2. Chapter 2 - Asgall

CHAPTER 2 - ASGALL

A brOTHEL IN STAUNTON, VIRGINIA - 1775

I tossed my tricorn onto the rack by the front door. My favorite harlot leaned over the rail of the stairwell and called down, “Fancy a roust, sire?”

“Nae.” I took off my coat and hung it upon a hook.

“You look weary, sire, a little?—”

“I said, Nae, bring a whisky.”

She left tae get m’drink.

I ran a hand through my hair and loosened the cravat at my neck as I walked down the creaking wooden floor of the hall into the low-ceilinged sitting room. I sat down on the cushioned chair in front of the fireplace, opened the cigarette box on the table, and lit one with m’lighter.

I leaned back in the chair and drew a long inhale of the cigarette, exhalin’ smoke rings toward the ceiling.

The harlot entered, barefoot, her breasts uncovered, a corset and nae skirts, just cunt and arse, carrying a glass with whisky in it. She moved sultrily taeward me, passed me the glass, and sat down, unbidden upon my knee.

“Ye requested me, sire?” Her fingers went tae the back of my hair and twirled through it. Upstairs a bed was banging against the wall, a man was groaning with pleasure.

I scoffed. “Why would I request ye?”

She pressed against me, her mouth moved tae m’neck. “Ye enjoyed yerself last week, sire, I believe.”

“Who is upstairs?”

“Yer man, Master Greyson, sire, he arrived early for yer meetin’.”

“Up — ye are sweaty and soilin’ m’breeches.” I pushed her off as I leaned forward, tae put the butt of m’cigarette out in the ashtray.

She said, “My apologies, sire.”

I brushed off m’knee. “Open the windows wider, tis hot as Hades in here.”

“Of course, sire.” As she turned tae leave I smacked her arse, settin’ a pink mark in the shape of m’hand, marrin’ her pale skin. Twas satisfyin’ tae hear her squeal.

I opened the box, pulled out a second cigarette, and lit it while watchin’ the lass open the windows.

Then I looked around at the furnishings, the upholstered chairs, the long, heavy draperies, and the woven rugs. This was a well-appointed room for the time, a fine brothel. And close tae Richmond. I scheduled many of m’meetings here, because I rather liked the lawlessness of the age.

Yet the heat was unbearable, I needed tae remember tae check the weather before I arrived.

I drew in a long drag... There were drawbacks tae the time of course, lack of air conditionin’ being one of them, but the men were on the cusp of greatness and the colonies had just begun their revolution. I felt invigorated by the impending war and relished the novelty.

I flicked ashes ontae the rug as Jim sheepishly came down the stairs, tucking his shirt intae his breeches, running a hand through his hair. He looked damp from exertion, and ashamed of havin’ kept me waiting.

Good.

I said, “I will give ye a moment tae get yer coat on.”

“Oh, of course, I took it off because of the heat.”

I nodded and settled my gaze on his face through the smoke that I had exhaled around my head.

He pulled his coat on, verra nervously, sweat blooming on his upper lip. He dinna use tae be so nervous, but he had likely heard what I had done tae his predecessor.

Jim settled in the settee, placed a leather portfolio on the table, unzipped it, and began spreading out papers.

The oil lamp on the table dinna do much tae beat back the darkness, yet I could see a drip of sweat roll down his temple.

I said, “I will need more light.”

“Of course, my apologies, sire.” He jumped up, went tae the hall, and returned with a battery-powered lantern. He put it on the table and turned it on, emitting a bright light around the room.

He sat back down and returned tae goin’ through his papers.

The brothel-keep entered with a bottle of whisky. “Welcome back, sire, your room is prepared upstairs.”

“Good, good.”

“Would you want a top-off of your glass, sire?”

I nodded. He refilled my glass, and left.

I sipped the whisky. “Ye dinna even take one minute, Jim, tae mention the locale — are ye enjoyin’ yer visit? Ye time-traveled, are ye havin’ a fine experience?”

