A careful rap on the door turned Ewan from his continued coaxing of Avery to get out of bed. The boy finally went shoulder slumped and sleepy eyed to the necessary room. Storm was in the kitchen preparing the day?s meal, something better left to her capable hands, and Ewan called that he would see who was at the door.

The dagger drawn from the belt by the door, he held it in the hand kept behind the door as he opened it with caution. Early morning visitors were the exception, not the rule. Snatches of thought ticked along in his mind of what it might be. The tension in his arm prepared to strike, but the door revealed one of the guards of the warehouse along with a message. Not waiting for a reply, the guard bowed his head with the sharp snap of a practiced man of the shield and sword and walked away.

Clicking the door shut, the locks doing their duty in harmony with the granted gifts of Storm?s protections, Ewan sheathed the dagger again and opened the letter. A swift reading was followed by a slower combined with the thoughtful steps towards the kitchen. ?Plans have changed, beloved.? He spoke to Storm and held up the letter. ?Are you able to take Avery to school??

Her questioning look was answered when he handed over the letter. She answered that she could and gave him the letter back. A kiss to her cheek, he prepared for the twist to his day. Hidden blades, he left behind one of the anelaces, but kept the one Sid had gifted to him this time strapped to his hip in counter balance to a set of daggers.

The walk to the warehouse was not made in haste, and he stopped by the Willow?s Den to claim Jordith for any magical analysis, not willing to wake Pei at this hour. Jordith was known to keep early morning hours as easily as the birds of spring, though she was not spring bird herself any longer. Age spotted hands, grey-silver hair, and the stoop of shoulders long tired of the burden of being straight, she claimed to be nigh on eighty years, but Pei had told Ewan long ago the woman was more than twice that.

?Come on, lad,? Jordith?s voice crackled like a kite with holes, wind rustling the paper. ?The lolly-gagging won?t save them money.?

Ewan was two steps ahead of her, but he had been keeping to a slower pace for her benefit. That she was chastising him for it brought up a smile, but he did not speed up. They arrived at the warehouse in due time. The early morning working kept free of the equipment and what could be done by the brawn of the men. Slower, less efficient, but it kept things going, albeit a snail?s pace.

There was no introduction made or announcement of his arrival. Each piece of equipment he examined for the tell tale signs of weaknesses wrought by time or by assistance of a human hand. Jordith muttered a mumbled over her work, though Ewan was certain there were no cantrips being employed. It was merely her way. They worked in a thoughtless and unspoken rhythm. Age adapted Jordith to Ewan, and his chameleon nature adapted Ewan to her. What she could not reach he brought to her, and at the end of several hours. Ewan eyed Jordith for her conclusion.

She shook her head, ?Bring me in a smith or master of machinations to do a secondary survey. You get on with your business. I will speak with Masters Bransson or Fraiser when we are done.?

?Very well,? Ewan nodded and left the warehouse. The matter that irked him most was now his primary service. He dropped into the fitting rage that swelled up like a gale at sea. Kayle had been vetted by him as all who came to the proximity and employ of Yransea here in Rhydin. A possibility of either neglect or sabotage ate at him like a canker.

The swelling heat of a trusted smithy, the dawn a fitting hour for their hot, laborious work, beat at him as he entered and made the courteous if abrupt request, paying for the endeavor up front as boon to the special treatment. The smith and his assistant were more than willing to oblige and set to finishing their current work.

A bitter brew of anger at himself for failing in some manner turned his mouth down as he kept moving north and stopped by the Port South holding house, that which was closest to Kayle?s home. It was here he would start the investigation and the call for news of the man before he went on to Yearling Brook and spoke with the Baroness. There would be words shared there, of that he had no doubt.

Ewan did not knock nor wait to be announced, but walked in and stood opposite the raven haired woman at the desk. "Interesting news this morning."

A quirked brow, she smirked at his casual opening. Trust it to Ewan for the obtuse viewpoint. "Yes, so it is. Did you already visit the warehouse?"

The wreck of a smile, half there and half absent, countered her smirk. "I have, and left Jordith with some smiths to finish the work. I expect I will have an accurate assessment of the equipment by afternoon."

Sylvia's fingers traced over the letter she had written. The concerns of the warehouse being seen to, the matter most to hand was Kayle's behavior and the cause to it. She stared at Ewan, but was not really seeing him. Her eyes were focused to internal images and courses of action. To break free of the cycle, she tapped fingertips on top of the paper, and spoke her thoughts. "What is done is done at the warehouse. Let the repairs be done and get us back to our dealings as soon as can be. There is Kayle."

Accustomed to her silences, he held his own until she spoke. "Aye, I have started some quiet questions into his whereabouts."

"What do you know of him?" she asked with an abrupt tone. To set the beginning before chasing the middle, she needed to know what he knew.

"I looked into his life -- twice. The second," he explained, "when it was suggested he become the assistant. A family man, hard worker, no unusual vices. A penchant for some gambling, but a man who paid his debts. The family looked well cared for and there were no complaints from stores where they dealt or neighbors. When I shadowed him the few nights, he had a reasonable routine."

It had been a reasonable routine. The man would wake early to get to his work, at night he would have dinner with his family and spend time with his children, and then take an hour or two at a nearby pub to share drinks with friends and a game or two of chance. Ewan could not fault the man for that. There were darker vices than a light touch of gambling to weight concern. He never noticed such risks at the job or with other matters of his life. Kayle had seemed as run of the mill as one could get. Ewan had traveled those memories over and over on the walk to Yearling Brook. There had been nothing to indicate this strange new behavior.

"I should have kept an eye on things there." Ewan spoke to the blame and took with without hesitation.

"Don't be ridiculous," Sylvia snapped and waved off the comment. "You are not their keeper nor their parent. There were two managers left to the seeing of that warehouse. Two men trusted to the livelihood of the businesses and the people there. You had done your job, and if they had done theirs this might have been prevented."

Ewan found her judgment surprising, but kept his surprise from being revealed by feature or voice. In his words were the solemn questions of the man set to see to his duty. The tiny thrill that she was not so enthralled with Master Fraiser as to relieve him of fault was beneath Ewan, and he recoiled inside at that bit of giddy pleasure. "They had trust in the man, and with my word to do so, some of the guilt is mine."

"People change, Ewan. You cannot track those changes every moment of your life." The conversation was dawdling away from the point at hand. "Two months they waited with his erratic behavior. That is not acceptable. I feel Captain Caisson will bear me out on that point. And the point now is to find Kayle and learn the real reasons for it. That he will have lost his position I believe goes without saying."

"The warehouse to be short staffed then. It is a bad season for it with trade at its peak. Most able hands are hired on."

