Golden Threads - Thread Slivers Part 2

Lebuin was preparing one of the few offensive incantations he knew when the totally unexpected happened. The lady bent herself backwards, practically in half, kicking the a.s.sailant off of her back. Lebuin was so shocked all he could do was stand and stare with his mouth open like a fresh-faced school boy. Her attacker, caught off-guard, landed badly in a heap, his cloak making half of his body seem to be missing as if he was some kind of creature crawling out of the shadows themselves.

Lebuin stared dumbfounded, incantation totally forgotten, as the lady continued the back-folding motion completely over her head. She pushed off with her free hand, snapping over to end up standing in an attack posture facing the villain. Her cloak spread out behind her from the motion like some silly romantic bard's tale. The villain started to stand, the effect not unlike a demon dragging itself into reality from the shadows. The lady, unfazed, took a step towards him and then jumped sideways directly over him. As she pa.s.sed over him she caught him in a neck hold, braced by her other arm, which must have been screaming in pain from the abuse it had just endured. Her weight, motion, and hold did their job efficiently, obviously breaking the man's neck.

She stood over the body for a moment and then grabbed it by the boots and dragged it further into the alley. Lebuin was still trying to come to grips with a brutal attack being turned totally on end by this amazing woman. She efficiently stripped him of a belt, a pouch, and for some reason even his boots. However, she left the cloak. She then moved back to the alley entrance and glanced nervously around. With no one really looking, she stepped back onto the main street. She pulled her hood - now soiled with alley grime - back up to cover her dirty elegant oval face and continued walking in the direction of the docks.

Lebuin watched her go and then looked back at the body in the alleyway to confirm what he'd just seen. There was a pouch still on the body and it was smoking. Within moments the body was completely consumed in a strange green fire that didn't burn up so much as in. A minute later both fire and body were gone. All that remained was the cloak and a black charred spot on the alley floor in the shape of a body. The cloak still faded into the shadows. If it wasn't for the impossible shadow it caused it would have been totally invisible.

Lebuin glanced around; he was still alone in his safe library nook. He reached up and unlatched the window. Cautiously swinging it open so as to not make noise, he cast another incantation. He watched the street, picking a moment when no one was looking, and then reached his mind out to that cloak. With a perceptible reluctance the shadows released their cousin and the cloak flew rapidly to the open window and his waiting hand. Once he had it in his hand he let it dangle loosely outside the window as he extended his incantation for dust and dirt repellence to it. Ashes, dirt, and slime fell from it to the grounds below. Once it was clean, Lebuin pulled it inside and closed the window. In the library light it was a very fine, dark-gray silk cloak with a hood. Lebuin looked it over closely and smiled. He even liked the color. Folding the cloak into a neat packet, he started back towards his room.

I cannot believe what it must be like to live out in this city. People always out to one up you if you let them. Pick pockets, thieves, muggers, rapists, and worse prey on the innocent. Shaking his head, he replayed the memory of the lady flipping up backwards. From helpless victim to efficient killer in less time than it took for me to decide what incantation to use to help her. I am so glad I don't have to live out there. I am too much the scholar to try to deal with those kinds of challenges.

On his way back he met a well-dressed servant coming from the opposite direction. "Master Lebuin," the servant said softly, stopping him.

For a moment he panicked, like a child caught stealing biscuits. He clutched the cloak a little tighter. Get a hold of yourself, you've done nothing and this is just a Guild servant. He forced himself to relax, so his voice was only slightly more excited than normal. "Uh, yes, do you need something of me?"

"Yes, Master Lebuin, I am instructed to bring you to the council immediately."

Thoughts of the incident in the alley were pushed away suddenly as he recalled that he was waiting for news on his Journeyman trial. "Oh yes, of course, let me drop this package off in my room and I'll go to their chamber presently."

The servant nodded and fell into step with him. "I could have someone take that for you."

"We are only a moment from my door. No reason to bother anyone with this."

The servant simply followed him to his room and waited outside while he quickly put the cloak into his armoire. Then, despite the fact that he knew where to go, the servant led him through the corridors to the main stairs and down to the first floor. Instead of turning towards the council's chamber, the man indicated he should follow him towards the main audience chamber. That could only mean one thing, and Lebuin stood a little taller as he walked behind.

Lebuin smiled as they approached the great doors. Before the doors stood ten Magi in two rows, who watched as he approached. He scanned the Magi's faces, recognizing almost everyone. Oddly, Cune was not there. A gong sounded and the doors silently swung inward. The servant who had escorted him stepped forward. "I present Apprentice Lebuin of Llino." He turned and made a sweeping gesture to Lebuin.

