"I think you remind me a lot of me at your age," he said with a smile. "So I think you're probably going to attempt this with or without help."

"I also have a friend outside," Matner added. "I spoke with him in the market this morning. He's a warrior from over the mountains--the other mountains, he's not a giant."

"You'll need more help than that," Arnish pointed out. You'll need help getting to them and getting them free. Then you'll need some kind of distration to slip them out. It might be best if you had a wagon to hide them in."

"Yes, I don't think going over a wall is a viable option," Matner remarked.

"The walls are tall, and the guard towers have good visibility," Arnish explained. "The only inconspicuous way in or out is through the gates."

Matner tried to think of other options, knowing that if he had others he could feel more comfortable choosing the one that seemed best. As far as he could tell, surprise was going to be the only advantage he would have. And the more elves he tried to rescue the harder it would be. He did not know how to decide how many, and then which ones.

"My friend is looking to see who can be trusted just outside the keep," Matner said. "I'm supposed to do the same here."

"You're going to have a difficult time finding help amongst the soldiers, most certainly," Arnish told him. "You'd be better to work on the merchants. Mind you, some of the most obvious of allies will also be under scrutiny from the Matgistrates and military. Slaves are a long-standing tradition here at Garzer Keep. Those who have them or are in a position to acquire them soon, are more diligent about making sure that no one disrupts that tradition. It is here and Randolph Keep where the harshes measures are taken with slaves who try to escape and those who help them. The fact that there is a bounty on them is the only thing keeping your two Elves alive. Greed runs high here. If they are returned to Tikor, the child will likely be killed and the woman returned to her Master so he can decide her fate. If there weren't a price on her head, she'd be scheduled to die already."

"Is that what will happen to the others down there?" Matner asked.

"Most of them, yes. Most times a slave owner is expected to discipline their slaves themselves. But if one tries to escape, an example must be set for the others. Lord Tyvish will compensate the owner for the loss and execute the slave publicly. The manner of execution is decided by the owner, however, so sometimes it is a long, drawn-out process." Arnish frowned, in obvious disapproval.

"A few are down there because they have become too old or sick and their owners have abandoned them, because they are considered worthless. They, at least, will have a quick and quiet execution. There are some, however, who have proven troublesome to their owners. When an owner cannot control his slave, he can pay the Lord Tyvish to have his men break them, as one might a horse. Once broken, they are returned to their master."

Matner closed his eyes for a moment, trying to count in his head the number of slaves he had seen in the cages.

"There's about a dozen down there," he said, opening his eyes.

"Plus one more who tried to escape this morning. A child who tried to escape thrugh the sewers under the keep. She was caught by one of the guards posted just outside to prevent such things. Children are usually beaten before being returned, unless it's their second attempt. She'll be killed. The Elves currently in servitude here will be brought to watch that one. But then you're thinking of trying to take them all, now aren't you?"

"I can't just leave them!" For a moment, Matner allowed his horror to show on his face. "It's amazing you don't run out of Elves to kill from the sound of it!"

"Haven't you heard? Some of the noblemen are selectively breeding them now. The more docile and beautiful ones are brought together and encouraged to mate."

"How can you watch this and not do something?" Matner asked. "I was told they should have been released years ago, and instead we're breeding and breaking them like horses? It isn't right!"

"The only ways one might be able to change what is would be if they had an army or could convince the King and all of his advisors that it wrong. Personally, you'd be better off with an army. And somewhere strategically safe to base yourself. Otherwise, to try and do anything will either bring pain or death upon you or someone you care about." Arnish paused for a moment, his face grim.

"I will help you, Matner," he said finally. "However, the length to which I am willing to go is not up to me. The last time I attempted to intervene on the behalf of a slave the cost was not mine to bear. I will discuss this with Miraselle and Loridan. They will decide how much help I can be to you. Miraselle will also know of others in the keep who might be willing to help. There might be a price, however. There may be things asked of you in return. How willing are you to do what is needed to help these Elves?"

"This isn't something I can walk away from, Sir. I've already nearly died helping these two, and I can't pull them out and leave the rest of them down there. I've already promised myself I'll do this, and I don't make promises lightly."

"I just want you to think over what this will mean," Arnish said. "Go back and see if the rest of your things have been returned yet or not. Buckle on that sword, and think about what it, and the academy, and all you were taught there mean to you. Your identity is known here. You will not be some unknown thief. You will be labeled a traitor to the king. You will never be able to go home. There will probably be reward posters for you in some cities." Arnish stopped and tidied up his desk. The room felt unnaturally quiet.

"You need to decide what's more important to you, Matner, your name and standing in the kingdom, or your actions. You may also have to ultimately decide between their freedom and your own. Every other decision you will ever make after this will be affected by it."

"It won't be the first big decision, and I think a lot of decisions had led me to this. But I understand what you mean, and I will think it over carefully. You're right that I should, just to be sure."

"Take the afternoon," Arnish ordered. "Eat dinner. Then, if you're going to go forward come back here after dinner. Miraselle and Loridan will be waiting to show you to a room. If you do change your mind, I will write you that letter to the innkeep."

"Yes, sir," Matner said, standing and saluting with a smile.

"Go on then," Arnish waved a hand towards the door, "and send Miraselle in on your way out. She'll be just outside in the hallway."

The elven woman was in the hallway when Matner left the room. She had been sitting several feet away from the door, still working on darning socks from the basket. She immediately dropped the sock into the basket and stood up when Matner came into the hall, looking in his direction but mostly looking at his feet rather than at his face.

In his father's house he'd never felt any hesitation at passing on an order to either servants or elves, but suddenly he found his mouth go dry at the prospect of telling Miraselle to do anything. There was an awkward moment of silence before he found the words to say anything at all.

"He... um... I mean, S-sir Arnish would... like to... f-for you to go in... again."

He saw her eyes flit up for a moment, as if she was trying to catch the look on his face as he stammered out the words. His cheeks flushed as he realized how idiotic he must sound, and he was sure he saw a brief instant of amusement on the elf's face before she snatched up her basket and curtsied.

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

Her voice was soft and she moved around him into the room so quickly it almost felt as if the words were spoken after she had left the hallway, echoing lightly off the stone floor beneath his feet.

He made his way back, out of the West tower and across the courtyard, thinking both about Miraselle and his conversation with Arnish. He hardly noticed the people moving to and fro as he made his way through them, towards the Northwest tower.

If I go through with this, I can never go home again, he thought to himself. Although I don't think I was honestly expecting to anyway. I suppose I should write a letter to my parents, explaining... He stopped, both in thought and physically, and was almost bowled over by a man coming up behind him with a heavy basket filled with what looked like dirty laundry. The man cursed at him as he nearly dropped his load and Matner apologized and moved out of the man's way. He then moved off to one side of the courtyard and sat down on a small bench at the edge of a flower garden, to continue his thoughts.

What would I say? I can't exactly tell them I'm about to become a traitor as far as the King is concerned, can I? That would devastate both of them. How do I explain that what I'm about to do is the right thing to do? Would either of them even begin to understand? He thought that perhaps his Mother might be able to be convinced if he was there in person, but he was unlikely to persuade her in a simple letter.

