“You say you want to talk, so talk.” Heratio kept his eyes on the unknown man sitting next to him. He placed his arm on the table, his fist clenched, ready to move to strike the man’s throat if the moment called for it.

“I think you know who it was that sent me," said the man sitting next to him. "That man has a message for you — Salvation can be yours if you change your allegiance. Forsake your master for he is already doomed. If you swear your fealty to the man who sent this message, the matter that you think would find its way to the court would be paused and, if your loyalty is confirmed through action, it will be forgotten."

All the while he spoke, Heratio sized the man up. His muscles and his movements but most importantly, his eyes. How they moved as Heratio readjusted in his seat or suddenly reached for his tankard to take a fake drink from the empty cup. Heratio noticed a slight jolt at the quick movement. How battle-tested was he? That was the question Heratio was analyzing. Men who could remain calm and composed in a sudden fight to the death were few and far between. Most men, even if well trained, would be useless in their first true fight. That sensation, the fear, the way your heart beats, the shaky arms, the unbearable need to urinate, all would fade to an extent with battle experience. With experience, your mind becomes acclimated to the heightened stakes and you can act more rationally on the battlefield.

Heratio's assessment was that he might have seen a fight or two, but he didn't have the calmness of someone who was truly ready for how things here could escalate. He might not win in a fistfight because they seemed to have similar builds but if it were a fight with weapons Heratio was confident he would win.

"That's what you waited here to tell me? He could have just sent a letter by messenger."

"I suppose it was because a letter can be quite impersonal. Doesn't the message carry a certain impact now, here, with us sitting next to each other?"

"There's another thing. Heratio, you may leave Venocia if you so choose but if Bantam or Figaro try to leave, actions will be taken to prevent them from reaching their destination,” said the man sitting next to Bantam. He stared at Bantam, using his gaze to reinforce the warning.

Bantam let out a burp. Then said, “You don’t have to worry about that. This here city is my home. Wouldn’t think of leavin’.”

If a fistfight broke out, the brothel’s guard would have to intervene. Failing to do so wouldn’t look good to the rest of their clientele. Giovannus would be able to hire two goons to do his bidding, to stake out Bantam’s whereabouts, and deliver a message, but he wouldn’t be able to bribe the whole brothel to just allow an attack to take place here. Heratio reasoned that these two genuinely had no interest in escalating things here. They just wanted to deliver the message, to try to get Heratio to betray Augustus.

Since he set out from Augustus’ estate, there had been an itch in his mind to leave and save himself. The thought kept coming back to him, like a nagging woman. But each time it appeared, it just pushed itself to the side as he went about his task. Maybe he didn’t want to examine the thought too thoroughly and was all too willing to push the idea away. Now, he was forced to consider it by these two men.

Heratio knew, without a doubt, he would never betray Augustus directly. He was too fond of him, the way one was fond of a little brother that you had watched grow into a man. They had spent years together, and although he was Augustus’ servant, they had on many occasions talked to each other casually, almost as if equals. This was particularly prevalent on the voyage to the Maysian isle when he had no equals on board to converse with. Not to mention that the goddess Ophelia and the god Cyril looked so unfavorably on those who betrayed their masters. They would curse their offspring for three generations, which wasn’t something Heratio would want to risk. As a result he could never raise his sword against Augustus. But leaving quietly in the night was a different matter.

That would simply be walking away and whatever happened behind him wouldn’t be of his concern. Heratio couldn’t feel guilty for that, could he? He imagined Augustus' throat slit open ear to ear, with Giovannus standing over the lifeless body with a smile on his face. That ugly bald man with his cock-sucking lips smiling like a fool that just told a joke. That image gave way to the satisfying thought of Heratio’s fist smashing into Giovannus’ face, with the visceral sound of his knuckles cracking into his cheekbones. Heratio couldn’t help but think of that.

He didn’t know where that hate he held in his heart came from. He always disliked Giovannus, something about the way he carried himself and looked at others. Or maybe even it was just the way Giovannus looked that rubbed Heratio the wrong way. And, whenever Augustus talked of Giovannus it was always negative, reinforcing his dislike for him into hatred.

“You’ve said your message,” said Heratio. “Now it’s time for you to leave us alone.”

“Think carefully about your future, Heratio,” said the one next to Heratio. They both nodded to each other, then stood up and left the booth.

Heratio put a finger over his lip so Bantam wouldn’t speak before peeking through the curtain to see where they went. They were far enough away that they weren’t actively eavesdropping on the booth, but would still be able to see when he and Bantam left the booth. And with them were another two men who looked like fighters.

Even though they were far enough away Heratio felt they wouldn’t be able to overhear, he still chose to speak in a whisper. “Are you still willing to leave Venocia tonight?”

“I don’t know,” said Bantam. His face was blank as if he didn’t really care much either way. “I’d prefer to stay in Venocia. Like I said, Venocia is my home.”

He still seemed to be affected by his drinking. “They said they’d kill you if you left Venocia.”

“Yeah… So I shouldn’t leave? Maybe I’ll go back to my bed upstairs then. The woman I got up there, Phyline, is a real beaut’.” A grin crept onto his face. “I like to take her breasts and squeeze them together, then I –”

“Don’t go back up there. This could easily turn into a brawl. You wouldn’t turn your back on your friend, would you?”

“Nah, I’d never abandon you,” said Bantam while sinking into his seat. He rubbed his eyelids.

“We’ll wait for your vision and mind to clear from the drink, then we’ll walk out of here. Alright?”

“Sounds like a plan. Say, while we wait for my mind to clear, why don’t we get some drinks?” jested Bantam.

“Only drink water.”

Bantam stuck his head out of the booth to signal a server then ordered two glasses of water.

“So, what are you going to do? You wouldn’t betray Augustus, right?”

“I’m not sure. I’m honestly not that great at making these types of decisions. All I know is I like Master Augustus and if I had the opportunity to slam my fist into Giovannus’ smug face, I’d take it without a second thought. This whole business about leaving to save myself, seems like a big decision that’d take a lot of thought. It'd probably be easier to not think about it and just keep doing what I’m doing.”

“Heh, you know. You say you don’t want to make a decision, but that’s a decision in itself. You’re deciding to stay.”

“I guess you could look at it that way.”

“So, maybe we should kill these guys,” said Bantam with a voice that was distinctly not a whisper.

“–Shhh. Bantam, I know you are drunk. But you need to keep your voice down,” said Heratio in an intense whisper.

“Sorry...” said Bantam, but his face didn’t show a sign of remorse.

“I’d rather not fight them. Atleast, not here where we don’t have weapons. Plus there are plenty of witnesses. Maybe you were right to suggest going back to bed. Maybe I should just spend the night and enjoy myself, so I can walk the streets safely back home in the morning.”

“Yea. There’s also the risk I could get banned from The Blue Rose. That wouldn’t be good at all.”

Heratio knew he couldn’t leave The Blue Rose on his own. Four against one, even if they weren’t strong in a real fight, they would easily be able to overcome Heratio. He considered what to do about Figaro. They knew about Figaro and would likely find out when he tried to leave the city. Maybe Heratio could stop by his apartment to try to warn him the next morning, but there was a good chance he would have already left. That would be unfortunate, but he knew Figaro’s death, should it occur, would not weigh too heavily on his conscience. He only did what he thought was best, and circumstances happened to conspire against Figaro.