"Yes, too well I know it. I might call in a favor of a dear friend. Antonio Falconne is a master of trade, and from all I know, a very successful one. I will see what aid he may be able to render for a short time."

Ewan agreed with a briefest nod. It was a reasonable move, though he had his concerns about bringing in competition to their own warehouses. "I will want to investigate any he offers. Are you sure you want them in seeing to our work?"

It was the second day since the accident, and motion in the warehouse was settling to a new rhythm. Slower, without the use of the equipment that had been claimed by the investigators or deemed unsuitable for use. It took more men to do the same amount of work, six to a task that would have taken three. Since they didn?t have more men available yet, jobs were moving slowly ? but at least they had received permission from the investigators to clear away the wreckage. Hudson was on the floor, speaking with the current shift foreman; Rhys was in his office with the accountant, reviewing the records of trade over the past year.

Sylvia had used the time of the ride into town to review the situation as it stood so far. The horse had been kept to a leisurely pace. Her hands were firm, but not gripping the reins, and she read her own demeanor in that of the three year old. As long as it was calm, she knew she was projecting the same manner.

Even the bustling effects of the warehouse district did not disturb her or the animal, no matter how much the chaos echoed her own busy thoughts. So, when she drew up at the Yransea warehouse, she hesitated. Hands folded one over the other, she watched as the crew compensated for the lack of equipment. She read their expressions, tried to perceive their looks and feelings in their voices. That was until one of them noticed her. She waved off his gesture to take the reins. "I have it in hand. Thank you." She dismounted, tethered the horse, and walked inside. The sharp gaze took it all in, one hand loose at her sides, the other upon the hilt of the dagger belted on her hip. It was her relaxed pose. All tension coiled up inside her, she reviewed the area with a discerning eye.

There was still tension in the air of the warehouse; Kayle?s disappearance and the state of the equipment had started conflicting rumors spreading like wildfire. Some swore it was sabotage against Yransea, some a mere accident, some that for an unknown purpose Rhys and Hudson had set up Kayle to take the fall. Some even thought that it was a plot by the leaders of Yransea to keep from paying their workers. Still, the crews worked together much as they always had under the stern eye of the shift foreman.

At the almost palpable wave of apprehension that rippled through the workers when they noticed the Baroness, Hudson broke off his conversation with the foreman to look at the door. Since the accident he had barely paused to snatch food and a shower or a few hours of sleep, and it was starting to show in a haggard appearance. Upstairs, Rhys looked much the same. After a moment, Hudson spoke a final few words to the foreman, and then walked across to Sylvia.

?Baroness. Ye come tae see for yerself th? state o? things, then, and tae speak wi? myself and Rhys.? It was statement rather than question, acknowledgement that this visit had been fully expected, though not the exact time of it. ?Would ye like come up tae th? offices??

Hudson's appearance did little to reassure her things were back in hand. Her jaw clenched, but she gave a curt nod and as curt a reply. "Yes," and she started towards the offices without a further word in the presence of the workers. She felt their eyes, even some few glares that did not penetrate the thick skin she had grown over many years. Eyes and thoughts could do no harm, but action or inaction could. She did not look back as she took the stairs and walked in the office. "Master Bransson," she spoke with a serenity that antagonized the tensions in the air.

The accountant and Rhys had both stood when Sylvia entered the room. At the serene greeting, the accountant scuttled out, leaving the books behind. Hudson shut the door and Rhys moved from his seat behind the desk to offer it to the Baroness. ?My Lady. Where would you like to begin?? The voice of the grizzled man was rough, though he kept his composure well. Hudson took a stance next to Rhys, so that the two of them faced her squarely. Despite differences in build and coloring, in their motion the two looked remarkably alike ? prepared to give a full accounting and to take her judgment without hesitation.

She looked from one to the other, her expression never changed and it was an unreadable mask. There was no sitting, though the office did not lack for seats. "I have been informed of the state of the equipment, and I see for myself that the required work continues, so let us begin with the two months." The last words came out like a sudden cold northern breeze out of a sunny day. "I am interested to learn what justified the continued lackadaisical attitude of a staff member trusted with the workings and runnings of this warehouse for two months. Not a word to me or to Captain Caisson, whom I received letter from his office today that he is on a week's journey. The matter then is before me."

Sitting quietly at his desk, Antonio plowed through the day?s correspondence. Letters piled to moderate depth on the tray his assistant had dropped off some twenty minutes earlier, all clamored for his attention.

?Garbage. Garbage. Bill. Garbage. Junk. Bill. Money. Letter. Money. Le?whoops! What is this??

He turned the heavy letter over in his hands, and looked at the unbroken green wax seal. A smile spread across his lips as he recognized the device impressed upon it. ?Well, hello, good Sylvia. To what do I owe the honor of a letter??

He cracked the wax seal deftly, and unfolded the parchment. His eyes scanned rapidly over the formally phrased missive, and he noted the occasional change from cursive to printed letters with a small grin. When he finished, he placed the letter carefully in the center of his desk, and leaned back in his chair. He stretched for a few moments, then closed his eyes, and mentally tallyed the orders coming in through his many and varied business concerns.

Antonio reached behind him, and pulled twice on a green-velvet encased bell-rope. The remaining letters were pushed off to one side, and he reached for a clean sheet of parchment. He dipped the nib of a quill pen into a bottle of ink, and started to write ? the letters small but crisp as they flowed from his pen.


Unto the honorable Sylvia Nightshade,
By the Grace of the Gods, Baroness Yransea,
Does Antonio, former Conte de Falconne,
Send Warmest Greetings!

Dear cousin, my pleasure at receiving your missive wanes to hear tell of your current situation. I grieve at your losses in your business interests, and shall do whatever I can with the assets I have to help alleviate your situation.

Hence, as soon as they can be made ready, I will immediately dispatch...


He looked up, and bellowed. ?Malvolio! Where in Hades are you? Must I ring?" He stopped and chuckled as the door finally opened. His old foreman entered the room out of breath, and stopped to wipe his sweaty brow with a surprisingly fine linen handkerchief.

?Forgive me, Antonio ? I was overseeing the deployment of the most recent shipment of silk ? you are doing admirably well at selling it??

He raised a hand, and the man stopped speaking. ?Short notice, old friend. How many completely trustworthy men do we have in warehousing now??

The man raised one brow slightly, and paused to think before answering ?Two-hundred fifty all told, in all concerns. Of those, perhaps one-hundred twenty are cleared to handle everything.?

Antonio nodded. ?Mal ? prepare thirty of the men, with full work gear. We will be assisting a dear friend who needs help. And Mal ? no slip ups are allowed ? you lead them in their duties yourself, please.?

