Metilia and Gazali emerged from their room dressed. Metilia wore a white dress and Gazali a pair of dark trousers and a white shirt.

“Let’s check with Logan first,” suggested Gazali.

Tunio nodded and they walked down the corridor. Gazali knocked on Logan’s room door.

There was a loud thump and soon the door opened. Logan stood in his shirt.

“Yes?”

“Tunio has had his sword stolen,” Gazali said.

“Oh crap, that was a beautiful sword.”

“I was wondering where you went to get your sword?”

“The girl who stole my sword is here,” Logan said, opening the door wider. On the bed covered by the sheet lay Ingirid, propped up on an elbow. As the door opened, she waved at them.

“So, she didn’t steal it?” asked Metilia

“The sword is not here,” Ingirid stated.

“Does she know where the sword is?” Tunio demanded; he clenched and unclenched his fist, and pain seared his head.

“If the sword is stolen, the first place I would look would be with Anatoli,” Ingirid said.

“We met Anatoli a few days ago,” said Metilia.

“He had just lost his mother,” finished Gazali.

“He wanted his father’s sword,” Ingirid said.

“Where is Anatoli?” Tunio asked.

“I have the address,” said Logan. He turned and walked over to his bedside table and retrieved a small card. “This is the address.”

He handed the card to Tunio and closed the door.

“I don’t know how to get to this address,” Tunio said, looking at the card, his face torn with worry. “Do you know how to find a place by an address?”

Gazali and Metilia shook their heads.

“I can do it if I was given directions, but this is an address,” said Metilia.

Metilia looked at the card, “I don’t know where it is.”

“I think I know someone who might be able to help me,” Tunio said, grabbing the card and running down the stairs.

“Good hunting,” Metilia said and pulled on Gazali’s sleeve.

What is going on? Tunio walked down the stairs and came to the front door of the tavern. He pushed open the door and stepped outside, finding the street packed with people dancing and playing instruments of various sorts. The beating of drums crescendoed. Sitting on the steps to the tavern was Irrawella. Tunio sat beside her and she looked up at him and smiled.

“What are the chances of meeting you?” Tunio asked smiling back at Irrawella.

“Pretty good it seems.”

“You were actually the person that I was looking for.”

“You were looking for me?” she raised a hand to her heart and her smile widened.

“I need your help. Could you help me find this address?” Tunio handed the card to her.

“Why am I not surprised?” She took the card and then she read it her face fell. “This is a brothel.”

“It is?” Tunio’s brow furrowed.

“Why would he give me that address?”

A tear leaked out of Irrawella’s eye. She wiped it away.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Then what is it?” Irrawella stood.

“I need to find my sword. It was stolen last night.”

“And you think you could do that at a brothel!?”

Tunio stood and spread his hands wide. “That is where my friend told me I could find my sword. He had his sword stolen before and he found it at this location.”

“I don’t believe you.” She threw the card at him. He caught it. Then she turned on her heels and ducked into the crowd. Tunio tried to follow her but the crowd was too dense. She moved ducked and weaved into the crowd, moving further away from him.

“Irrawella!” he called after he lost sight of her in the crowd.

He stopped and the crowd continued to dance and move around him. He sighed and moved on to one side and climbed the steps of another tavern and stood tall, looking out over the crowd.

***

Irrawella moved through the crowd and ducked around a corner. Tears streaked down her face as she stepped on to the steps of a tavern. She placed her hands into her hands and cried.

“Irrawella!” she heard him call faintly over the sounds of the festival.

She cried into her hands, the tears streaming out of her hands and onto her dress. She sniffed and wiped away her tears and they slowed.

Stupid, stupid. Why would I think that he would look at little me? I dressed up all pretty for him. He should have noticed me. Am I so ugly that he would go to a prostitute before coming to me?

“Irrawella!” she heard him call over the music.

I don’t want to see him with anyone else. What if he is just looking for his sword, and I just ran away from him? She stood. Stupid. What if his sword means what I think it does and he means to …

“Irrawella?” Aquillia asked, stepping out of the crowd.

“Aquillia.” She wiped the tears away from her face again.

“Why are you crying?”

“It’s stupid,” she stated.

“If you’re crying over it, it is not stupid to you.”