Author's Note

Sorry.

He supposed that part of his concern was knowing that they would find out one way or the other, and wanting to control how. In the end he decided it was not something he was going to focus on just then. First he had to decide what he was doing.

He sat for a while on the hard wood bench and partly looked at the flowers and partly watched the people walking to and fro about their daily business.

The flowers were thriving mostly on their own. He was reasonably convinced that they had been watered now and then, and sometimes weeded. But they grew a little haphazardly, where more of the flower gardens he had seen back home had been methodically planted and tended in orderly rows and patterns. These were mixed flowers growing seemingly randomly in bunches, filling in squares between paving stones.

He saw people walking slowly and people walking quickly as if they might be out on some important business. He saw people walking empty-handed and people burdened by baskets and bundles. A bored guard paced back and forth along a section of wall. A chicken wandered into the area and clucked rudely, jumping back from people that walked too close to it.

He found himself thinking about the caravan and the people he had met. He remembered that Frank had been a bandit first, and then a caravan guard. Frank would have been able to give him valuable advice. He tried to imagine what Frank would say about his current predicament. He suspected Frank would tell him on one hand not to throw away a good thing, but that on the other hand he had to be true to himself. Maybe, he decided, Frank would not have been that helpful anyway.

Then he remembered the strange and lonely oracle out in the tower with his wolf. What had the man said? He would help some people, and fail others. He would make some mistakes, but it would work out good in the end. The man had said to follow his heart and his instincts. Both said to help the elves. He decided. He stood up and walked purposefully back to Prenish's tower.

Prenish was not in his office, but a young man dressed similarly to how Irving had been, sat at Prenish's desk, busily writing on some parchments. Matner attempted to stride in and past without stopping, keeping his walk purposeful and going straight to the room. True to what Arnish had told him, all of Matner's bags and belongings seemed to be piled neatly onto the bed. The scuff of boots behind him suggested the young man had followed him to the room.

"You must be Matner," the man said as Matner turned to look at him.

"I am," Matner said, nodding. "Where would I find my horses being kept?"

"Oh, um, they're in the keep stables. I can show you if you like."

"And what's your name then?" Matner asked.

"I'm Brent," the young man told him. "It's my shift now. You met Irving before."

"Well, Brent," Matner said, extending a hand, "nice to meet you."

"You as well, sir." Brent replied, shaking Matner's hand.

"I would like it if you could show me where my horses are being kept. And then I would like to know if there is somewhere I might bathe before dinner, if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course. I can arrange that as well."

"Wonderful, thank you." Matner gestured towards the door and Brent led the way, taking him down to the stables. He was shown to a large stall where the three horses he, Sharnellynn, and Ahriender had were being housed together. They looked a bit cramped, but seemed otherwise well-taken care of. Then Brent showed him to an area within Prenish's tower, where there were several small bathing tubs lined up in a room together, some already full of water. A kettle boiled merrily over a stove against the wall.

"It's not the same as what the Master Healer, Magistrate, and Captain each have," Brent said, apologetically, "but it's what we have available. Most people brought in for healing have somewhere else they can go afterwards. This is the bathing area for students of the Master Healer and attendents to the Magistrate and Captain. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Matner replied. "This will do fine."

"Then, if there's nothing else?"

"No, Brent. Thank you."

The young man nodded and headed off, back towards the office. Matner pulled off his clothes and added some hot water to one of the tubs before bathing. Then he dried off with one of the towels and pulled his clothes back on. He took a moment to refill the kettle on the stove before heading back to the office. This time, neither Brent , nor Prenish were anywhere to be seen, although a bored-looking guard stood next to the door as always. Matner wondered if the man was there due to him, or if he was always on guard. He didn't ask, but pulled the door to the room shut behind him and quickly checked through his belongings to be sure nothing was missing. Everything seemed to be in order, so he strapped on his sword, leaving the armor in one of the bags. Then, once everything was ready to take to Arnish's tower afterwards, he went down to the dining hall again, for supper.

The hall was noisy and crowded with people either sitting in groups eating or standing in line. He took a place at the end of the line and took the moment to think while casually watching the people.

There were a few guards and soldiers standing around with swords. Few others wore them. He watched one of the captains, who was wearing a sword in a decorative scabbard, go directly to the front of the line and get food immediately. No one seemed to protest this.

One of the things he knew he needed to figure out was how to get Dir Ketten's swords to him discretely. Just handing them over in the market would probably not go unnoticed, he suspected. It occurred to him to wonder if Prenish would have him followed. He decided to be more careful just in case.

He saw Arnish sitting alone writing something. Miraselle and Loridan were nowhere to be seen, naturally. Arnish did not look up, but the aging Captain had said to see him after dinner.

Once Matner got his food he wound his way among the tables until he took the first open space he could find. He ended up sitting amongst a group of merchants and caravan owners. The caravaners were all discussing prices of goods in other cities, and the local merchants were suggesting what they might pay for some of them to sell here.

"You're obviously new here," one of the merchants eventually said to Matner, "which direction did you come from, then?"

"East," he answered between mouthfulls.

"You see what I'm saying," another merchant said, pointing at Matner. "Look at his clothes then! They have more money to buy with East of here! We're better off buying the goods coming in off the northern river than those coming through Miln. The closer you get towards the capital city, the more expensive the goods are. And that price carries down to us. By the time I get a shipment of fabrics, the tailors and seamstresses can't afford to buy them and make items to sell. They have to wait for the buyer to purchase the fabric they want and then seek them out to pay for the clothing to be made. We're better buying the newer fabrics being made in the west than trying to do anything with the goods that pass through Miln."

"While that may be true for fabrics and lumber," another man commented, "some things can only be brought in from the East, same as some things are exclusive to the North and West. There are more goods coming in from the West every year, but the quality isn't as good on many things. The coffee, wine, and ale coming that way, for example. The coffees always seem bitter and don't sell as well. The ale is weak and the wine is rushed, not aged long enough. The settlements haven't been established long enough yet to really produce a decent wine. The best wine comes out of Ascot and Endron, and then end up traveling through the capital to get here."

"But how many bottles 'o that stuff do ye really sell then Nate?" another merchant asked. "Who's even got the money ta buy it anymore?"

There was a chorus of agreement from around the table.

"Some of the Captains still appreciate a fine wine, Earnest," the man answered. "As do the Magistrates, and the Lord Commander generally keeps himself in supply. And I do keep mid-grade stock that's more affordable for everyone else."

"Affordable, eh?" the first man scoffed. "I've seen your prices Nate. I'd hardly call that affordable. I'm be hard-pressed to justify one bottle to toast the couple at my daughter's wedding next month!"

"Maybe that has to do with the western fabrics you've been selling, Justin," Nate answered calmly. "I've found that people will pay for a quality product. But those fabrics are inexpensive because they are thin as parchment and about as sturdy."

"I'm just frustrated hiring more and more guards to keep th'bandits away," another added. "They're gettin' worse each season."

"I know what you mean," Matner took the opportunity to add. "The road from Tikor to here was fraught with them."

"Where was it worse," Justin asked, "out there or out here?"