He looked startled. “Oh, um, yes, sire.” He leaned back against the pillows of the settee, his knee jigglin’ nervously. “Thank you for giving me the opportunity, and this is a fine land... though I must say it is... very hot.”

“Ye are visitin’ the American colonies, surrounded by the enlightened men of the Revolution, and ye’re complainin’ about the heat?”

“My apologies, sire.”

I called down the hall, “Brothel-keep!”

He entered. “Yes, sire?”

“Send in the last lass tae fan me.”

He rushed away and a moment later a harlot with a wicker fan stood beside m’chair, fannin’ my face. The exertion caused her breasts tae quiver delightfully.

I inhaled more cigarette. “I daena ken, Jim, I find the temperature tae be verra fine.”

Another bead of sweat rolled down his temple as he watched the lass fan me.

I said, “What are ye lookin’ at?”

He said, “Oh, um, the... nothing.”

“What dost ye think of m’lass?”

“She’s um, lovely...”

“Why did ye think ye could partake of the lassies? Did ye ask my permission tae go upstairs?”

“No, sire, the brothel-keep told me it would?—”

“Do ye think I pay ye tae fornicate with the harlots, and dost I want ye sweatin’ upon m’papers?”

“No, sire.”

He used his sleeve tae wipe his forehead. I huffed and gestured for the lass tae hand him a handkerchief.

He dabbed at his forehead.

“Better.”

“My apologies, sire.” He flipped through the papers, once more, and passed me a small stack.

I looked them over. More leases, a patent, and a title to a new ranch.

“Good, good.” I tossed them tae the table and picked up my cigarette from the ashtray, took a drag, then picked up my whisky glass and drank.

We sat in silence for a few moments, while he dabbed at his damp face. Meanwhile I tapped the side of the glass, slowly, countin’ the days since Magnus and his brothers had stolen the woman, Ash, from m’compound.

I dinna like tae hae lost that round. Twas not in my nature tae lose. “Did ye bring me the information I asked for?”

Jim said, “Yes, sire.”

He placed a small stack of papers on the table.

I nodded, jabbed my cigarette out in the ashtray, and pulled the papers closer tae read.

He interrupted, “That is all you need to win back your throne.”

I flipped the page tae read the next. “I daena want m’throne back, I want Magnus’s throne ended .”

I picked up my glass, drained it, placed it on the table, and snapped my fingers at it. The harlot put down the fan, poured whisky in the glass, handed it tae me, and began fanning me again.

Jim asked, “Do you hear that?”

“What?”

“Sounds like wolves. Are there wolves?”

“Of course there are wolves, we are in the middle of nowhere, Virginia, the wilderness is right outside.”

He nodded.

I picked up the papers again and read. The fan wafted back and forth beside my face. From the corner of my eyes I watched the quiver of her flesh as she moved.

Jim glanced at m’whisky, but dinna ask for one, though he looked tae be desperate for a sip. Streams of sweat rolled down his cheek.

The sound of a long, low wolf howl again. He looked at the open window nervously, “It sounds closer, does it sound closer?” He pulled his shirt collar from his throat, then realized I was watching and quickly dropped his hand.

I punched that cigarette out in the tray. “Nae, I am not interested in gainin’ a thirteenth century crown.”

“Perhaps the Kingdom of Riaghalbane, sire, we discussed challenging them for their throne?—”

“I meant tae,” I waved my hand, “but I daena hae the bloodline, and I hae grown disinterested in all of that anyway?—”

“I thought you looked forward to training for the arena?—”

“It has lost its luster. Think of it, Jim, really think — Magnus built an arena, ye expect me tae enter it and play by his rules?”

“No, sire, that does not?—”

“It would be a lark, of course, tae train and challenge him, let it all play out.”

I leaned forward for yet another cigarette, saying while I did, “I would rather enjoy beating his arse, possibly in a long duel, with blood and gore and a great deal of brutal pain, even havin’ my own arse beat — I’m not much interested in failure, but I do enjoy someone havin’ their arse kicked, even if tis m’own... and ye ken, I wouldna die. He would die, I would like tae see him die, but it needs tae be a game — this is... see, Jim, this is the problem — I like a game. I want revenge — I’ll remind ye, he walked intae my compound and stole the woman who I had contracted tae be m’wife and the unborn son who was legally mine. Magnus would deserve the cruelty, daena ye think?”