“I was hoping someone would notice me.”

“And they didn’t?”

“Oh, he saw me.”

“So why are you crying?” Aquillia’s brow furrowed.

“He came to me with a story saying he wanted to find his stolen sword.”

Aquillia’s brow stayed and she tilted her head to one side.

“He claimed he had a lead on where it was, and he gave me an address he wanted me to direct me to and it was a brothel.”

Aquillia burst into laughter.

“See, it’s stupid.” She made to enter the crowd.

Aquillia grabbed her shoulder and her laughter died down. “It’s not stupid. It is just funny.”

“Why is it funny, isn’t a sword a guy’s word for his …?”

“Well yes,” Aquillia answered. “Let’s think about it for a second.”

“Okay.”

“If his sword is his member, and your friend has lost his sword then he would have had it cut off.”

“Oh!”

“Do you think your friend has had his sword cut off?”

“Not unless it happened last night.”

“If he had his sword cut off last night, I doubt he would want to go to a brothel this morning,” Aquillia explained. “So, if he is saying he has lost his sword and it is in a brothel, do you think he is referring to his manhood?”

“No.”

“What else could he mean?”

“That he actually had his sword stolen and he thinks that the thief is in a brothel.”

“Go and find your friend and get his sword back.”

Irrawella smiled brightly and ducked back into the crowd.

“Children.” Aquillia laughed and wiped a tear from her eye. “I will enjoy telling this story tonight.” She stepped into the crowd and began to dance with a man with an oiled body.

***

“Irrawella!” Tunio called. He scanned the crowd once more and then slumped on to the steps.

He stepped up to the crowd. “Do you know where this place is?” he asked a celebrant.

The celebrant pointed down the street.

“Thank you.” He ducked into the crowd and moved through the crowd, ducking and weaving around people.

“Tunio!” he heard Irrawella call. His head snapped around to the direction of the sound. He saw her standing up on the steps of a local furniture store, her dress stained at the front and her eyes red-rimmed.

“Tunio!” she called again, scanning the crowd again.

“Irrawella!” he called back and waved his hand.

She saw him and waved at him a smile lighting her face. She ducked into the crowd and they met in the middle of the room.

“I am sorry I ran away from you.” She hugged him.

He returned her hug. “Why did you run away?”

“It was nothing,” she said. Pressing her body against his, she smiled to herself.

“I was acting stupid. It won’t happen again. Do you still want to get your sword?”

“It was my father’s sword.”

“How long ago did your father pass away?” She let go of him.

“Last month.” A tear pricked at his eye and he blinked it away.

“I am so sorry. Did he leave you much else?”

“Just the sword. The farm we were living on was burned to the ground by dark elves.”

She collected him into another hug. “We shall get your father’s sword back.”

“Thank you.”

***

Anatoli strained his eyes, but all he could see was darkness. He heard people milling around downstairs. A tear streaked down his face. He would never again see the beauty that was all around him. Ingirid could walk past him in her most glorious dress and he would never know. The smell of Suzan when she had helped him to bed had been intoxicating. His member stirred at the thought of her. He pushed her from his mind and recalled Ingirid. The last time he had seen her she was drunk and dancing on the table.

He would never again see her drag a brush through her shining hair. He would never again see the sea, or the crystal towers the gnomes built. He would never again see the beauty from the top of Mount Wealth. Another tear streaked down his face.

The door opened and a set of bare feet padded across the room.

He sat up. “Who is there?”

Silence echoed across the room.

“I know you are there.”

The feet began to move again. He turned his head to the noise and there was a slight gasp.

“Who are you?”

“I … I …” a woman’s voice stammered.

“Why are you here?” he demanded.

“I … I …” she stammered again.

“Spit it out, girl.”

“I am not a girl.” Anger laced through her voice.

Anatoli smiled. Anger gives her strength. “How dare you come into my room.”

“I … I …”

Damn. She is afraid again. Anatoli smiled. “My girl. Come and sit next to me.”

He heard the padding of bare feet on the floor and then the bed sagged a little next to him.

“Why are you here, my child?”

“I am not a child,” she insisted again.

“Prove it,” he mocked.

A light kiss brushed his lips.

“Is that your proof?” he asked. “You are a child.”

