Title: Thieves

Author: R Schultz ( cousindream@MSN.com )

Fandom: Not inspired by Star Trek

Series: Nor VOYAGER. Part of the Red Mouser Über Series

Rating: R for a few things like violence.

Pairing: Über Janeway/Seven (Red Mouser/Sevein) f/f love mentioned.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Trek. This ain't Trek. Nyah, nyah, nyah! Go away. Go swim in your swimming pools filled with untaxed profits. I write this for fun. F**k ViaBorgCom.

Summary: Tar-Trigon is a walled city with effective sanitation, barbaric punishments, murderous cut-throats, Temples by the score, a ruling council of Sathridin, daily religious festivals, hundreds of living Gods, and a thief or two. Thieves in Tar-Trigon have a Guild with Apprentices and Masters, just like the Goldsmiths and Shoe Makers. In the course of their work, Thieves here have to deal with Gargoyles, Imps, Devils, Demons, Spells, Curses, Mermaids, Enchantments, Magic Wardings, Potions, Poisons, sharp Swords, Wizards, Cutthroats, Witches, diseases, Faeries, Gremlins, Kobolds, plaque on teeth, Trolls, Sprites, Dwarves, card cheats and worst of all, city Tax collectors. If a thief gets caught, he or she might sit in the Throne of Superb Delight, where they peel your skin off. There are many Ghosts in Tar-Trigon as well. Into this mix stride two companions, who also happen to be hedge wizards, lovers, and minor white magic practitioners. The Red Mouser is termed thus for the cape of mouse hides she wears. And then there's tall blond Sevein. Beautiful, comely, and dripping with barely controlled menace. Sevein throws large axes. Both are capable thieves, and neither fights unless it's necessary. Professional warriors rarely do.

Warnings: Mention is made of female loving female. If this irks you, do not read. 28,000 words, Oct. 2003.

Written for Round XII of the Femme Fuh-Q Fest -- http://www.oocities.org/femme_fuhq_fest/ -- before being posted to the ASCEML. MMay be archived elsewhere if permission is requested first.

Comments to: R.Schultz at ( cousindream@msn.com )



THIEVES

by R Schultz



There were two limestone Kites sitting at the tops of the gate. Scavenger birds. Menacing appearing for all their being made of grayish dolomite rock. Both turned their heads with a faint rasping of breaking gravel as Sevein and I sat down in the angle of glass-topped wall and pave.



Neither Sevein nor I bothered to eye the suspicious gargoyles. Instead we made ourselves comfortable, intent on a moment's peace. We broke out a chunk of dark Rye bread wheel, and Sevein knifed out thin wedges of white thick-rinded cheese to go with it.



Alerted by the rasp of the Kite's voices, a Gate Guard came out on the street to glare at us. His partner stayed at the gate whilst the first trudged over to us. He unsheathed his sword as he came to us.



"Move on," he said, grounding his battered scimitar in the patterned stones.



"We're just sitting here," Sevein returned, but I laid a hand on her arm. Not worth an argument, my motion said. We gathered ourselves, and moved downstreet a few hundred meters and sat ourselves down against another wall there.



The guard grunted, and he dragged himself back inside the compound, ignoring the raspy comments of the gargoyle birds.



My mind saw the last of my little mice scoot around the gatepost, scurrying inside the courtyard filled with pleasant fruit trees, servants, and curved benches. Through the eyes of my enraptured mice, I saw two black-haired gardeners continued on with their ministrations to the growths under their tender care. One nibbled on a piece of freshly sliced Pomegranate before continuing inside the kitchen.



We pretended to drink from our empty canteens, relaxing in the warm morning sun. Invisible to all but the most scrutinous eye were two lines of liquid seeping through the ground on their way to the same inner courtyard destination.



Once inside, each magical Golem raised their heads of water to gain their bearings, quickly scurrying to become nothing but a stain of moisture on the trunks of two trees. A guard dog relieved himself against the one bole, his warm fluid mixing into the body of the water-Golem. Now it even had the scent of a creature that belonged in that compound. The Golem minded in the least, of course. In a few seconds the dog waste could become a stain of salt against the ground. But it wasn't necessary -yet - to lose the dog's gift.



Magically, since it was composed of virgin's blood and life force, the ever-vigilant Demonish guardians of the merchant's property were unable to see the water Golems. They were White Magic, hedge wizardry, born of Mother Gea. Nothing akin the magic of dark Demons, like most magic. Water hurt denizens called from the lower depths anyways, so they avoided water and dampness. The Water Golems were invisible to creatures of Demonology.



The other Golem raised itself into a little puppet figure, standing on its legs of water, twisting its neck of water as it gauged where to go. It decided on a wing of the house adjacent to the kitchen. It would diminish or grow as it evaporated or absorbed water from other sources about it.



We would both wander by a few days from now, and re-gather our little spies. Some of the mice would die in the interval, but I had released eight of them when I sat down for my bread and cheese.



There was no hurry to our information garnering. We had made no decisions regarding our next target. So we gathered knowledge on all of the possible targeted households of wealth in the interval. Some night we might sneak our way inside this very household, with blood pumping and nerves afire. Some night we might relieve them of jewels and gold and trinkets.



But not tonight. Tonight we had another pleasure to drink.



We got up, dusting ourselves off, and wandered down the road, and then down a turn, another, and eventually arriving at the side wall of an ex-Sathridin. Not only one presently retired from the ruling council, but a well-to-do merchant and banker, a friend to the high and mighty of the city. Sathridin were the men who were the Council of this city. They were the acknowledged leaders of the community, and jealous of their wealth and power. All Sevein and I wanted was a little of the wealth.



We passed by the iron-weave gate, and sat down around the corner.



One by one my remaining mice-spies returned to me. Just three came back to my mind-call, out of the eight released two days ago. We unstopped our canteens, and eventually a water-Golem climbed carefully into one. Just the one.



Something had happened to the other.



My hand stole into my jerkin pocket, caressing, touching the always wary and frightened mice. I mentally interrogated my rodent spies, and eventually one presented a picture of a young Wizard, an apprentice or new Journeyman, passing down a corridor. He suddenly turned back, and bent to look under a chair in the hall. He found only a thin puddle. He tasted it and prodded it with his Pin, his Wand of Power. But by this time it was nothing but water.



Sevein's water-Golem had destroyed itself in the presence of a Wizard's magical Aura and inquiry, as it was supposed to. The Aura of a Wizard or Witch was stark, bright, malevolent and painful to a construct of White Magic. Sevein and I both could usually tell the presence of an artisan of the Black Magics by their glow. Black blood red tinged with green and yellow.



Water Golems were Sevein's little secret, her hedge magic. They were akin to the blood intelligencers common to midwifery, but were creatures of a virgin's power. Not flowing blood. Virgin's Blood could charm a Unicorn, pacify a Wyvern or a Griffith, or blind an Angel. A creature of the Dark Arts did not normally even see virgins or their blood.



Midwifes learned of what they faced within the woman about to give birth through the use of such Golems. Sevein used her Golems to learn of what lay inside a heavily guarded and magically warded fastness. The same way I used my expendable little mice.



The almost-discovery was unfortunate, as it deprived us of the knowledge of things it had seen. Worst, it might have excited the interest of the young Wizard. If so it would be on guard for the return of the water Golems.



We shall forego further present interest in this manse. Just for now. The presence of an alert Guardian of the master's Wealth always excited my interest in the master and his gold.



For the present, our interest lay in the Inn VOYAGER, its mistress, her daughter, and the crew of ruffians who nightly turned away custom from the Inn. Especially the brigands.



Mistress and Widow Wildman had spurned a Priest in the Temple of the Sun God, of the Temple of The Truth of the Day, named Chakay. He was one life away from being the chief High Priest of the city's largest and wealthiest Temple.



The murderous clique of villains belonged to him.



We turned into the Inn, sitting at our ease against a shadowed wall between Inn and stable. I unloosed a small measure of grain along the wall, and released my surviving rodent spies. They feasted greedily as I called new spies to me. Sevein seemingly refilled our canteens, actually pouring part of the Golem into the other canteen and recreating two Golems from the water pump's bounty. We knew we would eventually need to create new Golems. Nothing lives forever. Not even Golems.



Noises came to us of the larger brewery being built kitty-corner across the square from the VOYAGER Inn. A worthy Master Brewer had been lured to this corner of Tar-Trigon from his previous master to this new location. A little gold and the almost half ownership of a new and large facility was sufficient lure.



There would be the matter of smell once the brewery was operating at full capacity, but in a modern city like Tar-Trigon a few odors bothered few people.



Its location was a Godsend to the VOYAGER Inn. No more trying to run an Inn and also cope with a tiny beer-making facility in a room alongside the main hall of the Inn. Now they could have hundreds of hogsheads for the asking.



Samantha was the owner of the other half (and a fraction) of the new brewery. She would enjoy the money a brewery might bring in. Sevein and I would enjoy the good beer.



Sevein and I paid for the Brewery with the gold we stole from the city tax-farmer. Though only one man knew of the fact.



Emil, our Master Thief and Master Coppersmith had handled the money side of it, as well as the negotiations which prompted the Brewing Master to leave his previous employer. Emil also was a Doctor and a good negotiator. As a shadowy and hooded conspirator he'd quietly arranged the rebuilding of the decrepit warehouse into a brewery.



The Brewery was already operational and today the first barrels would be produced. Sam Wildman was celebrating. Today the first beer was free with a meal. We would use our new pewter tankards for OUR beer. No more stinking leather tankards for us, not at the VOYAGER. Forty new pewter tankards were coming, once the metal smiths had finished them.



The VOYAGER was acquiring a definite air of quality.



The VOYAGER was doing better than it ever had. Still, no one could leave or enter after dark. Chakay still ran his blockade with his hired thugs. But the lack of commerce once the sun had set seemed not to have harmed Sam or her Inn very much. Not any more.



The cost of hiring the thugs continued, but the effect daily diminished. Chakay had hired dozens of spies within the Thieves Guild (which included professional spies), to discover Sam's benefactor. Alas for him, all to no avail.



Someone unknown continued to support the VOYAGER Inn.



We both considered the money as well spent. And wondered who the other benefactor of Sam Wildman was?



Sam herself bustled over once we had entered through the back door, guiding us to a small side table between kitchen and bar. She brought our personal tankards over to us, already mostly full with a fresh reddish-black brew.



The Inn was well customed for dinner today. There were even a few bravos of fair-to-middling quality to both ends of the main hall. Sevein and I toasted to the confusion of Chakay.



Harry Kim and Tom Pare came forward to join us. Foolish males. They were ever hoping to persuade each of us to open our legs to them. They were persistent bravos, though not unseemly in appearance. As thieves ourselves, we took no notice of their precarious employ.



Inspiration struck as they smiled at us. I quickly turned to Sevein and asked her if she had any objection to pleasing our suitors. She wrinkled her nose at the idea, but held her tongue, waiting for me to finish.



"You may have to make a new pair of simulacrulum," I said.



By the time Tom and Harry pulled up stools to join us, we had put on smiles for the pair. I had a plan and Sevein was agreeable. Tom Pare nearly fell off his stool when I smiled at him. Harry nearly fell off his when Sevein patted him on his thigh. Then she left her hand there.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - -



We'd had a mildly interesting night at the warehouse where we were the night watch. There were the standard Imps guarding the four loading bay doors and the smaller entrance. Such creatures were no impediment to anyone of even moderate skill in the Black Arts, but their demise would warn Sevein and myself. There were four small windows and three fireplaces, but they were barred with good forged iron and competent wards.



Our first night on the job we had deduced the roof was the most likely approach for any theft. As for what we were guarding, none of it interested us. Was it mew incense burners, hogsheads of tobacco leaf, kegs of sealed spices from far lands, boxes of cloth, pipes and amphora of cheap wine, flasks of good quality lamp oil, bundles of dried bat wings and boxes containing glass bottles of eyes of newt in aspic? It mattered not. It was the usual assortment one could find in a thousand warehouses throughout this central continent.



We were paid to be its guards, so we never even thought of stealing so much as a hand's-square of damask. Our honor was our word, after all.



We lived thereafter on the roof for much of the time. We had knotted ropes anchored to the bases of the parapet, and could slide to ground level, inside or out, in less than a minute.



Boredom was the big enemy. So we left our clothes on and made casual love frequently. On rainy nights we huddled in our canvas shelter and made love even more frequently. But we remained alert. Sentry-go to sentry-off.



Eventually a small band of robbers threw a grapnel up, and scampered up the rope to our rooftop and into our armed hands.



All four had more sense than to fight, especially since they could see our naked steel in our hands. There was but star light, but bright enough to see for all that.



The older male made a circling sign with his left hand, which we knew was a question in the local Thieves Guild hand-patois. I pretended not to notice, and gave the thieves a choice: they run away, swiftly, or we turn them in to the watch. As an indignity they had to give us all their coins. One thief fell whilst hurrying down the rope, and from the noises made he must have broken something.



His problem, not ours. As a favor to a brother Thieves Guild member we'd turned them loose. Their clumsiness was nothing we felt guilty about.



What they'd meant to steal also didn't interest us. Today or tomorrow or next week it would be gone on, and no longer our responsibility. If jewels or gold lay in a box, it still would have made no difference. We'd given our word when we hired in. A hired Charmigion had foresworn us, just in case.



The targets of our own thieveries were the richer citizens of Tar-Trigon. Not the faceless warehouse in our care. The pay as building guards was not much, but it was more than sufficient to purchase our bond.



Come with the dawn were the scrawny black male Counter and Clerk for the warehouse, and his two apprentices. He arrived with his own armed house-karl. A normal enough business day.



The pair of young male apprentices fanned out to count their goods, while we exchanged a few comradely lies with the house-karl, a big Isaurian with a bad jaw scar. He'd been at Aschelion we learned, on the losing side. Eventually we two were dismissed with a wave and a grunt. Our work was finished for the night and we trudged home to our attic room at the VOYAGER Inn. Along the way I picked up two and then laid down quartets of mouse spies, and let loose both water Golems near the gate of a household we had never visited before. The mice and spies would await us two tomorrows morning hence.



By the time that we arrived at our home, our Inn, Chakay's ruffians had left. Samantha's daughter Naomi set us a bowl of cold soup with real pig meat chunks in it, and City bread, hard crusted and piping hot fresh from the oven in back, with a little nicely sharp beer from across the square. We took our well-breakfasted bodies off to our pallets on the floor.



Only Emil, and probably Tom Pare and Harry Kim, knew we had any gold. To everyone else in Tar-Trigon we were a pair of mercenaries with sharp blades and nothing worth risking your life over to steal.



Actually we had little on us. The loot had been left in Emil's tender hands and was in any mind mostly gone by now. It's expensive setting up a brewery.



Our attic room had air and a few clean blankets for our bed on the floor. We needed nothing more. We also had no inclination to subsist in greater luxury. When we moved on, nothing would be left in our wake but a few trifles.



Sevein made a little lazy love with me before nodding off to sleep. I was beginning to like it here in Tar-Trigon. Yet my finely honed sense of paranoia told me I should have to move on, eventually. Maybe soon. But for now I fell asleep with Sevein cuddling against my back.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - -



Phlox was his name, and he was introduced to us the next day by Emil, the Coppersmith. They were both fellow physicians; doctors, blood-letters, priests of the Gods of the healing arts. Emil was our Master in the Thieves Guild, and we were nominally the Apprentices to him in the art of thievery. This was a formality to allow us to be regularized as part of the Thieves Guild of Tar-Trigon. Today Emil brought us four together to allow Phlox to propose an endeavor.



The both of us were masked, for safety's sake. We spoke little except to Emil, so the 'guest' should not recognize our voices or even our genders. Phlox had a cloth over his eyes so perhaps he did not even know who he dealt with. It was enough to him that his guide in bringing him to this decrepit and empty tenement was supposedly a Master Thief.



Phlox was a fussy, moderately plump being, with irregular side whiskers. He was a Nomurean, from the port city at the mouth of the Great Trigon River. He had traveled the thousands of leagues north to find a Treasure.