Lebuin looked into the large hall. It could hold a full two hundred people easily, and he was shocked to see it was full of other Magi and apprentices. I really should have attended some of the other candidate trail ceremonies. Laughing at himself inside, he managed to maintain a straight back and only smiled wider. You'd think in twenty years I would have had time to go to at least one. But they always sounded boring, and I always had three books waiting in the library which were far more interesting. From what Finnba said, all I have to do is follow their lead. Looking around, unsure about what to do next, he was grateful when the servant smiled and indicated he should walk in. I know him from somewhere. He rarely noticed servants; they came and went like ghosts. However, this one was about his height, wearing a very well-fitting Guild uniform of traditional dark gray pants and a soft, light gray b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt with purple piping. On the front left and right chest corners of the s.h.i.+rt was the Guild sigil: a stylized dragon with the five waves behind it, embroidered in silver thread. The servant had light brown, almost golden eyes, and was a middle-aged Karkaian. As Lebuin recalled, his name was Ditani, and he was the personal servant for Magus Gezu. Ditani, I haven't seen him in the three years since Magus Gezu died. He cried at his funeral pyre. After that he disappeared. I wish I could talk with him, but this is not the right place or time. I'll have to find him after this is done, but right now I have more important things to pay attention to.

Taking the cue, he walked straight down the middle of the chamber. He heard the Magi who had waited outside fall in behind him. What are they all about? he wondered. Ahead, at the end of the aisle, were the five seats of the council set in a semi-circle on a raised dais. The council members stood before four of the seats. The fifth seat was always mysteriously empty. It had a large Guild sigil at the center of its backrest, and was really more of a throne. I don't think I should kneel; only foreign trade amba.s.sadors have done that. So he stood tall and looked at the council members.

"Apprentice Lebuin," Councilor Nillo said in his deep baritone. "We have reviewed the reports of all your trainers, your mentor, and the trial coordinators." The councilor's eyes locked onto his. "In all cases you have been deemed ready and worthy of the badge of Journeyman to the Guild. The council itself has reviewed and inspected your works through the Journeyman trials and found your craftsmans.h.i.+p to be of a worthy level." Breaking the eye contact, Lebuin could swear something slightly more than ritual words and a hard stare had just happened. Councilor Nillo looked around the room. "Do any Guild Magi have cause or concern with advancing Apprentice Lebuin to the rank of Journeyman?" When no one answered, Councilor Nillo gestured to his right. "Magus Cune, you were the final trial judge; do you approve the advancement of this Apprentice?"

What! The trial judge has direct approval of advancement? So that was his game. I should have guessed he wouldn't simply stand by and let me advance. A shuffling sound came from his left, and Lebuin looked over. Magus Cune stepped down from the platform where he had been standing and approached Lebuin, where he stood shoulder to shoulder with him, facing the council.

Cune smiled and gave a slight bow to the council members. He then turned and faced Lebuin directly. "Council of the Guild, I wish only to publicly acknowledge Apprentice Lebuin's achievements here, and I am pleased to report he is ready to hold the badge of Journeyman."

There go my chances for another year. Lebuin sighed in acceptance of defeat.

"Apprentice Lebuin, you are found ready, worthy, and recommended for the badge of Journeyman. You will now deposit with the Guild a token of your own creation."

Wait, what just happened? Lebuin's thoughts raced in circles. Cune didn't veto my advancement? But that means I am going to be a Journeyman. Why wouldn't he stop it? Looking at Cune, he saw the same evil smirk the Magus had worn during the test. This was another moment of extreme pleasure for Cune, at Lebuin's expense. But Lebuin couldn't figure out why.

Realizing the ceremony would be stopped until he produced a token, he pulled the s.h.i.+p out of his pocket and held it out. Two of the council members, Nillo and Crawstu, smiled at it. After a moment it floated from his hand and hovered between him and the council. Cune moved back to his position in the crowd, as all four of the council members held up their right hands and an aura of power enveloped the s.h.i.+p. It reached out then to all the a.s.sembled Magi. At last, it reached out for Lebuin. When it touched him he felt it lightly resting on his s.h.i.+elds, which he dropped, then it connected with his skin at the center of his torso. The energies filled his whole being. His vision s.h.i.+fted involuntarily to Magi sight and his little s.h.i.+p was enveloped in a sphere of energies with tendrils floating out to all the Magi present, himself, and one extra, almost invisibly thin, which went straight up. Glancing up, he noted that it went up through the ceiling and beyond his ability to perceive.

Councilor Crawstu spoke first, her voice bouncing off the walls with a resonance Lebuin had not heard before. "Do you, Lebuin, voluntarily accept to abide by, support, and if necessary enforce the Laws of Magic of the Guild of Argos Magi, from this day until the end of your days?"

