “We should, I just don’t want to,” muttered Tyll. “Chloi is volatile, dangerous, and I’m happier by far when I can avoid it.”
    “There’s two of us, though. Surely this town can’t be so bad that a bard and his hired guard can’t get a decent meal?”
    Tyll felt the smile twitching his lips. Pajel was right; they could both use a good meal. Ship’s fare of dried fruit, jerky, hard tack and tea just didn’t satisfy the way a hot, cooked meal did. “All right, we’ll find a tavern.”
    They collected their gear while the boat maneuvered into its spot on the dock. They were back on deck before the gangplank dropped and were the first two off the boat. Tyll took the lead. There was a halfway-decent tavern near the exchanges. Halfway decent was the best one could hope for in Chloi. The tavern was pretty much where Tyll recalled it being, looking pretty much the same, perhaps a little more faded, a little seedier, a litter dirtier...Tyll grimaced.
    “There?” Even Pajel sounded dubious now.
    “There.” Tyll took a deep breath and instantly regretted it. Chloi stank. He pushed his way through the door and paused to let his eyes adjust to the dim interior lighting. He scanned the taproom until he found a small, unoccupied table against the back wall. He pointed it out to Pajel, and they worked their way through the half-filled room until they reached their goal.
    Tyll plopped himself down with an exaggerated sigh.
    Pajel rolled his eyes and managed to look utterly bored as he casually leaned back against the wall.
    The serving wench came over immediately. She wore the briefest of deep vee-necked tunics and a leather collar. Her long legs were bare and the tunic exposed her hip brand—the stylized image of a dancer and a tankard—that marked her as a sex slave. “What’ll you be having, masters?”
    “Ale, roast boar and the dark bread,” said Tyll.
    “Ale, stew and the light bread,” said Pajel.
    “That’ll be eight pennies fer each of you, masters. Three fer the ale, five fer the food.”
    Tyll set two silver coins on the table.
    The slave took them and carefully counted out four copper pennies in change. Then, she put a pair of wooden chits on the table to show they’d already paid. “Ales’ll be right up, masters.”
    Pajel snagged her tunic by the lower hem and pulled her closer. “What’s the price to have you?”
    “Two fer oral, four fer cunt, master.” The wench was perfectly calm; she was obviously used to her station.
    Tyll cocked his head and regarded her. She was pretty enough, with soft brown hair and clear skin. “Which temple certifies you disease free?”
    “The temple of light, master.”
    Tyll turned his gaze on Pajel and lofted an eyebrow.
    Pajel shrugged and released her. “I’ll