He had found it, in a matter of speaking. His Treasure was held by a rich ex-member of the Sathridin, a merchant with a taste for fine art of unusual aspects. The Treasure was once the property of his temple and city before invaders had stolen it. Phlox wanted that Treasure back.



Through negotiations a third party had already discovered that the merchant was unwilling to part with the Treasure. Unsaid was the part where offers of money must have been made. Such an offer was either rejected (an unlikely prospect), or the offer was not high enough to suit the new owner. Thus Phlox had come to the Thieves Guild.



The merchant with the Treasure was the one with the in-house Wizard who had almost discovered one of our Golems.



Phlox was suspicious, and reluctant to name a price before we had his Treasure for him. Phlox was a reasonable man. Emil told him a price was necessary beforehand. No promise of gold, no theft.



We whispered a query to Emil as to what the Treasure might be. Phlox reluctantly answered. It was a pile of bones. Human bones, that of a young female child.



It was a religious thing which drove Phlox. Centuries, millennia, a long time ago, the daughter of the founder of his particular Temple in Nomurea, had sacrificed herself. Legend stated the city was under siege and the beloved daughter had sacrificed herself upon an altar to gain the favor of the local God. Once the girl had sacrificed herself (poison, evidently) a terrible rain had washed away the siege works of the invaders and Black Plague had followed into the camp of the besiegers.



The city and the religion had taken the bones of the girl and covered the relics with gold and silver and precious gems, which turned the relics into a treasure. The bones were not only sacred to Phlox' Temple, they were worth a great deal as bejeweled objects as well.



As an amusement I called up a few rats during the negotiations and had them scurrying about. Despite having the clothes and manner of a person of some immoderate rank, Phlox was calm and unmoved. Emil, however, was extremely agitated by the rats chattering presence. Therefore I allowed the furred pests to slink off. It took an hour and a half more in that airless ruin before Phlox and Emil agreed upon a price.



As it had taken almost all of our gold to build the brewery, we were looking for a new rich man to rob in any case. That it was the one with the alert and active Wizard-Guard simply made it more interesting. Sevein hated the way my mind worked. A dozen rich households were easier prey, but she knew I was already mentally accepting the task for the challenge alone.



We did not make any obvious pledge on the matter, but we promised any answer by the end of the next day's night. Phlox was not terribly joyous with the delay, but he accepted the fact that any thieves might have reservations about breaking into a particular stronghold.



As we rose he wished us all a good day. Politeness to thieves.



Once outside and many houses away, Sevein pulled me to her, her fingers hard in my shoulders.



"No," Sevein said. "There's a suspicious Wizard living there. Even if he's a youngling for the breed, he can spell disaster."



"I've a plan," I replied.



"Of course you do. You always have a plan. Why do they all eventually devolve on us grabbing and then running like every Devil in a thousand leagues is on our trail? And don't you DARE to rub me soothingly on my rump! This is not a thing to be cozened away with some smiles and honeyed words in my ears."



In that surmise, of course, she was wrong.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - -



When it came to some things, a man would believe anything, provided it followed his desires.



I deduced that Emil could not take me home for a possibly romantic meeting, as his wife might object bitterly. But he might close shop (and toss Tom Pare out on his ear) for an undeserved respite from beating copper with small hammers, and selling bowls to stingy house slaves.



Of course the stinginess of wives and household slaves, at least, was logical. If the budget was such and such a number of silver coins a week, for a household, the slave or wife would keep the remainders as their own.



At any event, as planned, I had 'accidentally' met the Doctor-cum-Coppersmith at a nearby coffee-seller's cart, earlier that morning. We stopped to gossip over wonderfully smelling fresh coffee, as acquaintances might. He was agreeable to continuing our talk on the lip of an ancient and ornate fountain which was also nearer his shop. He accepted a sliver of cheese from my side bag, and I accepted it when he placed his hand on my thigh.



We repaired to the back atrium of his shop where he gave me a little sweet wine watered two to one and a comfortable cane chair to sit on. Emil once more let his hands wander and linger as we sat in the shadowed side of his little inner courtyard.



As I had suspected, Emil had a mate and two girl children at home. Of course his wife did not understand the troubles he had. She also spent more money than he could afford, and she made Emil handle all the other affairs of their life.



I explained that because of the problems of bearing children and being a mercenary at one and the same time, my relations with men I found interesting was sadly enough quite limited.



We were smiling quite a good deal at each other by the time my bowl of wine was empty. After Emil had sent Tom Pare and his two Coppersmith Apprentices hiding for their lives, I let him lean against me and tell me how attractive he found me.



This was after we'd enjoyed a few preliminary kisses. The result was that Tom Pare and the apprentices had re-discovered Emil (when facing a romantic encounter) could have quite a temper. Emil was especially irritated when his mind was on his female guest. Especially if faced with the prospect of a little sex with the comely and unaccustomed wench.



After I had found his erection and massaged it a few times, I suggested that the shop be shuttered for a short period, during which we might find out just how close our friendship might be. Emil had quickly closed the shop and chased away Tom Pare and his two apprentices.



I warned him in advance that any adventure we had would in all likelihood never be repeated. He readily assented, though I knew I should hear of his undying love many times in the future.



Alas for one apprentice, said unfortunate was forced to squat outside the Coppersmith's doorway while the shop was closed. His duty was to placate any custom arriving and finding the premises barred with the grate.



For a man Emil was not altogether unpleasing. He was well enough formed for all of being scrawny, and he was willing to spend some time in pleasing me with his tongue first. He was enchanted to discover my Mons to be quite devoid of hair.



Sevein and I had made a habit of visiting the Baths of Neelix every other week and luxuriating in cleanliness and shaven groin. Jean-Luc the Barber was persistent, but it were unlikely either of us would let the scrawny bald-pate enjoy our wares. Emil, however, sampled. He was relatively skilled with his tongue. Emil was clumsy and inattentive, but for a male an admirable representative of his alien species, at least in this respect.



He was especially tender when I explained that he would have to come into a patch of silken cloth. He would retain sensation, but his essence would be prevented from reaching deeply inside me and beginning an unwanted pregnancy. Of course I had all the usual and proper spells and JuJu's, but it always paid to be cautious.



He was so pleasant about the entire affair that I allowed him to sample my wares again. I shan't tell Sevein about the second time we made love. Fortunately I had another square of silk handy.



I also decided not to mention to Sevein that I enjoyed myself.



This was a mistake. That night we were on top of our warehouse and winding up into a nasty argument when I realized by some instinct that Sevein had enjoyed herself with her man also. Journeyman Thief Harry Kim had been given a very enthusiastic ride in her saddle, I soon confirmed.



After all the dust settled we apologized and made a little slow love, there above the sounds of the river. It was against practice for us, but we became adventurous and removed all our garments for the occasion.



Thus it was that when another trio of thieves threw grapnels onto our roof preparatory to another attempt at robbery, we were in no mood to be diverted.



As the first one put a hand on the parapet and rose up, we pushed him away from the parapet. Then we chopped the leads the ruffians were climbing the walls on, and yelled at them as they fell to the bricks below. Sevein agreed with me that another inept thief had obviously broken a bone or two. We both commented on the sad state of thieves' abilities in this modern age. We kept the grapnels to present to the day clerk and his crew.



The first one had bugged his eyes on seeing he was faced with naked females with sharp steel in their hands. He must have thought we were some form of evil Sprite come from Hell.



Afterwards we went back to making relaxed love.



The things we do for a few pieces of brass.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



A mermaid's face leered at us across a few meters of cold black river water and made threatening noises at us. Lisping through her sharp teeth, she cried softly for her toll. We kept a wary eye out for her fellow menaces and we each flipped a small gold piece at her. A webbed hand instantly snatched each out of the air and the placated mermaid disappeared.



We didn't enjoy paying so much for a smidgin for a spell of dubious safety, but the mermaids here were honest thieves. Once paid their set and standard fees, they left us alone in our cairn amongst the riverbank boulders.



It was miserable enough hiding here without having to pay for the privilege. It was wet, extremely cold and boring. Fortunately not any worse than standing watch in many a post or caravan. Keep your head down, your eyes open and be ready to run, either forwards or back, depending. Being a mercenary was not an easy occupation.



Earlier this night, while passing a trio of slatterns working the riverboat trade, we were reminded there were considerably less appealing ways to earn a brass farthing or so. We might die violently some night, but that were a better way to perish than the one those female wracks would eventually garner.



Now we hid along the river's edge, waiting for the newness of the night to dwindle and the vigilance of the many guards to dissipate. This was an island of rich homes, and there were more guards about than ever sprang from woman's loins.



We stole onto the pave of the river road, wary and with swords in hand. Once above the river, we quickly dashed to a bit of shadow in a wall's lee. We took the first precaution and liberally dusted our feet and legs with our own devil's mixture. Once worn our scent was invisible to Demons, Dogs, men, Imps and Wizards. It was ground Red Pepper, laudunum and powdered calves blood. We did not use charms and potions unless we had to. This way even without magic making our auras glow, yet we were invisible now to the many creatures about us. Too many thieve relied on dubious spells. We relied on our own formulas. Our concoctions were lacking the spikes of enchantment that awakened the interests of Necromancers.



We scurried to our target fastness. A water Golem let us know when the guards had passed by this section of wall. Soon we had secured a place on the wall of this stronghold-cum-household. Numerous rags lacking any smell but that of aged cloth provided a padded and safe enough perch on the glass-sharded edge. A line trailed down the wall to a secure anchor driven deep into a chink in the pave. The line snaked over the wall and down into the wide courtyard. We then hurried to a spot around the corner where we repeated the procedure. Once over we spread a sticky camouflaging mixture on this second rope lifeline.



We now had only minutes before the guards repeated their leisured circuit of the inner walls. They would have two lesser Demons tagging, therefore it was impossible for them to miss the first rope left dangling in the air.



Quickly now, Sevein spun her lasso and snagged the noose about one of the projecting tiled chimneys on the south side.



In a second I was up and climbing inside a second-floor window. My mice had told me it was left unlatched. It was a flaw in the security of the Main House. It was a small window, but one that even Sevein could crawl through if she were given enough time.



I now found myself in the Library, which also housed the indoor shrine to the Sun God. The rayed orb gleamed in the dimness, but I was not after the plated beauty sitting on a rod above a porphyry altar. Immediately I strode across the carpeted room, hurried through the door, and across and down the corridor to the Master's Trophy Room. Once inside I could almost see with the memory of mouse's eyes the few oil paintings hung on the walls, as well as three somber statues standing to the sides. I sped to the drapery by the tallest statue, one of a long-dead Goddess impaling herself on a sword in a most obscene manner.



My fingers found the small cloth bag and the key secreted within. With it I opened the hidden cavity in the wall alongside the entranceway. Inside the bones lay. A black bag came out of the small of my back, and I scooped the treasure inside. For good measure I tossed inside four small ornate silver goblets adorned with many gems, and a bag of gold coins.



If given time, I could have cozened and bewildered the Imp mindlessly warding the entrance to this treasure room. The seconds left me did not allow such leisured stealth. Therefore, of course, the alarm was raised by the minor Devil once I had passed the threshold of the Sanctorum.



The Wizard awoke with a vengeance, but by now all three of us were going our separate ways. Two male masked villains glowed heavily with potions and enchantments of warding as my few words brought them to life. The protections kept them safe from the house Demons, but they were bright as flares now to the Wizard's eyes. Breathing hard, I exited the small window and slid down into Sevein's arms.



Two guards ran out of a small guard's building, while the two already on watch yelled and kept station by the discovered rope.



The young Wizard levitated himself out a back window and flew around the sides of the house to the commotion and discovered rope. As the Wizard and guards and Demon conversed, the Wizard espied motion by the front of the Main House. Suddenly two figures ran out of the shadows, there by the side nearest the south wall, and pelted towards the main gate. The Gargoyles gave a screeching warning, and both the Wizard and guards turned to the desperately fleeing masked figures.



The Wizard was floating in the air, so he arrived at the small pedestrian gate first. A wave of his hand and the gate shut in the faces of the yelling figures. Both supposed thieves turned and drew knives. The guards halted for a moment, but the Wizard plucked the swords out of the hands of the two figures, and immobilized them while the human guards warily came forward.



The Guards were already boasting of what punishments would come to the thieves even as the Wizard settled to the ground. Belatedly four large tan and black dogs came bustling up to the scene. Their confusion was evident, as was their shame at failing in their duties.



The Master of the House came running up as the guards and the Wizard carefully pulled the masks from the discovered bandits.



Unknown male faces stared back without emotion as the Master ran back to see what was missing from his artifacts and treasures, or gold.



Suddenly the Wizard knelt and carefully prodded one of the swords on the ground with his Wizard's Pin, his Wand.



The two swords vanished in a flurry of dust.



Startled, he rose up and went to touch the face of one of the captured villains with the Wand.



Instantly both figures crumpled into nothingness within their rotting strips and shreds of cloth. Each figure had been constructed from the essences of a male seed given us in patches of silk.



Emil and Harry's seed was mixed in milk, Shaman's herbs, sour wine and fresh virgin's blood. The resulting Golems created looked like neither Emil nor Harry, nor yet unlike them. Their independent life would have been short in any case, but their facades of life had drawn attention away from us for quite long enough.



The young Wizard's howl of rage was magically enhanced and so loud that it reached the ears of both Sevein and I as we floated down the river on our hidden raft. Most nights it were unwise to attempt a crossing via the bridges when the Watch posted armed men on those spans.



The raft had been fastened together from ropes and wood during our many hours on the roof of the warehouse we guarded. Two nights ago we had rafted to a spot on the New Island's shore, hid it, and calmly walked across a bridge once curfew was over.



Now, tonight, we had pushed off from shore with it, floating on the current, and heading for the lee shore. Along the way a pair of Mermaids again came alongside, looking for their toll of gold. We paid or we would soon be drowned. Sevein and myself considered it just another all too necessary an expense. In minutes we were safely on the near shore and cutting the ropes tying our little raft together. The freed logs and beams of wood sped downstream even as we turned back into the city.



Soon we were hiding in the shadows, with the comfort of eaves and roofs overhead. We were now almost safe within the precincts of Tar-Trigon. Now there was nothing to connect us to the outrage committed on the New Island excepting our bag of loot. To the casual eye we were naught but common sorts sneaking home in defiance to the curfew. Each of us were keeping an eye out to avoiding the Night Watch and their rapacious curiosity. While inside the bag I carried were the jeweled bones of a long-dead female child.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



By this time we knew a dozen routes to the rooftops, and carefully availed ourselves of one such, rising to the night airs. It was from there that we espied disaster as soon as we crept to the steep eave of a tile-topped residence roof.



Angry boiling clouds of flame were leaping in the distance. Of a sudden we had a bad sense, a premonition of what was burning. Something was infernally alight, and the light was in the direction of the VOYAGER Inn.



It took us longer on the rooftops, at first, but soon we were moving faster than the gawking crowds in the streets below.



Both VOYAGER and the new Brewery were on fire.



Without asking we both knew Chakay was responsible for this deadly mischief. Without being espied, we set out loot carefully down and gaped at the blazing loft we had but hours before termed home.



Wells worked hard produced streams of buckets sped along by many desperate hands, but the most they could do was perhaps prevent surrounding buildings from also going up in flames. Even that was a faint hope. There was little anyone could now do excepting to stare and pray to their respective gods that the fire didn't rage out of control and produce a new swath of destruction all the way down to the river. Old rivers of flames had cut cleansing surgeries in this city before this, as fire had produced havoc and embered ruins elsewhere.



We had lost little, and we had not lost our lives. Therefore we unhappily congratulated ourselves on our comparative good fortune. But we were unhappy and depressed to realize Chakay had won, although much of the city might pay a fearsome price for his victory. Unlike some, professional warriors of any sense did not relish destruction for its own sake. Burnt cities had less need for mercenaries and paid a lesser wage.



Life must go on, however. We backtracked to a building we could scale down on, and wended our way forward to the blaze.



Sevein was the one who first noticed the small green frogs leaping past us. They stayed to the corners and untrodden ways, but we stopped to gape. Within sight in this narrow way between houses were five or six small green frogs.