"Yes, I do," Lebuin said, and he felt a vibration in the magical connection through the token.

Councilor Dicha's light tenor voice also vibrated off the walls. "Do you, Lebuin, voluntarily accept the duties, badge and rank of Journeyman to the Guild of Argos Magi?"

"Yes, I do," Lebuin said, and felt another vibration.

Councilor Mica's normally silky-soft voice practically shook Lebuin to the floor. "Do you, Lebuin, voluntarily accept the rule of Lord Argos and this, the Guild of Argos Magi, in the name of Lord Argos, from this day until the end of your days?"

"Yes, I do." This time something almost tangible was pulled from Lebuin, pa.s.sed through the connection to each Magi, and as it came back to him, a small fragment broke off and went up the tendril through the ceiling. The remainder returned to Lebuin. Lebuin was shocked to have a general feeling for where every Magi in the area was. It wasn't like being able to see them, but more a general feeling that someone was close and a sense of their direction.

Councilor Nillo's deep baritone voice practically shook the foundation of the building. "In so accepting the Laws of Magic, the rule of the Guild, and the duties and rank of Journeyman of the Guild of Argos Magi, you are so made Journeyman to the Guild of Argos Magi."

The connection swelled with power and then all of the threads snapped into the small geode s.h.i.+p like a frog's tongue. For a moment the s.h.i.+p and geode glowed with a faint white radiance. Then everything returned to normal.

The Council Magi each stepped down in turn, touching their right hand to the small s.h.i.+p still floating in front of Lebuin. They then each touched Lebuin and offered congratulations or wise-sounding advice.

Councilor Nillo was last, and he plucked the s.h.i.+p from the air. "Congratulations, boy! You finally managed to get out of this place. You'd think after more than twenty years you'd be stark raving mad. I look forward to hearing what you're planning for your Journeyman quest. You can tell me in the morning. I expect you'll be leaving tomorrow or the day after at the latest." He laughed and moved on as the procession of other Magi lined up to congratulate him.

Lebuin stood there, trying to recover from the final pull of whatever that incantation had been. It wasn't until the half Magi had congratulated him that Nillo's words sank in. I have to leave on a quest by tomorrow! What quest? What was he talking about? Lebuin wondered if he had misheard it; then he realized many of the Magi congratulating him on the badge were also wis.h.i.+ng him a safe journey.

Then Magus Cune was before him, with that smirk. He congratulated Lebuin quite loudly, then leaned in close and said softly, "To make things more interesting, I placed a rather large bet with a less-than-upstanding but influential friend of mine that you could complete the quest." Then he turned, laughing, and walked away.

As the rest of the Magi and apprentices congratulated him, he realized that he didn't know a single Journeyman Magi who had ever stayed at the Guildhouse before being made a Magus. As he realized he would have to go out into the world for something as yet unknown, Cune's parting words fully registered. Lords of Light, what just happened?

Chapter 3.

Forest for the Trees BIRDS SANG IN THE DISTANCE as Ticca moved carefully along the game trail. The traps needed to be checked every day to prevent any accidental miss causing unneeded grief. The next trap came into view; it had been tripped, yet was empty. Ticca paused, listening to the sounds of the forest for anything out of place. Her hearing identified many animals living and dying in the pattern of the woods. Sensing nothing out of place, she approached the trap cautiously.

Sc.r.a.pes on the tree bark told the story. Laughing, her bell-like voice moved off through the forest. Most animals didn't even bother to pause to listen. She moved in more confidently. A bear had helped itself to the bait meant to attract the large red squirrels she needed to harvest. Examining the marks on the tree told her it was a half-grown cub. Well now I have a saboteur. Not the first bear to learn it's a tasty treat.

Enjoying the late afternoon warmth and filtered sun, she went about moving, fixing, and resetting the trap. From her large pouch she pulled a leaf-wrapped package containing the squirrel bait made of sweet nuts mixed with seeds and sweet resin. Putting the remaining bait away she jumped the twenty feet to the forest floor. Looking around a second time for bear's signs, she fished in her pouch for the small vial of grizzly musk. Her hand didn't find it so she was forced to pull the pouch around, holding it open with one hand while peering in and looking more vigorously. Finally she found it wedged at the bottom under her notebook. I don't use this too often but is sure is handy to have. Opening the vial, she carefully applied a few dabs of the musk on the base of the traps' new tree and rubbed it into the tree bark hard using the bearskin leather cloth she carried for this purpose. That should warn off my little friend from climbing.