?I will be honored, Antonio. And you will be pleased with our deportment. Where are we going?

?To the Yransean warehouses on the western side of Rhydin ? you know the ones over the bridges not far from the Red Dragon Inn? Good. Make everything ready as swiftly as you can.?

He returned to the letter before the older man had even cleared the door, and dipped his pen once again in the inkwell.


?thirty good men and true. They will come prepared to work, for as long as you should have need of them. Should this not be sufficient, you have only to ask, and I will increase the deployment.

Please accept my fondest best wishes for your continued health, and success.

I remain, cousin, ever at your service.

Antonio


With a nod, he folded the parchment precisely. He pulled on the rope a single time, then reached for a small brass ladle, and filled it with wax pellets. Held over a nearby candle flame, the red wax sizzled and oozed in short order. He poured the liquid wax over the seam of the parchment packet, and then pressed his signet ring into the puddle.

Antonio ran his fingers through his hair, reclined in his chair and waited patiently for the courier to arrive, to speed the letter on its way.

Sylvia had anticipated Gaerwyn would seek her out once he returned to read the report himself. So, it was not surprising when Corwyn announced the merchant mariner's arrival in the hazy afternoon. She had retreated to her solarium while the children napped or were attending lessons, though the heat of the day was having its own way with the comfort of the room setting it to an edge of cloying.

Gaerwyn felt the warmth around him like the tropics that were next on his schedule of trade. A bow to the Baroness, he waited to be spoken to first, but did not hesitate to review how she was looking in light of the coming weeks. He, too, had not forgotten those long stretches of months a year ago. The world was topsy turvey, a condition he did not favor one bit. It seemed this time of year was prone to such events.

Sylvia smiled and nodded at the formal greeting. "Good day, Captain Caisson. I am glad to see you well and returned. I trust the trade was profitable?"

"Yes," he gave a sharp nod of his head, "and good that it was from what I read upon my return." It was a sour taste to his mouth the implications he read in the report.

"Let us find a more comfortable place to sit. This room is well and good for the plants or a snooze," she grinned, "but not talk of unpleasant matters. The study I think best." She knew Keefe was not there at the time, and it gave her a steady feeling when she sat behind the desk.

As they walked the hallways, their conversation was light and spoke to family, the health of both, and the future gatherings that would happen. Neither spoke of Beata's birthday a little over a month away. It was a silent pact not to open that door just yet.

When they arrived in the cooler, windowless room of the study, Sylvia motioned for Gaerwyn to take one of the two seats opposite the desk as she moved for the one behind. It was a business matter they discussed, and such matters did best when kept to the formalities.

"I have been told, before I left Rhydin, that the expenses and delay will not be as great as the initial report stated. However, we have been added by Comte Antonio Falconne, a friend of mine, with some additional hands while the equipment is to be replaced."

Gaerwyn gave a nod. The man was not well known to him, but he knew of him through Lenika. "I shall have to return the favor at some time." Gaerwyn did not let the comment have a chance to be rebuffed, but continued to his point. "Ewan, I trust, is looking into the matter further then?"

"Yes," she gave a sharp nod, "and I expect some letter of news within the next day, as nothing was received from that quarter in this day's collection of messages." The comfort of the chair urged her to sit back and relax in it, and so she did as she considered the man across from her. It was more for his sake than hers that this matter was dealt with thoroughly. The barony's holdings in Rhydin, the trade there, was a small token, as most of their commodities were brought and shipped by private merchants such as Gaerwyn. But he needed to keep the business prosperous and maintain a reputation or it could all crash down. The word spread like a plague until he had nothing left. The stakes were too high to leave the matter incomplete.

Gaerwyn frowned. It was the frown of thought not disappointment or of being discouraged. There were still things to be done by his way of thinking, and if he were to trust anyone to them, it was his cousin by far and away of those he knew. "Should I make a trip to Rhydin?"

"Does your schedule permit it?"

"No more than it would if I took that position with the guild you keep urging me to take. I was, in truth, considering it of late, but now with this," his hand held up the letter as if it encompassed the entirety of the troubles, "I cannot afford to take on another captain for my routes."

"It may be not so long as that." She tried to reassure him and supplemented the words with a smile. "I am glad you were considering the position. I think in light of the recent agreements and the regard you carry with other merchants it would do a good service to everyone, including you."

Gaerwyn scoffed though had the forethought at least to keep it less robust than he might have in any other's presence. "This has done that in and made the decision for me, though. It is best I did not mention it yet to Lenika or the children. It would have hurt to see their disappointment." Not that his was that well hidden either with the blue eyes with less luster.

A slow breath and a nod, she knew too well what he meant. "Let us not discount it out of hand as yet, but I will be sure to send you word of what I learn, though no doubt Ewan will inform us both at the same time. I do not see the benefit of you visiting as yet, unless you feel the need to share words with the managers of the warehouse."

Gaerwyn shook his head. "No, that moment is passed, and I am sure you did what needed to be done." He rose from the seat and gave another bow. "If there is nothing further."

She stood to match him and smiled. "No, nothing further." It was hard to leave the chair, as if fingers touched light upon her arms and bade her stay. To keep from succumbing to the temptation, she walked Gaerwyn from the study and back down the corridors. "Give my best to your family, Gaerwyn, and safe travels to you on your next voyage."

"Thank you, Your Excellency. I wish you and yours well." He continued without her company from the manor and on to home. He hoped between the two places he could regain the smile for his children and a hopeful nonchalance for Lenika when he told her what happened. He would not keep the warehouse accident from her, but he could at least give her the information with a less gloomy air. He could try.

The dining club was the upper-crust sort with its fine wood paneling, modestly dressed servants who only performed immodest acts with a high price and a heavy curtained room to protect them. Merchants paid their dues for this opulent getaway and for the privacy it afforded. The fine linens and heavy scents of mouthwatering meals carried up and through its hallways where doors to private dining rooms were kept closed.

Ewan had slicked his hair dyed black back into a well appointed tail where the curls flipped in perfect unison to his fine tailored attire of rich blue doublet, tastefully adorned with fine hand-stitched embroidery upon cuffs and collar. Small instruments of protection concealed in the excessive treatment of the material in the slashed sleeves fashion. So too the leather pants were cut to just his specifications, allowing hidden weapons to have their own space among the fancies that showed most importantly that he was a man of prosperous business interests.

?Sir Hawthorne?? the simpering owner of the Thorn and Bud, tied cravat in perfect place around the slender man?s throat. ?I beg pardon of the delay to your dining room. It was not up to the standards we here at The Thorn and Bud demand, and our most honorable customers, such as yourself, expect.?

