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This appears in a pre-2010 issue
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Blood Is Like Wine (Chapter 1)
Kim Erickson
The old man hurried along the side of the deserted street trying to avoid the large rain puddles. Rain pounded like fists violently upon his balding head. His clothes although tattered and torn were drenched and sagging on his rotund frame from the weight of the soaked in rain droplets. His boots sloshed on the inside with rainwater from the unavoidable puddles, but nothing was going to stop him. He had to get to the tavern; he had waited very impatiently all day to frequent his favorite establishment. How he longed for a drink of strong whiskey and to feel the closeness of one of the warm lush female forms of one of the whores that worked there. He yearned to feel their large heaving breasts pressed up against his chest; maybe he would even get lucky and arrange a business deal of his own. He rounded the corner of the street and could barely make out the lights shining in the tavern’s windows, the rain pounded harder and hail was beginning to fall, thunder roared like an enraged beast and lightning streaked flashes of silvery fire, igniting the night’s darkened sky. He grabbed the corners of his collar on his over coat and pulled the soaked garment up tightly around his stubbly cheeks. He ran faster trying to get out of the tormenting weather. As he stepped up to the first step of the taverns entrance, his foot slipped on the slick wet wooden boards and he fell to his hands and knees. His nose missed smashing into the steps by only a hair. Suddenly a hand from out of no-where grabbed the back of his overcoat and jerked him up to his feet effortlessly. The old man turned and looked to see who had given him such an uplifting helping hand. All he could see through rain soaked eyelashes was a darkened shadow of a hooded caped figure.
The old man blinked several times trying to make out who the silhouetted image might happen to be, “Thank you, kindly.”
The hooded figure replied in a deep rich tone, “Don’t mention it, I try to help a friend in need. Let’s get out of this horrendous weather and have a drink.”
“Yes, indeed let’s do that!” the old man said, cheerfully.
The stranger walked up the steps and opened the door for the old man. The old man didn’t know what to think of such generosity. Most people in the town avoided him; they shunned him, and called him horrid names. Children would even taunt him by throwing rocks at him and then run away laughing. The old man walked slowly up to the door and nodded to the stranger for his kindness. The stranger motioned with a regal sweep of his hand for the old man to enter first, so the old man cordially accepted. The two men walked in the door and the stranger lowered his hood from his head. The old man looked up at him and realized he was definitely a stranger, he knew everyone in the area and he had never seen this man before. The tavern had only a few customers, two men were sitting at the bar talking to two whores that worked at the tavern and three men were sitting at a table together in the far corner drinking whiskey and talking in loud slurs.
The old man looked at the stranger and said with a sorrowful sigh, “Not many people out tonight, I guess it is this despicable weather.”
“You are probably correct, but I would not know. I am just passing through and I will be leaving in the early hours. I just wanted a good drink of whiskey and some companionship.” the stranger said.
The stranger removed his thick black cape and hung it on a hook to dry by the door, and then he turned to the old man, “Let’s get a drink. Would you care to join me?”
The old man looked at the tall stranger, actually he was at least a head taller than him, and his hair was long below his shoulders and shimmered like the ebony of raven’s feathers. His piercing eyes were dark as coal, and his face was sculpted with firmness. His flawless skin appeared very pale almost translucent in appearance, tiny bluish colored veins appeared so close to the skins surface. Dressed in a white shirt, black leggings and black soft leather boots; he looked to be twenty and some years of age. The old man instantly knew by his regal statuesque appearance that he was a gentleman of great wealth. The stranger eyed the old man cautiously; he had beady little brown eyes, and a sagging middle-aged wrinkled face that displayed an aura of untrustworthiness about him. His back was slightly hunched and his body odor was foul from days of not bathing.
“Yes, let’s get a drink!” excitement beaming from the old man’s eyes.
The stranger looked around the tavern, the establishment was repugnant, the walls were stained and yellowed, the long wooden bar was disgustingly filthy from spilled whiskey and ale and the whole establishment smelled of cheap whiskey, smoke, vomit, and unclean whores. He felt his stomach begin to churn from the strong rancid odors that inflamed his nostrils.
“Let’s sit at that table in the corner.” The old man suggested as he pointed in the direction with his bony frail finger.
“Very well,” the stranger headed walking over to the table.
The stranger sat down at the table with his back to the wall while scanning the large open room with few tables and chairs.