The crack of the first thunder bolt overhead drew our attention to the clouds which had darkened the sky. Then a second, a third, a small crescendo reverberated along the zigzag streets.



The first patters of rain fell into our faces even as we finally made a turn and could directly see the roofs blazing ahead of us. The next signs were flashes of lightning upwind, quickly coming our way. After that we could hear the struggles and hisses as a rain began to fall into VOYAGER square.



Most onlookers stayed to see the rain struggle with the fire, though a few left for cover.



Soon very little of the flaming roofs could be seen for the roiling clouds of smoke generated as rain turned into dirty steam and the fire fought for dominance.



To our amazement we stood not a hundred meters away from a corner of VOYAGER and found vision of the structure was lost in the deluge which now spewed from the skies. I looked to Sevein in some bemusement, realizing for this moment how dear she was to me, how sweet she looked to me, even with rain water dripping from her chin. Then I observed she was staring at the ground.



Within sight there must have been twenty little green frogs, and this were but a small part of the square.



A loud scream, as of steam escaping from a vent, came to our ears, and returned our attention to the fire. We'd been to the Shaking Ground of far Pathay, and had seen and heard the wonders of the hot pools and geysers of water and steam there. This is what we now heard; the squeal of hot steam escaping as if from a narrow hole in the rock.



A creature, probably less in size than myself, was standing on a burning gable of VOYAGER. Once we had lived under what were his incandescent feet. Now he lived in the fire, and hissed its anger at the cooling rain deluging from the sky.



It was a Fire Salamander.



Voices raised in awe, easily heard around the square, even with the rain and the burning buildings.



One never saw a Fire Salamander, not on Earth, not as one might a newt or a horse. A Fire Salamander could only live in the heart of a blaze. And this one was being doused by the flood of rain striking it in its own fury.



It hissed again, as an angry plume of incandescent flame forty meters long was spat at the clouds above. In return a bolt of blinding lighting came down and squarely struck it. For an instant we could see its bones of potassium and yellow sulphur, then it was once more whole and glistening black with heat.



A flurry of rain brushed across the square, and when it were abated, the Fire Salamander was no more to be seen. In that moment the hiss of water upon the flames grew louder, and the cirrus of flames grew less.



The flames would linger for hours, perhaps, but even if the rainfall would suddenly stop, the fire was now on its way to dying. In the fact, it began to rain harder.



Suddenly suspicious and knowing, I looked about for Belanna, the High Priestess of the Rain God. She was not immediately in sight, but I was sure she was somewhere about. In the meantime the entire crowd of people had seen proof positive that this fire had been ignited by magical means. Only Black Magic of a high order, probably seventh level or better, could conjure up a Fire Salamander of such size and virulence. Even so the summoner risked being engulfed by its nasty beastie.



By late morning all the city would know this double fire was an act of deliberate arson. Whatever his power and boughten influence, Chakay had endangered the entire city of Tar-Trigon, and he must inevitably garner some Council anger in return from the city's ruling Sathridin for his most arrogant act.



However, even if the offending Wizard was found and questioned by the Sathridin members, it was improbable that this Wizard could be proven guilty, or might implicate Chakay. But even now many would know the truth of the matter.



It was small consolation for Samantha Wildman, her daughter, or the bereft Brewmaster.



As for ourselves, we wondered where we could lay down our newly acquired wealth for the moment. It would not be wise to be walking about the city openly with our bag of stolen objects.



We faded back into the shadows, and retreated to a nearby route upwards. We moved a few roofs away, and with Sevein holding tight to my legs, we placed the bag temporarily under the overhang of a previously reconnoitered building. Three beams of ancient wood almost came together there, and I could wedge the treasures firmly into the shadowed spot therein. A little tricky in the still-falling rain, but nothing unlike what we hadn't accomplished other times in other places.



On the ground, Sevein kept glancing behind us, but neither of us saw anything. I shared her sense of a watcher observing us.



We went to the Inn run by Emil's creature for him. It was late, or early, according to differing reckonings. Curfew was not yet over. This Inn owner's assistant was not happy opening his back door for us, but he did so. The lackey recalled we knew the owner, Emil. We wished to doss here, and the servant judged us needing of a roof. So far as we knew this Inn was an honest establishment, in so far as Inns go.



The harried lad grudgingly accepted our dual stories of being burnt out of our previous place. As he remembered us, he therefore believed that the Owner would be hearing of any refusals to his acquaintances in need. Perhaps he even felt a morsel of pity as he watched rain water dripping off our noses.



We were allowed to huddle next to the main fireplace in the Commons room, and for a few pieces of small brass he sold us firewood to induce the warmth and light to increase there.



We did not feel very charitable towards Chakay at the moment.



The assistant even brought us some bread and wine. Paid for, of course; but cheaply, and not expected from him. While he was pouring wine he put down the third bowl and poured a full libation therein.



Then he stood there with a third chunk of bread, looking incredibly confused.



"Wasn't there a child with you?" he asked. We looked askance at this, but said no to his query. "Why did I feel sure there was?" he asked himself aloud. He shook his head and went back into the kitchen. To such as him, most of life itself was a mystery. A new one centered his attention for moments only.



Sevein looked funny at me, but I didn't know what he was jabbering about either. We slowly ate our bread, washing it down with the well-watered but surprisingly pleasant red wine. Sevein, with the warmth making her slightly hungry, went to eat the extra bread. There was only a child's handful left now.



"Wasn't this a larger wedge before?" she asked. The third wedge was beyond any doubt much smaller now. In addition, the third wine bowl was almost empty now. Suspicious, I looked carefully about us, looking for some thieving Imp or Gremlin.



Sevein stared at our shadows on the plastered wall opposite.



By the flickering light of the hearth, there was imprinted there the shadow of a small figure huddled between us. We saw the shadow of a small figure that was not there.



"Sevein..." I began, pointing at the figure which was busily laying itself down for rest or sleep. "I think we just inherited the ghost of a small female child. A small child who once wore the bones we stole tonight."



In reply the shadow roused itself and stood. It came to my shadow and I think kissed it on its hair. She -- it -- moved to Sevein and also, perhaps, kissed her, as a child might. Then it seemed to lie back down to sleep. I had sensed no menace.



I wondered if it was the first portend of trouble and hoped not. There were benign ghosts. But there were also unhappy ones. The unhappy ones could cause a lot of trouble.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - -



The room cost way too much coin, but beggars, as they say.



In the warmth of late morning we exited and went to those weavers which we had discovered our first day in Tar-Trigon. We bought four reasonably almost new and fresh blankets for our new attic room. On the way back we had them cleared of pests by a male Witch who asked for too much money, but we paid it. We picked up a skin of sweet white wine, a few sausages, and went back to our new abode. We needed our sleep.



Even so, well before evening we dropped by Emil's Copper Shop for a few new eating utensils, and to contact him about our loot. We left with Tom Pare, and casually sauntered past my cache. We could see the bag still where it should be, and left Tom to somehow get it down without rousing too much curiosity. He was the creature most at home on the roofs, or so he said.



Then we went to see how things were with Samantha Wildman, her daughter, and her present prospects. The Inn and Brewery were both badly used, and rancid smoke still blighted the square. But neither structure was completely consumed. In fact, to our unpracticed eyes, they both appeared repairable. But at what excessive cost we did not know.



Sevein said to me out of the side of her mouth: "I fear I know what the results of our night's thievery will be used for, don't I?" Her gaze in my direction was decidedly pointed.



Belanna was there before us. Three small green stones on a cord were looped around her lovely neck and down her enchanting side. They appeared to be small green frogs. One might almost assume they were genuine frogs except for their immobility and the fact of their being worn.



I smiled at her and at Sam. Naomi hastened to Sevein upon seeing her, and leaped into Sevein's arms. Sevein took Naomi upon her chest, and proceeded to walk about the singed square, comforting Naomi as if she were but a newborn babe. Naomi folded herself into those long strong arms and softly wailed into Sevein's chest.



Sevein always was good with children of either sex. They could sense, perhaps, an honesty of emotions about my blond lover. Whatever the reason, Naomi now tearfully weeped in her ear and complained to Sevein, reciting a long list of tiny treasures and favored spots to hide, all now gone forever.



Sam wasn't in very much better shape.



Belanna was hugging the big buxom woman and staring at me. She almost managed a smile at me, constant visitor to her temple that I was.



Then the smile went away. She stared at something past me. I quickly turned, finding the cause. In the light of day the shadow of a child clung to my shadow's tunic with one hand.



That was a bad sign. Ghosts visible in daylight were strong ghosts. If others could see them I would have to be zealously careful about the visibility of my shadows.



Belanna must have been prescient, for she turned to Sam and asked her a question.



"Sam," she coaxed, "how many shadows does Red Mouser have?"



The big-breasted blond peered questioningly, but then looked surprised at Belanna.



"I see the one," she said. "How many should I be seeing?"



"You are quite correct, dear friend, there is nought but the one shadow. My eyes are always full of tricks. It comes, I fear, from too much proximity to too many Gods."



That was comforting to me. If the ghost could be seen by Sevein and myself, and Belanna, but no others, it were a particularly strong example of the breed. Most ghosts are entirely creatures of emotions. They live off memories of anger, grief, confusion, forlorn hope, vengeance, denial, stubbornness. All ghosts were boiling with an unknown purpose, but few had any understanding of themselves or their condition. This ghost, I feared, had altogether too much purpose. My only hope was that it had no pent-up rage for me.



Belanna then told Sam that mayhaps it would not cost too much to rebuild both the Inn and the brewery. Which expression set Samantha off on a tangent of grief and incoherent anger. Sam had never struck me as one of those useless females who could not bear adversity, nor one of the ones with those with deadened souls. The ill-lucked wracks who expected nothing but disaster followed quickly by ill-fortune.



However, Sevein had Naomi elsewhere, and for the moment Sam was amongst friends, and Belenna allowed Sam to drape herself over her smaller frame. Belanna made it possible for Sam to release some of the grief new in her, strong for its freshness. In an hour or three or maybe only minutes, Sam would be back together and seeking to find some way to survive her impasse.



Two short squat powerful men approached our little tableaux of grief and doffed their square-topped Carpenter's Guild hats.



They had come to begin the rebuilding of both Inn and Brewery.



Sam's unknown benefactor was clearly at work again, beginning the process of renewal.



Shedding tears minutes before, Sam barreled suddenly into conference with the Woodworking and Carpentry Masters, fellow guildsmen and other tradesmen present. She recovered swiftly, and I stayed about to find what information I could hear. For some reason I nearly FELT a tug on my jerkin, and looked down to see the hand of the unseen little girl wanting me to go somewhere to the side, nearer another building of the square.



Once there I found I could clearly hear all the words which passed between Sam and the two Masters.



They had each been given a bag of gold to begin the work. The total cost was far from covered completely, but it was enough for them to begin the work of clearance and then rebuilding.



It depressed me greatly to know that Chakay would receive nothing but satisfaction from this night's evil work. The Masters carefully asked about the fires, and Sam confessed that she herself had seen the Fire Salamander cavorting in the burning wrack of her domicile and business.



The Guild Masters shook their heads about this, worry thick in their glances. If someone was eliciting the aid of Fire Salamanders there were none safe within this city.



"We have a problem," the voice came to me from close by. For once Emil had lived up to his status as a master Thief, and had come near me unannounced. I turned my head and he stood close by, shadowed by overcast skies and overhanging roofs. When I carefully faded over to him, joining him in shadow, I looked a pointed question at him.



"My lazy Journeyman has found yet another reason to leave his bench. He said he had to deliver a package into other hands. Probably he is right now enjoying himself in some establishment with loose women and cheap wine.



"Word has also reached me (by other means) that he safely delivered his package. With this there was no major difficulty. All this despite the furor created by the fires in this square, and the clamor loudly shouted of the rapacious burglary over in New Island.



"Were you aware someone stole objects of immense value there? Oh yes, the Sathridin are upset, and someone has already attempted to contact one of the members of the Thieves Council. Or so I am given to understand. No doubt with an eye to regaining the precious items and catching the thieves, or so I am given to understand.



"Free your mind of worry and fear for your vast wealth, however. For our Sathridin are ever vigilant.



"They've arrested a stranger to our city, a man from the far south named Phlox. They claim he is the thief, and that the stolen treasures will soon be back in the proper hands."



- - - - - - - - - - - - - -



Emil's hands were persistent and amorous, but he eventually accepted my rejections. At least for the moment. He also revealed the story of the large Fire Salamander was already common knowledge all about the city. The entire populace therefore knew it was Chakay who had released the dire menace of the Fire Salamander within the City walls.



Chakay might never sit in The Seat of Superb Delight and have his skin removed centimeter by centimeter, but everyone seemed already to have accepted his guilt and expected his denial of said guilt. The Council had already met, exploded in rage and fear, and accepted Chakay's protestations of innocence.



A busy morning for them already, and they were still in session. No doubt the outrage of the theft on New Island occupied a portion of their time and anger. Nothing upsets a rich man more than a threat to his wealth.



Evidently it was known that Phlox had been diligently looking for the bejeweled Relics once precious to his native city. When they were stolen, they'd immediately arrested him. If not the actual thief, they undoubtedly assumed he knew who the thieves were.



Sevein and I sat in a corner of wall adjacent to our new Inn and contemplated our possibilities.



We could always sell our loot for whatever the Thieves Guild Masters would offer for it as is, then conveniently fade out of the nearest City Gate and find new lives elsewhere. That might be the wisest course.



Chakay, however, had made us vengeful. Nothing we could not surmount, but it irked us that he'd slighted us again and was evidently going to strut off without retribution, free of any cloud or claim.



Sevein and I thought along similar lines in this. The going forth free part, we felt, was within our power to negate.



We could always assassinate him, of course. But our desire for retribution did not extend to our giving ourselves a particularly nasty and prolonged death afterwards. The murder of High Priests especially excited the Elite of a place. As realists, we also did not rely on the slow-moving wheels of justice grinding forward enough to reduce Chakay to dust. Justice was for rich men, not for such as us.



Even were we to discover the Wizard who'd summoned the Fire Lizard, how to force him to declare who had hired him? With nothing, really, to prevent him from reducing both of us to an interesting fatty charcoal smear on the pave for our efforts reward. Wizards were notoriously vengeful, and took even minor imagined slights in a very bad manner.



That left thievery.



We felt it wise to begin reconnoitering today. Indeed, if at all possible, to strike immediately. Well before Chakay or his tame Witches or Wizards would be expecting retaliation.



In passing we dismissed the use of Naomi as a continued donor of virgin's blood. A truly gifted seer might be able to trace the puddle of a dead water Golem to the taste of Naomi's aura. We must assume Chakay's wealth purchased the services of such a talented Wizard.



The place to find aid in this was in the Temple of the Frog God, Belanna's temple.



In the City stews we might find a child from whom to prick a drop of blood, but a virgin? Life was hard on children in a city. Belanna, however, entertained a constant stream of farmers from without the walls of Tar-Trigon. Farmers worried about the rain, the crops, taxes, and other such formidable but banal realities.



Viewed from outside, the Temple of the Rain God was nothing to awe, or humble. It was alike to a hundred others within these urban precincts. It did, however, have a High Priestess who danced like a succubus, looked like a Goddess herself, and was both religious and human.



A naked Belanna dancing upon their altar stage was, without doubt, one of the most enchanting sights ever to bless these tired eyes. Sevein jealously limited my visits to the temple to watch her dance. Four times a week was tops. She complained watching Belanna cavort in her dance of the twenty veils made me randy. She enjoyed the randy afterwards, but she needed to make her point. Not so surprisingly and personally speaking, I perceived a warming towards the petite lushness of Belanna by my blond beauty.



Meaning she warmed to the erotic sight of Belanna as well.



Today we arrived at the modest three-story wooden temple at a time when it was between dances. Or religious services if you preferred that term.



We knew the Chief attendant Monch by name by this time, and he warmly welcomed us inside and walked ahead of us to Belanna's reception room. Belanna did not hold with much ceremony in any case, and for us she indicated a bench slightly to the front of her ellipsoidal desk. She finished sanding a signature and sealing it with wax and boss. Still modest in the day's earlier garment, I nonetheless mentally recalled that olive flesh naked and writhing. During a service Sevein allowed me to watch from the first row now. Two days a week. I think Sevein was now able to admit to her own desires on viewing that sensuous dance of hers.



