REVILED

Bartholomew stared out into the night sky. His nostrils flared as he gritted his teeth with a note crushed in his hands.

“We’re nearing our destination sir.” A deep gravelly voice drew him out of his thoughts.

Bartholomew turned to the man sitting across from him. He was a walking contradiction. A wall of a man with thick muscles barely being held in his tailored suit. His bald head brushed against the carriage ceiling. His wide jaw hidden behind a full, well-groomed beard.

“My rings, Davus,” Bartholomew said.

Davus pulled out a plain wooden box with brass hinges. He opened it to reveal ten thick steel rings sitting on a worn pillow. Bartholomew placed the rings on each finger, the thick heads striking against each other.

“You’re taking this seriously, pops?” Baron said with a snicker.

Bartholomew growled, and turned to Taela, “I don’t want him embarrassing me,” he said.

“Understood sir,” Taela said with a satisfied smile.

“And how are going to do that?” Baron said.

Taela stepped on his foot, “If you don’t behave,” she said, “Then you won’t get a treat tonight.”

Baron chuckled, “I’ll behave then,”

“We’re here,” Davus said as the carriage stopped.

Bartholomew was the first out of the carriage with Davus behind him. They stood in front of a pristine whitewashed building that stood three stories high. Rich drapes hung in the windows with a multitude of flowers framing the path to the doorway. They stepped into the building.

The building had a thick heavy scent of incense hung in the foyer. A stairway at the back led upstairs and down into the cellar. A curtain covered the doorway on their right. A beautiful woman wearing only a corset and petticoat approached them.

“Welcome master Decker,” the courtesan said with a bow, “Madame Reina is waiting for you downstairs.”

Bartholomew nodded and took the stairs downstairs. The stairs let out into a hallway with a door leading to a steaming bath on one side and a storage room on the other, but they stepped past both to the door at the end of the hall. Bartholomew nodded to Davus, and he knocked on the door. A large man, nearly as tall as Davus, opened it for them.

The room was richly decorated. Mahogany furniture lined the walls with gold and silver candelabras illuminating the room. A well-stocked bar sat on the left side with beautiful, topless courtesans ready to serve. In the center of the room sat a long rectangular table with six of the ten chairs occupied. Bartholomew walked around and took a seat at the head of the table. Baron sat at the other end.

A courtesan approached with a filled glass, “Your usual, sire?” she said with a charming smile.

Bartholomew took the glass, letting his eyes wander on her exposed flesh, “Thank you,” he said taking a sip.

He set the tumbler onto the wooden coaster and let his gaze linger on the others sitting at the table. Bartholomew’s gaze lingered on the mature beauty to his right. Reina’s lovely brown and grey hair shimmering in the light, and she responded with a sly smile and a lick of her lips. Bartholomew returned her smile then he returned his gaze to the room.

“So,” he said, authority filled his voice, “Would someone like to explain why we’re gathered here?”

“I would like to know as well,” Reina said, “I had to pull my best girls for this meeting which is costing me greatly.”

All eyes turned to the young man, a kid really, sitting to Baron’s left. His lanky frame leaned against the arm of the chair. His unkempt, dirty-blond hair hung in his face. A large red fang hung from the earring on his left ear.

“Are you going to say anything, Calleg?” Bartholomew said.

“We have a problem,” Calleg said sitting up, “Our shipment of cursed gear was stolen.”

The elderly man sitting next to Calleg gave him a sad smile, “That’s a shame,” he said, “I had a few buyers ready for you.”

“Do you know who stole it?” Baron said scratching his ear.

“Vixen,” Calleg said looking to the fully dressed woman. The left side of her face was wrapped in bandages.

“It was a new gang led by a necromancer,” she said, “They called themselves the Legion.”

Bartholomew crushed his glass. Everyone stared in shock as a courtesan cleaned the mess.

“Didn’t you have men guarding the product?” Bartholomew asked, picking glass out of his hand.

“I did!” Calleg said slamming his fist on the table, “I sent three men to protect the crates until I could gather enough men to move it.”

Silence filled the room.