The old man took off his dripping overcoat and hung it on the back of his chair, then clumsily sat in a chair across from him and yelled to the bar keeper, “How about some service?” while rapping his fist down on the tabletop repeatedly.
The bar keeper started to yell something obscene back to the disgusting little old man, whom he despised, and noticed the distinguished stranger sitting along with him and decided not to do so, “I will be right over.” He replied.
Suddenly one of the whores that were lounging seductively against the bar came sauntering over to the table. Her eyes were very bloodshot from too much drinking; however she locked them upon the stranger’s eyes only. The stranger gazed deeply into her eyes as she moved ever closer to him. She looked to be forty and some odd years of age, with dyed fiery red hair, and a lot of pale powdery make-up, somewhat trying to diminish the lines and wrinkles of all her troublesome years of living. When she reached him, she ran her fingertips across the back of his shoulder up to his neck, while bending over slightly and positioning her large heaving breasts into his view. Her dress was so tight and her flabby sagging breasts pushed up so high by her corset, the stranger could actually see the brown outer edge of her areola showing. The stranger instantly became overwhelmed by her body odor; she reeked of whiskey, cheap perfume, and the sex of several partners.
She leaned over and whispered seductively into his ear, “ How about if I join you now, we can have a few drinks, some laughs, and then I can take care of you upstairs, later?” then with her other hand she slowly reached down and gently stroked his crotch.
The stranger grabbed her by the wrist aggressively, almost crushing her fragile bones and removed her hand from his crotch, while glaring deep into her eyes, “You are too old and too worn out for my taste.”
She was so appalled by his comments and actions; she turned and fled the room in tears, clasping her injured wrist to her bosom.
“You could have given her to me,” the old man chuckled.
The stranger ignored the old man’s comment, then yelled to the barkeeper, “Bring us a bottle of your finest whiskey now, I am getting very impatient!” Although he preferred wine in an establishment as such he decided to order the whiskey.
The barkeeper ran over to the table with a full bottle of rye whiskey and two silver plated mugs and filled both mugs quickly. “Sorry, Sir... can I get you anything else?”
The old man sat there scratching his grayish balding head in bewilderment and blinked several times, he could have sworn he saw the stranger’s eyes turn a flaming shade of red for a brief moment when he yelled to the barkeeper. Then he dismissed the thought thinking he had just imagined the incident and began to drink his warm whiskey, the alcohol quickly spread throughout his being, warming his chilled flesh and bones.
“That will be all,” the stranger said casually and tossed two gold coins on to the table to the barkeeper.
“Thank you, Sir, if you need anything at all let me know.” The barkeeper eagerly said while scooping up the gold coins and then walking away eyeing the generous amount preciously.
The stranger picked up his mug and took a huge swallow, “Well, I have had better whiskey, but at least this will knock the chill off.”
“True... that it will,” the old man stated. “That it will!”
Suddenly one of the men that were sitting at the bar came staggering over to the table, his whiskey sloshing over the sides of his mug. He had long grayish hair, a crooked pointy nose and several teeth missing from the looks of his drunken smile. His clothing was worn and tattered and smelled from several days of wear.
He bumped into the table and leaned over to the old man and whispered loudly, “I am going to get some silver coins tomorrow, for work I have been doing. Do you think I can come over and pay your lovely daughter a visit, she was so delectable the last time?” he then made a low groan deep in his throat. “I have been saving my coins up to pay for another visit.”
The old man looked around cautiously not wanting anyone to hear the old drunk. The stranger acted like he was not paying attention to what the drunk had to say.
The old man whispered quietly to the drunk, “Come by my house tomorrow night and we will see if we can work something out.”
“I will be by there, right after our evening meal. I need to go for now, you know my wife is expecting to have another baby any day now. Thank you so much!” the drunkard spat out and staggered out the door into the storm.
The stranger sat quietly and finished off his mug of whiskey then poured him self another mug and refilled the old man’s mug also.
The stranger looked at the old man and spoke softly, “I am a traveling man and I get very lonely sometimes, however I detest the women in this establishment. I guess you could say I like females of a purer nature.”
“A purer nature?” the old man finished off his second mug of whiskey and refilled it again.
