Dunyazad: Tale the Fifth

Well, that provided a capital bit of misdirection with regard to our hunters; it was also a bit of fun and profit that Dee couldn't resist. With a salacious grin and a nod to me, our new friend linked arms with her and escorted her into a nearby close. I was left to slip in behind them and watch the entrance.

Dee's new beau didn't even bother to draw her into an alcove; after having tendered the gold he simply released his eager peggo and hoisted her aboard. He then gave a good account of himself, marching her around the narrow cobbled courtyard ... much as I had done earlier that day. For my part, I found myself both jealous and likewise envious. What was unsettling was that, having so recently stood in for Dee, these sentiments could be applied toward both parties toiling merrily away behind me.

I turned back when the man grunted in rhythm with his spermacious release, and was in time to see Dee unlock her legs and arms. She appeared to levitate in front of him -- thanks presumably both to his continued stiffness and to her proven iron cunnie-grip. As his eyes widened, she said, "If yer want to have a bout on the horizontal, stop by The Catacomb some time!" Having made her point, Dee grasped his shoulders and pulled herself free, then dropped lightly to her feet. With her skirts back in place she looked as though she was stopping to chat with the vicar.

"I've never seen you ..." he began, speaking for the first time. "Ahh, you're new there, aren't you, my dear?" With that, he put a most un-ecclesiastical hand over her breast.

"Yes, indeed." Dee abruptly levered back on his pinky finger. He winced and scowled, and she continued, "And you must be Sir Harry. The girls said you were a bit forward, but I think we shall get along quite nicely. Ask for Dunny."

She stepped back and he looked at first as though he might try to strike her, but then (luckily for him) he noticed something beyond us and flushed. Dee and I both turned to the entrance of the tiny courtyard in time to see no less than three men, clearly Black Mantles in mufti, step in. While these specimens didn't look bright enough to connect us with that morning's blast, we must have aroused their suspicions -- from our original encounter, they knew of a man of my build, and a whore. At any rate they spread out slightly to block the passage, and all three were reaching under their coats in a way suggesting violence was about to ensue.

Dee simply strode toward them; taking my new stick as she passed me, she whipped out the short sword I had not even been aware it concealed. In one smooth motion she swept the blade's tip backhanded across the throat of the nearest man, then continued to swing it through an arc over her head to thrust it into the second man's chest. Releasing her grip as he fell, she pivoted past him, her left hand now rising with the stick sheath to smash in the temple of our last assailant.

Even as the latter's knife rattled on the cobbles, she had backtracked to extract the sword from her previous opponent. This she used to dispatch villain number one, who had been gurgling unpleasantly. And villains they were, somewhat to my relief -- there was a wicked assortment of weapons scattered about by their demise.

"I can hear Sir Harry's footsteps disappearing down that way," said Dee, as she crouched to wipe her bloody blade clean on the cloak of one of the fallen. "We should leave by the same route."

In the event, she had to lead me by the hand. Even after all the things I had seen -- and done - I was shaken by the suddenness of events. "I'm told your queen gave that man a significant bauble named after herself. Perhaps it was for his lingam more than his valour."

While I doubted Vicky had sampled his attributes, I was inclined to agree on general terms ... he seemed to have fled before Dee's outburst of violence. Mind you, I was just as keen to put distance between myself and that place.

As was becoming more and more common, Dee responded to my thoughts. "Let us get well clear of here," she said. "Hopefully Sir Harry missed the entertainment. I would hate to lose his patronage."

In the event, we made our way through a series of unsavoury alleyways without further carnage. They were none of them as quiet as the one we had just abandoned, but the locals had a better judge of our capabilities (that is to say, Dee's capabilities) than our late antagonists. Possibly it was the spatter of fresh blood across Dee's white blouse. We slipped through the narrow carriage gateway and gave the appropriate knock to gain access to the place I already thought of as home.

As I said earlier, this was nominally a staff entry, although occasionally it was used to discretely remove patrons who were rendered hors de combat by drink and other excess. Hence the variety of abandoned clothing I had made use of the first time I had sallied onto the streets. Now I was positively furtive as we entered ... not so Dee, of course. She stepped in as the regal owner of the premises, and grew in stature to match. This resulted in some overstressing of her poor costume, which now failed utterly to contain her. Still, even with her proud breasts breaching over the top and a seam split at her hips, there was no question of who was in command as she set her minions to her bidding: doubling the guard at all entries and putting the rest on alert, and fetching us hot food and baths.

"Sir Harry has greased a fine path for you, my Master. Shall we fuck while we wait for our food?"