Running through the trapping checklist in her head, she rea.s.sured herself she had done everything needed. Of course I need to note where I put it; not that I have ever lost a trap. She smiled to herself. Well, at least none that I remember. She sat down as she pulled out the notebook. The book was a beautiful traveling journal, bound in fine leather. It was lightly engraved with her sign on the front and back. The paper was of a strong fiber plant that made it impervious to moisture and which gave the trader's ink a perfect surface to adhere to. Both the paper and ink were made by their respective families in town. She had made the leather cover and sewn the book together herself. She lovingly caressed it, remembering how making such a book had been used as training on strong st.i.tching and leather preparation by her mother. Now, of course, she made them much better - this was her tenth such journal and the best she had made yet.

Sitting and dreaming of the past is not going to finish the day's work. Opening the journal, she flipped through the pages, a combination of journal, accounting log, and map book. Identifying the page for this trap, she marked out the trap's prior position and recorded a fresh entry. She was surprised to note that this was the third time she had to move this particular trap. I have a real stubborn bear cub hereabouts, or at least one with a serious taste for sweet nuts. Reading some of her entries for the last few cycles' work, she smiled. At least this is the only one for this season, so far.

She went back to the original tree and climbed up to the old location. Pulling the sweet nut bait back out she left a small portion in the nook of the limb and tied a leaf over it to protect it from the rain. There. I hope that will stop him from hunting down the new location. With the small offering ready she said a small prayer to the G.o.ddess Dalpha to thank her for the challenge, and ask that the bear not harm itself in the trap should it still find it. She jumped to the forest floor, jogged back to the game trail and followed it to the next location. If she moved fast enough she could complete the trap circuit today.

Her energy increased in antic.i.p.ation of coming home after running the two-day trap circuit. The soft red pelts were tied into a tight bundle that bounced on her hips as she moved through the woods. The shadows were already very long as she approached the edge between the deep forest and the open lake glade near her home. Sitting by the lake in a suspiciously leisurely pose was the man her heart and soul agreed should be her life mate. She paused to observe him. Her heart was already racing, as it always did when she saw him. He was very tall, even sitting. His long, silky black hair flowed in the soft breeze. He wore the simple green leggings he preferred. He sat with his legs pulled under him so she couldn't see if he was barefoot or not, although it was likely he was in those horrible old boots he loved so much. His figure was striking in the brown tunic with long tapered cuffs she had made for him for Midwinter's Night.

He was gazing across the lake to the southeast. Always thinking and planning, as if he can alter the future to meet his desires. He hadn't noticed her and was sitting such that she could pa.s.s only a few dozen feet to the left and come up directly behind him. Smiling deviously, she cautiously moved to a better location for a stealthy approach. Softly setting down the satchel of squirrel carca.s.ses and her pouch in a spot just behind a tree, she edged out of the forest. Her devious smile and her forward motion froze as she registered that he wasn't where he had been a moment before.

"My lady needs a bath after such a work-filled day. Allow me to a.s.sist."

She screamed as strong hands grasped her hips from behind. Lifting her as if she was a leaf, he crossed the thirty feet to the edge of the lake in a couple of heartbeats at a dead run. She kicked and squirmed wildly, hoping to throw his balance off. Their speed did not abate on reaching the lake; instead, holding her high, he jumped, carrying both of them far out over the water. Midflight she managed to twist around and grab hold of him with both arms and legs. They held on to each other tightly, laughing together as the cold water welcomed them into its embrace.

Sputtering for air, Ticca sat up in bed. Her heart was pounding hard. Where am I? Shaking her head, she looked around the dimly-lit room. Sunlight was filtering in past the cracks in the shutters over the small window. The room smelled of dust and the faint hint of a musky perfume was teasing her nose. Sula's perfume. I am in Llino. This is my room at the Blue Dolphin. What the heck was that dream all about? I've never experienced anything in it at all; nothing even close, except maybe the hunting and tracking.

She moved shakily, her new boots silently hitting the hard wood floor and giving her a more grounded feeling. She bent over, holding her head for a minute as the final cobwebs cleared from her mind. That forest was so real. But I have never been in it before. Those squirrels were huge. And who was that man who carried me into the lake? In the dream I knew him. Except I don't think I have ever met anyone that looked like him before. Standing, she stretched and twisted, feeling great. Amazing what a good night's sleep can do.

Then she remembered the crowns. Maybe the whole night was a dream. Looking quickly at the table she sighed. Well at least some of it was real. She reached for the new pouch, grateful it was still there and real. Opening it, she pulled out the four s.h.i.+ny gold coins and small gla.s.s vial. She sat back down on the bed and placed the vial on the small table, playing with the coins in the sun's rays coming through the window. Four crowns in one night; I am going to make it here. I proved I'm a capable Dagger. Sula is no fool - that she paid me this means I proved myself to her. Smiling to herself, she stood, putting the coins back into the pouch.