The stranger leaned closer to the old man and whispered; “I guess you could say I like them very young and beautiful, not having known the touch of many, at least of marrying age. Do you think you might be able to help a friend in need, considering you are local folk? ”
The old man’s eyes lit up, “Well I think I can be of assistance. However, it will cost you.”
The stranger said, “I like them young not over the age of ten and seven years of age! No older! What is your price?”
“I know of someone.” The old man beamed with pride from his scratchy voice. “Ten pieces of silver is the price and she is ten and four years.”
“Do you know her personally? Is this person perhaps near by, you are talking about?” the stranger asked.
“Yes, she just happens to be my daughter, she is not a virgin, do not expect one. I took that from her about a year ago, but she is very lovely and very enjoyable.” The old man said boastfully.
“I will pay the price you are asking. It doesn’t matter to me if she is not a virgin, and if she is that lovely she must surely have taken after her mother!” the stranger said snidely.
It took a moment for the old man to realize what the stranger meant by what he had said, and then he just shrugged it off quickly, thinking of the silver he was going to get paid, since he was asking twice as much from the stranger as he normally asked.
The stranger emptied his mug and refilled it and filled the old man’s mug again, “After we finish these drinks I will be ready to meet your daughter. For your sake, your daughter better be lovely. I know you wouldn’t waste my precious valuable time. It could be lethal for you if you did. ”
The old man’s eyes widened with fear and he swallowed hard, “I am sure you’ll be pleased.” He sputtered out hopefully.
“We can take my carriage to the location, it waits outside.” The stranger stated. “That would be good, it’s not fit outside tonight for man or beast.” The old man smiled.
They quickly finished their drinks and the old man grabbed up his soggy over coat as they left the table. The stranger stopped momentarily at the doorway and donned his cape and the two men raced out into the violent storm to the six-team carriage. Simon, the coachman, helped them inside, then swung up to his seat, cracked his whip, and the coach lunged forward into the cold stormy darkness.
The weather raged on, pounding fists of rain and hail on the rooftops, as lightning streaked continuously across the sky. The wind howled like a pack of wolves baying to the full moon in the night’s sky. For most of the night the storm had raged on with mighty fury.
The young girl shriveled down deep in her bed; drawing the covers up to her tear filled eyes. How she wished that her mother were still alive to protect her from all the evil that lurked around her. But her mother would never return and the young girl knew this truth. One long agonizing year had passed since her death. At ten and four years of age she had come to grips with the reality, but the pain was as fresh and raw as if it happened yesterday. Tears flowed from her bloodshot eyes, she felt desperate and alone in an abandoned world; with only a father that humiliated and used her... she had no one to turn too. She then closed her eyes and began to pray, that the storm would cease its madness and her drunken father would not return home tonight.
Suddenly she heard a loud noise from down stairs. She cringed to think about what was going to happen, but she knew, it had happened many times since her mother’s death. She heard the door to the front of the house slam shut. Two very male voices were talking loudly as if in a drunken stupor, she could hear them bumping into furniture and laughing. She could hear her father’s loud drunken voice over the other man’s voice, she cringed again, and she then grabbed her blanket and ran to her closet. Darkness filled the closet, the fear of the storm was nothing compared to the horror she knew she would soon face. Shriveling into the far back corner of the closet she slid down the wall pulling the blanket up to her tear stained cheeks, peaking out for the horror that she knew would come. Feeling her frail body trembling violently with fear, she drew her knees up to her chest and prayed again.
Hearing the footsteps on the stairs she knew her father had not forgotten about her tonight, he never would forget about her. Each footstep on the stairs echoed in her ears, the tears flowed even more rapidly, her eyes wide with pure terror. Closer and closer the footsteps came, louder and louder they echoed throughout the house as well as in her mind. The thunder continued to roll with the storm. The footsteps were now just outside her bedroom door. Trying to be very quiet she wiped her tears away from her face with her hand, in hopes that her father would not find her hiding place, although deep down inside she knew he would always find her.
The door creaked open and the two men entered her room. “I want my ten pieces of silver now.” The old man bellowed.
The man replied, “Not until I see the girl first.”
Her father staggered to the bed pulling at the covers that were piled into a heap on the bed. He called out to her, “Come to me, you brat!”
She knew not to answer him.
He then got down on all fours and looked under the bed, “I said, come to me, you little tramp!”
Still no reply.
Her father became very agitated, “Dammed child!”
