Led to the guildmistress.

Bishir escorted the Akkadian and Naerwyn through the temple to the annex used by the whore's guild. Two armoured women stood sentry on the doorway. The Akkadian looked at the bronze breastplates, crested helms, greaves and bracers they wore wistfully. Here was armour that would fit him, though the breastplates would probably need hammering out a fair bit to contain the big tits he had been burdened with. The women's weapons were light scimitars, made for female hands and muscles but razor sharp and deadly.

"Minaja and the redheaded one the rumours tell of." Bishir announced to one of the guards. "Delivered as agreed without a scratch on either."

"Fine, your guild can expect prompt payment." The guard replied. "We will take them from here."

"As you like." Bishir shrugged, his job completed. "Best watch the ginger slut closely though. She walks like a panther and I'd wager she's no whore."

"We know our job well enough cutthroat." Bishir was told scornfully. "Your gold will be paid, you have no further concern in this affair."

Bishir simply laughed, turned on his heel and stalked away without a backward glance. The doorway was opened and the guards stepped to the sides, gesturing for the assassin and the thief to enter. The two friends were escorted through the corridors of the whore's guild to a second guarded doorway. Another pair of similarly armed and armoured women stood watch here.

"Halt!" The escort commanded. "You are overdressed for the inner sanctum of the guildmistresses. I advise you to remain still whilst that is remedied."

The Akkadian heard the guard step up close behind him and then felt the neckline of his peasant dress seized. Before he realised what was happening he heard the slice of steel through woolen material and the cold blunt steel of the backedge of the scimitar upon his skin. With one long cut the dress was sliced from neckline to hem. The ruined dress fell apart and the Akkadian allowed it to fall from his body and heap at his feet. The guard then stepped to the side and behind Naerwyn.

"I shall expect replacement and compensation." Naerwyn said without moving a muscle. "Or do you whores expect me to walk back through Al Areth naked?"

"Whether you walk from this room at all is the decision of the guildmistress." Naerwyn was told coldly.

Naerwyn's dress, like the Akkadian's was sliced apart and fell away. The assassin steeled his nerves and sttod straight with his arms by his side. A glance to his side and he sees Naerwyn impassively standing, staring stonily ahead. The guard quickly, but efficiently searches the discarded clothing and finds the Akkadian's small knife. From Naerwyn's ruined dress she recovers four blades. The guard looks Naerwyn up and down speculatively.

"Rather a lot of blades for one woman to carry?" She comments. "And you're clearly no whore."

To emphasise her meaning the guard places her hand over Naerwyn's trimmed ginger bush. Naerwyn lets out a small gasp as a few hairs from her trimmed thatch are plucked.

"Bitch!" The thief snarls.

"Maybe so, but not your bitch." The guard retorts. "Open the door, they are fit to enter."

The Akkadian and Naerwyn walk forward into a largish hall. In front of them steps lead up to a dais at the top of which are seated the council of the whore's guild. In the centre is the senior guildmistress, her seat a throne. To her sides are six lesser officials of the guild, three seated to each side of her. All the women wear silk loincloths and painted henna. All are nubile and none look as though they have seen their thirtieth nameday. The Akkadian knows that looks are deceiving, to have made it to the rank of mistress each must be twice or more their apparent ages. Magic and potions could keep the years at bay for those with coin, and the whore's guild often boasted that the bulk of the warrior's coin ended in their purses.