Ewan, in his current persona known as Sir Michael Hawthorne, made a slow survey of the foyer as if each plant frond might offend him at any moment. ?I had been informed by my friend this was a worthy establishment, but perhaps he was quite mistaken. I should hate to have a quarrel with Lord Montebastian. Is it possible there is another Thorn and Bud in this miserable town??

The man?s skin went from red to pale and back again in such a rapid succession that Ewan thought he might explode or faint dead away at any moment. Either might be rather amusing and certainly convenient. ?No, I assure you, sir, that this is The Thorn and Bud, and we will have your room prepared promptly.?

?Hmpf,? Ewan drew out a small snuff box and pinched an amount free to inhale. It was a harmless concoction mixed up at Willow?s Den for such a ruse. With a twitch to his nose, he let ice slick his voice, ?Be sure you do.?

But not too soon. Ewan looked to the time piece on the wall. His prey was due to arrive at any time. It would be a simpler thing to meet him in the foyer with the dramatic story of his treatment, though not imperative. However, Ewan often favored simple in such matters.

It was, then, much to his uncanny luck that the door opened again for the next gentleman of the club. Just as described, the man wore garments much in the style of Ewan?s, well cut and suited to his build that tended to the more portly side. A well treated paunch was barely concealed in the contrivances of belting and suitable seams, but the embroidery was fine. The beard and mustache had touches of grey along the corners of his mouth at temples just as the sliver of grey showed in the brown of the man?s shoulder length hair. The sharp features were dulled by the facial hair but nothing could conceal the cunning of the black eyes.

And the guess of this new man was confirmed by the owner. ?Master Georg Lyle, how good to see you. Of course we will see you straight in to your room.?

?What?s this?? Ewan sputtered. ?I have been waiting here for some time for a suitable, as you say, room. I do not doubt,? he bowed to Lyle, ?you have your reservation, good sir, but I must protest. If this is the service common to this city, I shall certainly be directing my trade elsewhere.?

?Sir Hawthorne, I assure you that your room will be ready soon. It was a mere moments remedy.?

Lyle turned those eyes on Ewan. There was curiosity there just as Ewan hoped would happen with the hints tossed around and the owner was unwittingly playing his part very well indeed. The greedy entrepreneurs of such establishments were easy to manipulate with the right set of circumstances that Ewan had been sure to dictate. ?Trade you have sir??

?Indeed I have, sir. I had been convinced by a dear friend of mine to invest here, but I have yet to have a pleasant time of it, and I dare say not worth more of my efforts.? It was a bit too sharp, the wire cut too fine and it would snap into a dangerous requirement of back-tredding.

?A shame that is, sir, but this land is not for everyone. I wish you better luck in your other endeavors.? Lyle smiled and walked past.

Not to easily played was this man, and Ewan twisted his attitude around. A chortle of nonchalance, ?Do not fear, sir, you will have no competition from me for your no doubt admirable though simple business affairs.

Lyle did not rise to that bait and continued on. It was not going as Ewan had hoped, but there was one last ploy in his hand, and he sighed with a turn for the door. ?I will have to see about that Jessum fellow. His contacts are not as estimable as I had hoped.?

?Yes, well, as I was saying,? Georg continued as he relished the first bite of his third slice of cake, ?one must be cautious of new merchants, particularly ones that do not understand the delicacies of far reaching trade across worlds. This place has a nature that cannot be undermined by those of more noble sensibilities.?

As the cake was consumed, not a dot of icing missed, Ewan discovered with great amusement, Georg?s vice: sweets. At the realization, his smile of delight hidden in an understanding simper, he pulled the serving rope. ?I quite agree. Those are quite insidious establishments and only can upset the natural course of things.?

?Right you are!? Georg grinned and then looked surprised at the arrival of the servant.

Ewan smiled to the servant, ?A bottle of the Verasio Port and a plate of petit fours.? The servant nodded and turned to do the bidding. Ewan turned back to Georg with all interest. ?And you say you have had a problem with this recently? Should it be of my concern before I establish too much of my interests here??

?No, my friend,? how quickly they had made it to that level, Ewan could only smirk as Georg went on, ?I have it all well in hand. The debtor has done his part, though I swear he could have been a bit more subtle about it, but fortunately it was only a scattering effect. If it had not been for that damnable foreigner, I would not have to spend up my second plan. Ah, what a treat, my thanks, Michael,? the man looked as giddy as a child with the arrival of the dessert wine and small cakes stacked in an expert arrangement. Without a hesitating hand, Georg snatched one of the treats and nibbled upon it.

Ewan poured out the glasses of port, and took his up, lifting it to his lips, but did not drink. ?Is not everyone a foreigner?? He chuckled.

A sputtering of laughter, ?Oh, I suppose most are yes, but this one is quite the thorn in my side. I have learned to avoid Falconne mostly, and I recommend you do the same, but he did come to spoil my plans in this case. Another of those upstanding sorts, they are rather like the plague, but his is one that will learn its lesson as well. Even so, he cannot help with what will come next, and then my favor will be done and trade avenues as never dreamed before open to me.? He raised his glass of port to toast. ?To favors done and business booming!?

Ewan lifted his glass and smiled, ?Favors and business!? It was a sip taken and nothing near the great gulp taken by Georg that was followed promptly by another sweet. It was a night that only opened further avenues to explore, but it was unlikely, even plying the man with sweets, that Ewan would get more out of him without great suspicion.

Something else was coming to face Yransea trade and perhaps Falconne as well. Ewan closed out the evening by paying more than his half share of the meal for the man?s courtesy. Exchanges of niceties done, Ewan reviewed the night and went into the Tunnels to set the mark upon Georg Lyle. His interests had now become Ewan?s ? in their entirety.

It was not the best arrangement of a room. The hall had no windows, and if he had the directions correct in his head, if the room had a window it opened out to the busy side street which meant trouble in escaping. He needed a distraction, and he did give a grin as he thought of just the distraction that might do. Shuffling his way back out front, he went searching for the madame and start his own tirade. "Ma'am, if you want me to fix them pipes, you gotta tell them blackguards to give way to the room next door? I don't got them sensory perceptions what can figure out a pipes workings through a wall, you hear?"

Again Hudson let his gaze slide over Ewan just as the other men?s did, although the mention of the guarded room brought a moment of insight as to the other?s possible purpose here. The guard who was currently waiting impatiently for drinks glared at Ewan; the madame turned from simpering at Hudson to deal with the supposed workman. And while the guard and the madame were distracted, Hudson snagged another bottle of the whisky and slipped down the hallway.