The other man said, “I think you are lying about having a daughter, I am going to leave.”
Her father replied, “No wait, I will find her.”
He got up off the floor and staggered to the closet. Her heart was pounding in her chest, echoing through out her body, as if it might explode. The door suddenly was jerked open. Reaching in and groping in to darkness he finally made contact with his target. He grabbed her by her long blonde hair and dragged her out, her back sliding against the cold hard floor. Grabbing her by her frail arms, he stood her up in front of the man so he could look her over.
The man walked over to her, grabbed her chin and tilted it up so he could see her face from the light that came in from the outside of the bedroom door. His eyes intensely locked with hers and he saw familiar eyes staring back at his.
She could smell the foul scent of whiskey on his breath. He looked into her teary eyes and saw the fragile innocence of a young frightened and abused girl, pain shot like bullets through his heart at what she has had to endure from this molesting animal, known as her father.
He let go of her chin and turned to her father and said, “She will do very nicely.” while shoving a brown leather pouch full of silver at her father’s hands, and telling her father to leave the room.
Her father then told the man, “No Sir, I am not leaving, when you are finished; I am going to get mine.”
The man very quietly spoke, “Very well, but do not interfere with my business with her.”
“I will not interfere it arouses me more to watch first.”
Hearing this conversation between the two men the young girl’s knees began to give way. These kinds of situations had happened many times since her mother’s death, so many times now she could not remember the number any more. But to her, every time was as horrid as the first time. Sometimes her father would bring one or two men to her bedroom; this would go on all night sometimes. Then at times it would just be her father paying her nightly visits. But the visits from her father were beginning to become more frequent, sometimes twice in a night’s time. The pain and the tears were always present.
As her legs began to tremble and give way, the man caught her and picked her up and gently placed her petite body cross ways on the bed. He leaned over her, his breath was rank with whiskey as he breathed heavily in her face.
“This will not be so bad, my young one. “ He whispered to her.
Her father turned and sat down in his usual chair for these kinds of gatherings. The young girl bit her lower lip wishing that she were somewhere else, in the rose garden maybe with her mother like she used to do, before this nightmare began. The man then picked up a strand of her hair and gently rubbed it between his fingers savoring the feel of her silky tendrils and stared deeply into her eyes. She turned her head and closed her eyes tightly. He then grabbed her chin and turned her face toward him and told her to look into his eyes the whole time not to turn away. She agreed out of sheer terror. He then touched her cheek with his fingertips; her skin was smooth as the finest of silks. She knew the pain would come soon.
He stepped away from her for a moment running his fingers through his long black strands of hair and turned to her father and said,” She is very lovely, I know I will be paying you another visit soon.” as he grinned sadistically at him.
Her father stated,” I think we will have a good business future together when you are in the area.” Then he took another sip of his whiskey while adjusting his crotch to get more comfortable in his chair.
The man turned to her and stood looking down at her. She noticed he was a nicely dressed man, not ragged and nasty looking like the others her father had brought to her before. He wore black leggings with a white full-sleeved button up the front shirt, with out a collar, a thick black cape and knee high black boots. His eyes were very dark brown and very sinister looking, an evil in them that couldn’t be expressed, he had such a piercing gaze which held her transfixed to him. His hair was black and long below his shoulders. He then took something out of his pocket and tied his hair back; he quickly removed his cape and tossed it to the old man. Looking down at her he noticed that she would become a very beautiful woman. She had waist length blonde hair, jade green eyes, and creamy soft skin, but if she continued the abuse by her father she would one day be sold into prostitution permanently or end her life by her own hands. He had worked to hard for far too many years to find her, and then to find her living in such horrid conditions. But now the time had come to make things right; however he could not take her with him now. So he had to do the unthinkable.
He leaned over her and whispered to her, “Mikayla, I know who you are, my name is Darius, and I have come for you, to remove you from this hell you are living in. But I can’t take you with me now, I must do certain things first, after tonight no one else will hurt you or I will rip out their heart. Just remember I will come back for you! Do you understand?”