"There were well more than a dozen of us when we left New Callest," Matner explained. "We had a problem just days outside Tikor, and I got separated from the group. Four of us kept going, hoping to meet up with the rest. I was attacked again the night before arriving here, and barely survived."

"Well," Nate added, "If the Guard won't do something soon, I'm thinkin' we each pitch in for a bounty on them."

"Is that legal?" one of them asked.

"I'd be tempted to get in on some of that," Matner said. "Getting paid for some payback would feel good about now."

"I don't see why t'wouldn't be legal," Earnest shrugged. "They offer bounties fer slaves all the time."

"To bring them back," someone pointed out. "Bounties are otherwise usually only offered up by the Magistrates or the Lord Commander."

"So we take it up with Magistrate Effisk," Justin suggested. "Convince him to put a bounty out."

"The reason Effisk is in charge of the Merchant guild is because he's a miser," another commented. "He wouldn't put money in on that."

"We could hire mercenaries to deal with it though," Nate offered.

"That's a legal gray area," Justin shook his head. "Hiring people to send out specifically to kill bandits could be construed as hiring murderers. Besides, how do we even know they'd do more than just take the money and run?"

"We have 'em bring back the heads 'o the bandits ta receive their money!" Earnest said excitedly.

"No."

Several of them said it all at once, most frowning at Earnest as they did. Earnest shrugged and mumbled something noncommital back at the group.

"If nothing else," Matner asked Earnest, "how would you know that heads brought back were actually bandits?"

Earnest admitted that was a good point. Matner suggested that the bandits probably had some camp they were using as a base of operations, and were probably spending some of that money somewhere, unless they were just hoarding it all.

The others could agree that seemed likely, but they were not sure where to look. Matner figured it had to be within an hour walk of the road. But he knew that there would be too many for Dir Ketten and him to handle by themselves, so he did not try to push the conversation. Eventually it drifted on to other topics.

He excused himself and one of the caravaners stopped him. The man suggested that he was going east in a few days, and would happily hire Matner on if he was going the right way.

"No, thank you," Matner replied. "I think I'll be continuing west. I've got some friends I'm trying to find." He gave a brief description of Old Fredrickson, but none of them had seen him.

Sorry folks, but I'm just not feeling well today and I'm not going to be able to get a post up. I'll put mine up tomorrow sometime instead.

RaynDragon

A couple of them knew who the dwarf was, however, and agreed to pass a message along if they saw him over the next couple of weeks. He mentioned to them that he'd be moving along as soon as he could get some business matters cleared up here and that he hoped to meet up with the caravan again in one of the towns further West. He left things vague, hoping that the Dwarf might be able to figure out some of what was going on and maybe even avoid Garzer Keep altogether. Regardless, he planned to keep the knowledge of his association with them down to a minimum. If he was able to get Sharnellynn and Ahreinder out, along with the other imprisoned elves, it could make things more difficult for Old Fredrickson when he arrived. Matner still couldn't be sure if he was making faster or slower progress than the caravan would be.

Afterwards, he returned to the NorthWest tower and gathered his belongings. Irving was back, sitting at Prenish's desk while he read something out of one book and then wrote something down onto a long scroll of parchment paper. He looked up when Matner arrived, but didn't attempt to stop him.

"Be well," the young man said instead, as Matner went to leave.

"Thank you," Matner said, giving him a smile. "You too."

Irving nodded and smiled back, before returning to his work. Matner hefted his bags and left the tower, lugging everything across the courtyard with hiim to the West tower next. He hadn't realized his combined belongings were so heavy, since he hadn't had much in the beginning. But then he realized he was also lugging along what the Elves had and the items Dir Ketten had left with him as well. There was also a difference between wearing one's armor and carrying it along in a bag instead.

It still did not take him long to find Arnish's office again, and Miraselle was there waiting in front of Arnish's desk, while another Elf stood with his back to the door, looking out the window. He turned when Matner entered, and it seemed the man was scowling. In contrast, Miraselle stepped forward with a smile.

"Let me take those for you," she offered, holding out a hand.

"It's alright, I can manage, thank you," Matner smiled, shaking his head. "Although knowing where to put them would help."

"I'll show you. Then we can talk."

Matner nodded, and followed her out into the hallway. They went down one flight of stairs and she showed him to a room that was much larger and more comfortable than the one he'd been in previously. There was a large, overstuffed bed with four thick wood posters holding up a canopy and drapery rails around it. There was a bureau in one corner and a small desk and chair in another. Under the window was a small washing table, which included a mirror in it's amenities. The window itself was large and faced into the courtyard. It's shutters were open, letting in the cool evening air. He dropped his things on the floor next to the bed before thanking her and following her back into the hallway.

"Loridan has a difficult time trusting anyone who wannts to help," she said quietly just before they reached the stairs. "You'll want to be patient with him. He only hopes to protect me."

She led him to a large sitting room. There were two large stuffed chairs facing each other over a small table next to a dormant fireplace. There were open windows on either side of the fireplace, while the other walls were entirely bookshelves broken only by two doors.

Loridan was dusting books industriously while Arnish was sitting in one of the chairs sipping at a mug of something. Arnish gestured to the other chair.

"Sit, and tell me what you've decided."

He moved to the other chair and settled into it. It was almost too big for him, but he found himself a comfortable position. The two elves remained in the room, both standing. Miraselle stayed behind him somewhere. The tall, somewhat enclosed back of the chair did not let him look around much.

"I still want to go forward with this," Matner said. "I had been concerned before that you would not approve, and if so I had not wanted to unduly influence Loridan and Miraselle with my thinking."

"You are a smart and considerate man, Matner, although you took an enormous risk in telling me at all."

"I had to tell someone," Matner said, growing vaguely uncomfortable without knowing why. He guessed that the presense of the elves as they talked was making it more awkward. "And I thought you might be willing to help. Frankly, I need help and I know it. I had to trust someone, and that meant taking a risk."

"You're going to have to take a lot more risks before this is over. If it ever is. Once you've been labeled a traitor, you can't just turn back. Do you understand that?"

"I do," Matner nodded. "And I know I will always wish I could have explained this to my parents before they end up hearing it from someone else. But that's not enough to deter me. Part of the reason I left was to find my own path, not have my parents to determine it for me."

"Hmm," Arnish said, looking thoughtful for a moment. "And this isn't, perhaps, about the girl?"

"The girl?" Matner asked, confused.

"You wouldn't be the first young man to fall for a young Elven woman, Matner. I've been down to see for myself. She's quite attractive."

"I - I..." Matner found himself caught off guard by the shift in conversation. He knew he did have an attraction to Sharnellynn, but also knew he wanted to protect both her and her son. And he'd known when he'd seen the rest of the elves caged in the dungeon, that he couldn't just leave them behind.

"No, sir," he answered emphatically. "This isn't just about her. As I said before, I want to get all of them out of there."

"Well, what do you two think?" Arnish asked, casting glances at Loridan and Miraselle.

