‘Where in God’s name did you go boy?’ a crippled old man said. He was obviously the boys father. His white hair glistened in the ominous light of the scant torches and candles lying all over the place, trying desperately to illuminate the rooms that had been plunged into premature darkness as the sun was taken away from them. He sat in the short hallway in a chair with wheels. His legs would not work any longer. ‘I was out trying to get some work done for the business.’ Opawa replied. ‘And by how, might I ask, did you try to help the business?’ The old man’s eye’s wandered all over the place. ‘I tried to rob these three.’ he said pointing over his shoulder to his guests, his head drooping. ‘I think I need more practice at it though.’ ‘The crippled man’s face went from the pale colour of sickness to the steamy red of anger. ‘What do you think your doing?’ he shouted. ‘The Backwoods Criminal Corporation is based on stopping crime, not on creating it!’ His son stared at him with a loss for words. He attempted to say something but his pleas wouldn’t come out. ‘Please excuse my son’s stupidity.’ the aged man apologised. ‘I just told him yesterday about the business. I also told him that I’d explain to him further about the business later, but he took it upon himself - and his ghastly mates - to try help the business when they didn’t quite know what the business was about.’ He gave a cold stare to his son and his injured friends that he had just insulted. ‘No harm done Milord.’ Ice said. The man blinked. ‘What happened to your voice?’ he asked rudely. ‘I’m not to sure myself honestly.’ she said. ‘One day, I was singing with the best of them, then next, it sounded like this.’ ‘I invited these three in from the rain.’ Opawa said with down cast eyes. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’ ‘Get out of my sight boy.’ his father suddenly said. ‘Take your friends with you and prepare the guest rooms.’ The three boys moved on in shame. ‘Sorry about what happened earlier. In my day’s, a boy his age was in the military serving for his state or country.’ ‘Let me introduce ourselves.’ Ice interrupted. ‘My name’s A.J of Mlana; my big friend beside me is Granae of Oiy; and my unconscious companion is Trahal of Rabur. It is our thanks that you have allowed us to stay within the safety of your fine home.’ ‘People call me Trast.’ the crippled man introduced. ‘You’ve already met my son, and I’d introduce you to my wife if she were here.’ ‘Oh. Where is she?’ Power curiously asked. ‘She’s dead.’ Trast said without a hint of emotion. ‘I’m afraid I have never heard of those names before.’ he admitted. ‘Our names?’ Ice replied. ‘Where new around this area so I don’t really expect anyone to know of us.’ ‘No, not your names.’ Trast said with a chuckle. ‘I was talking about your titles.’ ‘Oh.’ Ice said with a silly little smirk on her face. ‘Well, we come from small remote villages. ‘Would you like any help with your unconscious friend there, A.J?’ Trast asked, pointing to the Emperor with his chin. ‘No it should be right. He’s just having a bad time. He drank a little too much.’ ‘I know exactly what you mean.’ he agreed with a hint of a smile on his wrinkled face. ‘Let’s settle up a deal before we do anything else.’ Power said, easing the Emperor to the floor with a booming thud. ‘State your price.’ ‘My price? I’m offering this to you free out of my own kind generous heart. It’s no trouble, really.’ ‘That’s real nice of you sir.’ Ice complimented with a thankful beam of smile. ‘Follow me. I’ll show you to your rooms.’ The rooms that they had been given were on the side of luxurious and were well kept. The home - made furniture showed little signs of use, and the shuttered windows were draped with a light maroon to almost impossibly blend in with the dark wooden surroundings. A single candle burned brightly on a table to one side. The Emperor shared a room with Power, a stuffed mattress placed on the floor with blankets for warmth. Ice had been given a room of her own, to her companion’s disgust and objection. Power thought it not fair at all. They had been served a nice hot meal by the day’s end in the dining room, cosily heated by a fire place at it’s side opposite the door. ‘What do you two - or three - do for a living?’ Trast asked over their meal. ‘The three of us work in a small village in the Neekkentian continent.’ Ice said with an innocent face. ‘But that’s half a world away.’ ‘It is, isn’t it.’ ‘Well, what are you doing this far away from home?’ ‘I’ll get to that in a minute.’ Ice replied. ‘As I said before, we work in a small village in the Neekkentian continent. I work as a bar tender selling drinks and the like in the local inn; Granae works as the local black - smith; and Trahal is Granae’s assistant. Our work amongst the people is well known and we each have quite a reputation.’ ‘But isn’t Trahal a little old and delicate to be working as a black - smith’s assistant?’ Trast took a sip of freshly pored wine that a servant had brought him. ‘Hard workers are hard to find nowadays. Anyway, somehow, our reputation spread like cockroaches, from the local district, to surrounding towns and cities, and then beyond. I don’t know what people see in a bar tender and black - smith to force them to travel all the way from the horizon and beyond to attain our services, but it sure attracted people from all over the continent. ‘After about six months or so, we received a letter from the Emperor of Leif. You haven’t by any chance seen his face in person, have you?’ Trast shook his head. ‘Trust me, it’s not something you’d want be looking forward to.’ She continued her untruthful account. ‘We were invited by the Emperor to his palace - if that’s what you want to call it. The letter congratulated us on our individual success and it said that the Emperor wished to experience our finesse and our skills in our handy work. We took it upon our selves to personally visit him. We thought that our services to him were going to make us richer than we were already, ten fold. But that was not the case.’ A slight quiver entered into her speech. ‘Instead, the evil man forced us to work for him as his personal slaves without much food and descent sleep.’ Tears began to form in her eyes, eventually streaming down her smooth, creamy face. Power put his arm around her to add to the affect, Ice burying her head into her hands. ‘Sorry about this.’ Power said with a mocking sympathetic tone. ‘It’s been a hard couple of years for her.’ ‘We barely got out of there alive.’ Ice went on. ‘It was just on one lucky night that we were able to slip away from the guards that were escorting us to our cells. We ran as fast as we could, climbed the battlements, then plunging about twenty to thirty feet to the sand below. I didn’t get away from a leap like that with out injuring an ankle at least. ‘Once they had realised that we had escaped them, they sent the hounds after us. Those dogs hadn’t been fed and were severely mistreated. Thus they attacked with food on their brains. Granae was just able to defend us with his daggers. This nightmare directed Trahal to the bottle. He never used to drink before, and now look what’s happened to him. He was able to get to our ale and wine that we had stolen and hidden in that hateful place of a palace. Eventually, we got to where we are now, but not with out much heart ache and pain endured along the way.’ She let out a great wail of despair adding a nice little touch to her act. ‘Are you sure that you don’t want any help for your friend?’ the seemingly gentle man offered. ‘No. I think he should be okay.’ Power said. ‘He wouldn’t want the help anyway. Once, I smashed his hand with my hammer and broke the bones into several pieces. He didn’t want any help and he never got help. He just let it heal on it’s own. He’s always been like that.’ ‘May I be excused?’ Ice asked. ‘Of coarse dear.’ Trast said with a look of concern. Ice quickly left. ‘She’s never been like this before.’ Power said with false consideration for her. ‘She never really weeps openly.’ ‘I didn’t realise how much of a monster the Emperor was.’ Trast said, obviously believing what had been told. ‘I think I’ll get my agents to keep a close watch on that man. He doesn’t deserve to live. Are they after you?’ ‘It’s hard to say.’ Power said, after a moments thought. ‘Most likely though. We’re just going to do as much as possible to keep away from him and his men.’ ‘And I’ll do as much as possible to keep him and his men away from you.’ he said with a bit of a mean streak set in his eyes. ‘I promise.’ ‘Thank - you sir.’ Power appreciated his offer. ‘I think I’ll go see what I can do about feeding our unconscious friend. He hasn’t been eating much lately. Although you can’t blame him.’ ‘Good night Granae.’ ‘And the same to you sir.’