A splash of the whisky from the fresh bottle combined with a wavering stagger and lean against the wall were enough to give the impression of complete drunkenness. He could just see the men playing cards look at him, and then away with disgust. When another man poked his head out of the room that had to be where Kayle was hiding, Hudson gave a deliberately bleary smile and slumped further down against the wall. Again there was a look of utter disgust before the door slammed shut. The brief glimpse inside was enough to radically change Hudson?s thoughts about Kayle?s presence here. He hadn?t taken the word ?guards? seriously enough ? there were three left in the room, and Kayle looked very miserable indeed.

"I'm telling ya what the truth o the matter is, and if you can't see your way clear, I'll be calling it a day for myself and you can be having the flooding all over this damn building." The woman slapped Ewan for his audacity to slander her establishment, the guard got involved and Ewan allowed himself to be taken up by the scruff of the neck and hauled along the hallway with the guard grumbling to his companions that they couldn't afford to have trouble come to the house just yet.

Ewan saw Hudson looking drunk, but when he caught the man's eye, he saw the pupils were clear as a sober man's. He gave a slight kick, "Look here, got drunkards lying about in the hallways and you say I'm a problem? I came here to get a job done!" Not the job they were expecting, and to be thrown into the room with Kayle was just what he wanted. He took the roll of the throw on the shoulder and smacked his hand more than his head against the wall. Three men in the room was a suitable situation if it came to it, but the less scuffle he made the better. At least now he had some time to think over matters with Kayle in his sights. The man had taken as little notice of him as others.

Rolling with the kick, Hudson had staggered upright. When the guard who had been looking for a drink turned away, he winked quickly at the madame. She stifled another drunken giggle and turned back to the front room with the guard. Using the stagger as an excuse, he stumbled forward as the door to the room closed, half-falling into the room. The guard who had been closing the door jumped back with an exclamation. Hudson staggered back and leaned against the heavy wood of the door, pushing it shut again. He was blocking the handle now. Affecting a hiccup, he let the Scots burr roll heavy through his voice. ?And here I was waiting tae meet a man who?s already been at having his fun!?

Kayle looked up sharply at the sound of Hudson?s voice, looking right past Ewan with startled surprise. If he hadn?t noticed the ?workman?s? disguise already, there was no chance that he would now. The guards left in the room had their attention firmly fixed on Hudson, and fortunately had not ? yet ? noticed Kayle?s reaction. Well. Now he was in the lion?s den, right and proper. The question would be getting out of it; at least now, with any luck, the numbers in the room should be equal.

If Ewan could have cursed he would have and the Scotsman would have been singed if words were branding irons. But things being what they were, it was time to cast the charade out of its infancy. Ewan drew his shoulders up about him, grumbling about the poor treatment and other such nonsense as to not draw the attention of the guards from the drunken Scot. He moved around behind the guards and Kayle, a scuff of his boot and he snapped at Hudson. "Your sort's all the same. Hard workers like me get abused while sailor rot like you fall around half in your cups and half up a woman's skirts. Or is it men you fancy, eh? That why ya come in here?"

He could only hope one way or the other, Hudson would get angry, either at him or in the part he was playing, but he needed to stir the guards into guarding up the Scotsman while he kept up close to one.

Turning a flash of sudden and very ill-timed amusement into a mocking bark of laughter, Hudson made an extremely rude gesture. Affecting the sudden and violent anger of the very drunk, he lunged forward toward the disguised Ewan and was rudely shoved back by the guards. One of them spoke with biting impatience as the other two tried to bodily force the Scotsman to the door. ?Look, pal, you need to get out of here. Take your bottle and go find one of the whores.?

?Och, aye, and just tae leave th? insult there! Take yer hands off me, ye sgliac?mach macgobhars!*? The insults sounded vile in Gaelic, despite the unlikelihood that any of those in the room would understand them. Planting his heels, he shrugged away the grasping hands of the guards, only to have his shoulders grabbed again. Black eyes were lit with what perhaps one other person might recognize as laughter; to most it would appear as if he were furious.


It was just what Ewan needed. He slipped up behind the guard unaccompanied and laced his fingers together, with a twist inward, the bones of his wrists pressed firm against the man's throat, cutting off the blood to his brain within a few seconds, the man slumped to the ground unconscious. It took Ewan in less time than the man fell to take up the next guard in a similar fashion. But his companion guard was not so slow as to miss the sudden change of being alone in pressing against the Scotsman, and Ewan had to think of how he would deal with the man as he forced the second guard unconscious. As he did so, he glared back at Kayle to start moving from where he was, dumbstruck. It was no guessing he had been soundly abused just by the look of him, but Ewan had too many uncertain elements he was juggling, not the least of which was Hudson who, while serving a good purpose at the moment, was going to be something of a challenge on the way out.

The third guard was distracted by the sudden absence of his companion, and looked around with another exclamation. Apparently he suddenly counted the drunk-seeming Hudson as the lesser distraction, because the guard loosened his grip on his shoulder. His right shoulder ? and Hudson was left-handed. While Ewan glared at Kayle and Kayle struggled to get to his feet, Hudson delivered a very solid blow to the guard?s diaphragm, followed by one that broke the man?s nose. Lacking air to breathe and choking on the blood that cascaded down the back of his throat, the guard passed out next to his companions.

Shaking his hand a bit, Hudson looked from Ewan to Kayle and spoke quietly to the latter. ?Be ye too much harmed to walk, lad? For I?m thinking we?ve nae time tae waste on th? way out o? here, despite th? madame wishing me well.?

"And let us both hope no one else has taken careful note of your face," Ewan scowled. "Take care of him." Ewan was not about to argue with who was in charge here and gave Hudson the directive to help Kayle without missing a beat. He reached down to take one of the guard?s short blades and stabbed it through the shirt at the shoulder near the neck pinning the bloodied man to the floor. Out of his boot, Ewan drew a slender throwing knife, it fit in his palm, and he cupped his hand, the thumb holding it in place. As he began his shuffle out, the person of the fighter was once more cloaked in that of the workman.

The absent guard who had gone to get the drinks was still a concern, but the back door was not far. He took up a post at the corner and motioned Hudson to follow with a whisper as the man passed. ?Left out the back" The unspoken look of a future, unpleasant conversation did not linger as he turned his eyes to his watch, and hoped the guard had not heard the ruckus and gotten curious.

*slippery dog-faced sons of goats

Shutting the door behind them, Hudson took in the solid thunk of its closing and the abrupt decrease in noise from outside the office which could be heard. The sudden near silence lent a rather sinister note to Ewan?s final comment. He had been startled at the abrupt return to Ewan?s normal bearing, and both surprised and put on edge by the easy familiarity with which Ewan addressed the guards. Combined with the adrenaline rush from earlier and the anger over Kayle?s condition that still had him on edge, Hudson was in a black mood indeed.

