 
Chapter One: Hadrian

He stared viciously at the page and mentally willed the words to remain still, and for a brief moment, they slowed. A sentence appeared for the briefest moment, and then the text continued in its frenzied dance. Hadrian closed the book and placed his head in his hands. Footsteps sounded behind him and a much younger man stood at the table.

"You've been down here for hours, sir."

"I would have guessed days. Or months, or years. Wouldn't make a difference. Not a damn." He laughed dryly. "I suppose everyone else is itching to go."

The younger man, everyone called him Drex, had grown used to Hadrian's temper. "In a word? Yes. What's the problem anyway? Just some old books."

Drex had, accidentally or no, hit the nail squarely on the head. Hadrian, the old scholar, could read or translate any language known to man. For a time he had specialized in ancient writings. Not only dead, but buried and eaten by worms.

"Enchantments my boy." He said this without looking up, but was smiling slightly.

"What?"

"Magic, bewitched, e'spelled, cursed, I don't know, whatever you people call it."

"You know magic?" Drex could not keep the astonishment, and fear, out of his voice.

"I've learned enough. Enough to know why I can't read these, but not enough to actually do anything." Hadrian finally looked up at the younger man. "Close your mouth, there are moths down here."

Drex closed his mouth and looked around nervously. "So you are a wizard then? You can summon demons and converse with the dead?"

"And shoot lightning bolts from my ass. Hadrian the wizard, sure. Keep it under your hat boy. People around here are damn superstitious." He scoffed. "And with good reason."

"Why is that?"

"It wasn't so long ago that witches lived in the hills and wizards in their studies." Hadrian pointed to the small mountain of books he had assembled. "I can only guess what is written in those, and I have a very active imagination. I think we can assume they not are recipe books." He stood up suddenly, his mood somewhat improved. "Well, if I can't read them, there is little danger of anyone else doing so. You say those rogues I hired are ready to go? Then let's go. Hot food and a warm bed do not sound too bad."

Outside of the ruined watchtower, a dozen men were camped around a large cooking fire. There were half as many women: wives and whores. One man had even brought his scrawny twelve year old daughter. Hadrian had at first objected; the men were to ensure he was not robbed and gutted out in the middle of nowhere, but they were insistent. It was simply the way things were done here. So what was supposed to be a quiet journey became an entire traveling community. A local trader had even come along, packing up his mule and hiring a man to guard his wares.

The girl ran up and happily danced around him. "Mr. Hadrian! You're finally out! Did you find anything in the tomb?"

"A tomb? Why do you think it's a tomb?" He did not think the crumbling watchtower looked anything like a tomb. It hardly looked like a tower these days, but it was built on a hill, like it was supposed to be.

"Everyone says so." She said with blind trust.

"Oh, well if everyone says so... what if everyone said the sky was green?"

She laughed. "But it isn't."

"Just so, sometimes you just have to see a thing for yourself."

"I think it looks like a tomb."

Hadrian sighed and shook his head. "A tomb would have been more interesting."

Some of the men stood as he came near, but most did not. They had killed one of the many animals that were brought along on the expedition and were eating happily. He raised his voice to be heard over their conversations and singing.

"I expect that the journey home will take only half as long as it took us to get here. For some reason I agreed to pay each of you three silver dimes a day, so naturally you led me in circles for a week. And when we get here? A trip wasted it seems." He paused and looked at the men. They were in good spirits despite the drizzling rain. "Let's go home."

There was a cheer and the camp was packed up in record time. Hadrian rolled his eyes, but remained silent. Many of the men had families to look after, so he did not begrudge their "enterprising" nature. Of course, some would drink away their money as soon as possible. That too, was simply the way things were done. Not for the first time, Hadrian wondered what he might do next. It was springtime and the seas would be calm. Only the foolish, or desperate, braved the winter storms. He had spent the winter in the city of Snowy Down and came north when the roads cleared. There were places to go now that the sea was open to him. Cities of gold, misty mountains, and oceans of sand. Adventure was out there, certainly.