Carefully and slowly she went through her ritual morning stretches as best as she could in the small s.p.a.ce. Her body virtually flowed through the movements without any complaints. Wow I am feeling amazingly good considering the beating I took last night. When she stretched her arms behind her she gritted her teeth, expecting the sharp pain her poor shoulder should have given her. Instead she was able to complete the back stretches without anything more than the normal slight pains of muscles loosing up.

Confused, she took off her s.h.i.+rt and examined her arm where the night before the large bruise had been. Her skin was a healthy dark olive. Stunned she looked over every place she could get to where there had been damage the night before. After careful examination she couldn't find a single blemish. All of the abuse from the night before had vanished as if it never happened. Even more interesting was that her skin was a fairer, more uniform color, as it had been when she was a few years younger before coming to the city.

I know I didn't dream the fight, and I had dozens of bruises in the bath last night. Seriously, I should have been hurting for at least a few days. Putting her s.h.i.+rt back on, she sat down on her bed, thinking through everything that had happened. I have never healed this fast. She looked down at the boots and thought about it for a minute. Could these boots be magical? I've never heard of healing boots. Actually, healing boots would be very practical and not likely to be suspected or taken if captured.

Taking the boots off and opening the shutters she examined them very closely once more, this time with the help of sunlight. They were still of the unusual very fine leather lined with a dense reddish brown fur with the best st.i.tching she had ever seen. Now I know where the red squirrels in my dream came from. Dreams are funny, oversized squirrels instead of a bunny or an ermine, this fur is like a denser rabbit fur. Laughing at her imagination she looked closely at the st.i.tching. I know I have seen st.i.tching like this before. But I can't place it. Shrugging to herself and turning the boot over, she examined the sole's construction. It was made from semi-hard leather that had been treated with something that made it glisten in the light and felt slightly tacky like tree sap, but not so tacky as to pick up dirt or dust. That is a neat trick. There were no raised heels, but the heels were stiffer with some internal support under the fur. She flexed the boots and found that the front of the boots were as flexible as her toes. I can climb with these. With the tacky sole treatment I bet I can climb even better with these on then off.

The fact I am alive is all the magic I need for now. Magical or not, these are the finest boots I have ever seen. Putting the boots back on her feet, she stood and gathered her belongings. She slipped her belt through the solid loops on the new pouch. It took a few minutes of playing with the throwing knife sheaths' arrangement on her belt before it felt comfortable and she was satisfied with the impression it would make. Putting the belt on over her s.h.i.+rt, she wiggled to be sure it settled comfortably onto her hips. She slipped the knives into the sheaths, trying not to look. This needs to be automatic and look smooth. She took the knives back out again without looking. Practicing drawing and sheathing each knife in turn, in groups, and at random took a little while. Eventually she was sure she could make it look good when needed. Forget the cross-belts; this is a good set-up, now it's time to see if I can make these work for me.

She put all her weapons around the room and stood in the center. Slipping sideways, she stretched her foot out; angling her boot toe under one throwing knife edge, she kicked it into the air. She turned around, caught it with her off hand, and sheathed it in one motion. Bending backward she scooped another knife from the table and one from the chair with both hands. The knives were sheathed before she had finished turning to step over the new short sword. Sweeping down, she picked up the short sword and then used it to flip the final throwing knife in the air and towards her from the far corner of the room. She sheathed the sword as she caught the knife. Sheathing the throwing knife she spun, grabbed the dagger from where it laid on the floor and brandished it in a single motion ending in a defensive crouch with another throwing knife in her other hand. Stepping forward, she spun and sheathed the dagger and throwing knife together as she straightened. Not bad, not bad at all. She started smiling at what she imagined that had looked like. With so many knives I might get mistaken for a Blade. 'Course with my cloak hiding some, this will do very nicely.

Feeling great, she grabbed her pack and dropped it on the bed. Not much was actually left out. Still it took a minute to pack everything else efficiently into the pack. Giving the room one last check, she checked that the new belt pouch was properly latched closed, and tied her pack closed as well. She slipped her shoulder pouch over her head and let herself enjoy the antic.i.p.ation. Today is going to be so much fun. I have wanted to do this for cycles.

With a very wide smile, Ticca locked the door, dropped the key into her new pouch, and then went down the three stories to the common room. Naturally the room was already busy. Genne was talking with two merchants, and three girls were moving around the room cleaning tables as well as serving new breakfasts with hot arit or jeel. Looking around the room, she saw that there were as yet no Daggers present. In fact there were only a handful of local workmen present; most workmen who breakfasted here had likely already been and left for the docks due to the early tide today. The few merchants present were all locals. The tradesmen had likely already headed to set up their goods in the trade square.