Still and despite that, courtesy was a long drilled habit. ?A debt o? thanks I owe ye, it seems, Master Corinsson, for th? aid in retrieving young Kayle. Would ye care tae tell me how long ye?ve kenned he was there and in such a state?? Control to rein in his temper lent his words a perhaps-unfortunate dispassionate quality.

"I am not sure I should share much with you, Fraiser. I find it strange indeed to discover you in such a place, or perhaps you frequent there more than I was originally aware." Ewan sat on the edge of Gaston's paper strewn desk. He did not fold his arms. The hands were loose and rested upon his thighs. "In fact, I may take it upon myself to wonder if you did not already know Kayle was there yourself. Seeing if your partners had dealt with him as you planned?" Provocation worked as well to his needs as anything.

Puzzlement at first, followed by a resurgence of rage as Ewan?s insinuation came clear. Hudson?s fist balled and he thumped it against his thigh as inadequate venting of his emotions. His voice came out quiet, however, low and hard to match the darkening scowl he wore. ?Ye suspect me o? mistreating my own man in such manner? O? betraying those I be sworn tae? They say th? suspicions o? a man are raised against what th? person themselves would dae. Should I be wondering at yer loyalty now, Ewan??

A breath as he sought to regain his lost composure. Finally he continued more levelly, with a reach up to where his brooch would normally rest. ?Aye, I kenned Kayle was there, saen last night, when Clyde Owens o? th? Lady Luck mentioned seeing th? man in th? house. He didnae mention injuries, guards, or anything but that th? man was being kept in a private room there.?

Ewan narrowed his eyes. The reaction looked honest. The flush of indignation, the desire to strike and feeling he could not. Ewan tilted his head, but had to laugh at the claim of his loyalties. "Your man, as you say, had a question of loyalties already. And you arrived there with a face to be noticed in a place that knows you well. It was foolhardy to go so undisguised into such a den. If nothing else, those whom you claim to give loyalty may hear of your -- visitations. Then again, what can one say of other?s customs? I shall be, of course, obliged to explain these things to Her Excellency. But you say you learned of his whereabouts but not his condition? This Owens fellow -- you said he saw Kayle there. He is the type of man to visit such places?"

Again the insinuations lay there in Ewan?s words, of not only betrayal but vice upon vice, and Hudson?s rage went from heated to very cold. His voice was flat. ?Which questions would ye hear th? answer tae, Master Corinsson? Th? ones ye ask or th? ones ye hint at? I?ll answer ye both. I didnae gae in a face tae be noticed, nor tae a place that kens me well, given that I?ve never laid eyes on th? building until taeday. Those that ken me dockside who would be in th? area be at sea, fishing; th? rest o? those who might dinnae come close tae such establishments. Owens visits such places wi? frequency and well-beloved there he be, friendly tae all th? madames. They dae wi? him as th? lass taeday did wi? me ? get drunk and weep tae th? friendly ear who listens tae them.?

From flat-voice response to Ewan?s stated questions to a low-toned viciousness as he replied to the hints that Ewan had barely troubled to conceal. ?And gae ye ahead tae explain what ye choose tae th? Baroness. I ken th? right o? what I did. I wanted Kayle tae ha?e him strung for his actions ? now I see him I think they were nae sae voluntary as all that, and ?twas my place tae get and see him safe. If ye?ve set it in yer head against me, as I ken ye ha?e, then I?ll ha?e nae say in any o? it in any case and yer explanation will twist black tae white for yer peace o? mind. But if ye think I?d dae a single thing tae harm th? Lady all knowing, ye be a fool and petty betimes.?

"You do have a temper, Fraiser, do you not. Of one thing let me make myself perfectly clear. I do not lie to Her Excellency. Not ever. That is something you would do well to keep in mind. I do not like you, that much I do not hide. I think you will cause harm to those I am sworn to protect whether you mean to or not. Intention matters little to me." Ewan felt he had made his position as clear as he was willing with that man.

"To the matter at hand. No, from what I have learned, Kayle was not there out of his own desires. Evidently some manner of guilt came on him for the favor he did in seeking the warehouse functions breakdown. His turn of conscience cost him. But there is more to come for the warehouse, some other danger looms, and it would be best if you left its findings in the less reputed places to me. Be glad it was me that caught you there and not one of the other informants to the Baroness. I cannot counter truth with what I do not know. Outside of that you could have gotten yourself killed. I have too many ghosts to fill my past, and I need not add yours to the list. If you come on information in the future, give it to me."

?Aye, temper I ha?e and in full measure, and a wee bit more sense than God gave th? gray goose. If I?d kenned there was more tae hand than Kayle spending ill-gotten money on his own pleasures, I?d nae ha?e tried tae seek him out alone.? His temper was easing, however, backing down, as Ewan?s plain speaking backed away from accusations or hints of betrayal. Finally he nodded curtly, relaxing a bit from the tensed position that he had been maintaining.

?If I hear more I?ll pass it tae ye, but I?ll ask ye tae alert us at th? warehouse if ye expect sommat o? danger tae come. As for liking or mis-liking, I?d thought well o? ye before, Master Corinsson. Ye still ha?e my respect for th? job ye dae, but if ye think tae mis-like me for th? thought that I might one day bring hurt tae those ye protect, even unintentional, I?ll think that ye ha?e a lonely life indeed. I?ll also ken ye a better man than I, if ye?ve ne?er hurt those ye love wi? nae harm meant.? Black eyes were hooded, a visible withdrawal from the younger man.

Ewan stood from his lean. He kept his stance easy, though it was impossible for him not to stand tall over the man, Nature having given him extra height it had not to Hudson. "I have hurt many. I have even hurt those I have sworn to protect. That does not mean my own duty is lessened to protect them. My faults do not assuage me of failing in my duty. Let me speak plain to the subject. Keep your distance from the Baroness. You will never have what you want there."

A turn back, trusting the man not to take a blow while his back was facing him. If he did not strike before, and that was something of a wonder to Ewan, it was unlikely he would strike now. "I do not know the details. I know those that wish harm to the trade have another helping them meet their goals. There is another mole, which is part of my suspicion of you, Fraiser. Still," Ewan narrowed emerald eyes again in swift study and gave a nod, "I am convinced you are not. Is there anything you might have hinting about the warehouse? Anyone else acting oddly that I should watch?"