After business was done Belanna smiled at us, (oh I would love to kiss those rich lips), and she stood and quickly sat down between us. She seemed quite unaware of how much of soft warm Belanna impinged on my body and consciousness. Her hips touched mine as her scent did.



Sevein finally broke the silence and asked if Belanna was aware of the Magics of Midwives. Belanna was aware, and she casually held my hand, as well as Sevein's. Warm hand. Many calluses. She was a High Priestess who obviously did much of her own physical labor. I imagined those small fingers touching me.



"You know we are thieves..." Sevein continued. "You also know we steal but rarely, and then only from those with wealth. Such theft, we find, pays much better than the more middling kind. But in order to do so with any chance of success, we need to create our own little spies to discover the inner secrets of some fortified household..."



"So THAT is how you've acquired all those small red mice to make that ugly cape of yours! You can touch their little minds!"



My cape is NOT ugly. It's unique.



Belanna obviously had already discerned one of our greatest secrets.



"Could you rid the Temple of mice?"



Ever practical Belanna.



"I could," I admitted, "but in a few hours..."



"Of course," she said. "The Gods abhor a vacuum. If these present pests were to be driven out, new hungry ones would hurriedly move in to take their places." She shook her head. Such a pretty little head, all that straight brown hair with a slight curl, brooding eyes, smooth brows begging for a kiss...



We returned to the reason we had arrived at this hour. Sevein stated that to learn the conditions within a woman prior to her giving birth, the midwives would create a simulacrum to slip inside and return with the information necessary.



"You're here seeking my help," Belanna noted. "Therefore you need something beyond what might be found in any market..."



"We need a single drop of virgin's blood," Sevein blurted. "We need but that. We thought you might know some needy farmer's family, come to Temple, willing to let a drop of a daughter's blood for which we, you, would pay well. Afterwards they would be leaving the city in any case, richer by a large coin. The risk of a Wizard's tasting the child's aura through the diluted blood would be quite slight, but we would feel better if said child was thereafter far from Tar-Trigon."



Sevein had obviously been rehearsing what she might have to say to Belanna. My thoughts had been more on memories of the sheen of sweat on a naked gyrating Belanna than on the business at hand. Sevein had been practical herself.



"I think I might be able to help you," Belanna mused. "How large a gold coin?"



Gold? We hadn't mentioned gold.



"I've three families resting in our common room at this very moment, all with young daughters. All in dire straits.



"Would the blood of, say, eight virgins, confuse the scent mightily?" Sevein said it would totally do so.



Gold?



"What say four Quadra's each daughter?"



FOUR QUADRA???



Sevein winced. I winced.



"They all need tax money, or something akin to it, immediately. None of this would go for wine or waste, but for need."



Belanna's rephrasing of the oft-heard 'it's for a good cause' plea of alms gatherings everywhere. To soften the blow Belanna placed a hand on each of our thighs. Mine felt like a firebrand had fallen on it. Belanna had a lovely hand slightly smaller than mine.



Sevein looked down at the small hand on her long thigh, and still staring said; "Done." I looked askance at my partner.



"Good," Belanna smiled, moving her hands energetically on our burning thighs. "It's too bad it has to be children. Otherwise I could contribute a drop of my own blood."



It took a few minutes for me to understand. When I did, my jaw dropped.



"The necessary criteria of being a virgin is the retention of the hymen and never having slept with a man, had any sex with a male, isn't it? That hasn't changed, has it?"



Sevein was staring as well. She knew of the wanton displays of frantic flesh Belanna routinely displayed three times a day. Regardless of what she might say, I'd seen Sevien's rapt attention focused on the glistening naked charms of a sweaty Belanna during her dance. All that wondrous compact sleek female delight and still a ... virgin?



"It's one of the attributes necessary for a High Priestess of the Rain God. Didn't you know that?"



My mind was busy with variations on the realization that she didn't sleep with men. If at all, with whom then...?



"Now then," Belanna said with a cheerful voice, "can you tell me something of just why a ghost has taken such a desire to be in your company now? It is a benign fey example of the breed, that much I can tell, but it is strong and it is attracted to you, my dear Red Mouser. Granted you have many attractive qualities, but we both know much more is at work here than your sexual abilities, your looks or your magical aura."



With a glance at Sevein I began to tell the story of the heroine child in far Nomurea, and quest of a man named Phlox.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - -



It appeared to be a pair of wine skins, but it held our new water Golems. For once we were each freed of any gold in either of our money belts. It took ten Ragia to make a Gold Denara, and a Quadra is four Gold Denara.



Most of our silver had also gone to make up the amounts agreed to. We felt impoverished, but philosophical. We'd been mud brick poor before, and would be again. Only the wealthy thought they'd always be rich. Having taken part in a sack of a fallen city or two, we knew that were a delusion.



Much wealth was due us, even without the price once expected for the reliced bones of the child. There had been the cups with gleaming jewels in their sides, and the hefty bag of new gold coins. New coins were always a little harder to spend than commonplace worn smaller money. But most of that stolen treasure would be immediately spent in rebuilding the Inn and the Brewery.



The Brewmaster at least was still happily stunned to see labourers already wrestling with the char and damage of 'his' Brewery.



Actually Sam was owner of half and a fraction, but that mattered little to him. He was again swelling with pride. It was HIS Brewery.



His name was Hitalto, and he was young to be Lord of his own Brewery, and a major sized one at that. He hadn't yet realized that what burnt once could burn again. The thought lodged in my mind, however. He was an agreeable sample of his breed, and willing to sample his own brew with worthy sorts (even female) who listened to his tales, as well as to hear ours. We found him an exemplary sort, and warmed to him, even if male.



If we successfully burglarized Chakay's Household, he still remained a constant threat. We had unwisely thought he would eventually tire of this game, and let Sam be. Obviously Chakay did not think along those lines. We again considered killing him, but that remained too dangerous in the aftermath. A toad he might be, but he was almost High Priest of the richest and most powerful Temple in Tar-Trigon, and a confidant of Sathridin to boot. Killing him would excite the rich and powerful.



What to do permanently was a question we intended to defer until the morrow. For the moment we intended to make him pay twice or thricefold for his Wizarded arson. But how?



For that reason we returned to New Island, to the place where Chakay lay his head and his wealth. His Household fortress.



The place consisted of the usual high walls with glass shards on top, a stout gate of black wood and brass plating, and Demons. Dolomite Gargoyles resided atop sturdy posts every two to three hundred meters, and their ever-suspicious eyes followed us as we came down the wide lane along one side of the Household wall. Beyond the stout wall we could hear women and a child's laugh. A horse's whinny, and the banging of some metal being beaten. We detected the scent of some savory stew or soup being simmered for the morrow's meals.



Two black-haired Mountain Barbarians stood in front of the gate, and probably more of the breed inside. The guards were the least of our problems.



We saw a yellow and green Imp leap onto the wall top, ignoring the sharp glass. Another followed it, and a third, all lazily keeping an eye on the strangers come near. You find Imps, there are Demons nearby. Ever vigilant Demons.



And probably a Wizard. I could practically smell the gold from here, there was so much security.



Relaxing against the wall, we had a little wine and sausage. A stream of water was released between us, and a water Golem carefully probed underneath the walls stones. It followed the line of wall until it discovered a space between stones where water might travel. It returned within minutes, and Sevein gathered in preliminary data of inside the Household courtyard.



A pair of mice ran the circuit of wall until it discovered an old snake's burrow leading under the wall. They quivered in fear, but gingerly circuited the unused mouse-sized tunnel to the inside of the Fortress-like outside.



We were most careful in this endeavor, eventually letting two more water Golems to hide in the cracks of the inside wall. The three would eventually cross to the main building, and study the open areas of the main building.



The mice, no mystery to their appearance, would find and study Chakay and his treasures. I anticipated heavy losses to his mostly stationary guard Imps. Sevein and I expected a lengthy spying. Chakay expected his defenses to hold.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - -



Sevein had stated she allowed me to stand in the front row this day. She stood beside me and smiled up at Belanna as the High Priestess began to shed her wraps and body veils in her dance.



The day was hot and everyone in the Temple of the Frog King, the Rain God, was sweating heavily. Monch, the attendant and sub-Priest to Belanna, gave each of us a reassuring pat on the arm as we deposited small silver coins in his collection bag. By the time he reached the last viewer in the chamber, Belanna was down to her skin and wondrous gleaming virgin sexuality.



Sevein might deny it later, but she hungrily devoured Belanna with her own eyes as the young Priestess arched and writhed in front of the pair of us. Allowing both of us a sensuous view of her warm living groin. She quivered in place for us, just for a few seconds, but she was giving both of us a view of herself she well knew we appreciated. She edged closer to us, her body bent backward, her legs spread, until if I dared I could have reached out and ran my fingers through the divide of her marvelous femininity. Her plump hairless mound glistened with many undoubtedly scented oils and sweat. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I breathed in the musky pungency her sex exuded, and dreamed my not-so-private dreams. Sevein hurt my arm as she also suddenly leaned forward to gain a deep breath (perhaps) laden with the warm fragrance of Belanna.



The High Priestess was suddenly gone, moving on in the excited movements of the finish of her worship to the Rain God.



I bumped into the figure behind me, and suddenly all my nerves were afire and alert.



Behind me was a Wizard. My sword handle was in my hand and it trembled to the presence of Black Magic nearby. Iron does give you that warning sometimes.



Sevein and I turned slightly to view the sudden menace. A medium tall male stood there, smiling at us. In any assembly he would have stood out, for he was a rainbow of bright gaudy silken colors. He sported an Aqua coat with silver frogs and edging, as well as tight tied black silk pants and leggings. Yellow cream lace billowed from his white shirt front, and even more stiff lace frothed from his cuffs. He wore a gentleman's epee in an engraved scabbard sliding in a thin brown belt. In short, he was the image of the compleat and perfect courtier. If you judged the period he came from as that of a century ago.



He managed to smile at us both, a wide and engaging, but vague and supercilious smile. He edged one dark silk-clad leg forward in the best imitation of the Emperor's Court. At the same time he doffed his deep sea-green silken and elegantly gold-tasselated and fringed tricorn hat. Then he gave the two of us a deep and courtly bow. There was more than a hint of ironic humor in his toothy smile, and he delighted in our looks of suspicion and wariness.



There was little silence in the Temple chamber, for Belanna had finished her dance for the afternoon. The assemblage was breathing anew and exiting, leaving us with the Wizard and a feeling of things changing.



I felt a tug on my jerkin and knew the child-ghost was tugging at it to gain my attention. Sevein had drifted to my right, leaving her hand free to grasp her Labrys, her double-bited throwing-axe. Whether a killing assault might succeed was of little importance. Sometimes you attacked for it was the only possibility open to you. She was being protective.



The Wizard held out a hand, and I immediately had a knife in one hand and my sword in the other. Instead of backing off, this incredible fop put forward a be-ringed hand and softly fondled the head of the ghost standing next to me. Or at least where the head would be if she not a ghost. He grinned at my drawn metal, and deliberately let slide one ring-laden finger on the sharp edge of my steel.



His finger burned as it traced the cutting line, the flesh blackening and searing, the bone crumbling to nothing in the blaze. Tiny bits of char blew off the flaming digit in the fiery meeting of iron with Wizardry.



Incredibly the apparently wealthy young parasite merely stuck the blasted finger into his mouth, sucking on it. He drew out an apparently untouched and healthy finger, which he gleefully wraggled in front of my face.



But for the scent of burning meat nothing might have happened.



Suddenly Belanna was beside me, her hand idly touching the unseen head of my persistent wraithed cohort. I felt my little ghost lean against my leg, her arm curving around my thigh in an innocent embrace. Belanna came forward, swathed in an abundance of orange and tangerine satin, all crinkling in her movement. She looked down at my friendly ghost, then let forth a hand to the Wizard.



The archaic fashion-plate made another leg and bow, sweeping Belanna's hand into his own, where he touched lips to the back of her hand.



"Red Mouser, Sevein," Belanna said, "allow me to introduce Trelayne, Squire of Gothos. Squire Trelayne, I give you the redoubtable Red Mouser, warrior mercenary, and her boon companion, Sevein."



The dandy gave yet another courtly foot, bowing to each of us in turn. My best instincts were to either run or attempt to skewer this Wizard, but if Belanna knew him, I resolved to keep the peace.



"Charming auburn-haired lady," he smiled at me, "might I interest you, the trio of you faint fair damsels, in a small repast at my manse? It is but a rented accommodation, yet I believe I may promise the fairest of wine, the most colorful of fragrant flowers for our table, and choice viands to place in your incredibly beautiful mouths. To crown this sumptuous repast, I also promise you my own brilliant and witty company for a leisured hour or two.



"Do say you'll accept my invitation, won't you?"



- - - - - - - - - - - - - -



Personally I was unsure whether or not I actually tasted sweet wine or delicious slices of beef or ham, but my taste buds were happy enough. Wizards could do things like disguising swill and making you believe it was a lord's banquet.



This tasted wonderful, however.



Beginning of last week Trelayne had rented a large well-built residence with its own customary glass-sharded wall and surly gate-guards. It had been a novel experience to be invited inside such a household, rather than having to climb the walls.



As to location, it was in the older and less sought-after area to the east of Council Square. For all that, it was large and adorned with numerous glass windows able to catch the late afternoon light. An aged and scrawny black skinned majorfactorum, complete in antique periwinkle wig and tail-coat, opened the door for us and bade a pair of servants to take our surcoats and weapons. We kept the weapons.



Now we sat our ease at a massive cedar table which showed the effects of years of use, and ate from pottery which was uniform and pretty, if less than the fine China the truly rich ate off of. We displayed our knowledge by using brass forks and knives as if born to the task. We saw no sign of golden goblets or fine tapestries, but there were human servants and a forest of tapers burning in their sconces to provide light inside.



Add soft thin slices of meat and a pleasing, if biting, red wine, and we were obviously living beyond our usual means. Earlier we had been shown rooms (for our own usage) which included a large bed covered with white and peach sheets.



A Kobold was our servant for the nonce, and he pointed out a large iron bath next door to our room. To fill said bath a stream of cursed Imps already (gingerly and diligently) carried buckets of water, cursing in alto Demonspeak whenever a drop of fluid fell on them. There were near a dozen fragrant soaps in shelves about the rim, and many large maroon or amber-colored towels decorating racks and hooks within the bathing room.



A woebegone Demon appeared, wearing a wrist amulet emblazoned with the Seal of Solomon. It dutifully eased itself into the fresh water. It cried piteously in pain as the water reacted with his demonic nature and instantly became hotter and hotter, bubbles frothing about him. With a rasping sigh it lifted itself from the liquid. The Kobold sidled over to the tub, stuck an elbow in to test the degree of warmth, and peremptorily commanded another few instants of immersion by the unfortunate Demon. One presumed this Demon had done something onerous enough to earn the dark ire of Trelayne the Wizard. Having encountered the attributes of Demons on other occasions we managed to feel no sorrow at the plight of this one.



The Kobold smiled at us and added a few drops of fragrant rose oil to the now hot water.



It was not in our nature to turn down a luxury like this. Whatever scheme this Trelayne had, we would for the present enjoy his hospitality and his hot bath.



Afterwards three Mountain Girls in their head scarves appeared as our servants. They were tied to the rented estate, not Trelayne. They stated our old clothes were gone, being cleansed, and for the moment we were given satin Robes of Ultra and rich Yellow to wear. One of the girls offered to shave us, and we quickly had our armpits and groins relieved of their hair. Sevein made a few reserved offers for us to the barber, but she only smiled and declined. After the luxurious bath, and enjoying a clean body, (even expecting our due repast downstairs) Sevein and myself might have tarried upon that glorious clean bed for a little play. I'd privately decided it was at the moment of greatest intimacy that Squire Trelayne of far Gothos would suddenly appear to claim his male reward for inviting us pair of rough baggage into his fine home.