"There have been plans laid before, to try and save people from the dungeon, but never carried out," Miraselle said softly from behind him. "Part of the problem was often having no one to defend them while they travel west. Smuggling out one or two with the occasional caravan has been one thing -"

"Miraselle!" Loridan erupted, clearly upset. "You say too much before this boy with a sword. Even if we can trust him, do you really believe he could defend them and find somewhere safely out of the King's reach?"

"I can't just stand by and watch another Elven child die, Loridan. I can't. We know Chrisella well. If we have a way to save her daughter... What would we do if it were our child?"

There was a silence that blanketed the room for a moment, thick and heavy. Arnish was staring at the empty fireplace, his brow furrowed. The darkness was enough that he couldn't see the expression on Loridan's face clearly enough to read it, and Miraselle was still behind the chair Matner sat in.

"Perhaps Chrisella should have taught Gyra better than to try and escape. Perhaps we should all learn. Perhaps the Gods intend this as our fate." Loridan's voice sounded tired and sad.

"You shame your heritage with those words, Loridan," Miraselle said, somehow gently despite the accusation the words held, " and mine."

Loridan seemed to be looking at her, and Matner found himself holding his breath as he waited for one of them to speak.

"There will be cost," Loridan finally said. "Is it worth it?"

"I think it's time. I think it's long overdue."

"Very well."

Loridan's words were barely a whisper, and he turned away, going back to dusting the bookshelves. Miraselle stepped around the chair and looked straight at Matner. Her eyes were filled with determination, the gentleness he'd seen before momentarily missing.

"I hope you are truely prepared to do what's necessary," she told him. "People will die for what we are about to do."

"A few elements have been planned out already," she explained. "We have been waiting a long time for this opportunity. You will need help, and I can only help you with so much of it."

"There will have to be three components to the plan," Arnish said. "Getting in and out of the cell block, getting out of the city, and getting away from pursuit."

"Yes," Matner agreed, "that makes sense."

"There is a tunnel," Miraselle explained with her eyes closed, "the guards use it to bring us down there out of sight of everyone else. Nobody has to watch. It comes out at a guard hut. There will be one or two guards there, although they're not really there to guard the tunnel entrance."

"So I could use that to get to the cells, and then back out again?" Matner asked. That sounded easy enough. He and Dir Ketten should have no trouble overpowering two guards.

"There will also be guards at the cells. Plus they have dogs. Mean and hungry dogs that have been raised with a taste for elven meat."

"I've seen them," Matner pointed out. "They'll make noise and attract attention. That's probably the most dangerous part."

"I don't know," Miraselle said. "Those dogs bark a lot. The guards might be used to a certain amount of it. But you'll need to act quickly, certainly."

"I still say we should drug the dogs," Loridan said, stepping forward. "They are fed once in the morning and once in the evening, according to Edranoth. He is usually the one who takes the scraps down to the cells. It would be easy for him to slip something into the meat to make them sleep. Considering how the guards like to torment him with those dogs, I don't think it would be hard to get him to do it."

"He might talk," Miraselle said, shaking her head. "He's terrified enough as it is, Loridan. We couldn't trust him not to tell someone."

"What if someone else slipped it in the meat?" Matner asked. "If we knew the route he takes with it, we could intercept it somehow and he might never know."

"That could be done," Arnish said, nodding. "It is something to consider."

"We'd be better off drugging the guards if we could," Miraselle sighed. "But they take their meals in the dining hall between shifts."

"My friend and I will deal with the guards," Matner nodded. "As long as we can take them down quickly enough so they don't have a chance to call out, we should be alright."

"And that has been one of the problems with our plan," Miraselle said. "We haven't exactly had anyone with weapons training on our side."

Arnish cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at Miraselle at that remark. "I wouldn't say that you haven't had anyone with weapons training."

"I'm sorry, Sir Arnish," she quickly said, making a small bow in his direction. "I meant -"

"I know what you meant, Miraselle. It is nothing. But two armed men, assuming Matner's friend can hold his own, are not going to be enough to get everyone safely out of the city. As I told Matner earlier, he'll need a wagon. Preferably with hay or fabrics - something that can be hidden beneath. And we will need to move it out quickly, before anyone has time to realize what has happened. And we're going to need a distraction. I still feel a fire would garner the right sort of attention."

"As long as we set it up so that no one is hurt," Miraselle nodded. "I have people willing to set the oil in place to hasten and bolster the flames, so it will be more difficult for them to put out."

"The wagon will be harder," Loridan commented. "We only have a few merchants we can trust, and none far enough for this. We would either have to purchase a wagon or steal one."

"I have no money," Matner reminded Arnish, "so stealing it sounds like what has to happen. I guess it'll be a matter of hitching up the horses and wagon and running them to the tunnel entrance."

"No," Arnish said, crossing his arms. "Too risky. If someone sees you stealing the wagon and raises any kind of alarm you won't be able to get the elves out. I'll give you money to buy the wagon and horses with. You can do that tomorrow."

"Loridan and I will get our parts ready," Miraselle added. "Do we intend to do this tomorrow night?"

"Potentially," Arnish replied. "Let's hold off on final details until the wagon is purchased. If there are delays in that part it potentially pushes everything back."

"That makes sense," Matner agreed.

Lordian finished with the duster and dropped it into a tall metal cup. It made a clanging noise that seemed louder in a thought-filled silence. Everyone had their own tasks to think about.

"I'll talk to my friend tomorrow after breakfast," Matner said. "Should he come here later so we can get him involved in planning?"

"Yes," Arnish replied. "Once you buy the wagon you can 'hire' him for the business venture you're trying out. It sets a reason to use afterwards during the investigations."

The little planning meeting wrapped up after that. Matner went back to his room and sorted through his things. The word investigation hung in his head a little ominously as he set Dir Ketten's swords and armor aside.

"Have you killed a man before, Matner?"

Loridan's voice startled him as Matner was going through his clothes. He turned around and saw the man standing in the doorway, holding a small purse in one hand.

"Yes," Matner replied. "I have."

"Good," Loridan stepped forward and held out the purse. "I'd hate to put our fates in the hands of a man who's never known what it is to kill someone. They wouldn't have what it takes to do what has to be done. Arnish sent me to give you this for the wagon."

"Thank you," Matner stepped forward and took the bag, looking at it and thinking.

Loridan peered out into the hallway for a moment before closing the door so the two men were alone in the room together.

"Miraselle thinks she will lead all paths of suspicion to herself when this is all said and done. I know her well enough to know she will even try to claim to have coerced you into it. Then they will murder her, Matner. Slowly and publicly. I can not allow that to happen."

For just a moment, the room was absolutely still. Matner looked into Loridan's eyes and thought that the man was contemplating an attempt to kill him right then and there, to save his wife. The Elf's jaw was set in such determination that Matner didn't doubt the man could do it, even unarmed as he was. He held his breath, waiting to see what Loridan would do.

"You're going to take her with you at the end of this," Loridan eventually told him. "I don't know how yet. I may have to drug her. She won't want to leave me behind."

"Why don't you both come?" he asked.

"She can be of more help to the others than I. And someone needs to stay behind if Arnish is to survive this."

"They will kill you instead." He didn't ask it as a question. He already knew the answer, but somehow needed to say the words.

"Yes. And I will be proud to die for this if it works and I know she is safe."