The warning to keep away from Sylvia garnered nothing but a set jaw and thinned lips, and Hudson?s eyes narrowed as again Ewan mentioned suspicions. He only let the tension seep back from his expression when Ewan confirmed that Hudson was no longer being held in such regard. The question prompted a thoughtful look, however. ?Nae exactly oddly, nae. But th? accountant just last night brought a matter tae th? attention o? Rhys and myself. Th? books seem tae show that funds ha?e been diverted in large measure from the trade, and a portion o? that directed tae extra and covert payments tae Kayle.?

Sighing, Hudson scrubbed his hand fiercely back through his hair, undoing the remnants of the tight club which had restrained it, and showing the faint scattering of silver hairs mixed into black. ?Th? problem be that th? payments ha?e tae ha?e been directed by Captain Caisson if th? books be accurate, and I dinnae believe that. But we dinnae ha?e th? skill in accounting tae sort out truth from lies in th? muddle. A forger and an accountant who can be trusted be what?s needed, and that?s well beyond my ken.?

It was good that Hudson expressed his doubt in Gaerwyn being the culprit of such dubious monetary matters. "The trusted forger I can see you have within the next day." Not feeling compelled to explain how that would be. "The trusted accountant is a rather contradictory title, and that will take time. I can have word sent to Yransea for that matter. In the mean time, do you have any suspicions to how it could have happened knowing as you do that my cousin," he stated the connection for a reminder only, "would not have done such a thing. Who all has the ability to manage it?"

?Th? accountant himself, or any he would ha?e given access or copies o? th? books tae. Th? night guards, who ha?e keys in case o? emergency, though I trust them well. Rhys and myself.? Hudson was unflinching as he put himself squarely back in the list of possible suspects. It was more important to find the true culprit than to worry about Ewan?s paranoid mind.

Each name listed in his mind. "Thank you. I will naturally exclude you and Rhys from investigation. Rhys I know too well, and if someone has gotten to him, then the world has gone upside down even more than usual. Now," Ewan continued, "I suggest you clean up here in the back room. Kayle will be staying awhile. He is safer here and then he will be conducted elsewhere to hear his story. I think I have most of it, but we will see if he is forthcoming or requires persuasion to the truth." It was a chilling way to speak and of an easy nature to him. "I hope we have come to an understanding from this point on. Leave the less pleasant work to me and my kind."

The easy, casual mention of possible torture didn?t sit well at all with Hudson, but there was little he could say against it in this case. He nodded once again. ?Aye, that I will. Again I thank ye, Master Corinsson.? Courtesy that while habitual, was also meant sincerely, as Hudson followed Ewan?s directions to get himself cleaned up and restored to his more usual appearance.

Sylvia had little time to prepare for the meeting with the Merchant Guild to hear the latest on trade endeavors under the new regulations meted out at the convention, but she managed another quick bite to eat before starting the session of discussions. Keefe took a larger hand in the meeting, which allowed Sylvia to sit back and listen to the Masters of the guild highlight the difficulties and the successes.

The hour crept to midafternoon and the duration of hazy ramblings that continued on matters out of her hands sent Sylvia daydreaming and plotting if she could manage to get the children and her back to Rhydin within the next week. Fuzzy thoughts of happy smiles mixed with sad visages in mottled images like beeswax candles melting in the heat of the summer sun, all blotted and blurred.

A shake of her head, tips of her fingers poked into the palms of the opposite hand to keep her attention on the latest impasse on how much of a tax to levy on goods already manufactured in the barony, when Master Baeddanson chuckled out, "It is a good thing we are of like minds on this, brothers. We will have to be careful who else is given rank to the guild."

It was more the cool still of conversation and the poorly concealed looks that stirred Sylvia's curiosity than the comment itself. A mild, conformed smile shared with the men, she tried to share in the humor. "Is this a trouble, good Masters? Have you rogues lurking in your halls?"

Baeddansson flushed scarlet in rash-like splotches along his neck and his lips quivered into a smile. "No, my lady, but we always must be careful. We wield sway over much of the commerce in the Barony except you and your good council, and new members must never be taken lightly." It was as much of a reason as she was going to receive, and the other Masters all smiled and nodded.

Sylvia could not argue the matter nor press. It was a logical, and in fact unnecessarily stated fact that such considerations were vital to the continued workings of the guild. It was the mentioning of it at all that planted the concern in the back of her mind, like an old beggar set to roost on his corner and make his presence known with the shaking of his pan, begging for more.

Late hour, meetings later, she once again saw her children to bed and with the troubles varied and many rising up and down in their turns like a carousel of dilemmas unending in their circle.

?I must admit my surprise that Pentar Rhiordan allowed you to travel to Rhydin, Brother Llyr.? Sylvia commented to the monk over lunch shared with the children.

?The Pentar is a generous man, and has given me leave to explore my failings as a monk.? Brother Llyr did not lift the deep brown eyes from his task of spreading butter over the dark wheat bread.

?Failings?? Sylvia prompted further while she and Beata had a battle of wills over whether she would eat the spoonful of applesauce or not. ?No, miss you are not going to fling this all over the place, I know you.? Having had that experience before when Beata had wanted to feed herself and dumped the spoon sideways letting the applesauce drop everywhere.

Brother Llyr raised his eyes but only to share a wink with the boys who were giggling softly to each other between bites of their meat pasties each time Beata turned her head sharply away from the approaching spoon. ?Yes,? he turned back to the meal. The tremble of his lower lip had not stopped since he arrived at table.

It was a surprise to be sharing lunch with the family of Yransea, and moreso in such an informal manner. Brother Llyr was at a loss what to do, but he had worn his best blue robes, the grey collar of his station, and combed the brown curls of his hair, barely a finger?s length long, so much that they had started to fuzz. Every sensible conversation topic he could muster flew out of his mind as soon as it came, and he was struck with nothing to say but to answer her questions.

Which reminded him, ?Oh, yes, failings. The Pentar knows too well my longing to travel to this strange place with all its wonders.?

Sylvia turned to face the Brother, with a sympathetic smile. ?Curiosity a failing, Brother Llyr??

?It certainly can be. This, however, is an opportunity to support the endeavors of the barony towards the good will of trade as well as be a service to the baronial seat.?

?It is fortunate then to compensate for this failing you have a sharp mind for numbers. Do you handle the cathedral?s accounts?? Sylvia gave up on trying to feed her daughter and handed over the spoon.

?The Church?s,? he corrected with a soft hush of modesty in his rumbling bass.

?The entire Church of the Twelve?? Sylvia felt her jaw stay open and with force clicked it shut.

Brother Llyr sputtered as he shook his head, "No, m'lady, my apologies, just the Church and its concerns in Yransea."

That did little to ease her mind of just how much power this unassuming man wielded.