Why he found my aging self to be attractive I did know, but men were ever eager and besotten when lust came upon them. Bethought, males were also ever prone to fixate on women of limited appeal simply because a particular pattern of female beckoned to them. Mayhaps I was his type. After physical satiation some brand of logic or thought might return.



We waited in vain. In a few minutes the Kobold brought his small squat frame back into the room and presented us with our previous raiment. He said dinner would be in a quarter hour and would we like to rest until then? Meaning would we like to throw ourselves on that magnificent bed? He stated if we decided to stay the night, the bed would be what we slept on. If we so wished.



Or we could leave, though Squire Trelayne hoped we would stay for dinner.



Thus far Squire Trelayne had not appeared on the scene, intent on sating his undoubtedly depraved and masculine desires in my ripe, warm, soft and womanly flesh. I was not sure if I should be joyous or offended. Mayhaps he was one of that brand of necromancer which eschewed the company of sex in all its forms. Or females. He had not played the part of either.



The Kobold added that he hoped we would remove our boots if we lay ourselves on the large bed. The sheets would be hell to clean afterwards. It was somehow reassuring to discover the Kobold was a fussy sort, perpetual glower and fangs or not.



Downstairs we were greeted by Trelayne in an incredibly brocaded long (silken) surcoat with frogged tails. Gold and red stitched onto jet black, with a gold and green vest over a shirt ornated with much lace. The lace at his throat and cuffs looked stiff with starch; as if it would cut his throat or wrists if he made a sudden move. Added to the mix were white leggings and silver-buckled shoes to finish the extravagant picture.



Gliding into view next was Belanna, a vision which riveted all further attention from my eyes. Her feet were bare, almost hidden in long loosely blowing black satin trousers, with a sleeveless white blouse topping the pants.



"You're staring," Sevein whispered as she passed me. I could see Belanna's nipples clearly pressing against the cloth as she moved. Her smile clearly told me she both understood and appreciated my focus.



Trelayne's focus, however, was on me. He swept forward, grasping my callused hand and touching my knuckles with his fleshy lips. I could detect a scent upon him, not unpleasing, but not flowery as I would have expected.



"You are an adorable vision," he gushed. "My temporary home is blessed by such beauty. Will you please join me in a light meal? My day will be utterly destroyed if you say no to such a simple request by this utterly wretched being.



"Will you stay for a short while? I shall attempt to delight you with choice foods and spirited patter, though my larder and wine cellar I necessarily find limited in this time and place, and my wits escape me in your radiant presence. Do save me from despair and say you'll grace my company with your beauty? My eyes will feast on your obvious natural unstudied grace, your flawless face and your spirited character. Please do say you and your companion may enjoy my hospitality. You must, you MUST stay, do."



He just wants to seat his sword in my scabbard, I told myself time and again. Just like any male. Nothing strange to it. He simply wished to dip his wick in my oil jar. Nothing else.



Nonetheless it gave me a glow. Sevein gave me a glare. She knew full well my thoughts and wavering resolve. It felt rather nice to be the object of attention for once, instead of my taller, prettier and more amply endowed lover.



"We're not companions," I suddenly blurted. "Sevein and I are co-joined. We're lovers."



Where the HELL had the impulse for such blatant honesty come from so unexpectedly?



Trelayne kept hold of my hand, deepened his smile into an outright leer and risked a glance to my dear Sevein.



"I am indeed hard pressed to decide which of you beauties are the more fortunate to have the other.



"Might I simply state that your honesty becomes you, but only second to your loveliness, and that this despairing man will ever worship you from afar.



"Take pity on me, woman, for I shall ever be deprived of one of my greatest, if newfound, wishes in life. To hold you in ever deepening love and mutual devotion is my newfound goal in life.



"I have power, and wealth, and much that other men think precious and worthy. But my life shall forever be less because I may now never hold you in my arms. You see before you a man bereft of reason for continuing in this vale of sorrow."



For emphasis he covered his eyes with his other hand, the first never letting go of me.



A girl could get accustomed to this.



Belanna proceeded to clap, her eyes gleaming with amusement.



"Bravo, bravo," she said. "And what might we find in the second act?"



Unembarrassed, Trelayne was immediately the engaging host once more, escorting us three females into his dining hall.



The Squire held my chair for me, then for Sevein. Sevein had already sat down, but she re-stood, allowing our host to put her chair for her. Belanna simply sat and began snagging grapes from a cut glass bowl in the center. The table was far less than I had expected in a sumptuous (if rented) mansion. This table was small enough so that if we had leaned far over we could have touched hands all around.



I'd also expected a feast, and it was, but a small one. There were a half dozen items to choose from, and a white and red wine in separate goblets. Ham, beef, lentil soup, long beans with onions and such lay before us. Nothing splendid or ostentatious. No humming-bird's tongues in aspic or Brazen Mushrooms stuffed with salmon.



At first there had been a confusing dozen eating utensils in front of us when we sat, but the omnipresent Kobold quickly removed everything but two spoons, a two-pronged fork and a small cheese knife. No steel or iron there, all was brass.



We actually enjoyed our meal immensely. Trelayne attempted to play footsy with me, but I ignored him. But I was pleased by his persistence. Not to mention his smiles.



I'm over forty-five, and honest courting was not something I was faced with very often. Trelayne was vastly overdone with his words, but the courting was both brazen and forthright; honest if you will. At the same time I also tried not to stare at Belanna's nipples. They were lovely nipples, mind you. I'd seen them quite a number of times when she danced. It was different somehow when they were covered by a nothing but a little soft clinging cotton cloth, and sitting there in their loveliness almost within easy hand's reach. My hands knew they would feel exquisite pleasure with my fingers diligently caressing them. Nonetheless the simple food was perfect.



During the meal Trelayne managed to show off a few tiny magical tricks for his audience, reminding us he was, after all, a Wizard. He refilled our goblets with wine from small amphora, using nought but a wave of his hand. He peeled a number of grapes by magical motion, and popped them in my mouth. Then after a glare from Sevein he went back to telling us stories of a group of Pilgrims he had once encountered on the road.



He patted and then rubbed my butt with an unseen hand, but my glare and (I think) my ghost persuaded him to cease and desist.



Up until then the ghost had been merely an unseen presence, beyond her filching the occasional nibble of my ham and half-emptying my goblet of white wine. I felt like reminding her that you had red wine with meat, but then who could argue with a child? And a dead one at that.



Somewhere along the way, human servants and the Kobold cleared the table. Trelayne lighted a long clay pipe and indulged in his expensive and unhealthy tobacco-smoking vice. We ladies were escorted by him into his sitting room, where we all sat in vastly overstuffed chairs facing a cold hearth.



He asked if we would like a fire laid on, and Belanna hurried to request a few burning logs for the evening. None of us three ladies had made motions or words regarding leaving for our own domiciles. We had all evidently decided to undertake the Wizard's hospitality for the night. Sevein wasn't glaring at me anymore, at least. We had exchanged a quick kiss when entering the darker sitting chamber.



Whatever Sevein was thinking, I was thinking about that large clean bed with clean sheets upstairs. Alone and unused; virtually begging for our naked bodies to frolic on it.



Sevein and I hadn't made love in a bed for years. I also had the feeling I must needs mend a few fences regarding Sevein as well as enjoying myself. I promised myself not to mention my suspicions that Trelayne would magically view us in our love making. A small toll for our present comforts, I judged.



Trelayne opened his palm and a tiny spark (which enlarged into a minute Fire Salamander) flew through the air into the cold hearth. Suddenly the logs caught fire and the evil beastie flew back to Trelayne. As a dying spark it crawled up his lacey sleeve, apparently doing no harm.



He smiled at us all, leaning back and taking a puff on his pipe. Males always enjoy showing off their skills.



"I use Fire Salamanders a great deal," he explained. "Fire Salamanders are one of my specialties. As a matter of fact, I came to Tar-Trigon at the bequest of one of your city's leading citizens. I was hired to burn down a rival's group of buildings in this city, and damn the damage to other structures.



"A High Priest of this city forenamed Chakay hired me and paid copiously for me to travel far from my own country to do this damage. I came, thinking I would lay low a mighty Lord's extensive holding. Not a tavern and a beer maker's.



"Now, I presume you both are thieves, as I saw the pair of you with a large bag of undoubtedly stolen wealth at Voyager Square. I assume you are the gifted ones who so embarrassed a rich lord last night. And I might have need of skilled burglars. I would wish a subtle riposte of revenge on Chakay, and a loss to him of his wealth would suit me well."



- - - - - - - - - - - - - -



The essential point was that Trelayne was irked. His undoubtedly childish and masculine sensibilities had been offended by Chakay's gross misrepresentation of the salient facts of the enterprise offered him. The prideful child in him was offended.



That burning Sam Wildman's property was a violent act against an innocent bothered him not at all.



A reminder that Trelayne was, after all was said and done, still a typical Wizard. Arrogant, selfish, powerful, vengeful, accustomed to using arcane and Devilish tools. One stayed wary when dealing with Wizards, for their changing moods could mean havoc to oneself.



At the moment he was tentatively offering to be our allies, or simply to employ us in any viable scheme against Chakay.



Chakay had upset Trelayne. Therefore Chakay must needs pay.



He did not want to openly burn down Chakay's Household. He wished to be more subtle, and avoid the public outrage a second fire by Fire Salamanders might entail.



I thought this cowardly, but logical. Revenge is sweeter if naught of its resultant splash adheres to ones self. In fact our own determination to deprive Chakay of wealth by stealth was a form of revenge for his actions which had almost killed Sevein and myself, and put us from our lodging so violently.



Thus we sipped on well watered Brandy and took council with this untrustworthy Wizard and dear Belanna. It was a council of War and we exchanged plans and fantasies with the irked Wizard and the High Priestess. I had a naggling suspicion that I now knew who the other benefactor of Sam Wildman was. As to why, that might be discovered in the future, but I had a suspicion or two.



At the moment Trelayne was displaying a toy to us for our awe and admiration.

I knew what it was. It was a Wizard's Wand.

We had all returned to the dining area. Trelayne had sealed the doors and windows against entry and spying while we all continued our varied discussions. In order to improve the lighting our (friendly?) Wizard had created six vague balls of blue-white light which circled the room at a snail's pace.

Excepting a surreptitious hand on my thigh thrice or six times, Trelayne had concentrated on his explanations and his bragging. He had a goal beyond the obvious one of becoming a rider in my hopefully willing saddle, but both Sevein and myself were unapprised of it. For the nonce it was enough that wide vistas were being glimpsed. Wizards remained the most dangerous and untrustworthy of friends at the best of times, but the flow of new knowledge was enticing.

This Wizard had ignored many of our questions with evasions, but had launched into a disclosure of his Magic Wand.

Some called it a Pin, which is what Trelayne called his sorcerous aid. All Wizards needed some such device, he said, for true access into the labyrinths of arcane wisdom beyond this mortal plane.

"In actuality this Pin affixed to the end is an ancient wisdom termed a Chip, a pin. Mine is composed of many such Pins, and its power is thusly enhanced."

A globe of distortion appeared in front of the Pin, and in its distorted surface, the head of the pin increased in apparent size. We marveled to see the single solid head divide into a lumpy head adorned with many waving fronds.

"Those waving creatures are, I believe, Angels. The more Angels are dancing on the head of your Pin, the stronger the wand is. By my best count, there are 144XN58MK Angels there. Which means my Pin is strong indeed. I''m not sure exactly how many Angels that actually is, but there are many zeros in the accounting. Also, my Pin calls itself Computer and rattles off a word composing many trillions of trillions."

We stared in awe at how many Angels could be compressed onto the head of a Pin, and marveled at this Wizard's power in commanding so many divine beings.

We were not so foolish as to ask how he acquired such a pin, or what all it powers were, but we were indeed impressed.



In the back of my mind was the inevitable comparison of Wizard Trelayne with a young boy showing off his collection of rocks.



"And you are showing us this marvel because…?" Belanna asked.



"Because even though I have great powers at my beck and call…"



The Pin disappeared somewhere in his sleeve.



"…There are constraints on me and my many powers."



"One such…?" Belanna continued to probe.



"One such being that it were extremely bad for me if my word and bond were to become questioned. There is, after all, my reputation amongst other Wizards to be withheld. I do not wish to be thought of as one who resorted to tawdry revenge for the sake of petty displeasures."



He was the first Wizard ever to worry about such, if true.



Nonetheless Sevein and I held our tongues regarding our disbelief as to his motives. We might have an ally, so long as we distrusted his sincerity.



We pointed out that Chakay might have his wards and spells and Demons to prevent or limit magical damage to his Household Holding. Perhaps a simple physical attack was more sure of some success. He had been thinking the very thing himself.



For, say a half of everything gained in a burglary, he would assist us in ways pertinent to our plans and respecting his desire for anonymity. We do the crime and risk losing our skins on the Sathridin's Throne of Superb Delight, and he gets half the gold.



This at least was more akin to the style of Wizards known to us and everyone else in the world.



In the course of our speculations it came to light just how Belanna had become involved in this adventure.



Squire Trelayne had been physically present at Voyager Square while his large Fire Salamander had devastated Sam Wildman's poor common wooden structures. While performing a task not signatured to any other known Wizard in the nearby realm, he had witnessed the gathering of the Green frogs and the rains which eventually cooled his magical beastie.



For him it was a minute's work to divine Belanna and her Rain God's hand in this. Her God, Gogorol, had not prevented Sam Wildman's catastrophe, but it had limited fire damage to just the two target structures.



He immediately sought out Belanna (who was directing the rain from her modest Temple), and gave her his thanks and his charming presence. She invited him to a religious service in her house of Worship, and incidentally, to watch her dance. The rest was history.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



The unaccustomed Brandy had made us both a little woozy, but we had fought even though blind drunk, and survived pitched battles while bent double with sickness. A little light-headedness was nothing to incapacitate us now.



One of the Mountain Girls had lighted a trio of oil lamps for us, and left us to our own devices in our spacious bedchamber.

We'd lighted a few candelabra as well, appreciating the fact that our host was paying for the tallow candles.



I could clearly see the shadow of my little ghost past Sevein's side. The ancient waif sat herself upon a small table by our bed, sitting tailor fashion, obviously awaiting the two of us. I thought about how she was obviously awaiting our lovemaking, and the thought bothered me. She was, after all, a child, however many millennia old. But as she was also obviously a ghost, my worries were certainly groundless. Sevein glanced at her shadow and grunted in my ear. "Ignore her. Let her be as envious as she wishes."



Now Sevein stood before me, arms akimbo, with a beckoning look in her eyes. We might argue, but we weren't going to pass over such an opportunity for decadent living.



"Undress me," she commanded, licking her lips.



"And after?" I asked.



"After, if we have time, I shall undress you."



"If you have no time?"



After ten minutes of labored endeavor, Sevein was leaning against me as I pawed her warm scarred flesh and sucked on her truly wondrous nipples. She had just pushed me back and began undressing me when the soft knocks occurred at our barred door. We looked at each other, raising our eyebrows.



"Squire Trelayne," I wagered her. "Come to receive his tithe for his hospitality."



"It is the Barber," Sevein replied. "She had the glint in her eye when depriving us of our closest hairs, and has reconsidered my offers to her."



As we padded to raise the bar and open the door, Sevein asked if I had any objections to a third party to our impending loving? I said; "No, not on principal, but if she's an unclean wench we'll send her packing."



It was Belanna, still in her clinging soft clothes. She waved a stoppered flask at us, trying not to grin.



"I've a quantity of the finest virgin olive oil with me, dearest friends" she purred. "I thought it would be entertaining if I danced for two of my most devoted followers before the night was done. Would you like to watch me dance by candlelight? You can apply the oil beforehand. Afterwards…



"Afterwards we shall become closer friends. If you wish. Do you fine warriors wish?"



I felt my ghost crowd past me to take Belanna's hand and lead her inside. In the dark of the hall I could see my faithful ghost now, whereas she was invisible in the light of day.



"I must warn you, however," Belanna whispered in my ear, one free hand trailing down Sevein's naked flank. "Oil stains the fine linen sheets upon our beds. The Wizard's Kobold and household staff might be upset if we were to accidentally stain the sheets."