Before Matner could say more, Loridan turned and strode out of the room, clearly filled with purpose. Matner found himself sitting down on the bed, the bag of coins heavy in his hands as he thought about what Loridan had just said.

Sorry folks, but with it being both Mother's Day and a family gathering today for our son's birthday last Sunday, we've just got too much to do to get any writing in this morning. The story should resume again tomorrow.

RaynDragon

He sat down on the bed and counted out the money. He was not sure how much horses would cost, let alone the wagon. He also thought about how many horses he would need. He tried to picture the elves he had seen down there. Most of them did not seem to weigh a great deal. He knew wagons could carry a lot of weight, so he did not think there would be a problem there.

Speed, he reasoned, would be the main problem. If he had enough horses, then perhaps he could get all of them on to horseback. Even doubled up on the horses, that would be the fastest way to cover ground.

He unbuckled his sword and set it on the little table along with Dir Ketten's. He undressed to his smallclothes, setting his boots next to the bed and folding the clothes neatly.

The bed was comfortable, and he pulled a sheet over him against the soft breeze of summer air coming in through the open window. It took a while for his mind to settle enough for sleep, and for that while he tossed and turned, trying to put the myriad complications to his plan out of his mind.

Eventually sleep did come, but it was a fitful one. He dreamt of the attempt, and in the dream it went badly, although in the morning he could not remember what had gone wrong. The morning itself came soon, but sunlight spilling in through the window urged him out of bed. He dressed quickly and grabbed his sword on his way out, buckling it around his waist in a stairway.

He hardly noticed the breakfast he ate, as it seemed the plate was empty after only a few minutes. He glanced around at the people in the dining hall, trying not to look as nervous as he felt. There was a knot of tension in his stomach, and the food did not seem to help it any. It also felt as if the dining hall was unusually busy, although he was sure it was just his imagination. He did not see Arnish amongst any of the people eating, nor anyone else he specifically recognized, other than a couple of the merchants he'd dined with the night before. This morning the only free space had been next to some of the soldiers. While he gave them a friendly smile when he sat down, none of them seemed interested in conversation. Most of that particular group looked a bit tired, and he suspected they were actually hung over.

The marketplace was bustling with energy as he made his way around after breakfast. He knew he needed to find Dir Ketten first, as the nomad would be expecting him. As he walked, however, he watched for merchants selling horses and wagons. He saw two, spread out over large areas at either end of the market. One was butted up against the center keep building wall, while the other had a large canopy in a fenced-off section, closer to the main keep wall, and nearer to the keep's stables. He wondered which would have better prices, and decided he'd probably have to talk to both. He inquired at a saddle merchant, and found out there was a third one just outside the keep walls, although he was warned that the merchant's horses were a bit scrawny.

Eventually he made his way back to the area he had met Dir Ketten in on the previous day, and browsed some wares, keeping an eye out for the man. At first he did not see Ketten, until he turned a corner and Ketten grabbed him by the arm, yanking him between the back flaps of two tents where they would be less likely to be seen.

"You're trying to scare me to death, aren't you?" he asked Dir Ketten quietly.

"I'm being cautious," came the flat statement reply.

"You and I aren't wanted here," Matner explained. "Just Sharnellynn and Ahriender, and they're already caged. Is there still some reason we can't be seen together?"

"That magistrate who held you might have someone watching you," Dir Ketten said. "And I saw someone asking about Old Fredrickson. I am suspicious about the man I saw."

"Well, we won't be here much longer," Matner explained, hoping to reassure his friend. "I've found us friends eager to help. They have been trying to help elves get through here, and they're willing to get involved. They have most of a plan, and I think it's a good one."

"And what is this plan?"

"There's a tunnel that leads to where they're being held. There will be a pair of guards near the entrance. At the other end will be a couple more plus some dogs. The dogs will be drugged. You and I need to deal with the guards and get the elves out. Friends will arrange a distraction, and we slip out."

"You mean to rescue more than just two, don't you?" Dir Ketten said it more as a statement than a question.

"There are about a dozen of them," Matner said. "I have money to buy a wagon to get them away in."

"Where did the money come from?" his eyes narrowed, as Dir Ketten seemed ready to disapprove.

"One of the people willing to help us. You can meet him later. Meanwhile, maybe you could help me pick out a wagon, as I have no experience in what a decent wagon should look like. We'll also need horses. I'm thinking we could double up and switch to riding them later."

"You'll need a team of six horses then. You'll want to buy a heavy wagon and heavy wares to pull then, otherwise it will seem strange that you would use more than a team of two or four horses. How much money do you have?"

He told him, and Dir Ketten shook his head.

"It will be difficult. One of the merchants outside the city knows a man who needs to sell some of his horses, however. He seems potentially sympathetic and I may be able to cut a deal with him."

They discussed prices on horses, until they came to an agreement on what would be fair to pay, also leaving a certain portion of the money available for the wagon to be purchased with, along with a small budget for items to be put into the wagon as "wares" they would be selling, and more food for the journey itself.

"We'll need something large that also appears heavy. We can then add wood supports beneath to hold it up so that it looks as if there would be more benath. Carpets, tapestries, or heavy tent canvas would be best. Tent canvas will be less costly and we can make use of it for tents later."

They agreed that Dir Ketten would find someone to purchase horses from, in case he could get a better deal, while Matner would find the wagon and wares. Dir Ketten gave him a few pointers on what things to look for in a wagon. Then they arranged a time to meet, just before lunch, to compare notes.

Author's Note

He spent the rest of the morning pretending that he was trying to become a merchant. He hung around some of the other merchants, pretending to study how they traded.

He got into conversations with several, mentioning that he thought he would combine his love of travel with some business venture. He pointed out some of what he had overheard about prices being very different for goods and materials from place to place. He could travel about and trade to pay his way. He could make a living and enjoy it.

At each stop he let them share their tidbits of advice. Most of them were happy to offer friendly advice. The ones he was talking to were locals who did not travel. He was not competition for him, but they knew the business well. He figured if they remembered him having plenty of questions and listening to advice then he could slip in some specific questions without anything being at all suspicious.

He got advice about different kinds and sizes of wagons. Everyone insisted he should make sure he had at least one spare wheel. Having a wheel break and being stranded in some remote wilderness was obviously not a good situation. He played along with how bad that would be with a wagonload of expensive goods.

After he felt he'd gotten enough information, he went and talked to the two wagon merchants next. The first one was a heavyset man who's hair was short and thinning. He slurped loudly from a large mug of coffee while they talked, and occasionally turned to bellow instructions to one of his sons, who were either talking to other customers or working on building a wagon. The man had two wagons currently ready, both priced higher than Matner could really afford to pay the man, and only one of which would be sturdy enough. Matner thanked the man for his time and said he'd have to think about it.

The next wagon merchant was a lot more amicable. In contrast, Matner could tell that the man made the wagons himself. He appeared a little younger than the first wagon merchant had been, but gray hairs peppered his thick, brown hair, suggesting years of experience. He also had a son working with him, but when Matner approached, the two were working together, each one of them holding one end of a metal bow that they were putting across the wagon. The other bows were in place, waiting for the canvas bonnet, making the wagon look like it had some sort of skeleton atop it in the meantime. Matner waited, watching them as he waited for them to be finished.