Ticca turned and walked the short distance to the very specific table she'd dreamed of sitting at for cycles. The table was one of the many open tables used by known Daggers. It was also one of the eight that could be permanently designated to a Dagger or Dagger fire-team. It was not a large table, just big enough for maybe two Daggers and a client or two to share. It had the advantage of being near the bar and the stairs, yet still commanded an excellent view of the left main room. It was also close enough to hear clearly the left room's performing bard which was important to keep up on the best tales, news, gossip, and of course enjoy the entertainment. It was also far enough from the bard's platform to allow conversing with clients. Most importantly, the table backed to a shallow nook so she could sit with her back to a wall so no one could come up from behind. It pays being an early riser. I beat Hairy and Frumpy again. But today I am going to move up a notch. Licking her suddenly dry mouth, she took some deep breaths to try and slow her heart, which started racing as she approached the table. Glancing around out of the corner of her eyes, she boldly sat down at the small table.

Even though no one looked as she sat down, she was sure a few took note. Genne didn't even stop his conversation and she'd half-expected him to protest. Genne hasn't kicked me away from here, so he at least is willing to let me sit here. She let her pack fall into the shallow contour of the wall, which meant it was out of sight from the most of the room. She watched the room and s.h.i.+fted to get more comfortable; her s.h.i.+rt was sticking to her back a little. d.a.m.n, I was more nervous than I expected, she thought as she covertly pulled her s.h.i.+rt away from her back. Leaning back against the wall, she felt her smile grow now that she had successfully taken a more prominent Dagger table. A couple of notches higher on the Dagger scale, now I need to earn it. It only took a few seconds before one of the serving girls came over and put down her breakfast in front of her.

"Which would you like this morning, your hot arit or the milk we got in? It's real fresh."

Ticca smiled at her for the courtesy of the total lack of acknowledgement of the significance of her chosen location. "Actually this morning I'll take both." The serving girl stood for a second to see if she was going to be asked for the price of the milk. When it was obvious Ticca was not going ask she looked a little curious, but nodded and moved off towards the kitchens. Ah that got you a little curious. She let her smile turn to a smirk.

As Ticca was taking her third bite, the serving girl came back with her milk and hot arit. Setting down the drinks, the girl moved off to take care of other customers. The expected familiar pair of young men came in the door and headed straight for her table. But, seeing it occupied, they stopped for a second and then turned, taking a different table. Ticca watched as they said something to the serving girl that made her shrug as she gave them their breakfast. Asking if I am an ignorant merchant's daughter or something I bet. I know who you are and I know who you tend to work for, but you haven't been paying much attention to anyone other than the big league Daggers, have you. After the girl brought back some hot arit for the two Daggers they drank deeply and then the hairy one put a highly polished dagger into the dagger holder in the center of their table. It had a wide winged hand guard, and a simple circular pommel; its hilt was wrapped with a blacked iron cord. Interesting, that is new. You two have only been doing simple patrol and guard stuff. Trying to move up to bigger jobs is risky. Especially since neither of you really look like the heavy fighting types.

A soft thud announced Genne's arrival at the table. She looked at him as he leaned back in the chair. He had taken the other Dagger chair which kept most of his back to the wall with only the kitchen door a serious approach threat. Always got your back covered, don't you. She smiled as winningly as she could, causing him to frown and cross his arms.

His tone was a little tired, like a scolding father, "Ya knows d'rules."

Taking another bite of the breakfast, she kept smiling and chewed for a moment before answering, just to try and draw him in a little more. "Mm, been meaning to chat with you about them, I think some things need to change."

Genne's face actually scrunched to that as if the mere thought of a change to the Blue Dolphin's rules caused him physical pain. Hairy was nudging his companion and indicating her direction in antic.i.p.ation of the show. Genne's voice changed to lower than normal, still calm and somehow very scary as he answered, "D'rules aint chang'n, m'la.s.s."

Bait, loop, and trap all in one shot. Keeping her winning smile she unlocked the pouch at her belt and reached in for the crowns. Except instead of feeling the four coins she expected, there was a couple of small cloth bags and other items she couldn't identify by touch. She heard her trainer's voice in the back of her head saying, 'Never let them see you flinch.' Looking back at Genne she saw she must have reacted somehow for him to pick up on as he began to frown even deeper. Now Hairy and Frumpy were smiling themselves, seeing Genne's obvious growing annoyance.

She tried not to sweat or look confused. One of the small bags was obviously a coin purse, and felt heavy with coins. Oh Lady, what has happened to me? Please be enough. She brought the coin purse out and opened it. Trying to act casually as if nothing was wrong she looked down and her heart skipped a beat or two. s.h.i.+ning back were more than fifty crosses, as well as some cheras, bells, pence, rings, and even three crowns. One slightly worn crown was sitting boldly on top like it was the king of the bag, which it was. Lady, thank you.