Belanna had unstoppered the oil, and dribbled a line upon Sevein's magnificent breasts. She slowly massaged the gleaming substance into my darling's large soft beauties.



"But then again, why should we care if those sheets get stained?"



My own thoughts were that if Trelayne spied on us magically, why not give him a show to remember for the centuries?



- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



We four were a perfect picture of normal respectability on the streets of the New Island.



Trelayne was perched atop a sturdy horse of dappled complexion, his gold-threaded hen a fine item sitting cockily on his head, a gentleman's epee slapping his side. His clothes were not too ornate, but of quality. In his wake trudged a well-clad serving girl with downcast eyes, accompanied by two house-karls, all three afoot. The guards wore identical dark burgundy jackets with epaulets and fogging, and stiff wide-brimmed hats. At a distance of over two meters away it were impossible to ascertain that Sevein and myself were the sword-carrying ruffians keeping their hands on their sword hilts.



I thought Belanna made an extremely pretty serving girl or hand maiden, even in modest cloth and a straw bonnet.



As we all trudged past Chakay's household fortress, Belanna began to let loose the dozens of my mice hiding in her straw basket. They climbed her uncomplaining arm within it's sleeve, following the trellis of her rough cloth dress to the ground.



As her own unexpected contribution to our joint effort, a good dozen small green frogs jumped to the ground in her wake. She secreted them about her beautiful person, somewhere, and I failed to ask where. Some things were best never known.



Trelayne, magically wearing a vagueness of face, leaned over and banged the hilt of his silver word upon the blackened brass of Chakay's gate. A head popped out, irritated. Now posing as a confused merchant, Trelayne obtained directions (and the two guards attention) whilst our hosts of small spies sneaked inside past their worn boots.



Chakay's gate gargoyles were limestone male lions. The coarse and obviously none too bright serving girl engaged the nearest one in a dialogue about whether what it sported were enough to please a maiden in a way maidens should be pleased. It rose up, so that she might get a better view, and snarled angrily at her when she said her master's boy had more to work with.



We laughed in low masculine voices at the words exchanged. The master reminded the girl that once a gargoyle had you in its grasp it need never let go. He thus silenced her and finished thanking the guard for his help.



Every one of our spies now hid inside the compound, even five water Golems. The Golems had firm instructions to be both cautious and to stay outdoors. The inner precincts were too prone to be patrolled by Seventh Level Demons and Wizards far past their apprenticeships.



At the same time four of my previous day's furry rodent spies hurried out past the guards and up my trousers. In seconds they were all sitting snug in a coat pocket. We four moved on, and once around a corner Belanna let an empty wine skin lay down on the ground near the wall while she paused in fussing with her clothes and items in her basket. When she picked the wine skin up again, it was heavy with the water Golem spies which had flowed under a flaw, a crack, in the walls.



We excited no interest as we trudged off of New Island and proceeded to Trelayne's rented manse. We must needs review what we needs must concerning the insides of Chakay's home.



We were under a time constraint, unfortunately. Trelayne had already previously cut short his visit to Tar-Trigon city, and publicly so. If we were to do this in concert, we must needs do it within the constraints of tomorrow night, or do it without Trelayne. We felt Trelayne's aid was essential. It was far less suspicious if he stayed to announced schedule.



Belanna left us as soon as we were back in the city proper. She had to hurry now in order to perform her regular worship in her temple. Perhaps the service would be a little late, and would not begin until after the Noon hour. Yet she began to run as she left us, needing to play her essential part in her own temple. Messages from her this morning had apprised Monch and the others she might be late, but she must eventually still come to do her sensual dance of worship. We exchanged no kisses or sweet words, but the High Priestess touched a hand to each one of ours before leaving. It was all Sevein and I might ever receive in endearments from the lovely devotee of Gogorol, the Frog God, the God of needful rains.



Belanna also touched the invisible head of my ghost, and I thought to hear an echo of sound never heard from the soul of my new companion, the child ghost.



Sevein looked after her speeding form, a sigh escaping her lips. Trelayne was amused, but held his peace. Neither of us ever asked Trelayne if he had used his magic to spy on our varied love-makings, but he knew in any case how we three had spent the night in his large and comfortable bed with the now-oily bed sheets. Logic or a good guess could have told him as well as peeping.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - -



We'd actually seen Chakay himself this day's morning. We'd come by to pick up our spies, and to further learn what we could of the insides of the residence of the Sun God's High Priest. In truth one living man still stood between Chakay and the actual title of High Priest, but the present High Priest was an aged person, senile, and frail. The control of the grand Temple was in Chakay's hands and had been for years.



Physically Chakay was obviously a strong man, black hair cut short, tattooing on his face, determination written on his face and in his manner. He'd left with three body servants who doubled as body guards, all three atop golden hued horses. Horses voided in the streets as they wished, but as all horses belonged to City Officers or the rich, no one in the Sathridin objected. Chakay rode to take charge of the mighty Great Temple of The Day. The Sun God supposedly resided in the Truth's Tower of the Temple during the hours of darkness, and rode the sky during the day.



It was a large Temple, gleaming with gold gilt in many cornices and on much stone fretwork both within and without. It was a visible symbol of its power and wealth within the city of Tar-Trigon.



Just as the ashes of the beams of Sam Wildman's Inn were a symbol of his revenge and spite.



We went on our way, gathering our spies of verminous mice and depleted water Golems as we went. Belanna gathered her own froggish spies of green down at the downstream tail of New Island. We had discovered a line of sewers connected Chakay's residence directly to the river, as well as a dozen other wealthy strongholds built atop the older and smaller island. The city Council never bothered this violation of local law. As to our intended burglary, thus far the prospects were daunting.



As was customary in Tar-Trigon, Chakay's palatial residence was a large circle of interconnected buildings. In this case the heart of it was a courtyard fed by a natural spring. It was the only spring on the entire island, though wells sufficed for all the other compounds. Here gracious and bountiful fruit trees shaded the atrium; pear, apple, peach and cherry. Chakay was accustomed to performing many of his managerial and religious duties in its gracious confines. He would sit in his arboretum or pergola, confer with his underlings, and otherwise conduct his affairs like the High Nobleman he thought of himself as.



If the weather was clement he would eat a meal or two under some tree's green boughs. During other climes, he had a small windowed nook which caught the morning sun. His manse as well held a large banquet chamber for his spates of entertaining. He also had a small library, next door to the private office where he kept his vaults. He even had an observatory on the roof to allow him to keep track of the heavens. More importantly my mice had seen him carefully counting his golden wealth inside the office. They had also seen him putting the gold away in one of four locked floor vaults.



To help protect his premises, Chakay had all the customary devices. There were wardings and spells. There were Imps on the walls, guard dogs, human guards, a trio of unhappy Demons, and a tame Wizard who inspected the magical warning webs constantly. The Wizard in this case was a fully adept adult working under a contract for some years, with what one presumes were generous terms.



Fifty staff otherwise cared for Chakay, ranging from cooks and dish cleaners, a laundress, a tailor, a baker, and secretaries. He also had serving girls who warmed his bed at night or dressed him impeccably in the morning. He had his own barber, a stable with eight horses in it, and four gardeners who made his flowers and fruit trees attractive and productive. In short he was the very beau ideal of the wealthy and powerful man in modern Tar-Trigon. Rich, ostentatious, and protected to a greater degree than anyone else on New Island. Nothing novel, just a great deal of it.



And with Trelayne's possibly erratic help, we band of conspirators were sworn to lay this vaunting ego low.



- - - - - - - - - - - - -



Once the moon was a thin crescent in the barely black darkling sky, we three rose out of the boulders at the river's edge. This night Belanna was necessarily our guide. We were on the New Island again, nearing our goal on the southern tail. Belanna was in a dark robe over white pilgrim's dress, and both Sevein and I wore dark clothes novel to our view and use.



Cowls covered our heads, and light black cloth swathed our bodies. We were masked by our cowls, excepting our eyes. Trelayne had made our suits for us, using his magical gifts to first find, then size and create something called a Ninja suit. He swore the words were oaths of power. However he had to create the suits three times before they fit us well. Which to my mind was typical everyday Wizardry. Marvelous ideas often flawed in the actual making.



The patterns were simple, and I mentally thought they might be a useful design in some future theft. In addition, tonight we carried a fair-sized bundle each, with longish cords tied to them.



It was dark, and my little ghost was a comfort now. She felt real to me, her presence almost touched by my wandering fingers. We could hear the quiet shuffle of her bare feet on the blocks and pave, the almost-breath of a child seeking to be both unseen and unheard.



Belanna had talked with her last night, and discovered that her name was Emilia, and she was nine years old. She knew she was dead, she could recall clearly the pains of dying. But she would now always remain nine years old, with her lost life ever ahead of her. I thought Emilia an odd name, but one had to allow for the changing customs of a thousand years.



In the light of the razor-thin moon, I could see her more clearly. Her hair hung loose, excepting a long braid on her left side, and ribbons woven into the braid. She had said her rank was indicated by the number and color of her ribbons in her maiden's braid. They were red and white, five of each.



She guided me through the darkness, her tugs a sure guide of falls and obstacles avoided.



As we walked on, the obstacles increased about us. There were boulders now, and the pave had broken up into brush and grass, and a well-traveled path between the birch trees.



Sevein touched my arm, whispering that she felt this small wood was somehow not a customary place for man. Belanna said we need not whisper. We were far from suspicious humans here.



This was a thicket of Birch not trod by mortals.



Sevein's eyes were large in the moonlight, for the both of us knew full well the south end of New Island. If our memories served us well, this ground we walked upon was the fastness of a monopolist of Salt. Beyond it was another rich merchant who had become the Imperial Assizes Judge for the City and the District. We should now see high walls, and guards, and solid buildings about us. Instead the wild land trended downhill, the ground was sometimes mushy and wet, and white Birch crowded us about.



There was no Birch grove at the end of New Island, nor had been for at least a millennia.



We had done nothing but walk along a dark street, black pitch pave beneath our feet, and now we were far from Tar-Trigon. Looking back, I saw no torches or buildings. Nothing but stones and meadow and trees thickly wove.



I stumbled again as Emilia abruptly stopped. She jerked my coat for attention. We had a small figure, perhaps a child, standing across our path.



I put out a hand to caress Emilia's head of unruly hair, but she did not seem fearful of the gray little man or elfin being who moved closer (but slightly off the path). It, he, she wore a cape of gray, and the skin did not gleam as others skin did.



"Steel and iron are not welcome here," a child's thin reedy voice said. "Go back the way you came and we will give you forgetfulness and let you pass from us."



"We came to see the Shrine."



"You are not of the Folk and do not belong here. Go," it again insisted. "You will not want to pay the toll we will demand if you wish to go further."



"We have the blessing of a God for our passage," Belanna said.



"Fiddlesticks," Emilia replied as well. "We do nothing but pass through."



As clear as a bell I heard her voice.



"We mean no harm," Sevein added. "We follow the laws of the Forest and the Glen and the Open Spaces. We kill that which we need to kill, and leave all else go by. We burn what is fallen and do not break branches off living things."



"Fiddlesticks is it? Fiddlesticks yourself," the small being said. "You stink of iron, you have the blood of your fellow men upon your hands, and you seek free passage through my family lands."



"I am a High Priestess in my own God's House. You have no right to deny me if I choose to visit the Holy Place of another God. For that matter, what is your toll?" Belanna asked.



"You may pass through freely, milady. But these others? They must pay a toll. Something only one of you may pay," it chuckled.



"Then let me pay it," Emilia solemnly returned.



"You are already dead," it sneered.



"Then you must be still, Mister Landowner, for you must make me and no other pay your toll once it is offered you."



A pause whilst the creature came closer. It was nude, and what had seemed a cape was revealed to be large gauzy butterfly's wings which had previously enwrapped him. Her, I amended. Beings at first glance to be large fireflies whirled about us now, giving us light. They were winged, but not fireflies.



The small thin creature had breasts almost non-existent, small needle canines, a flurry of down on her mound. She was no child even for one of Faerie. Three dozen silent buzzing lights traveled about us now, lending a golden twilight for our tableaux.



An elfin smile split her face for a second and a small thin silver knife flashed out faster than thought. It pierced the breast of Emilia, and withdrew, no blood upon its blade. It were a mortal blow, but nought seemed to occur.



Then the Faerie laughed in a shrill tone, circling in a manic dance for perhaps a minute. "You have played me out well, strangers, well indeed, and that most sly and most cunning. You may now all pass with no further hindrance." Then she calmed and faced Belanna.



"You shall see the path, it will be clearly marked," she warned. "Do not stray from it until you reach the Shrine. Do not flash naked iron within my precincts, do not kill so much as a titmouse, and do not light a fire or break a single tree's branch for a torch." She waved at the reappearing fireflies.



"These sworn of mine will show your feet the way," she said.



With that she was gone, with not even a hint that she was about to leave us.



"Kater Reen?" a voice came from before me, below my chest.



I was Red Mouser, and have been for more years than I wish to count. Few, excepting Sevein, even knew I had a name other than Red Mouser. I looked down in astonishment at the voice that knew my given name.



Emilia had both hands on my coat, looking closely up at me. "I'm tired," she whined as any weary child might. "Could you please carry me?"



I quickly bent and scooped up this … this child into my arms, cradling her against my chest. She adjusted herself, kneading my breast, and leaning her head against it as a pillow. The nearness of her let me smell the dirt and sweat that any child carried with it, her hair also holding a faint tinge of ancient scent, a perfume perhaps. A thousand-year-old perfume.



I kissed the top of her wild hair, her weight solid in my arm, her body touching mine. A dead girl's body. I could faintly feel her small chest move as she breathed.



"Belanna," I suddenly asked, "Is she dying? Tell me she is well, don't tell me she is dying again, please don't." Suddenly I was afraid she was going to die again, now, and be gone from me.



"She sleeps," Belanna said. "Nothing more. You may hold her if you wish. It is only a few more steps until we are at the entrance to the tunnel of the Shrine. Emilia is weary. A Fairie's silver knife is much more then sharp metal, and even the dead suffer from the blade." I ran a hand through the slightly tangled hair of the peaceful apparition.



"Do not worry yourself. She but sleeps. A ghost may sleep when in a sacred grove," Belanna crooned. "It is allowed."



Suddenly the path brought us to the river's edge. A few lines of dark stone meandered down into the swirling water, accompanied by soft ground and some brush. Across the river was darkness, all trace of Tar-Trigon gone, vanished. Emilia felt very heavy in my arms as I tried to catch my troubled breath.



Where we were was on New Island before humankind has brought its many barges carrying stone. Before mankind built upon the small spine of the old low-lying stone massif in the middle of the river. Perhaps before mankind ever were. Or had come to Eden if the old legends were right, and this were not mankind's original home.



Not a light was to be seen, excepting the fairy fireflies lighting our way. We were in a wilderness.



Yet before us bulked on the one hand a small but ancient black stone edifice, and on the other, an incredibly large man sitting in a simple wooden boat graced with a set of paddles.



"Welcome to the Han Begg," he murmured. He was clothed in a large fur coat, I could see now. In summer someone wore such a large garment? I thought him a fool or possessed. Perhaps both necessary attributes if your task was to watch the entrance to the Shrine of the Sidhe.



Sevein clasped my arm hard, and said to me; "It is a bear."



A bear that paddles a wooden boat about a river, and a ghost that is having a nap in my arms. Tonight Belanna is leading us far afield indeed. I hoped there was a way back. Then I remembered that there indeed was one way. It twisted and turned, but it was enough so that even my large slender lover could negotiate the way. I steeled myself again for the tasks ahead, hoping that this would not be the time I failed.



Sevein hove into view in front of me, almost positioning herself to protect me at the cost of her own body if necessary. I knew her thoughts. We'd seen a bear once take eleven spears, a dozen arrows, a host of sword cuts, and its entails trailing behind it and tangling its feet as it continued to move. It took a Halberd splitting it's skull before it ceased. Most folk knew Bears from the pathetic and crippled remnants in the Bear Pits, or a circus. People who took bears lightly might pay highly for their stupidity and arrogance.