"Right then, fetch the canvas Len," the man said, wiping his hands off on his pants. "We'll have this one finished before lunch." He looked around and spotted Matner as he hopped down out of the wagon.

"Right Pa," the younger man replied, heading towards one of the other wagons.

"What can I do for you then?" The merchant smiled and came over to Matner, extending a hand. "I'm Ander. You lookin' for a wagon?"

"I am," Matner said, nodding and shaking the man's hand.

He noticed that Ander seemed to have a larger supply of wagons to choose from than the previous man had. The man gestured towards them, and Matner explained what he was looking for as they walked through the wagons so that he could see them. When he was done, Ander pointed at one of the ones they'd just moved past and nodded at it.

"That's the one you'll need. She's sturdy as an ox, but still light on her feet."

The wagon had everything needed to make merchanting easier. Ander pointed out the bent springs under the seat to make the ride more comfortable when it was bouncy. The canvas over the top could be opened or removed from the front or the rear, and there was a canopy that could extend over the seat in wet weather, or even to block the hot sun in summer. There was even, Ander showed him, a hidden box in the floor for hiding money from bandits and thieves.

Matner was impressed, and had to remind himself that he did not actually need that nice a wagon, considering he was going to have to abandon it anyway. Not that he said anythng about that, of course.

But he was prepared when Ander told him the price. It was more than just a little bit over the budget he had decided upon with Dir Ketten. He grimaced at the amount.

"I'm only just starting in all this...," Matner began.

"Not feeling up for a commitment like that, eh?" Ander asked.

"Honestly, no."

"Well, here," Ander said, "tell ya what. Take a look at this one over here." Ander led him to the back to a wagon about the same size. It did not have the nicer springs in the seat, and would not be as comfortable.

"There was a fellow in the same situation as you. Just starting off. He bought that one three years ago. He took care of it, and it took care of him. He's doing well, but it's a bigger and heavier one than he needs. He sold me that one when he bought a new one. That one you can have for half the price."

"Half..." Matner mused, counting the money in his head.

"Listen, son," Ander said, looking at Matner with a serious expression. "If you're serious about your venture, then you're going to need to invest a little in it. If you try and pull heavy goods across muddy roads without a wagon designed for the task, you're going to break your wheels regularly. And that kind of abuse also wears down the axles and the structure of the wagon bed itself. Not only is this wagon designed to level the weight better on the wheels, but these axles are thicker, and can handle more. From the sound of things, you need a workhorse of a wagon, and this one will see you through your startup phase. I built her myself, so I know she'll hold together, and I've inspected her since I took her in on trade and I know that she's still got at least five or more years left in her if she's treated right. She comes with a slightly weathered, but sound canopy, and a spare wheel. I can pretty much guarantee you won't find a sweeter deal in the market."

"Well, I..." Matner hesitated, considering it.

"And, because I know you'll be so happy with it you'll come to me for the next wagon you purchase, I'll offer to shave 10 gold off the price right here and now if we seal the deal. What do you say?" Ander smiled and held out his hand again, expectantly.

"I...alright. Y-you've got a deal," Matner blinked a little as he shook the man's hand and looked over at the wagon.

"Wonderful! Let's just head on over there and we can get the details squared away. This way."

Matner followed Ander over to a canopied area where a bored-looking kid was watching over some books and a strongbox on a table. Matner handed over the money, while Ander made some notes in his book. The money purse felt conspicuously lighter to him afterwards, making Matner briefly remember Arnish's comment about repaying the favor. He knew he had just crossed the point of no return, having spent some of the Captain's money.

He made arrangements to pick up the wagon a little later, after the horses had been arranged, and Ander gave him instructions on how to handle different aspects of the wagon itself, including how to tie the canvas canopy. Matner ended up having to cut the instructions a little short in order to meet up with Dir Ketten again, and hoped that there hadn't been anything vital he'd missed in the process. He hoped that Dir Ketten might know about enough of it too, having traveled with the caravan for so long.

This time they met in an open square near where they had been meeting prior. Parts of the area were bustling with people and noise, and parts were empty of people who had gone off for lunch already.

"There is a wide range of prices for horses, although for the most part the quality is less than I would like," Dir Ketten said.

Matner told Dir Ketten about the wagon he had found. Matner thought it a good combination of price and size, but Dir Ketten seemed concerned.

"Even if there might be problems with it," Matner pointed out, "we're just going to leave it anyway, so the cheapest one that will get everyone out of the city is fine."

"I know. What if we end up wanting to keep it after all?" Dir Ketten countered.

"Well," Matner said. "On the off chance that we get away clean and it doesn't seem like they'll pursue us at all, then we keep it. If it breaks down a week or a month down the road we worry about it then. We only need to cover a couple of weeks worth to get to Eerwayh, right?"

"And if we get there and find out we have to keep going to somewhere else?"

"I hadn't thought of that," Matner admitted. "But leaving the wagon behind for speed seems more likely than keeping it. In that case, I'd rather leave behind a cheaper one than an expensive one."

Dir Ketten had no argument for that, so they went on to discussing the kinds of goods to acquireas mock cargo. Matner suggested they could start small, since their story was that they were buying the wagon to be traveling merchants. They should focus here on what might sell well in other places. If it was anything they could use, all the better.

Matner mentioned that Dir Ketten should come and be part of the rest of the planning after lunch, once everything had been arranged. They agreed to get a quick lunch and then go get the horses. Then they would be able to pick up the wagon and bring it over to Arnish.

While they ate, Dir Ketten pulled out his notebook and pencil and pulled two sheets of the paper off the leather ties that bound it together. On each was a neatly written list that he placed in front of Matner.

"This is a list of the food supplies we will need, as well as other supplies," he said, pointing to the one list with the tip of his pencil. "That one is a list of items that would make our travels easier, if there is money left to purchase them with. That list would be purchased after the goods we will be selling are purchased. They are listed in order of priority, with the most useful ones being at the top. This afternoon we will need to gather our supplies."

Matner nodded in agreement, reading over the list. Most of the first list was food, blankets, grain for the horses, flint, and some cookware. The second list included bedrolls and saddles for all the horses.

"The more of the second list you can work into the goods you are carrying, the better," Dir Ketten added in a low voice. "But keep in mind that the more we purchase the less actual room we'll have in the wagon."

"I understand," Matner nodded. He knew it wouldn't do any good if he managed to rescue the elves from the cages, only to suffocate or crush them beneath heavy saddles and bags of food in the wagon. He thought the wagon would be big enough to hold the elves and the necessary supplies, but he wasn't sure how much they could really carry beyond that. Matner folded both lists and tucked them into his pockets, while Dir Ketten put away his notebook and pencil again.

Once they had finished eating lunch, they made their way to the merchant Dir Ketten had found for the horses. Matner disliked the man immediately. He was tall and rigid in stature, and his short black hair was greased back tight against his skull, making his face look all the more bony than it actually was. He had a large nose, which seemed crooked as if it had been broken and never healed quite right. His thin lips were held in a straight line when he wasn't speaking and his dark eyes reminded Matner of a crow, the way they darted here and there suspiciously watching everything. Matner let Dir Ketten do all the talking with the man and then just nodded and counted out the coins. The money purse again felt conspicuously lighter once he was done.

