The Devil's Deuce (The Barrier War) (53 page)

“Don’t worry, Danner,” Marc said in a jovial whisper that
everyone could hear, “I promise I won’t tell Alicia if you don’t. San, you
don’t even have to enjoy yourself if you don’t want to.” He leaned back far
enough to stare at Danner with mock-seriousness and held up a stern finger.
“But no drinking for you tonight,” Marc said. “One glass and I’ll be pulling
you out of the gutter.”

“You’ve got the lowest tolerance of any human I’ve ever
heard of,” Trebor said.

“That’s because he’s not all human,” Flasch said. “Maybe
drinking isn’t allowed in Heaven, and this is Danner’s body’s way of trying to
keep him on the straight and narrow.”

“I’ll straight and narrow my sword right upside your ass if
you don’t knock it off,” Danner said, fighting a laugh. “You’d better hope
stupidity is allowed in Heaven, otherwise you’re going elsewhere, my friend.”

Garnet clamped a hand over Flasch’s mouth before he could
object. Flasch glared at Garnet, but settled down.

“So are we agreed?” Garnet asked. “Aunt Delia’s it is.”

Aunt Delia’s was a kempt gentleman’s club tucked discreetly
behind an expensive inn and a food market that seemed to be perpetually under
repair. When Marc first introduced his friends to the club during an early
weekend leave of their paladin training, the market had scaffolding everywhere
for the erection of a new building. From the looks of things, Danner didn’t
think a single brick had been added to the building. Maybe the workers spent
their time and money at Aunt Delia’s. Danner shrugged as he followed Marc
inside.

The club was known for the quality of its women, but also ─
as Marc and Garnet had pointed out that first time ─ for the pies baked
there. Danner thought it an odd combination, baking and flesh peddling, but he
supposed it added to the reputation. Certainly the club didn’t have to
advertise. As with most such establishments, they existed solely by
word-of-mouth and customers bringing in their friends to experience the scene,
and Aunt Delia’s was quietly thriving.

Inside the club, young, attractive women danced on four
separate stages in a large common room. They writhed sensuously on various
poles and railings, wearing little to almost-no clothing at all; to a woman,
they all wore the minimum of a thong that covered only their most private of
areas. The largest of the four stages was set in the middle of the room, and it
was there that the main attraction was to be seen. At regular intervals, a
woman wearing some sort of erotic costume would take the stage and
slowly-but-surely remove each article of clothing until she was down to the
requisite thong. A handful of men stood lined up at a nearby railing, to which
they had to keep their hands firmly clasped while the woman gave them personal
attention as she danced.

A band was tucked away in one corner of the room, providing
a steady stream of rhythmic music for the women to dance to, and against one
wall there was an ample bar stocked with every conceivable type of alcoholic
beverage. Danner looked at that wall and winced, remembering his previous
experience, when he’d passed out in the middle of trying to drink out of his
very empty glass. His friends still hadn’t let him live that one down.

The crowd that evening was the smallest Danner had ever seen
in the bar and served as subdued reminder of what was going on only a few miles
away.

“Well, then, boys,” Marc said, sighing in contentment, “have
a seat.” He gestured expansively to the table like a grand host to his guests.

Marc gathered some coins from them all and went to a booth
set in a wall near the entrance. He returned with several slips of paper which
substituted for currency, but far more than their meager contributions could
have accounted for. Marc was well-known in the club, and the women all treated
him well and gave him special attention, which extended to his friends as well.
Marc had a romantic interest there, a girl who’d been introduced to them as
Janice, but who went by the name “Cherry” while she was working. The other
girls were sweet on him because they thought it wonderful and terribly romantic
how fixed he was on one of their own. Garnet also had an interest of sorts, a
girl who seemed more intent on him than he was on her. “Moonshine” was her work
name, but Danner didn’t think he’d ever heard her real name.

Michael, too, surprisingly enough, had a girl there, and
Danner wondered if tonight would be the night for Flasch and Trebor to fall for
some girl.

Then all it would take
is for Alicia to start serving drinks here, and our little group would be
complete,
he thought wryly.

“Why don’t you suggest
it to her next time you see her?”
Trebor kythed to him with a mental laugh.

