top of men. Those not rich enough to rent a room or those without the modesty to care, he reckoned. From time to time the scene was punctuated by the odd masculine grunt or a feminine giggle.
A plump lady of ageing years with more powder on her face than dust in the desert approached. The cloying scent of a hundred different perfumes clung to her but none could hide the stink of sex that trailed behind her.
“Can I help you gentlemen? We cater for all tastes,” she asked in a low, throaty voice with a wide smile on her red, red lips.
“I'll take a room, a girl and a bottle of something strong,” Betrim said in a growl.
Swift laughed. “Fuck the room, I'll fuck the girl and something to smoke wouldn't go amiss.”
“Yeah, me too,” Green said with all the eagerness of a boy who's never been inside a whore.
“Best make it a boy for the young'un,” Betrim said, grinning his horrific grin, “be an experience fer him.”
“Fuck you, Black Thorn. I ain't no weird,” Green shouted, earning himself more than a couple of looks.
The look the ageing mistress gave Betrim was far more worrying though. She studied his face for a moment, studied his collection of scars. “We don't take too kind to people messing up our girls, Black Thorn.”
Swift broke into a raucous laughter. “Ya reputation is well known, Thorn,” he said and then broke off as he spotted a girl he liked the look of. “I'll take that one. Come here, girl. I got something fer ya ta suck on.”
Green laughed, nudged Betrim in the side and scuttled off to find a girl of his own. Never had Betrim wanted to kill the lad so much. He noticed the powdered mistress was still staring at him, studying him. Betrim stared right on back with a neutral expression.
“I don't mess up whores. I don't beat women,” Betrim paused, “well not unless they deserve it. I want a room; a drink an' a girl ta fuck. Don't much care what she looks like, I ain't the prettiest thing ta look at myself.”
If the mistress was cowed at all by Betrim's name or reputation she didn't show an ounce of it. After a while she nodded towards the stairs. “Third door on left is free. I'll send a girl up with a bottle.”
There were no smiles for Betrim anymore, he noticed. People rarely smiled at the Black Thorn. With a final stare that could have shattered a mirror he headed for the stairs and towards the third door on the left.
By the time Betrim and the others made it to The Thieves Rest he felt a little less angry and a lot more relieved. The girl he'd gotten was only just prettier than he was but she knew her way round a cock, no doubt, and Betrim had not been left wanting. She had a wonderful set of teeth on her too, all pearly white and only the one missing. The bottle of spirits he'd got were a little disappointing but had a satisfying burning sensation on the way down so he kept the whole bottle. It would serve him well when they got back out on the plains.
Swift whistled and skipped all the way from the whore house to the inn and Green wore a stupid grin and kept mumbling something about tits. Betrim tried his best to ignore the little shit lest his anger return.
They found the others sitting alone on a table in the most crowded part of the common room. Henry was nursing a pint and eyeing the collected masses with dangerous intent. A brooding Boss sat next to her staring into his mug of beer with a dark expression. Bones looked more bored than anything else and his face lit up when he spotted the others. Seemed conversation had run a bit dry. Didn't surprise Betrim, Swift tended to do most of the talking in the crew.
“How'd it go?” Bones asked the new comers with a knowing wink.
“Green only went an' said Black Thorn's name in the middle of the damned whore house,” Swift said grinning from ear to ear.
“An' yet he still has all his teeth,” the Boss said without looking up from his mug. “The Black Thorn must like our newest recruit.”
Betrim growled as he
A plump lady of ageing years with more powder on her face than dust in the desert approached. The cloying scent of a hundred different perfumes clung to her but none could hide the stink of sex that trailed behind her.
“Can I help you gentlemen? We cater for all tastes,” she asked in a low, throaty voice with a wide smile on her red, red lips.
“I'll take a room, a girl and a bottle of something strong,” Betrim said in a growl.
Swift laughed. “Fuck the room, I'll fuck the girl and something to smoke wouldn't go amiss.”
“Yeah, me too,” Green said with all the eagerness of a boy who's never been inside a whore.
“Best make it a boy for the young'un,” Betrim said, grinning his horrific grin, “be an experience fer him.”
“Fuck you, Black Thorn. I ain't no weird,” Green shouted, earning himself more than a couple of looks.
The look the ageing mistress gave Betrim was far more worrying though. She studied his face for a moment, studied his collection of scars. “We don't take too kind to people messing up our girls, Black Thorn.”
Swift broke into a raucous laughter. “Ya reputation is well known, Thorn,” he said and then broke off as he spotted a girl he liked the look of. “I'll take that one. Come here, girl. I got something fer ya ta suck on.”
Green laughed, nudged Betrim in the side and scuttled off to find a girl of his own. Never had Betrim wanted to kill the lad so much. He noticed the powdered mistress was still staring at him, studying him. Betrim stared right on back with a neutral expression.
“I don't mess up whores. I don't beat women,” Betrim paused, “well not unless they deserve it. I want a room; a drink an' a girl ta fuck. Don't much care what she looks like, I ain't the prettiest thing ta look at myself.”
If the mistress was cowed at all by Betrim's name or reputation she didn't show an ounce of it. After a while she nodded towards the stairs. “Third door on left is free. I'll send a girl up with a bottle.”
There were no smiles for Betrim anymore, he noticed. People rarely smiled at the Black Thorn. With a final stare that could have shattered a mirror he headed for the stairs and towards the third door on the left.
By the time Betrim and the others made it to The Thieves Rest he felt a little less angry and a lot more relieved. The girl he'd gotten was only just prettier than he was but she knew her way round a cock, no doubt, and Betrim had not been left wanting. She had a wonderful set of teeth on her too, all pearly white and only the one missing. The bottle of spirits he'd got were a little disappointing but had a satisfying burning sensation on the way down so he kept the whole bottle. It would serve him well when they got back out on the plains.
Swift whistled and skipped all the way from the whore house to the inn and Green wore a stupid grin and kept mumbling something about tits. Betrim tried his best to ignore the little shit lest his anger return.
They found the others sitting alone on a table in the most crowded part of the common room. Henry was nursing a pint and eyeing the collected masses with dangerous intent. A brooding Boss sat next to her staring into his mug of beer with a dark expression. Bones looked more bored than anything else and his face lit up when he spotted the others. Seemed conversation had run a bit dry. Didn't surprise Betrim, Swift tended to do most of the talking in the crew.
“How'd it go?” Bones asked the new comers with a knowing wink.
“Green only went an' said Black Thorn's name in the middle of the damned whore house,” Swift said grinning from ear to ear.
“An' yet he still has all his teeth,” the Boss said without looking up from his mug. “The Black Thorn must like our newest recruit.”
Betrim growled as he
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