Author's Note

The six horses were a mix of colors. They were mostly grays and browns. There had been options for a set of the same color--a few merchants had pushed that option--but that was always the more expensive way to go, and an unneccessary waste. He hoped that Arnish would see it all and think everything a sensible use of his money.

They tied the horses to each other so that the two of them could guide the six over to the wagon. They moved slowly towards Ander and his wagon. They had to guide the horses carefully through the occasional crowd.

Matner wondered if maybe there were too many people living in too small a city. People and dogs and chickens and the occasional pig all packed into the same streets with horses and wagons. He knew there would be an entire population of farms surrounding the city. That was a basic requirement, just to feed everyone here. Maybe ten percent of the local crop would be sold away from locals.

Matner tried to imagine in all those farmers had to be packed into the city for a war. No, he judged, the city was just not prepared for a war anymore. He also considered what would happen once a fire was started. Fire in a crowded city was the single biggest danger and fear. Easily half of the guards patrolling streets at night would be on the lookout for fire.

He looked around when he could as they guided the horses. Most of the buildings away from the keep were wood. Some had wood shingles a few had slate ones, but there was still more thatch to be seen than slate. He realized Arnish's plan would need to be executed very careful indeed to prevent a distraction from becoming a tragedy.

Ander and his son were working together at sanding a long piece of wood as Matner approached. Len noticed him first and stopped sanding long enough to touch his father on the arm and nod in Matner's direction. Ander looked over and smiled before setting his tools down and coming to meet him, wiping his hands on his pants.

"You should be able to haul quite a bit with that lot," he said, squinting and nodding at the horses. "Looks like all you need now is something to sell eh?"

"I think I'm going to start with a few different items and see what works," Matner said, nodding back.

"You'll want to make sure you register with the Merchant's Guild as well," Ander said, gesturing that they walk towards the wagon Matner had purchased. "They charge a small fee, but then you're in the books if you come back here to sell. And it might help stop some of the questions if you're in good with the Effisk."

"Questions?" Matner asked, a cold chill running down his back. He cast a worried glance back at Dir Ketten who just frowned and shook his head.

"Weren't more than a few minutes after you left that one of Prenish's men came asking about you," Ander said, stopping and giving him a level look. "Now I didn't tell him about the holes in your story, son. I don't know why it is you're really needing the wagon, and I figure I probably don't want to know so long as it doesn't come back to bite me. But I also figure you've been to see the other wagon merchant in the keep, and I can't say the same of him. Then again he might not be clever enough to see through you."

"I...I don't think... I don't know what you mean!" Matner protested, not having to work at looking stunned by the man's admission.

"Let's just say most folk spend years working with caravan's before they attmept to start a venture of their own. Learning the trade."

"I'm not most folk," Matner replied.

"Mmm-hmmm," Ander nodded. "And I wasn't born yesterday. Prenish's man wanted to know if I knew where you got the money for the wagon. Seems you came to town somewhat penniless."

"I've acquired an investor. Someone willing to loan me the money for now and who will be getting some of my profits until I can pay him back. What's so unusual about that?" Matner remembered hearing his father talk about doing the same thing for merchants back in Calster, and for once was grateful he'd caught some of the boring dinner conversation.

"Pretty rare to find someone willing to do that for a traveling merchant, I'd say," was Ander's reply. "But, nonetheless. It's not my concern. I just thought I'd let you know you're being watched. And that registering with the Merchant's Guild might help with that. It might help if your investor signs the log with you too."

"That makes sense," Matner agreed cordially. "And I appreciate the advice...and the warning. I don't think Prenish likes me. I don't think I made the best impression with him, but then I've also had better hosts before." Ander hurmphed at that, not sounding surprised.

"So," Matner tried, "how many of the magistrates are like him? Not many, I hope."

"I don't get involved in Magistrate business," Ander said diplomatically after a moment's hesitation. Matner did not find that reassuring.

"I see," Matner said. "Thank you again for your help and your advice. We'll let you get back to your work."

"Here," Len said. "I'll help ya get hitched up. You kinda had to leave before we'd really finished explaining that part."

"I had to meet with my partner here," Matner said, nodding toward Dir Ketten. "I meant no offense. Thanks for the help."

Harnessing the horses involved a fair number of long lines and buckes. Matner came to appreciate the challenge of taking the weight of a loaded wagon and distributing it evenly between six horses. It had been a simple looking routine matter back with the the caravan, but he had never taken much time to watch how it was done. But before long everything was ready.

He said another round of thankyous and goodbyes and he and Dir Ketten climbed up into the bench seat. He gave a flick of the reigns and clicked at the horses as the crow-eyed horse merchant had instructed. The horses set off at an obedient walk, and Matner steered the wagon away.

At first, stseering the horses seemed simple enough. There was a larger aisle through the marketplace, which was more than wide enough for the wagon and a few people walking on either side. People moved to one side or the other, letting him pass almost instinctively. It occurred to him that he'd done the same himself in this market and others, stepping out of the way of wagons and horses. He couldn't tell whether driving the wagon was making people notice him more or less, although he suspected more.

He headed to the West tower first, and left the reigns with the group of young men and boys that managed the small stable just outside it. Then he and Dir Ketten made their way up to Arnish's office. Matner found himself feeling anxious about how much money had been spent. A small knot was building up in his stomach as he knocked on the office door.

"Come in," Arnish's voice called from within.

Matner opened the door and stepped inside. Somehow, he had expected the Captain to be busily working on papers at his desk, but instead the man was lounging in a chair, his feet up on the window ledge, with a thick book in his hands. Spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose and he was squinting through them, at the book when they entered. He cast a glance over and sat up, pulling the spectacles off his face and setting them in the book before laying it on a small table next to him. Then he stood up and came forward to them.

Arnish looked tired. It was in his eyes. Matner wondered what was behind it, and hoped he had not already done something to cause the captain trouble.

"Where are things now?" Arnish asked directly.

"We have the wagon and horses outside. I still need to pick up things in to appear to be wares. Other than that, we're basically ready. I was advised by one merchant to register with Merchant's Guild. He also suggested you--my investor should sign the form with me. He asked where the money came from. I told him I had an investor. Apparently Prenish has been having me followed. I hope that doesn't cause you problems."

"Prenish is only an immediate concern if he suspects what we're up to," Arnish explained. He knows that I'll irritate him if I get the chance, but he also thinks of me as both slow to act and small in scale. I doubt he would see something like this coming."

"Everything will be ready by tonight," Arnish added. "Pick up enough wares and supplies to look good at a cursory glance. Registering with the guild will make the legal aspect more difficult for you later, but will make leaving he city easier. You'll get a license you can pin up on your wagon. When the fire breaks out you'll be able to explain that you only just bought it all and have no interest in losing everything. There will be other people leaving the area. The guards will be more interested in the fire and keeping order than who comes and goes with what."

