then the woman would take his money and move on. This was great news. Shanti would be able to dart in, grab a uniform, and better disguise herself within the camp.
Shanti kept pace easily after they had passed, skirting between tents and hiding in the black shadows while the man made his way to his bed. Only once did the couple run into another person—a man in a crisp black uniform with the red circle etched across the breast slashed with three lines. A Graygual officer. He’d looked at the staggering man with a hard eye and straight face, but except for the thinning of his lips, made no comment on the man’s drunken state. He didn’t seem to notice the whore at all. She might as well have been invisible.
Shanti’s intended choice of disguise changed instantly.
When the couple reached a small tent on the very edge of the encampment, Shanti crouched across in the shadows and waited. The woman led the man inside and then lit a candle. The flame flickered to life, the soft glow allowing Shanti to watch through the open flap of the tent as the whore begin the tedious labor of undressing him.
“Okay now, you get out of dem trousers, hmm?” the woman said in a husky voice loaded with a thick accent.
The man grunted then burped. He dug his hand into her top as she dropped his pants. A loud, wet fart ripped through the tent.
The woman rolled her eyes as her hand found his mostly limp manhood. Ignoring his fumbling hands, she worked him for a while, staring away from him with professional patience. “You go get to bed, hmm?” she purred.
“Mmmrr maa nuun.” The man burped again and swayed on legs made of jelly. He nodded in an exaggerated way, his eyes drooping so low he looked asleep on his feet, before lunging toward his cot on the far side. Unfortunately, he misjudged the position of the small table in the middle of the space. His foot caught the table leg, throwing off his already impeded balance. Numbed hands groped for a brace that wasn’t there before the man toppled over. He fell directly onto his face. Another fart flapped into the room.
“Oopsie,” the woman said as she adjusted her top. She made no move to help him.
Acting quickly, Shanti tore off her hooded cloak, untucked her shirt, and ripped open her top until her breasts were mostly exposed. She stepped into the tent. “Can I help?”
The woman glanced up with a scowl. Hands on her hips, she turned toward Shanti with a haughty expression. She was twice her size in the waist, and three times her size in the bust.
“He be mine, honey.” The woman raised her chin. She didn’t bother to look behind her at the man struggling to pick himself off the ground.
“Yes, of course. I just meant, can I help pick him up? He looks too big for you to navigate.”
Painted black eyebrows settled low over eyelids shadowed in pink. “Navigate, huh? Fancy word. I not seen you around.” The woman’s shrewd gaze traveled over Shanti’s clothes, paused for a moment on her bust, then rested on her hair. “That hair not be naturally black. Not with light eyebrows. What you put in it? Coal?”
Yes. She had. She’d never claimed to be great at disguises, but usually men were too stupid to notice when a hint of breast peeked out. Whores, however, were extremely observant it seemed.
“Look,” Shanti said in a placating tone. “I’ll help you set that mark to rights. You’ll never get him on the cot by yourself—he’s just about to pass out. If he doesn’t think he got something from you, he’ll come for his money, and you’ll be punished.”
The woman glanced at the man lying limply on the ground. Gravity had been too much for him in his drunken state. He’d given up trying to stand and decided to sleep where he lay.
She looked back at Shanti with her hands still on her hips. “What you get out of it?”
“I want to trade clothes.” Shanti rubbed the fabric of her cloak and then that of her shirt. “This is fine material. It’ll fetch a nice price.”
“You no whore, girl. You not from around here, neither. Where you from? You sound like them.” The woman jerked her head at the man on the ground.
“What does it matter? You’re doing what you need to, and I’m doing what I need to.”