Mikayla nodded in agreement too frightened to whimper a word. Suddenly Darius stopped speaking with his mouth and started speaking to Mikayla with his mind. At first Mikayla thought she was dreaming a nightmare, but she realized what was happening was real. He told her he was going to do things to her but she would not remember them. That she would have dreams of sitting in the rose garden and reading to her mother like she used to do, but she would always remember that he would come for her one day. Mikayla nodded in agreement again. Darius arose and looked into Mikayla’s frightened tearful eyes and then he grabbed her white cotton nightgown, ripping it to expose her shoulder. He leaned over and kissed her shoulder. Mikayla gritted her teeth hard and a tear escaped from the corner of her eye. Darius lowered his head slightly he could feel the beast overtaking him and did not want Mikayla or her father to witness this act; his eyes ignited into flames of crimson red; as he felt his incisors lengthen with his tongue, salvia began to steadily drip from them. Suddenly she felt a sharp pinch as Darius’s teeth sank deep into her shoulder. Mikayla cringed as his teeth penetrated her flesh, a cry of fear passed between her lips. He sucked the sweet juices of life from her frail being taking only enough to bind them together, so he would have contact with her mind no matter where they were.
Darius spoke in a gentle manner to her mind, “It is time for you to dream of your mother and the rose garden.” As he spoke the words ever so softly those visions appeared in Mikayla’s mind and she drifted into a deep hypnotic state, oblivious to her surroundings. Just what Darius had wanted. He then stopped his feeding ritual and licked the two pinpricks closed on Mikayla’s shoulder, healing them with his saliva.
Mikayla’s father stirred in his chair and said, “Hurry up and get on with this.”
Darius rose up and gave her father an evil intimidating glare and grabbed Mikayla’s nightgown raising it to her waist he slid his hands up her petite thighs. Detesting what he was going to have to do, but knew it had to be done. He ripped her under garments from her body with one gesture of his hand, exposing her silky tight curls of blonde and creamy flesh so silky and smooth, parting her knees very widely and stepping in between them. Mikayla’s father sat up in his chair to get a better view of what was about to take place, sloshing whiskey over the side of his container, while licking his dry vulgar lips with his tongue.
Darius then brought his fingers to his lips and spit salvia on to the tips of three of them, and then he touched them to Mikayla’s soft young gathers between her thighs delving his fingers in and out. Then he reached down and adjusted his leggings exposing his hardened mass. Sweat beaded his forehead hoping that he would not injure her badly but he knew the salvia he inserted into her would have her totally healed by morning. Even though Mikayla was old enough to wed, Darius had wanted her to be a fully mature woman for their first encounter. Placing her in a trance like state was the only option he had to end her pain and suffering, once and for all. He closed his eyes and entered deeply into his very young life mate, hating himself for this horrid action he had to do. He grabbed her hips and thrust into her several times. He didn’t want this to prolong, so closed his eyes as he dumped his seed very quickly into her somewhat virgin like tightness. Feeling like he could destroy himself for what he had done he pulled out of her quickly and readjusted his leggings.
Mikayla’s father jumped up from his chair already exposing his genitalia, he was hard and throbbing from molesting lust and was ready to mount her.
Darius said, “Not now old man, we have to talk.”
Mikayla’s Father scowled,” You got yours, I want my turn.” Trying to shove past Darius.
Darius grabbed her father by the neck with one hand and picked him up and slammed him into the wall, a good two feet over Darius’s head.
“I told you not now, we have to talk!” Darius slid him down the wall until his feet touched the floor and shoved him out the door.
The old man quickly readjusted his leggings. Darius went over to the bed and picked Mikayla up and laid her head gently on a pillow and covered her body with blankets. He reached down and kissed her forehead softly and whispered he would come back for her and for her to sleep peacefully. He took Mikayla out of her hypnotic state, but left pleasant dreams implanted into her mind for a restful slumber. Darius then left the room shutting the door behind him.
Pushing the old man down the steps in front of him, Darius saw the kitchen and pushed him into the room .The kitchen was littered with old whiskey bottles, rotten food and dirty pots and pans, the walls were stained with food as if someone had thrown plates of food against the wall, and the smell was grotesquely stifling of mold and filth. The old man staggered and fell into the table knocking a whiskey bottle to the floor. Darius reached down and scooped it up gracefully, took the cork out and gulped down three huge swallows. He sat down in a chair and told the old man to sit down also. The old man groaned low in his throat but obeyed. Darius looked around the kitchen it was dirty and filthy and a rat was eating left over food on the counter. It was not even frightened off when they had entered the room.
The old man grabbed the whiskey bottle and poured himself another drink and asked Darius, “What is the meaning of this?”
