Dusk descended on Yateph, the stars emerged like a sword drawn from its sheath and the darkness, like a slate, covering North and South, East and West. In the fifth Street, near Alath, which housed the great brothel, shadows moved like wind. Prostitutes dressed scantily in silk and light cotton attended the merchants that patrolled the darkness. Several horses held by their halters stood with their owners in the shadow, a portrayal of wealth, fit for competition.
One thing marked the street tonight. The figure of a Prince's carriage, parked in front of the brothel with two horses standing by, waiting for their master's command. Inside the carriage, Dorblan sat, filling himself with wine and reverie. He peaked out the carriage once occasionally, drank his wine and satisfied the fantasy of the women who accosted him with seduction.
They came in all figures. One would dare to put a slender hand in the carriage and rub the leather, another would tease him with a smile- Dorblan pretended to be amused.
When he looked again, he could see her coming, her thin figure approaching like a pirouette in the darkness, with a veil over her head. She slid into the carriage and her strong scent immediately filled Dorblan's nostrils.
She turned to him, examined him and grimaced firmly.
"It's been weeks, Dorblan."
Dorblan tensed, a thin smile went from his lips, the wine had began to take it's effect and he knew it. He turned, snatched her by the chin and sent his gaze down her neck, then to her breasts. He let her feel his breath and by chance, his passion. She smiled knowingly, sent her tongue rapt into his palms and touched his thighs.
As if she had quickly repulsed him, he threw her back into the seat. "Call me Lord," he said.
She laughed, then spoke lowly. "You have been drinking," she said, stroking the back of his head. "Come inside."
Dorblan reached for her hand and put it away.
"I must leave now," he said. He reached for the wrapped silver shekels by his side and delivered it into her laps.
"Go," he said.
She stared at him, hesitated for a moment then touched his arm. "Come," she whispered.
Dorblan held the wine to his mouth and gulped the remainder.
"Go," he said, sternly.
She tore her eyes from him, took the silver and wrapped herself in the veil. "I'll be waiting, Lord."