“You sent…three people to guard the product?” Bartholomew’s voice was soft, yet it filled the entire room. “You’re an idiot.”

“I had to send my men to secure our territory!” Calleg said standing up, “Every street gang is trying to secure whatever they can from what the thieves guild left behind. As leader of the Red Fangs, I had to make sure none of the other gangs stepped out of line.” He glared sharply at Bartholomew, “Isn’t that why you were scouting us?”

“I was scouting you because I needed to find a replacement for the thieves guild,” Bartholomew said standing up, “But it seems I overestimated your abilities.”

“Don’t give me that!” Calleg said approaching him, “My gang did what we were supposed to do. It’s your job as king to keep other gangs from messing with us.” He stood shoulder to shoulder with Bartholomew, but his thin frame wasn’t as intimidating. Calleg poked Bartholomew in the chest, “Perhaps you’re losing your touch, old man.”

Bartholomew stared at the boy impassively. Calleg smiled smugly and turned to one of the courtesans. Bartholomew quickly grabbed Calleg with his left hand and punched him in the face. Bartholomew’s steel rings left imprints on Calleg’s face.

Vixen tried to step forward, but Davus picked her up and crushed her in a bear hug. She screamed in pain and lashed out with her feet, but Davus wasn’t letting go.

Bartholomew kept hitting Calleg. Only the courtesans flinched with each strike. The warm, sticky blood covered his fist and ran down his wrist. Bartholomew slammed his fist into Calleg’s face one last time and let his body fall to the floor. Calleg’s face was left a bloody mess. Two courtesans brough bowl of water and a towel.

Bartholomew washed his hands and threw the towel onto Calleg, “Let this be a lesson,” he said as Calleg gurgled blood, “If someone challenges your authority, then you beat them bloody. Don’t go running to someone else.” He headed back to his seat, “Get him out of here.” He watched as two guards pickup the bloody Calleg and carry him out of the room. Bartholomew looked to the others, “The Red Fangs are now disgraced,” he said, “And I’m putting a bounty on the Legion.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to bring them on?” Reina said.

“They won’t do it,” Bartholomew said, “I know the leader personally, and he’s been a thorn in my side for nearly a year.” Everyone stared in silence.

“I would like to make a proposal,” Reina said drawing everyone’s attention, “I want to be in charge of the slave trade.”

“Aren’t you overstepping?” The large man across from her said.

“Samon,” Bartholomew said quieting the man, “Explain yourself Reina.”

“The black market shut down when Gambill died,” Reina said, “What I’m proposing is to diversify the market between several of us. That way the market won’t completely shut down when one of us is deposed.”

“If that’s the case,” the elderly man said, “I’d like to join in with miss Reina.”

“Accepted,” Bartholomew said, “Reina and Wilfried will take over the black market, and I’ll be taking over as financier, for the time being. Anything else?”

“Can I take control of smuggling and consolidating the street gangs in the lower city?” Samon said, “There’s too many kids trying to push their way into our business.”

“Accepted,” Bartholomew said pointing to the wretched looking man between Reina and Willfried, “Work with Andren to get the lower city back under control.”

“I have something,” All eyes turned to Baron, “My little mouse told me that someone important purchased the thieves guild tavern.”

“When were you going to mention this?” Bartholomew said with a growl.

“I just did.”

“Gather more information, Baron,” Bartholomew said, “If there is nothing else, then we’ll conclude here.”

“Feel free to help yourself to any of the girls here,” Reina said with a casual smile.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Samon rose and picked up two of the girls before leaving the room.

“High-end whores aren’t my thing,” Andren said, “I’ll prefer the girls in the lower city.”

“And I have a lovely wife at home,” Wilfried said, “Another thing, I found that songbird you wanted Reina. The one Delilah had.”

“Where did you find her!” Reina said looking expectantly.

“She came into my shop a few days ago,” Wilfried said putting on his jacket, “Her new mistress bought the rymujin that’s been sitting in my shop.”

“At least she’s still in the city,” Reina said with a large smile, “Now I just need to find her.”

