Wagers of Sin: Time Scout II by Robert Asprin, Linda Evans
Authors: Robert Asprin, Linda Evans
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money, slept with you! I hate you! All you wanted was a chance to sneak away and make a bunch of illegal bets!"
"Now, Agnes-"
"I could lose my job!" Tears in her eyes sparkled in the lamp light, but they were angry tears more than fear. "I can't believe you would do this to me." She hugged both arms around herself and refused to look him in the eye.
"Look, kid, you're a nice girl. I happen to like you a lot. But business is business. Good God, Agnes, you take a bunch of bloodthirsty perverts to the arena to watch men butcher each other, you ferry around zipper jockeys so they can rape prostitutes in downtime brothels, and you don't bat an eyelash, but let a man make a little wager-"
"Get out of my sight! I wish I'd never laid eyes on you, Skeeter Jackson! If I thought I could get away with it, I'd ... I'd maroon you here! That'd be rich, leave you stuck in Rome with all the people whose money you swindled!"
Skeeter gave up. He'd broken up with his share of women, although he rarely understood why, exactly, but he'd never had one react this violently. Well, there was the exception of Margo. She'd said a few choice things to him, after she'd found out he wasn't a time scout after all. And he hadn't even managed to get her into bed!
All of which was useless to pursue. He would miss Agnes' company, particularly in the sack, but the amount of gold in the pouches at his belt was more than incentive to dismiss her serious overreaction. It'd only been one little day's wagering, for God's sake. Yesukai would've been singing his praises to the entire clan around the cookpots.
Oh, well. Easy come, easy go. So much for this scheme. Guess Ill have to come up with something else that doesn't involve a downtime gate. Of course, with his winnings today, he could take all the time he wanted, deciding his next intrigue. He left Agnes sitting in her private room at the Time Tours Inn and rejoined the festivities in the dining room, aware that she was crying as he shut the door, aware of a pang of guilt down inside himself, but also aware that she'd brought most of her anguish on herself.
Sheesh. One little bet.
You'd have thought he'd stolen her heart or something. Women. Can't figure 'em, any way you look at it. When he got back to TT-86, he was going to march straight into the Down Time Bar & Grill and get roaring drunk. Hell, he'd buy drinks for everybody there and get well-and-truly Mongolian drunk with friends. After the fit she'd pitched, he deserved a little celebration.
Maybe he'd even find someone willing to console him in the privacy of his apartment afterwards. Some sweet, soft-skinned tourist willing to assuage the sense of loss and loneliness he couldn't quite dismiss as he entered the raucous main room of the Time Tours Inn. Yeah, that was the ticket. Wine and women. Age-old cure for what ailed the heart.
Skeeter put on his best smile and wondered how many pockets he might have the chance to pick before the Porta Romae Gate cycled a few hours hence.
The thief had taken up lodgings at an inn situated pleasantly on the Aventine. It bustled with customers. Lupus paid both boys and watched them scamper off, then stepped into the crowded room. A few people gave him odd looks, but he was served with good food and better wine than he'd expected. The man he sought was in a far corner, all smiles and triumph, talking to a plain-looking slave girl who smiled at him the way a well-bedded woman smiles at a man who's tumbled her frequently. Lupus hid his own smile as they left for more private surroundings, then heard the beginnings of an argument through their closed door. It ended with the thief storming back into the main room, thunderclouds in his eyes, whereupon he struck up a lively discussion with the nearest girl.
All does not go well, then, between master and concubine. He chuckled, finished his meal, and left the inn to wait for darkness. All he needed to do was wait until the guests bedded down for the night and the
"Now, Agnes-"
"I could lose my job!" Tears in her eyes sparkled in the lamp light, but they were angry tears more than fear. "I can't believe you would do this to me." She hugged both arms around herself and refused to look him in the eye.
"Look, kid, you're a nice girl. I happen to like you a lot. But business is business. Good God, Agnes, you take a bunch of bloodthirsty perverts to the arena to watch men butcher each other, you ferry around zipper jockeys so they can rape prostitutes in downtime brothels, and you don't bat an eyelash, but let a man make a little wager-"
"Get out of my sight! I wish I'd never laid eyes on you, Skeeter Jackson! If I thought I could get away with it, I'd ... I'd maroon you here! That'd be rich, leave you stuck in Rome with all the people whose money you swindled!"
Skeeter gave up. He'd broken up with his share of women, although he rarely understood why, exactly, but he'd never had one react this violently. Well, there was the exception of Margo. She'd said a few choice things to him, after she'd found out he wasn't a time scout after all. And he hadn't even managed to get her into bed!
All of which was useless to pursue. He would miss Agnes' company, particularly in the sack, but the amount of gold in the pouches at his belt was more than incentive to dismiss her serious overreaction. It'd only been one little day's wagering, for God's sake. Yesukai would've been singing his praises to the entire clan around the cookpots.
Oh, well. Easy come, easy go. So much for this scheme. Guess Ill have to come up with something else that doesn't involve a downtime gate. Of course, with his winnings today, he could take all the time he wanted, deciding his next intrigue. He left Agnes sitting in her private room at the Time Tours Inn and rejoined the festivities in the dining room, aware that she was crying as he shut the door, aware of a pang of guilt down inside himself, but also aware that she'd brought most of her anguish on herself.
Sheesh. One little bet.
You'd have thought he'd stolen her heart or something. Women. Can't figure 'em, any way you look at it. When he got back to TT-86, he was going to march straight into the Down Time Bar & Grill and get roaring drunk. Hell, he'd buy drinks for everybody there and get well-and-truly Mongolian drunk with friends. After the fit she'd pitched, he deserved a little celebration.
Maybe he'd even find someone willing to console him in the privacy of his apartment afterwards. Some sweet, soft-skinned tourist willing to assuage the sense of loss and loneliness he couldn't quite dismiss as he entered the raucous main room of the Time Tours Inn. Yeah, that was the ticket. Wine and women. Age-old cure for what ailed the heart.
Skeeter put on his best smile and wondered how many pockets he might have the chance to pick before the Porta Romae Gate cycled a few hours hence.
The thief had taken up lodgings at an inn situated pleasantly on the Aventine. It bustled with customers. Lupus paid both boys and watched them scamper off, then stepped into the crowded room. A few people gave him odd looks, but he was served with good food and better wine than he'd expected. The man he sought was in a far corner, all smiles and triumph, talking to a plain-looking slave girl who smiled at him the way a well-bedded woman smiles at a man who's tumbled her frequently. Lupus hid his own smile as they left for more private surroundings, then heard the beginnings of an argument through their closed door. It ended with the thief storming back into the main room, thunderclouds in his eyes, whereupon he struck up a lively discussion with the nearest girl.
All does not go well, then, between master and concubine. He chuckled, finished his meal, and left the inn to wait for darkness. All he needed to do was wait until the guests bedded down for the night and the
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