“Yes, definitely, sire, revenge is the best idea.” Then the color left his face as a wolf howled again.

I listened. “Sounds like wolves are comin’ closer, would ye like tae hae the window closed?”

He gulped and tugged at his collar. “No, we need the air, I think, sire, but... how big are wolves, would they fit through the window?”

I shrugged. “I imagine they would... We are in a brothel on the edge of the New World. The Old World belongs tae the wolves and beasts of the past, they howl in the night. They might want tae come see what we are up tae.”

There was a long faraway howl.

I said, “Speaking of the Old World, I asked ye if Magnus would deserve the cruelty.”

He nodded. “He would, yes, this is his problem, he is a traditionalist. He believes in thrones and bloodlines.”

“And he keeps his family close.”

I stared at the burning ember on the end of my cigarette. “I daena want his throne, but I would like him tae suffer. And I would like tae get the woman back. Tis why I hae had ye gather all ye could about them.”

I drained the whisky in my glass.

“My plan will be tae menace and dismay King Magnus, not for the throne, but tae ruin him — twill be fun. I will watch him twist in the wind, tryin’ tae save his family and his throne, only tae realize I wanted naething more than tae bring him tae a miserable end.”

“I have arranged another meeting with King Edward of England. He looks forward to beginning the campaign.”

“I suppose I will hae tae return tae the thirteenth century — see, Jim, this is Magnus’s problem, he has honor, he does what he says he will do — it sounds particularly unpleasant, daena it, Jim? Tae be ruled by duty? Tae feel bound tae live in the thirteenth century?” I shivered. “I tried livin’ back then, I lasted a week.”

“Yes, sire, it sounds bleak.”

“Especially once the English King begins lobbing cannonballs at his castle. Och aye, I look forward tae it. I imagine Magnus will be verra discomposed by the attack. Wallace is joinin’ us?”

“Yes, page six, you convinced him.”

I flipped tae that page and chuckled. “Och, tis verra entertainin’ — William Wallace! I canna wait tae see the look on Magnus’s face.”

I shuffled through the stack, finding one that mentioned the layout of Stirling castle. “The walls are built of timber and stone — if I give Edward a catapult, specially made — better yet, a tank.” I flicked ashes on the rug again.

Jim said, “His whole family is there... Both sons and his daughter. His wife, his brother Fraoch, and others.”

“Where is Lochinvar and m’wife? They arna there?”

He looked at the front and back of a paper. “I am not certain, I believe they are at Balloch Castle in the year 1710 or?—”

I narrowed m’eyes, “They never left?”

“I sent spies as you requested, but I am not certain. They are either in 1710 or 1683.”

“Send Maxwell, tell him he can use the drones, I would like tae ken where they are — I want her back. She inna worth anything, but I daena like tae be tricked.”

I stamped out that cigarette in the ashtray and lit another, getting more excited about my plans. “Lady Mairead is of course at Riaghalbane? I do appreciate how well that device I bought from Johnne Cambell works, I never used it before, I stop vessels, direct them off course. Tis wonderful for creatin’ mayhem.”

“Divide and conquer.”

“More like draw and quarter. If Lady Mairead canna find her son and her grandchildren... twill be verra entertainin’ tae watch her suffer.”

I watched him nodding, sweating on the furniture. I scowled. “Ye ken, Jim, ye ought tae go now, this has been enough.”

He faltered for a moment, then started tae gather his papers?—

“Leave them.”

He stood. “You will leave in the morning?”

I leaned back in my chair. “Aye, but ye canna stay, besides ye hae work tae do.”

He said, “Um... with the wolves howling and...” His eyes searched the darkness. “Hear it? There are more now.”

“I hear it, they likely want a weasel for their meal, ye ought tae leave before they smell yer fear.”

He bowed awkwardly, and rushed from the room.