“I’m glad I could be of help,” Wilfried said putting on his hat, “Good night, sire, lady Reina.”

Bartholomew stood up and headed over to the bar. A courtesan poured him another glass. Baron and Taela came to the bar, and Baron gave the courtesan a charming smile. Taela gave him a stern glare.

“Sweetie, how have you been?” Reina said, giving Taela a hug. “The Decker’s been taking care of you?”

Taela hugged her back, “I’m fine auntie,” she said, “They treat me well,” she gave a Baron a sly smile, “When master Baron isn’t misbehaving.”

“Oh my,” Reina said giving Baron a similar smile, “Do I need to get a few of the girls together so that we can punish him.”

“I believe so,” Taela said laughing.

“Well, you’re always welcome to come back,” Reina said, “Many of your old clients would appreciate it.”

“I can’t,” Taela said, “Master Baron couldn’t make it without me.”

“I understand,” Reina said, “Your old room is still available.” She turned to Bartholomew, “Would you like to join me tonight?”

“I’d love to,” Bartholomew finished his drink and took her arm.

Reina led Bartholomew up to her room on the third floor. The madame’s room took up most of the third floor with built in bath. Reina stepped behind the silk screen in the corner of the room while Bartholomew sat on the bed. A lamp on the other side gave Bartholomew a tempting view of her silhouette. Reina stepped out with a thin, transparent shift. Reina sat on Bartholomew’s lap and started kissing him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Bartholomew let his hands explore all over her body.

Reina pulled away with a heavy breath, “I’d like to make another proposal,” she said giving him a peck on the lips.

Bartholomew chuckled, “I knew there was a catch,” he said tightening his grip on her left breast.

Reina moaned with a smile, “I want to open another brothel in the lower city,” she nibbled his ear, “That way I can secure my hold in Jericho.”

“I’m not sure,” Bartholomew’s hand slid further up her thigh, “I might if you can convince me.”

Reina pushed him down on the bed and straddled him, “Gladly.”

The sun shone through the window as Bartholomew put on his clothes. Reina laid on the bed with the sheets wrapped around her middle but letting her legs show. The golden light of the sun made her look more beautiful.

“Did I convince you?” she said with a victorious smile.

“You did,” Bartholomew said putting on his jacket.

He came to her and gave her a deep kiss, “Would you mind financing it?” she said with a sweet smile.

“Now I know why Andren prefers cheaper girls,” Bartholomew said with a smile, “You upper city girls are too damn expensive.”

Reina parted her legs in a tempting pose, “But we’re worth it.”

“Yes, you are,” he gave her another kiss, “I’ll send the money when you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” Reina kissed him again.

Bartholomew pulled away and left the room. He headed downstairs and stopped at the entrance to the common room. The prostitutes sat around in their shifts resting after a long night work. They noticed him standing there.

They quickly rose to their feet and bowed, “Good morning sire,” they said.

“Good morning, ladies,” Bartholomew said stepping inside, “How are you all feeling?”

The bartender, a middle-aged woman, said, “We’re excellent, sire.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Bartholomew said pulling out a small coin purse and setting it on the counter, “This is for the girls who served us last night.” He pulled out another bag, “And this is for those that didn’t.”

The bartender smiled warmly, “You’re too generous sire,” she said, “What do we say ladies?”

“Thank you sire!” the prostitutes said with a deep bow.

Bartholomew smiled and waved, “Keep up the good work, ladies.” His smile grew as he heard the bartender trying to get the girls to settle down.

His carriage sat outside with Davus standing by the open door. He bowed when Bartholomew approached.

“Good morning, sir,” Davus said in his deep guttural voice.

“Morning Davus,” Bartholomew said, “Let’s go home. There’s work that needs to be done.”

Baron and Taela were already sitting inside. Taela beamed with bright energy while Baron looked like a walking corpse.

“What happened to you boy?” Bartholomew said with a dark smile.

“I punished him last night,” Taela said with a large smile, “As you ordered, master Bartholomew.”

Bartholomew released a loud laugh, “Good,” he said, “Pull yourself together boy, you have work to do.”

Baron responded with a deathly moan.