A chill shivered through me, stirring Emilia awake. Perhaps there was a premonition abroad in the night air. It involved Sevein and me, and I knew not its focus. For Sevein if for nothing else I shall succeed tonight. I cannot let her down and allow myself to live thereafter.



For the first time I doubted. Perhaps we should let this Chakay be, abandon our theft.



The bear was out of the boat, waddling a few steps closer.



Its claws were down as it snuffled Emilia, Belanna, and us both. It raised a hand, a paw, to the dead child. The girl in turn allowed the touch of razored claw to cheek and did not flinch.



"I give you a warning, daughter of Reen," it spoke to me in a mellow man's voice. Not at all like a growl.



"Ghosts are beings triumphantly repleat with pain, and anger, and lost beyond easy discovery. None of them rest easy. If they did, they would not be ghosts, would they?" With its paws to its sides it hulked more mysterious, but perhaps less threatening.



"You already give this one a sense of peace and place. If this lost one finds a home in your arms, I must give you warning.



"Allow her peace and she will likely leave, must leave to go on."



My arms tightened about the unearthly little girl, an automatic attempt at guarding and warding, comforting and reassuring. Was I already coming to love this lost one? I could not. I must not. I could not let go. Yet I could not let go.



"You knew my far distant cousin," it suddenly said. A touch of longing and much sorrow was somehow in its soft man's words. "You slew him, or will, perhaps, if the words are right."



I recalled well that raging terror thrown somehow into our quiet camp at night. There were screams, a roaring, blood thick in the air, a campfire thrown wide into flaming embers. It was amongst us suddenly, and two of my band, fellow mercenaries, were suddenly dying in great terror and pain.



Yet we all attacked. Immediately. There was no scattering, no pleas, no confusion, only terror and desperation. We had swarmed at it, attack our only need. To the merchants and slavers and city dwellers, and aye, to the soldiers of the Empress, we were wolves.



They called us The Band of Wolves, and wolves we were.



On this night the pack drove forward, their sharp canines of steel flashing, our multiple human throats yelling war cries in twenty languages. I was one of them, and I felt my sword hack flesh from the side and legs of the giant furred beast. None of us turned away, but hurried to the assault. Other Free Company pressed me close, driven to thrust and do havoc to the maddened bear.



Sevein bit deep into a shoulder with a halberd, and her bearded brother armsman took the halberd when a thrown body felled her. He gave the blow that let loose the bear's soul into the frantic night, giving it peace at last.



Suddenly the massive arms of this present night's bear were raised up, and a claw rested on each our shoulders. I could feel the warm fetid breath of the beast, and the weight of his arm bore hard on me.



"His name will be Black Ear and he will die a glorious death. A great and violent death worthy of a great warrior. He will be remembered in his clan.



"In honor of the heroic ending you helped give this kin of mine, I shall give to each of you a piece of luck to take you safely through this troubled night."



With that he was almost without movement suddenly and already gone. We immediately saw him climbing clumsily back into his inadequate little cockleshell boat.



He and his boat faded into nothingness. We all knew it was now time to go.



Belanna stood by a moss-covered stone-vaulted tunnel entrance. An opening went into the hillside, a tunnel. Emilia wriggled out of my arms and scampered into the darkness within. Belanna whispered inside, hurrying behind the ghost. Then I followed, and then Sevein. For needs must, Belanna must go to the Shrine. We were not to profane the ancient spring and the Shrine built about it. Other tasks awaited me and my perhaps too large lover.



The close walls of the tunnel were well built, but old. Very old, even in this era. They gleamed with wetness to the hand, and water ran underfoot, and the walls and roof were close to my head, forcing Sevein to repeatedly hunker down as she traveled.



Underneath New Island the ancient tunnel had been replaced with large pipes where necessary, some use of the old tunnel, and many branches of underground terra-cotta pipes to residences now gone or still extant.



None of them were large enough to admit even myself passage.



But in the past we could traverse the distance.



In the past.



That was our plan, or at least the first part of it.



Belanna's many frogs had discovered this passageway underneath New Island. It once led to the spring. We did not ask how Belanna knew of the ancient tunnel and the Shrine of the Sidhe.



As mankind had rode roughshod over the remains of another race, the spring became a pretty thing in the courtyard of a rich man. The tunnel of pilgrimage became a channel for waste from mankind.



Chakay had a series of private inside jakes, inside privies. They led downward to a grotesque combination of tunnel and piping. Eventually they twisted their way down to the edge of the river, the Shrine and the grove of the Sidhe long gone and forgotten. Through many pipes fresh water from the spring was used to many purposes for the household of Chakay, one of them to fill an enclosed rooftop water tank. The pool of water fed baths and basins, pots and cups, and flushed clean the jakes of a rich man.



It was far from being a clean avenue of entry, but it was a way inside which by-passed all the multitudes of traps and warnings.



We would enter a wide place in the tunnel, in the past.



In the present we would be in a chamber slick with offal and waste. The way downstream would be blocked, the way to the spring blocked off. The frogs and a pair of mice had confirmed all this.



A chamber existed beneath Chakay's mansion. A large chamber of such size that Sevein could stand upright in it. We could both stand upright in it. An additional large cavity existed under the seats of the jakes themselves, in which the waste and water collected.



A slave could be let down to collect anything fallen in. Periodically said slave would also sluice the chamber clean.



Tonight's filth might be washed off.



We could buy many hot baths with gold.



We steeled ourselves to ignore the filth.



When I was young, I had been given a task unwanted, at Aschelion.



The Bards sang of it as a great battle, and it was that, I suppose. I was part of a Free Company contracted to the Duke of Ronetela, and we held for four charges by the wild steppe horsemen on their vicious tiny biting horses.



For our reward we were given leave to scavenge the field. Bring in allied wounded, finish off wounded barbarians, and incidentally enrich ourselves off the bodies of the fallen. I quailed at the thought of murdering wounded and possibly innocent men, and the Company Condatoti was merciful, and gave me over to the recovery of the Emperor's multitudes of wounded.



After Aschelion I've never wavered in my resolve to ignore filth in order to get the job done.



Sevein's similar experience was also at Aschelion, only she had fought for the Usurper's side.



We waited for long minutes and spoke no word to Belanna as she came back from the Shrine. With her passage outwards, our tie to the past must fade, stranding us in the present of New Island. Before long the feel of the air itself, and the echoes of our breaths, told us we no longer existed in an ancient tunnel.



The smells increased a hundredfold, and we knew there was no way out except upwards and through the house of our enemy.



We were experienced at climbing stone faces, and new pitons, pick axes and driving hooks soon littered our belts. Sevein raised me up and I drove in the first steel points into the joins in the filthy smelling walls of our way upwards.



I tapped and tested each piton in its lodging, looping ropes through its eyes before putting my weight on it. Then I rode the rope up that little bit and drove in another piton with a new glazed leather hammer.



Eventually the way sloped, and I gratefully used only my hand pick to propel me further. Eventually I was surprised when the disgusting walls of my claustrophobic prison had light in it.



I had reached our goal. Behind me I heard Sevein negotiating the confines of our obscene birthing channel. It was a close fit for her, and I again loved her for her trust in me if nothing else.



The entire row of seats lifted up on hinges, and we foul thieves exited onto the floor of Chakay's simple but comfortable private privy. We brought up the bags which had been tied to our waists.



We began removing our Ninja suits, unwrapping and letting loose claws, hooks and ties. The filthy garments went into two bags, allowing us to negotiate the rooms of Chakay's manse without foul odors loudly proclaiming our presence.



Emilia raised a whisper and we took it for a warning. Both Sevein and I froze in place.



"Chakay," a woman's voice whispered, "What do you do?"



"Just a moment," he answered softly. "I need to relieve myself."



- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



She said something indistinct, and a feeling of a glamour falling off came over me. Even before Chakay said his words of reply I knew I had just been blessed with a bit of bear-given luck.



Chakay padded after the woman, and as he did so, I had a vision of the man having a leisured late-night snack with the wench.



Hopefully it will develop into a feast taking many hours.



We stashed our bagged suits on a shelf, and arrowed to our first target. A hiding place lay inside the wall and underneath Chakay's bed. We had thought not to be able to touch this place, but with Chakay otherwise occupied Sevein and I ran to the spot, and had the box out and the contents going immediately inside one of our bags. Back went the box and back went the false board.



Now to Chakay's offices and the four vaults within.



As we moved about, Sevein powdered the corridor carpet with our mixture of laudanum, red pepper and powdered calves's blood. If the innermost guard dogs were brought to the upper floor in an unexpected search pattern, they should take one deep breath of our mixture and be afterwards unable to smell or track.



A pair of Imps guarded the door and the windows of his office, but they were limited beings. The one assigned the windows let nothing INSIDE, and the door Imp let nothing OUT without the proper code.



The child in Chakay had made the phrase "Power Is Good" and a left hand twisting motion the code. One of my mice had watched the process twice during the course of a morning, and another mouse again that night. In a small bit of cleverness the key for the one vault was hidden underneath the next vault, around the room.



For the last step in opening the steel doors, we needed a water Golem. One had followed us up the sewer, and another was already hid beforehand for us in the private latrine. In this case both water Golems had safely awaited us. Their instructions were to hide and reach their needed place underneath the privy lid. Now one entered the insides of the small vault door. Seven worked the few tumblers, receiving precise instructions from the water Golem.



Sevein softly commented that the tumblers were worn and old, and one had only to match a number close to the one desired to open the hinged metal door. Chakay saved a little brass by using old equipment, and we left him to rue his carelessness. In actuality a fresh tight tumbling system would also have yielded its secrets to Sevein and her water Golems, but he wouldn't know that.



I had in the meantime carefully placed a few golden items into a bag, including tiny exquisite statuettes. There were pillow cases in a corridor drawer, and for these items we were careful to safely wrap and pack the eight of them. A pair of matching Mountain Tribe golden medicine masks went in, a trio of lovely daggers with jeweled scabbards, and antique coins and medals. Those last we attempted to pack safely as well.



Next a deeply etched golden goblet, a golden vase holding a Rose made of jewels, a few necklaces, and some ancient messy gold man's chain of office. My footsteps were purposeful, knowing already the location of items we wished to pilfer.



Meanwhile, Sevein began to empty bags of coins out of the safe boxes and haul them back to the jakes. Each time she had to speak the words and make the hand motion, but it kept the doorway Imp quiet and content.



Packing the more exquisite treasures took some time, but eventually we had two bags filled with delights and treasures. It was truly wondrous what a devotion to a religious life might present a believer with in the way of material rewards.



With our most valuable loot packed away, I bent to assist Sevein in moving and emptying bags of coins. Each time saying a stupid phrase to the door Imp and making a motion with my left hand. It became tremendously boring by the seventh time I had to perform that little task.



We could not easily tell, but almost all were gold or silver. A rich man does not keep locked away bags of brass farthings.



We had in any case no need or desire to separate the coins.



Chakay came back suddenly, and without prior warning. He and his woman were barefoot, and they might have caught us in our business, but Emilia came to me in some excitement. Sevein was just crossing the corridor when I was at her back. A hand on her backside moved her forward without pause, and alerted her to the danger. She peeled against the wall, holding four bags to her without a single clink of coin. I stood on the other side of the doorway, a sword hilt reversed in my hand to use as a cudgel if anyone came inside.



As stated before, killing Chakay was not part of our plans.



The two lovers went on, almost silent. I think they were engaged in love games. But we did not peek out to see.



After some five minutes of silence I put my head out into the corridor to check. All clear. I might have asked Emilia whether Chakay had gone on, but speaking itself, however softly, was a noise unwanted at this time. Besides which, it was not a good practice to rely on giving directions or orders to ghosts. Disaster lay down that road.



We soft-footed went back to our work, leaving the imperious Chakay to his feast of flesh.



In not too long a time we were as finished as we might be. It was time to leave. We could never negotiate the narrow sewers of New Island to freedom now. The passage through the Shrine's tunnel lay centuries in the past, and was of no use to us now. That being so, and accepting Blanna's statement that we could never be allowed a second passage through the Pilgrim's Way to the Sidhe Goddess, we must needs go out the front.



We had a very great advantage over the defensive systems, however. They necessarily faced outwards. They were designed to ensnare, labor, and savage those breaking INTO the fortress of Chakay's home.



We were now going to break OUT.



Regardless of worry and strain, we patiently walked down this grand stairway and into the entrance foyer. Then we waited.



The first sign of the fulfillment of the next phase of my plan (Sevein called it too complicated by far, citing the need for simplicity) was a far distant tinkling sound. It came again and again, continuing in fits and starts.



Eventually the windows began to fitfully brighten, as if a bright but stormy morning was upon us. The glow increased and both human and animal cries shrilled through the night.



In a quiet moment, we heard more tinkling, and suddenly a stream of fire spat down the throat of a fireplace within our view.



A thread of burning fluid crept out the stone confine of the fireplace, but we could see it would burn itself out on the hardwood floor. What was happening on the roofs over our head, though, was another matter.



Eventually a man ran through the main door, speeding to the second floor to alert Chakay. He not for a second noticed either of us. Using the distraction, we exited in his wake.



We walked out onto chaos.



Even as we watched another salvo of bottles flew overhead to break into shards upon the red tiled roofs of Chakay's buildings. One fell short, and spattered the doorway behind us. We hurried across the space between Main House and the stables, just another pair of figures on the run while the entire residential complex caught fire. We carried bags, but the few frantic people about did not really notice us at that point yet. Afterwards they might remember the two strangers fleeing for the walls and darkness and safety. Afterwards would be too late.



Overhead flew more bottles, bottles largely impervious to magical warding.



They were being launched from points outside the immediate walls of Chakay's fortress. They were physical, rather than magical. Though launched initially by Trelayne's magic, once in the air they followed simple physical constraints.



High powered and simple wardings did wonderfully in protecting something the size of a person. However, the bottles were flying from all points of the compass, and the entire holding needed protection. The protecting Wizard was far too busy fighting fires, stopping bottles and scurrying about all the walls in an attempt to stop the onslaught of fiery glass.



Trelayne had magically constructed hundreds of fine glass bottles, filled with a mixture of grease, thin volatile rock oil and white phosphorous bits.



Trelayne had magically deposited these feisty concoctions along the shoreline of New Island, giving them a witchy glamour so that they were not seen. Then he had magically carried the hordes of dangerous glass vessels to points about Chakay's mansion.



Giving us time to accomplish our work inside.



Now he had adjudged our time to be up, and had launched his part of the assault upon High and Mighty Chakay.



Somewhere in the night he floated in some undetected and invisible observation point, directing the flight of his bottles of fire. It would be obvious tomorrow what Trelayne had done. But there was no way he could be called to account for the fiery assault. His specialty was Fire Salamanders. With his fey beasties of harm he could have leveled every structure on new Island, charms and Wizards or no.



The Wizard who attacked Chakay's Fortress tonight might be any one of a hundred Wizards, a thousand. Gifted enough to perform Wizardly feats, but not gifted enough to point an accusing finger at any single Wizard beyond a certain high level.



Therefore, it appeared a more prosaic and obviously limited Wizard had performed these more mundane tasks. Not the mighty Squire Trelayne of Gothos, distinguished visitor to the confines of the Great City of Tar-Trigon. A lesser sort had made the bottles, filled them, and threw them by the hundreds at the buildings of the enclosure of Chakay on New Island. Someone not so chimerically skilled as the mighty Wizard Trelayne, a man feared both near and far.



Nonetheless the bottles would be effective enough to hopefully cause major harm to Chakay's pride and buildings both. As well as remind him that arson could strike at his doorstep as well as some plebe Inn owners. He too was vulnerable. That reminder should prevent Chakay from ever again setting fire to the rebuilding VOYAGER Inn and the Brewery beside it.



Each bottle was guided in its trajectory by the Squire of Gothos, and each trajectory was upon a roof or combustible building side. Not at people, or even animals. We meant no hard to his many servants, but they would have to take their chances this night.



As each bottle shattered, the grease would stick and the swift-flowing clear rock oil would pour down the tiles and, inevitably, some down into the joists and beams of the roofs underneath the tiles. Each bottle would also burst into flame as it broke.



White phosphorous needed no witchery or demonforce to ignite it. It needed nothing but exposure to air.