“Are you
insane
?”

Trebor left a mental chuckle echoing in Danner’s mind. Their
friends went off in search of their particular women, leaving Flasch, Trebor,
and Danner at a table halfway between the center stage and one of the outlying
ones. Their table was on a raised step from the main floor, and a brass railing
stood between them and the drop-off.

Danner ordered a non-alcoholic cider, and the others ordered
mugs of strong ale to sip. They leaned back in their chairs and relaxed,
letting the excited spirit of the atmosphere creep into their bodies and work past
the tension built up from weeks of fighting.

“Now I know why sailors hit the bars and lesser clubs as
soon as they hit shore,” Flasch remarked, sighing into the foam on top of his
mug. “I didn’t realize how damn pent up I’ve been.”

“Well, that’s not
exactly
why, but in a manner of
speaking I suppose you’re right. You get used to it and don’t notice,” Trebor
said. “I’m sure Marc could tell us the exact physical process in your body, if
you’re interested.”

“No thanks,” Flasch said, and the three of them laughed. He
slipped a few pieces of the paper pseudo-currency to a waitress, who returned a
few minutes later with three small, tube-shaped, bubbling-hot pies. Danner bit
into one, felt the juices dribble down his chin, and he grinned like a little
boy. The others imitated him, and the pies were gone in minutes. They wiped
their chins clean, but the boyish feeling of euphoria remained.

Danner looked around, paying no particular interest to any
of the faces or bodies around him, and simply allowed himself to relax as he
hadn’t done in months. He sighed. “I think this is what we all needed, you
know? Time away from, well, everything.”

“Danner?”

“I feel like a whole new person,” Danner said.

“Danner?”

Flasch nudged him with an elbow. “Hey, whole new person, if your
name’s still Danner, there’s someone coming this way who seems to know you.”

Danner turned and found himself face-to-chest with a trim,
blonde girl whose face – once he looked up and saw it – seemed vaguely
familiar.

“Danner, it
is
you,” the girl squealed in delight and
threw her arms around him, practically falling into Danner’s lap.

“Deeta?” he said, hoping he remembered her name right. The
girl smiled and giggled into her hand.

Deeta had been a barmaid at the Dragoenix Inn, the
establishment owned by Moreen, where Danner had first met Alicia. Deeta had
shamelessly expressed an interest in Danner, coming on to him so strongly that
at times it was all he could do not to rudely shove her away in embarrassment.
Even now, his face was turning scarlet as Flasch and Trebor looked at him with
curiosity. Danner hugged Deeta awkwardly and patted her back, then tried to
straighten her up so she was no longer flung across his body.

“Ahem,” she said, straightening her garments, which Danner
realized matched the others girls in the room. Which was to say that what
little clothing Deeta wore was mostly see-through. Danner averted his eyes and
then looked at her face instead, where he hoped it would be safer.

“Deeta, this is Flasch and Trebor, two of my closest friends,”
Danner said, making the introductions. “Guys, this is Deeta. She used to be a
barmaid at the Dragoenix Inn, working under Moreen, the woman who travels with
my uncle.”

“How is Moreen?” Deeta said, jumping in. Danner mentally
cursed.

“Language,”
Trebor kythed to him in an amused tone.

“Fine as of last week,” Danner said, ignoring Trebor’s
comment. “She was at a play with my uncle and me, along with some other
friends.”

“She’s here in Nocka? Wonderful. And Alicia?” Deeta asked.
“She came here at the same time I did, a few months ago. We traveled together
from Demar. She was looking for you, I think, even though she didn’t say it,”
Deeta said, her voice strangely subdued as she peered at Danner, an unreadable
expression on her face.

“Alicia found us,” Danner said. “She’s the sister of one of
our friends.” He hesitated, unsure of how to phrase what he wanted to say.
“Alicia and I… we sort of have an understanding now, if you know what I mean,”
he said, hoping she would get the point. Danner didn’t want to have to hurt her
feelings by stemming off her advances if she persisted like she’d done in
Demar.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she said, and Danner couldn’t tell
if she spoke with feigned enthusiasm or the real thing.