"How bad is this fire going to be?" Matner couldn't help but ask. "One look at the marketplace and it's clear that a fire could spread quickly and be very deadly."

"There are several different plans in place amongst both the guards and the merchants on what to do if a fire breaks out, depending on where it is and how bad. The idea is that several small fires will be started all at once, but in places where they can be quickly managed and contained. You'll just have to trust me when I say that the ones who will take the brunt of it are deserving of it. In fact, the main concern I have right now is the Elves themselves."

"The Elves? Why?"

"Word is spreading amongst them that there is a plan to rescue the ones in the dungeon. They don't know who all is involved, but many know when it is going to happen, partly because some of the plan involves people being in place to set the fires and to help drug the food for the dogs. A few have been suggesting that they wanted to leave too. I fear there could be rioting, and a rush for the city gates when the fires break out. Miraselle has been working to diffuse the situation, but..." He trailed off, his words heavy with his concern.

Matner paused, wondering how much of it was probably something building gradually anway. He also wondered if there was a similar sentiment elsewhere, or if maybe there was just a higher ratio of elves to humans here closer to their homeland.

It occurred to him to wonder if an elven uprising in one city could spark an open rebellion. He suspected that any kind of uprising here would be crushed by the military. Word of that would spread, and he wondered what affect that would have.

Maybe it was inevitable--maybe it was due, he thought. Would people in general be easily persuaded en masse to set the elves free? Or were people too entrenched in what by now was just a part of everyday life?

"If a bunch of them try to escape, even if they make it through the gates, they'll just get hunted down," Matner suggested. "What do we do to lessen the impact?"

"We're already working on that," Arnish answered. "So far the main reasoning we're using is that this will spread the seed for the idea, but still allow time to plan and prepare. A mass escape attempt will only make things harder, not easier."

"Regardless of what happens," Arnish continued, "even what we are planning will make them tighten their hold on the elves around here for a while. Fortunately, Elves in servitude are considered part of a person's wealth. Even the Lord Commander will not want to compensate too many people for making their Elves stand as examples to the rest through their deaths. If he did so, he would not remain in his position for long."

"How many do you think will listen to reason though?" Matner asked. He frowned, thinking of Elves fleeing alone and without supplies. "How can we help those that do?"

"Even if they do manage to find you, Matner, be wary of helping every Elf that tries to escape. Hunger and fatigue will wear at the best of men, and you will be hard-pressed for supplies as it is. Who knows how far you may have to go before you find somewhere they can live safely. You may have to cross the borders out of New Callest."

"The more there are, the harder it will be to conceal as well," Dir Ketten said quietly from behind Matner. He had almost forgotten that the Nomad was there.

"I'm sorry, this is Dir Ketten, the friend I spoke of," Matner said hurriedly, stepping to one side so the Captain could see him better. "Ketten, this is Sir Arnish."

Authors' Note

The intention is that I'll post when I get home, and she when she gets home later. But I've also got a to-do list for the weekend, which is rapidly getting shorter. The weekend--not the list. :-)

Authors' Note (II)

"Good to meet you," Arnish said pleasantly, offering a hand, which Dir Ketten shook.

"But plans are in motion, nonetheless," Arnish continued, his face losing some of the pleasant smile he had taken on for greeting Ketten. "I'll give word to begin. Once I do that, there is no turning back. Are you ready to do this?"

"I am," Matner said, not needing to pause and think further. He turned to Dir Ketten, realizing he should not speak for both of them in such a matter. "You?"

The nomad merely nodded gravely. Matner wondered if he and the nomad would share similar or different fates if they were caught. He suspected the foreigner might have fewer rights. He felt a moment of guilt for dragging the man into this with him, but he suspected that neither of them had been given much choice. He wondered what the odd oracle man had told Dir Ketten. The man had mentioned the nomad to him, hadn't he? Matner could not remember just then. It would come to him later, he decided.

"Go to the Merchant's Guild and register," Arnish instructed, turning towards the window. "Avoid using my name if you can. If you must, explain no more than that I offered you a loan because we both attended the academy. Enough consider me sentimental to accept that."

"Gather the rest of your supplies, and then eat dinner together in the main hall. Be back here before sunset. It's going to be a very long night."

"Yes, sir," Matner replied.

It was clear that Arnish was not going to say more, so Matner turned and left the office, Dir Ketten falling into step just behind him. They were both silent as they made their way back out of the tower, and Matner mentally counted out how many they were going to need to feed, as well as how much grain he thought they might need for the horses. He tried, also, to think about the types of items the people who'd settled further west would want to buy, especially items that were actually edible or would be useful.

Hopefully one or more of the elves will be capable of sewing, he thought to himself. Then blankets, clothes, and bags could be made with the right fabrics. I'll get some canvas, some wool, and cotton. He realized he'd need to attempt to purchase higher quality fabrics in order to make it look like he was going to sell them later on. He then reminded himself of Dir Ketten's lists. The plan was to buy the food and supplies first, but most of those only accounted for maybe six men, and that assumed that Matner would say he was going to hire men to guard the wagon later on.

They went next to the SouthEast tower, where the merchant's guild was housed. No one stopped him as he made his way past the guards posted outside the tower entrance, but a skinny, pimpled young man stopped them at a small desk shortly into the hallway. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"What's your business here?" he asked, in a voice that was breaking a little.

"We're here to register with the Merchant's Guild," Matner told him.

"Upstairs, first door on your left," he said, turning and pulling on a small rope behind him. "Take a seat in the room and someone will come and call you in."

"Thank you," Matner replied, with a smile.

Somewhere in the distance, Matner could hear a small bell ringing as they ascended the stairs. The room they went into was lined with benches and had heavy tapestries hanging on the walls, depicting scenes of people doing trade with merchants, or items that were worth a lot of money when used in trade.

They took a seat on one of the benches and waited until a young girl, several years younger than Matner, came into the room. She was dressed in a pale blue dress with a crisp white apron over it and she curtsied when she entered.

"The Magistrate will see you now," she told them. "This way please."

She led them through the one other door in the room, into a short hallway that led to a large office. Based on what people had told him of Effisk, Matner had expected a tall, skinny, hooked-nosed kind of man, almost akin to a vulture. So when the Magistrate turned to meet them, Matner was caught off guard by the man's warm smile and slightly-tanned face. His handshake was firm and his build and calloused hands suggested that the Magistrate was no stranger to phyiscal labor.

"Welcome! I'm Magistrate Effisk. Who might you be and how can I help you today?"

"Well, I'm Matner Syris Tibrum the Third," Matner started, trying not to sound pompous, but also thinking that the longer name would sound more qualified to be a merchant. "I'm getting myself ready to travel as a merchant, and it was suggested I stop here and register with you. I'd prefer to do this properly."

"Wonderful," Effisk said. "What did you plan to sell?"

"Mostly I'll be traveling. I'm not really one to set up shop and stay in one place. I already bought the wagon and horses. I've been expecting to make runs from city to city importing goods. Fabrics from one area, wines from another...a lot of variety, I expect."

"And just what kind of experience do you have?"

"I left New Callest with a caravan, which isn't that much, I know. I trained at the Royal Academy there, so I know how to defend a