Darius got up from his chair and went over to the counter and grabbed the rat with one graceful motion, the rat hissed at him and wiggled violently in his hand. Darius reached down and bit the rat’s head off; he held the convulsing body over his head and let the blood drain into his mouth. The old man was so shaken by what he was visioning that he fell out of his chair. He scrambled to his feet and sat back down quickly, staring at Darius with wide-eyed horror. Darius threw the rat into the corner of the room, licked his lips, and wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand while throwing his head back laughing wickedly.
The old man grabbed the goblet of whiskey and swallowed the contents in one huge gulp, with his watery eyes he stared at Darius and spoke softly,” Jesus Christ, you are a demon from Hell.” Making the sign of the cross, across his chest with his hand.
Darius laughed, “I am not a demon, but keep in mind, I am one never to be crossed, or you will suffer unimaginably. I wanted to prove my capabilities to you. However, I am a man just like any other. I always get what I want, when I want it.”
Swiftly Darius grabbed a chair, turned it around backwards, straddled it, and sat down. He stared at the old man for a moment, “I want to purchase your daughter... name a price!”
The old man about choked on his whiskey he was drinking. Then his evil mind started churning with signs of silver coins. “How much are you willing to pay for her? She is very delectable. With a very tight sheath I might add!”
Upon hearing this, Darius wanted to kill him! Rip his heart right out and hold it in front of his eyes so he could see it beating before he died. However, Darius knew he had to keep somewhat calm for now. “I will give you one thousand pieces of silver for the girl!” Darius would give a million but he knew the old man was desperate.
“Why do you want to buy my daughter?” The old man wanted to know.
“It is none of your business old man; I just want her is all. She will have a very good life, but I do not think you would much care anyway, seeing how you have turned her into a prostitute, you are lucky she has not cut your throat in your sleep.” Darius leaned back and stared at him with deathlike eyes.
The old man lowered his head trying to avoid Darius’s uncomfortable gaze, running his hands through his greasy hair and sweat beading on his forehead.
“I don’t really care what happens to her anyway. Been a pain in my arse every since her mother died, I will take two thousand pieces for the snot nose whore.” The old man spat out. Hoping the whole time he was not asking too much for the little wench.
“There is one thing though; I cannot take her with me now. However, no man, and I mean no man, is ever to lay a finger on her from this day forward, until I return to get her. Is that understood? If I find out you or any other man has touched her in anyway I will make you wish you had never been born, what I did to that rat a moment ago will be nothing compared to what I will do to you! Understand me?”
The old man swallowed hard and shook his head in a terrified agreement, and asked, “When will you be returning for her?”
Darius hated to reveal this, “It is undetermined at this time; however, I will know if any harm comes to her, and for your sake it better not!”
“Very well, no harm will come to her, I promise you as a gentleman.”
“Believe me Sir, No gentleman prostitutes his daughter and then sells them to a stranger.” Darius smirked.
The old man replied with a haughty attitude, “No gentleman purchases a slave for two thousand pieces of silver for some child tight piece of arse either.”
Darius had to control his temper with all his being at this point, “So true old man, so true. I have had enough of this meeting our business is concluded. All I need to do is pay you and I will be on my way. I have the means to pay you in my carriage.”
Darius stood up, “Follow me out to my carriage.”
The old man nodded in agreement and they walked out into the darkness.
Darius looked up into the night’s sky, the storm had ceased its madness, the clouds had started to drift away and he could see the full moon glowing with splendor through the cloud breaks. Darius walked up to the carriage and the coachman handed him a large leather pouch.
“Thank you, Simon” Darius stated as he took the leather pouch from his coachman.
“Your welcome, Sir” The coachman replied.
Darius reached for the leather pouch and tossed it to the old man. “I would have paid a lot more.” Darius told him and laughed again, “Remember! I will be back for her one day; remember your promise to me. If you value your life you will remember daily.”
The old man nodded nervously in agreement.
The coachman swung down from the carriage and opened the door for Darius to climb in. Darius got in and the coachmen shut the door, then he swung back up into the seat and struck his riding whip and the six-team carriage lunged forward and out of sight.
The old man stood there staring in the direction they left, swearing under his breath that he should have asked for more silver. He then turned towards the house counting his pieces and dreaming of all the gambling he was going to do and all the whores he could purchase.