In the back of her head her trainer's voice continued on. 'Always go for the greatest impact.' Reaching into the purse and grabbing a crown and twenty crosses, she continued. "I meant," with deliberate motions putting the coins on the table, crosses first, punctuating her words, "changing our arrangement and my room."

Genne's eyes took in the purse and she was sure he could somehow sense the precise value of its contents. He then leaned forward and just as deliberately took the crown. He examined it, tasting first and then checking the heft against his years of experience handling such coins. "Well, d'night was good for you." Looking down, she saw that all the coins had vanished. "Der is a few Dagg'r rooms open."

"Yes, well I want a small one, preferably not too close to the stairs or baths."

"I'v jus d'one." Patting his pouch, which his hands had not gone close to prior, "Dis will give ya three cycles if'n ya don'wan food, two if'n ya wants all meals with'n hyly, arit, an yer milk."

Doing some unexpected counting in her head she considered it. She knew it would likely be reasonable for the Dolphin because Genne never inflated or cheated. Knowing it wasn't a bad deal made her pause. That is higher than I expected. I know the Dolphin is one of the best Inns in the city and also one of the most costly to stay at. At twelve - no, thirteen - crosses a cycle for the room and another seven for food I know I'll be eating full hot meals as I please. But if I get some good work soon I'll be able to maintain that rate. If I up my fee from a chera a day to a cross a day or six crosses for a week I would be just under the rate of some of the best in this room. I certainly have enough here to give me plenty of time to prove I can. Looking at Genne, she saw he had a slight smile in his eyes. He's scheming and I'm obviously on course. I need to be sure the stable fees are in this too. "Twenty-one crosses a cycle with stable, meals, hyly, arit, and milk for me and clients; but, as I don't drink much I also want baths and," sending up a small prayer to the Lady, "this table."

Genne's brows moved up and down a little as he obviously thought it through. His eyes told her he wasn't as surprised as she expected. You've been watching me closer than I thought. You knew I was going to ask for this table. Ticca had to remind herself to breathe as he thought it over. Genne was reputed to be one of the hardest men to cheat or negotiate with. Standing up, he held out his left arm. "Done."

It took a moment for her to recover from the shock of the quick agreement. She had expected to be bartering down to the threads of the bed cloth. Standing, she grasped his left forearm with her left hand. "Agreed." Across the room the two other Daggers had stopped mid-bite and stared.

Genne's large hand closed on her left forearm and he grabbed her left elbow with his right hand and held her there for a moment. Before he released her he whispered, "Ya done good lady. Try t'stay alive, I likes ya." Releasing her, he started to turn to go.

"Genne, one more thing." As he turned back to her she pulled another four crosses and two crowns out. "Make it four full cycles."

Smiling, he took the coins, nodded, and headed back to the bar.

Ticca knew the room was watching now for sure. Smiling, she did the maneuver she had dreamed of doing at the Blue Dolphin since she was a child listening to the stories the bards told. Years of practice had made the ch.o.r.eographed sequence seem gracefully nonchalant. As she turned and sat she put the coin purse back into the pouch and drew her dagger. It spun around her hand before drop silently into the table's holder where it stood boldly for all to see. It was a slightly longer than normal dagger polished to a mirrored surface, with a small bra.s.s cross guard etched with two packs of hounds running away from the blade, a fine bone hilt, and a diamond-shaped pommel. She smirked at the two shocked Daggers, who sat with their mouths hanging open, staring. She admired how nice the dagger looked standing straight up from the center of the table. That's right boys, this girl is an experienced hunting Dagger and dangerous. In the back of her head she heard her Uncle's voice when he was questioned about a Dagger story he was telling: 'It ain't braggng if you can do it. And let me tell you, Daggers can.'

Trying to not to pay too much attention to the room, she finished her meal. A few merchants openly inspected her dagger from a respectable distance, making a note in a journal or notepad before they left. She acknowledged them with a nod or smile. Some veteran Daggers came into the room for morning meals. She didn't catch a single one of them inspecting her like the new arrival she was and a few even nonchalantly acknowledged her with a nod, wave, or morning greeting. Overall it was quiet and a little anticlimactic.

When she finished her meal Ellar appeared by the table as the serving girl carried off the empty platter. Placing a square paper-wrapped package and an odd-looking key close to her hand, he said, "M'lady, for you."

Looking at the key, she thought about her next actions. I need to figure out what in the Lady's name is going on with this purse. Might as well inspect the room Genne thinks is right for me. Standing, she reached out for her dagger and in a fluid swirl pulled it from the holder, looped it over her hand, and let it drop lightly in its sheath. Packing up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder, she grabbed the key and moved toward the stairs.