As we ran across the compound to the stable, and thence to the wall beyond, we were increasingly able to see as if it were day. Most bottles had already set the roofs ablaze of every building in the compound, even the guard shacks. Many bottles were mis-aimed, and indeed we saw a trio burst against the branches of one of the peach trees. The tree was horribly beautiful as its gracious branches were suddenly firebrands.



We still had the two to four patrolling Demons to contend with.



Their circuit was supposed to be along the inside walls, and we had stopped before exiting to strip the hiding paper off our neck circlets of wire and beads, our single charmed wards.



Once exposed to air, the small jewels became active, and each magicked item glowed in the unseen underworld light. Humans could not see the jewels glow. Demons were repelled by the light. They were a giant bonfire which the Demons had to avoid. They could not look upon us, or even come within half a league of distance. We wore them about our necks, and we knew their potency would last but a few minutes. Which we hoped would be quite long enough.



Most protections were compromises. Specific protection against a particular type of Demon. General protections against all magic, but not very strong because of the dispersal of effect. Protection for a period of time against all evils. Weak, but stronger than the long lasting wardings. Compromises.



The charms we exposed to air drove all Demons and Imps from Chakay's holding, and those from a half of the holdings on all of New Island. The affected demons and Imps afterwards would be dazed, recovering only in a period of time. The protection would flare brightly, but for only a few moments.



Time enough for us to be away.



We still raced breakneck for the wall, however. Sooner out and over, the sooner safe.



Then the two guards found us.



I turned to see motion out of my right rear, behind Sevein, running after us. I knew they were armed human guards, they could be nothing else with our charms flaring.



Operating in the night as much as they do, most house-karls did not fancy the use of a bow and arrows, even the more mundane crossbow and quarrel. How could they be sure of even being able to aim in the general direction of some foe or burglar?

This one time was the exception.

I saw the quarrel hit my darling in the throat, and in the instant knew she was dead. The body might linger a moment or two, but she was dead.

A sudden flash and she was in the midst of a long stride.

Flash. Sevein began to falter and I saw the blood splatter as the bolt bit through her throat.

Another flash and she was untouched.

Flash. Her mouth opened, her head went forward and down, her arm raised in her death throes.

Flash. Sevein's eyes were aware of something wrong, but did not know what.

Flash. I knew Sevein was dead.

Flash. She was alive.

Flash. She was dead.

In that instant I felt the berserker begin to take hold in me.

In the same instant as the next flash I felt the passage of the quarrel in front of my turning head. A finger''s breath, maybe three, no more, separated it and my head.

I had been given back the life of my Sevein, my life, my core, my woman.

Flash. Nothing. There no longer existed a world in which Sevein took a Crossbow bolt in the neck and died. There existed only this one. The one where a bear gave Sevein another chance.

Sevein ran on untouched, watching me continue my turning motion. I passed her, racing with sword drawn, my knife in my other hand. The two guards faltered to meet my attack, bracing themselves for the sudden and unexpected impact.

I had been given life, as had Sevein. But we were still in danger, desperate danger. We could still die in this flame-lit chaos of a courtyard.

If we allowed these two to be at our backs as we attempted to negotiate the wall, we were both dead. Again.

The Crossbowman abandoned his clumsy weapon, drawing a two handed sword from out his back scabbard. The other drew his scimitar back for a killing lunge.

Sevein's axe sped faster than my feet, almost driving through the chest of the Crossbowman as it drove him off his feet and into Lord Death's hands.



I ran into the slash from the scimitar, my sword stopping in mid air as it took the blow on its own hard steel edge. Cross handed, I struck him with my body, driving the point of my knife into his body. I held on, drawing it upwards, feeling the warmth of his blood, giving him a killing wound. He kept hold of his scimitar and I raised the knife back and drove it into him twice more.



I did not wait on his death, but sped back for our abandoned bag of loot. Sevein had abandoned her throwing axe, not caring if the guard suffered or had already perished.



We fought for our lives and dared not spend a second more than was needful in this compound.



She already had thrown her collapsible grapnel over the wall, letting it snag on the glass-sharded edge. She was up, and placing her bag of loot down to stand, ready to give me a hand. I threw her my heavy bag two-handed and she merely batted it over the edge. I swarmed up her rope and immediately set my own grapnel on the edge, the rope trailing onto the other side.



Overhead bottles still flew to ignite flames and chaos within the Chakay's residential fortress.



Then I was down, Sevein barely begun her slide down. She loosened her bag from the shards, and pitched it into the blackness.



Within minute of bursting out of Chakay's main building, we were both racing down a lane on New Island. We found Trelayne waiting for us on his magic Flying Carpet, and we tossed the treasures of Chakay onto the back of it. The charms were thrown onto the ground, and Trelayne lifted us into the air for our escape.



Sevein was right. Too complicated by far.



But it had worked.



My heart raced as we two caught our breaths. Emilia snuggled between Sevein and me as we took warmth from each other in the aftermath of violent action.



I had seen Sevein die.



Yet she crouched beside me on the giving surface of the Flying Carpet. I knew with a shuddering chill that for the best wishes of the Guardian Bear in the Sacred Birch Grove, she would be dead. We had each exhausted our luck for the night.



Would that the night passed as hoped for and planned for.



Sevein did not know I had seen a crossbow quarrel penetrate her throat. She did not know I had seen her die and had already resolved to return and kill Chakay. The berserker had begun to take hold in me in that instant.



Emilia took my hand and squeezed it with all the warmth possible to a ghost. Sevein laid her arm about my waist. We knew the weight of our stolen bag of weight behind us, and tried not to feel possessive of it.



Sam Wildman would have what was hers well and completely rebuilt. Built better, built new. Rebuilt from the inside out, rebuilt larger, and more gracious. Able to attract a better custom.



As for us, we had - again - escaped with our lives.



A little voice spoke to me, reminding me of my age and Sevein's dependency on me. A little girl needed me, forget the fact that she was already dead. The wars did not become any easier. The winter milder. Nor the bandits kinder.



I must think on this. So long of my life had been a search for the violent end I expected. So long had I always thought the next alley or the next hill or the next argument in a tavern would be my last.



I must think on this.



As we approached the shoreline we kept low and vague in the night. No magic hiding, just speed and darkness. The plan bespoke was for us all to meet tomorrow to divide the loot. As Trelayne was leaving before noontime if at all possible, Emil would be there to purchase Trelayne's share of the stolen goods for the lesser payment the Thieves Guild gave in cases of immediate need.



Then in the days to come we two, and Belnna, would receive a greater percentage of what the loot was worth. At this very moment Tom Pare awaited our two bags, ready to swift them from view and begin the process of appraisal and disposal. These would probably be either ransomed by Chakay or sold far away from this city. As long as we lived and the money was coming, we would be comfortable and replete.



Belanna had equal shares as Sevein and I, though Trelayne had decided half was his share. One argued with Grand Wizards rarely, and usually to your sorrow.



The Magic Carpet slowed as it reached the embankment.



The figure of Trelayne magically spun around, comfortable sitting tailor fashion and clasping his knees. He was indistinct, but his words were clear. My knife was out and stabbing towards him, Sevein already braced to throw her Labrys.



"Deduced it already, have you?"



"You mean to betray us," I growled. Sevein made a whuffle of menace, her axe back behind her head.



"Alas, dear lassie, that is true," he said.



"You never meant to share our loot with us," I added. Carefully I slid my knife forward, until sparks flew and a jolt rocked me.



"I am protected now, of course," Trelayne continued. "Your weapons cannot even come near me. Please do not try, as it would be quite painful to yourselves. Simply accept your loss. Be philosophical about it." He chuckled.



"Surely you never expected to come out of a dealing with a Wizard and still have profit adhere to your fingers? I should never be able to hold my head high in any gathering of my peers if I did not live up to our reputation."



He was right. The old wisdom was that you counted your fingers after shaking hands with a Wizard. Then checked to see that both your head and your ass still adhered in their customary places.



"We stole those treasures. Some of it is ours by right."



Legalities from a Free Sword? How phenomenal!"



"Give us SOMETHING," Sevein complained.



"I gather," I said, "that your courtship of myself shall go no further? I had presumed you had a certain feeling for me. Or at least you wished to sample my feminine wares?"



"Oddly enough," he replied, "I did feel something for you. Still do. I think it's the air of reckless abandonment you've brought to your life thus far. You and your extraordinary lover.



"At least for a while, you might have been fun to know and bed. Especially the bed part. You are a woman made loving. Why you waste yourself climbing walls and cutting throats I shall never know."



"But?"



"A Wizard covets gold. You have gold. I can take your gold. Ergo, I shall take your gold. Simple, yes? As I said, be philosophical. It is in the nature of all Wizards to steal gold, and I am a very good Wizard.



"Nothing personal."



"Something for our troubles," Sevein repeated.



"Oh, very well,' he amended. A bag swam through the air until it lay before him. Wizardlight sprang up to illuminate this odd tableaux on a Magic Carpet above a river bank. Trelayne rummaged inside and brought out a thick golden barbarians neck Torque. It was a kilo of gold at the least. He tossed it at Sevein and rummaged further.



A stunning diamond and sapphire necklace came out, and he appraised it by wizardlight. "Here. Give this to Belanna, she deserves a beautiful thing."



Next he brought out a small bag and identified the contents as antique medals, commemorative pieces struck to celebrate historical events that all but a historian or two might still remember. The Medals were mostly large and gold, worth four or five times their weight, but only the five of them.



That was my paltry reward.



"Now jump," he commanded. "My patience grows thin. Begone with you both. Oh, and give my regards to Belanna."



It was only a yard to the pave, and we two managed the distance easily. I had been expecting a greater drop, but this was jarring enough.



The wizardlight vanished, we felt a rustling in the air, and knew we stood alone upon the river front embankment.



Sevein calmly stuffed her insulting return in an inside pocket and laid a sympathetic hand on my shoulder.



"We're alive," she noted. "And methinks Master Wizard Trelayne will be gone from the city in less than an hour."



"At least he did not throw us in the river, and he DID give us some little sliver of our loot. He could have dashed us from a great height, or destroyed us magically."



"Well," I sighed, "we always knew Wizards were untrustworthy. This but confirms us in our prejudice." I began walking, aware that I was dry and healthy and had a kilo of gold in my sidebag now.



"Where do we fare?" Sevein asked. Emilia held me tight.



"We are a small ways from our Inn," I said, "and once there we may send a message to Tom Pare and Master Emil that Trelayne has left us alive but nearly penniless. We shall see him and Mistress Belanna tomorrow."



"As planned?"



"As planned." Emilia took my hand and we went our way. Behind us the fires at House Chakay were still fitfully burning, but I ventured a guess that they were bringing the conflagration under control already.



The Night Watch was about, and doubtless the fire on New Island had excited their interest. First VOYAGER Inn and the brewery burned, now the estate of a mighty Lord of the City. News of our burglary would also quickly ruffle the feathers of the Sathridin and its Night Watch once they learned of it. Therefore we took some care in our way, and avoided the Watch cautiously and without too much difficulty. We took to the roofs, and let ourselves down near Emil's own untouched Inn.



A little cautious knocking and scratching, and we were shortly sitting by a still warm hearth and sharing sour beer with a few fellow guests. I undertook to leave my bloodied front facing a shadow. I regretted the loss of my good tunic and shirt. The other custom soon left for bed, and we had a delayed supper courtesy of the Innkeeper. Olive oil on good white bread and decent left-over potato meat pie.



A message was sent to Emil, and we ventured to our clean room for the night.



We had an untroubled sleep.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - -



We were nothing special, to look at us. We lounged by the river embankment, opposite the southern end of New Island, and sipped a little watered wine and garlic lamb's sausage. House-karls we looked and house-karls we were, our weaponry and men's rough clothing as advertised.



Emilia took another slice of sausage from me. Some day I might understand how ghosts may become hungry.



A slattern who had seen better days joined us, and we passed her a few pennies and some sausage watered down with our wine. We were nothing but the leavings of a great city.



"I dropped by Chakay's holding," Belanna said to us. "There is little apparent damage, but there are the high walls to contend with." She accepted a farthing from each of us and touched her brow in thanks.



"The air reeks of much fire damage, however.



"The servants appear to be undergoing extensive interrogation. Which makes it appear that the fires were set to hide a burglary." Belanna shuddered melodramatically. "No one is safe anymore."



Belanna took a healthy swig of my canteen, smacking her lips. "Your vintage strongly tastes of the rotting balls of the diseased cattle they used to trod the bad grape harvest this wine came from. How much did they pay you to drink it?" All this said with a smile for any observers.



We casually watched the two boats of the fishermen plying their trade off the southern edge of New Island. Admiring their technique. Belanna had another small swallow of the wine.



"Tom Pare makes an amazingly authentic fisherman," Sevein noted. "If he ever gets tired of being a Coppersmith he could always take to gathering in the harvest of the great Trigon River."



"That's Harry Kim," I said. "The one in the red sweater. The blind dunce who looks likely to drown before the day is over is Tom Pare.



"That too has an air of authenticity." I took another sip. It WAS terrible wine, but what else would a mercenary drink?



"Trelayne was vanished this morning from his rented lodging, but no one so far as I know is complaining. His rent was paid until the end of next week, and he left generous tips for the staff. His leaving now had been previously announced, so few are likely to connect his disappearance with the burglary of Chakay. Excepting Chakay himself. But Chakay dare not make any public connection between himself and the great necromantic Squire of Gothos."



"Trelayne got away clean, then?" Sevein asked.



"As a whistle," Belanna answered.



We watched Tom Pare catch himself with a hook again, and enjoyed the cool breeze blowing down the river.



"He'll probably eventually realize he didn't take everything from us," Belanna noted. "Not when you consider the coins. Not even half."



Bad wine, but it was pleasant once to relax and let the barest edge of getting drunk fuzz my senses. Just a bit.



"How are your frogs holding up?" I asked.



"Frogs have such a limited mind, they've all already forgotten entirely about last night. Poor creatures of Gogorol," Blanna intoned.



"How much have we recovered from the river thus far?"



"Judging from the good start we had, I would estimate over a thousand silver coins and half again that in gold. Emil said there must be sixty thousand coins yet in the pile on the sandbank. They're still filling buckets with the booty without having to search for any yet."



"Really?" Belanna cooed. "My frogs transported that many coins last night?"



"One coin per mouth of one frog," I said. "You said you had many thousands of frogs working for you last night. Sevein and I poured hundreds of bags down the waste tube to the sewer. It felt like thousands of bags."



"Tens of thousands," Sevein complained. "My arms ache like I've been fighting a sword battle for a week."



"Remarkable," Belanna said. "One frog could swallow one coin, hop downstream to the river, spit the coin in the river, and return for another coin. Remarkable."



As for us, we estimated Chakay was at this moment one of the poorest rich men in Tar-Trigon. And he had discovered he could get burned as well as any lowly plebe.



But I didn't count on Chakay become mild and lawful now. Perhaps one of those plumes of smoke over there on new Island was him burning with anger.



"With any luck Chakay will never discover how the trick was done," I said. "Only us three know the exact method. Emil's assistants only know the coins were magically transported down the sewer to the river?"



"Correct," Belanna said. "And it's going to remain a secret."



Gazing at the coin fisher's, I saw a mermaid's blond head break the river's surface. She conversed with Tom and Harry for some minutes before diving back underneath the surface.



"The Mermaids and Men will live up to their end of the arrangement?" Sevein asked.



"People have a wrong belief that they're untrustworthy," Belanna said. "Once they make a bargain they keep to it."



"Ten percent and trust them not to pilfer in the night?" Sevein pressed.



"Don't forget it's their river. They will keep their bond in this matter," Belanna finished. "I have a special tie to them through Gogorol."



I estimated that in this Belanna was correct. Besides, if they did pilfer a little in the night could we stop them? Be happy that they leave us any of the treasure at all.



As for us, we estimated Chakay was at this moment one of the poorest rich men in Tar-Trigon. And he had discovered he could get burned as well as any lowly plebe.



But I didn't count on Chakay become mild and lawful now. Perhaps one of those plumes of smoke over there on new Island was him burning with anger.



------------END

AUTHOR INDEX