A hand grabbed his and moved it. His hand was filled with silk dressing gown and breast. “I am a woman,” she insisted.

“You will have to do better than that.”

She got up off the bed and heard her pad across the room and the door shut.

Crap, she has left.

The sound of silk landing on the floor was proceeded by the sound of her feet returning across the room. The bed sagged under her weight again. She pushed him back down and then pulled the sheet back. She climbed on top of him and her hands grabbed his member and she guided it into her.

“A woman you are,” he declared.

“Finally,” she murmured.

***

“I know where this brothel is,” Irrawella declared.

Tunio smiled. “Great, let’s go.”

“We can’t just walk up to someone who stole your sword and demand it back again!”

“Why not?”

“Well, they would have a sword and you would not,” Irrawella said.

Tunio grabbed Irrawella’s hand, ducked back into the crowd, and worked his way back to the Whole Hog. He climbed the steps to the tavern door and with his free hand pulled it open. They stepped inside and then upstairs and down the corridor to his room. He stepped to his bedside table and opened the top drawer.

“How much money will we need?” Tunio asked.

“For a simple sword a gold piece would be plenty,” Irrawella said.

Tunio pulled a small coin pouch out of the drawer and searched through it; he found one gold piece and pulled it out. He returned the rest of the pouch to the drawer and closed it.

“The last gold coin I have,” he stated. Pushing the gold coin into a hidden pocket in his trousers, it clinked with the two other coins.

Irrawella smiled at him, and then they went back outside.

Once back outside they ducked through the crowd. She led him to an area of the market that contained blacksmiths and forges.

“It is cheaper to buy them from these guys than from the weapon dealers,” she explained.

Tunio nodded.

“Pick a sword.”

Tunio walked along the store, looking at the weapons they had arranged at the front of their shops. A large man, with the beginnings of a red beard, sat behind a grindstone sharpening a sword, while keeping an eye on the weapons on the tables.

“I give you a good deal on the swords today.”

“Why?” Irrawella asked.

“My apprentice was a loser and left me.”

“Did he make good swords?”

He shrugged, “They are okay.”

“I just need a sword to last one fight,” said Tunio.

“Then my ex-apprentice’s swords will suit you.”

“Are they sharp?” Irrawella asked.

“This one is,” he said, stepping off the seat at the grindstone. He extended the sword to Tunio handle first.

Tunio took the sword by its handle and felt the weight. “It is light.”

“My apprentice mixed the metal with something else, makes the sword light.”

“Is it strong?” Irrawella asked.

“I don’t know. If you find out let me know.”

“How much?” Tunio asked.

“One silver leaf.”

“Put it in a scabbard and we have a deal,” Tunio said, extending the sword back to the blacksmith, hilt first.

The blacksmith grabbed the sword and reached under the table and pulled out a leather scabbard. He sheathed the sword and proffered the sword back to Tunio. Tunio handed over a silver leaf and took the sword.

Irrawella and Tunio slipped back into the dancing crowd.

“You could have gotten it for a lot cheaper,” Irrawella said.

“Maybe, but I want to get my father’s sword back quickly, and you said a gold coin was a good price, so a light sword for half that is a steal.”

Irrawella nodded. “That is fair.”

“Besides, we could sell it to a dealer for two or three leaves and still make a profit.”

“There is no arguing with that.”

Irrawella led them through the crowd and out of the market district and into the brothel district.

The mood of the crowd changed from dancing and music to one of lust. Men and woman were still dancing. Instead of dancing in a group they were dancing with each other. Men and woman were naked or in various stages of dress. Against the walls and in the corners, couples kissed and fondled each other.

“It would seem that the prostitutes are doing a roaring business,” Tunio observed.

“It was what I thought you wanted to do today,” Irrawella admitted.

“I can’t say that I am not tempted. My father’s sword takes precedence.”

Irrawella frowned at him, stopping their movement through the crowd.

“What?”

“Did you know that it would be like this?”

“I have never seen anything like this before.”

“How do I know you are not lying to me?” Her eyes welled up.

“I lived on a farm until only last month.”

“Where was your farm?” she wiped tears from her face.

“I lived near Fort Northern Wiles,” he said. He looked out into the distance.

She nodded and then continued to lead him through the crowd.