Hairy and Frumpy stood up as she moved off and grabbed their dagger. Before she realized what they intended Genne's voice rang out clear and loud in the otherwise quiet room. "Oi, ya c'n plant yer selves back down lads. Dat table is Ticca's from now on." Hairy and Frumpy almost fell over backwards complying. Thankfully no one laughed too loudly. I didn't mean to embarra.s.s them. Last thing I need is enemies right now. She noticed a number of Daggers, merchants, and workman now looked her over fully and openly. Well that should spread the word better than anything I could do. Bet I get something to do pretty soon. Keeping her posture straight and casual she started up the stairs.

"Ta da right"

Jumping at Genne's voice so close, she turned. "Sneaking up on a Dagger isn't exactly safe."

He smiled as he gestured down the hall. "Dagg'rs pay 'tention, or dey die."

Ignoring the obvious jibe, "I thought you were dealing with customers."

"How'd ya fine yer room?"

She looked at the key; it was more complicated than she had seen before, there were two parallel rows of teeth and the tip was hollow on the end. Also it had no sign on it at all to indicate a room. She looked up at the hall of nearly identical doors that differed only in distance between them and color. The stone hall went a short distance from the stairs then did a gentle forty-five degree turn to the right, where it continued for some distance before ending. There were twelve doors in this hall, four on the left towards the rear, city-side of the tavern and eight on the right towards the front, wharf side. Each door looked completely solid, with a smooth surface, no handles, and each had an inlaid square bra.s.s plate in the center. Four parallel sliders moved horizontally, centered just above an engraving shaped like a keyhole for the key she held. The only exception was the door to her immediate left. That door didn't have a bra.s.s plate, instead the whole door was a glossy iron-colored metal with five sliders and three engraved circles around the keyhole engraving. Confused, she looked at Genne who had stood there watching her with a proud little smile.

"You have a point."

"Taint all dat hard. Yer key is fer d'purple door," he indicated the second door on the right. "D'sliders is a'secon lock. I'll hel'you t'set it. Den only you an' I will know it. I've a few keys t'each," he continued, gesturing at the row of doors. "If'n ya rent due an' ya don come ba' n'six cycles I call d'key, store everyting n' secret place. If'n ya don come ba' n'fifty years it's me family's clear. If'n ya come ba' you owe six cycles' rent plus a chera a cycle for safe store. Ya know how safe it tis here an' mos Dagg'rs pay tention for udder Dagg'rs. Still we ain't responsible if'n a thief gets inna your room." Looking her square on, he added, "An if'n ders a fight cuz o'you," he pointed a finger square at her chest, "yer ta pay fer damage. Clear?"

The price I agreed to is more than what I thought it was for a small Dagger room. We already agreed and nothing here will change it really; it is an interesting arrangement. I wonder if anyone has come back within fifty years. Looking straight back at him, she said, "Clear." Looking at the stone walls and running the new information through, she looked at the doors again. She glanced at the door on her immediate left that looked like solid metal. If it was painted it was the best job she had ever seen, but the locking mechanism wasn't a bra.s.s plate and something else was a little different. Pointing with her chin, she asked, "Whose room is that?"

Genne didn't even look. "Damega's. He's paid up clear for nodder few undred years. An glad I am, I don' wanna be d'one ta try an open it. Ta be honest I dou' we'll ever try ta claim it. See, he is d'one who designed d'locks an some of our udder features." Her eyes locked on the door, stunned as if it was a mythical monster come to life. Taking the key from her limp hand Genne stepped up to her door, moving the sliders to different spots. He waited a couple of seconds, then a soft click came from the panel and an interior cover slid out of the way, showing that the engraving was a real keyhole but with some kind of very tight-fitting internal cover. Genne stuck the key in and turned it to the right. A couple of clicks came from the door, and he pushed it open. As he removed the key another snap came from the lock as the sliders all returned to the far left and the interior cover slide back into place, turning the keyhole back into an engraving on the panel.

Stepping in, he motioned for her to look at the back of the door. Edging into a much larger room than she expected, she turned her attention to it. There was a handle in the middle of the plate which had another slider that moved vertically next to it.

"Ya c'n keep d'door open by mov'n dis up," indicating the vertical slider, which was currently all the way down. "Up an any'one c'n come in. Down an' its locked. Ya don need d'key ta get out." He paused, looking at her. She nodded that she understood the basic workings. Genne pulled a different key from another pouch, moved the sliders again to open the keyhole. This time he stuck the different key in and turned it hard to the left and held it there. "Move these how ya wan dem t'open d'key'ole."