“That’s a little
prideful, don’t you think?”
Trebor kythed to him.
“Have women throwing themselves at you often, do you?”

“So she’s genuinely pleased?”
Danner thought with
relief in his mind.

“No, actually she was
rather disappointed,”
Trebor admitted blandly.
“Heaven above knows why she’s hung up on you, but I suppose there’s no
accounting for taste.”

“Then what was that
whole pride thing for?”

“Just looking after
the state of your soul, my brother,”
Trebor kythed piously.

“Go choke on
something.”

In the brief seconds that had passed during their exchange,
Deeta had already straightened slightly so she no longer looked like she had
melted onto Danner, and she looked around her. Trebor smiled politely, but
Flasch stared at her body with a predator’s gaze. Danner suppressed a groan.

“Well,” Deeta said, “I love seeing old friends, but I can’t
sit and chat all night. I have to go earn a living. Unless one of you would
care for a dance?” Now she only gave a passing glance to Danner and instead
focused pointedly on Flasch, who grinned.

“I believe a dance sounds marvelous,” Flasch replied,
putting on a courtly air, “but someplace away from my friends, I think.”

“Of course.”

Deeta hopped off Danner’s lap and took Flasch’s proffered
hand, then led the Violet paladin away toward a cushioned chair in a secluded
corner.

“I wouldn’t want them to be jealous,” Flasch said, then
winked at Danner and Trebor behind Deeta’s back.

“Well, maybe she wasn’t as hung up on you as I thought,”
Trebor said blandly.

“It’s rather what I would expect from her,” Danner said.
“She latched onto me after only a few minutes, and has doubtless done so a
hundred or so times before. Flasch is welcome to her.”

“It still doesn’t say much for her taste in men,” Trebor
commented dryly.

“Good point,” Danner said. “I think.”

- 2 -

The next night, Trebor and Danner stayed at
Faldergash’s
house while the other four returned to Aunt
Delia’s. They’d spent the day lounging around the portly gnome’s house, amusing
themselves as best they could. Marc immediately sifted through the stack of
books he’d left there and found one to read, and Garnet played board games with
Michael and Trebor by turns. Danner and Flasch worked in the garage on the
buggy Faldergash had given to Danner, tuning the engine under the gnome’s
watchful gaze and making sure the vehicle was still road-worthy. Danner planned
on bringing it back to the Prism’s chapterhouse when they left. Now that he was
a full paladin, he could leave such things there in storage, where it would be
more immediately accessible to him. Faldergash had already loaded the back seat
with a few tools and a box full of the crystals he used to power the machine. A
little bit of powder crushed from one of the crystals was mixed with mineral
oil to create the fuel, with a little extra something Faldergash added to sustain
the high-performance engine and give it a little extra kick over the standard
fuel the dwarves used. There were two jugs of the special liquid, carefully
sealed and protected to keep them from spilling, which could lead to the buggy
exploding.

“You tell that commander of yours I’m working on some more
explosives,” Faldergash told them at one point, grinning from ear to ear. The
pudgy gnome’s specialty was in devices using fire, including explosives, and
creating new such inventions was his greatest joy. “And I think at some point
very soon you’re going to be very pleasantly surprised.”

“
Fal
,” Danner said, “what are you
up to?”

“Me?” the gnome asked innocently. “I’m not doing a blessed
thing.”

And that’s all Danner’s friend would say on the matter.
Faldergash stayed silent through their repeated attempts to cajole the
information from him, until at last they gave up and returned their attention
to the buggy.

Late that night, Alicia returned from a two-day stay with
relatives in the city making sure they were getting by safely. She was still
living with Faldergash, but now paid him rent for the room and the food she ate
there. Danner stood to greet her and kissed her, genuinely pleased to see her
despite the confusion that remained in his mind about how to handle their
intimacy. She got as far as hanging her coat on a hook on the wall before Marc
and the others burst into the room, returning from their night at Aunt Delia’s.
Michael and Marc had foolish looks on their faces, and even the normally
serious Garnet looked more relaxed and merry than usual. Flasch looked
positively flushed with an air of someone who was recently the butt of
extensive teasing.