There was neither a bat of his eye nor the slightest change of his stance. ?I think you could well enough, but I am not concerned about street brawling or even swords really when it comes to it. I am worried about other means to harm you, and the guards are meant to be a ploy for your escape.?

His lack of discomfort in the damage he did to Hudson made her frown the more, though she did notice he had the remnants of a black eye. To spite his calm she brought up the old arguments. ?I used to walk these streets often enough without escort, and was, indeed, escort myself.?

?Your Excellency,? Brother Llyr broke in with a clearing of his throat, ?You were not a Baroness then, and what is more, not the parent of three children.?

That Brother Llyr spoke up stunned Sylvia into a moment?s silence only to have her anger double back and obliterate. It did not, however, change her mind, and with a civil smile to them both, she informed Ewan quite clearly, ?I will walk when I wish to, where I wish to, and how I wish to. Here is your accountant. Let us see this trouble done.? There was an end to that ? for now.

Ewan whistled low and motion for the stocky brother to join him. ?That was bravely done, Brother Llyr. Want to stay around a little more??

The two men shared grins as they started the walk to town. ?Oh, as much as I would like, I think I am only here for this dirty business, and as she says, let us see this trouble done before more breaks upon our heads.?

A hint of a laugh, the spark to emerald eyes, Ewan felt that more trouble was just another crested wave away.

?Oh, Michael, you do flatter so,? Susiana fanned her blushing face and peeked amber eyes at Ewan over the edge of the lacy fan. He had made easy progress with the lady over dinner.

?Such serendipity in meeting you, Miss Susiana, at the theatre cannot be taken without its due gravity. You have brightened by stay as the gentle light of moons brightens the darkest of nights. Think you to share such a glow with me quickens my heart.? He leaned forward, looming his presence towards her as they road in the carriage toward her Uncle Georg?s estate. He was pleased to see how quickly she gave into his act, her mouth opened in anticipation, and Ewan fought the thought of Storm. He was not Ewan now, he had to remember. He was Michael, and Michael was free to take this woman if he wished.

Yet, he could draw out her anticipation further, and instead of meeting her lips with his, he ran his fingers across them, her lips closing around a finger that he drew out of her grasp slowly. She grinned and pressed close to him, not even pretending to a sense of proper behavior. The bump and turn of a the carriage, and Ewan glanced through the curtained windows to see they had arrived.

The hour was late and few lights were in the two story mansion. At least twelve windows across the front, and wide oak double doors polished to a gleam even in the faint light of night and lamps. ?Your uncle keeps a fine home. It reminds me much of my own domicile, but I have one level more, for the servants, you see.? He smiled. ?We cannot all afford the luxury of paying so much the servants can have their own residences as your uncle can.?

?Oh, Uncle Georg is ever so wealthy, and I am sure he will be glad to help you establish your trade here.? Susiana gushed. ?He will be asleep already, but we can speak with him over breakfast.? She pressed more and nibbled on his earlobe.

?I would like nothing better,? he gave a warm smile that showed nothing of his disdain for her or her uncle.

The door opened by the footman, he stepped out and helped Susiana down. A weary looking butler bowed them into the quiet house, its ornaments and furniture wraiths of shadow in the infrequent lighting, but Susiana refused a lamp. ?I know my way, and I will show Sir Hawthorne his way.? She bit her bottom lip in anticipation of him, and Ewan played his part well, trailing his fingers down her neck and her back to rest on the swell of her silk clad hip.

The servants were unmistakably used to this, and left Susiana to her games for the night. Ewan only hoped he could find the way to keep from having to meet those games in full, because it was more than certain that his vows were causing an unforeseen distress. It was a complication he could do without, but he also did not want to give into the dark inside and just kill the woman outright, not when there was another way.

And the bit of dark offered up the way.

?Captain??

Gaerwyn looked up from his papers at his desk in the warehouse offices in Seansloe. The Inspire had docked in the bright dawn of morning after a three week journey to eastern side continent and the various ports of call along the way. A beneficial journey, still it strained at him to be away from his new wife and the troubles that brewed in Rhydin with the warehouse and trade new established there.

Shadows smeared weary purple and blue streaks beneath his eyes. ?Yes, what is it, Sean??

Sean was a spritely old man with a fringe of snow white hair and wing-like brows peppered black and grey. The offices ran smoothly in Seansloe under his guidance. ?Her Excellency is here.?

So entrenched in catching up on the business that transpired while he was away, Gaerwyn?s mind was slow to adjust to the meaning of words, numbers so consumed the patterns. ?Sorry, Sean?? he blinked.

?Her Excellency, Baroness of Yransea.?

Gaerwyn sat up bolt straight and then banged his legs against his desk as he stood. ?Of course, please, have her enter.? It was such a rare thing for her to visit that it might as well be as if she had never done so before.

Sylvia gave Sean a smile as she stepped past to stop and greet Gaerwyn?s bow with a smile and nod. ?I am glad to see you returned safely, Gaerwyn, and I have been entrusted with this letter for you from Ewan.?

The thin folded paper, sealed with Ewan?s personal seal, the twin blades bound by ivy, was held out to him. ?Thank you, my lady.? The letter was opened and read with brisk dispatch. ?Do you know what this letter contains??

?I do, Captain,? she nodded. ?Am I to expect your petition then??

Gritting his teeth, he read the document once more. All weariness plummeted out of him and in that vacuum replaced with a hardened resolve. ?Yes, Your Excellency. I will have it written and delivered to the Guild by this afternoon.?

?As ex-officio of the Merchant?s Guild, I will be certain to receive a copy, but I urge you, Gaerwyn, to wait until the morning for its delivery.? The smooth voice did not carry any temper of malice.

Tugging at his jacket, the fit suddenly too tight, ?No, I disagree. I will have this matter done.?

Sylvia nodded and walked for the door. ?As you see it right, Captain. I hope it will purge the anger you must feel before you return home. Your family has missed you greatly.?

Not dullard to the open chastisement, Gaerwyn nodded, hand raking through hair set golden by days in the sun. ?Aye, of course, my lady,? he agreed as he saw her out and Sean escorted her to her waiting guard.

?Sean?? he called and the man returned with those winged brows raised with question. ?We have a petition to write, and it is an unpleasant business all around.?

Without fuss or fanfare, Sean took a seat at the writing desk and prepared. ?What kind of petition, Captain??

?A petition for hearing my claim of sabotage and conspiracy against my person and business by the Merchant Guild Masters --"

When the names were spoken, Sean paused his pen and stared. The silence held but for the shaking sound of ropes and pulleys outside the office windows. After a moment, Sean gave a nod, "Very good, sir," and they began.