The nearest settlement, a small town called Lordsburg, was three days away. It would have been faster to travel alone, Hadrian was the only one riding a horse, but far more dangerous. The group was slowed down by the animals that had made the journey with them: mules, goats, pigs, and even a milk cow. Once they reached the town, Hadrian would dismiss the thirteen men he had originally hired. The rest would go with them. Then, finally, he would be by himself on the road to Snowy Down.

They were camped that first night on the edge of a stream. A few of the group tried their luck at fishing, but came back disappointed. Hadrian found a comfortable place next to the fire and wrote down a few lines in his travel journal.

Day sixteen of this fool's errand. The tower was there, and so were the books, but they were enchanted in such a way that made reading them impossible. So, in the tower they will remain, where someone else can fail to read them. I wonder how many others have written these same words? In any case, I am returning to my home in Snowy Down, traveling by way of Lordsburg.

"Mr. Hadrian?" Drex was sitting next to him on the fallen tree.

"What is it?"

"Food, sir."

Hadrian took the bowl and poked at its contents. "What is it?" He asked again.

"Oh, I don't really know. Looks like, potatoes, some of that goat we ate earlier, and something green."

"Hmph." He produced a wooden spoon from his pocket and tried a bite. "Tastes like pine needles." Hadrian raised his voice. "My compliments to the chef!"

Several women turned and scowled at him. He bowed his head and scowled back.

"What's wrong with pine needles, sir? My mam always said they were the best way to keep things moving, you know, down stairs."

Hadrian grumbled and ate another bite.

"See? Not so bad right?" Drex happily finished his own bowl and went off to look for more. The rest of the camp was settling down to sleep. Someone was singing softly and Hadrian drifted off, thinking of their Northern speech.

Snowy Down became a city because the ruling Lords said it was a city. The native tribes shook their heads, but came to visit anyway. Some were impressed by civilization, by its cobbled streets and docile animals. Some stayed, to work the fields or the docks, to become weavers and professional drunks. Most however, continued their lives in the same manner as before, only ignoring the place where "civilized man" chose to live. Even today, if you walk in a straight line long enough, you will meet these tribes. Hadrian had learned their languages and they had shared with him their lives. He liked them well enough, but he liked soft beds and books even more. That night he dreamed of one of those tribes, of one of the women in particular. She was lean and strong, with skin darkened by the sun. Hadrian had thought her a wild animal when he first saw her, but she spoke with the same eloquence as a Lady of the court. He sometimes dreamed of going back to that tribe, to see her again.

The remainder of the trip passed without incident. The camp rose early each morning and traveled until they were weary to the bone. Hadrian spent his third night in Lordsburg. He rented a small cottage, rather than sleep in the inn, which gave him more room to himself. There was a knock at the door.

"Yes?" He asked the young man, his clothes dirty from travel.

"Mr. Greenfield sends his compliments, sir. I heard you were back in town and so I raced over here as soon as I could."

"To do what?" Hadrian looked at him suspiciously. "And what does my lawyer want?"

"I have a letter for you, sir." The messenger handed him a letter and stood there politely.

"Mr. Greenfield paid you for the delivery?"

"Of course, sir, but I have been in town for a long time."

"How many days?"

"Four, sir. I ran a few letters for the townies, but there was little work. Most people deliver their own mail around here."

"Of course. Four days gets a dime." Hadrian reached into his pocket and fished out the coin. He suspected the young man had only been in town for a day, and spent it drinking in the tavern by the smell of him.

"Thank you kindly, sir. Blessings of luck be upon you."

"Yes, yes, now get out of here." Hadrian closed the door firmly and scanned the letter. "Oh hells! I'm being sued!" He said aloud, then read over the letter carefully.

Mr. Hadrian,

The couple, Mr. and Mrs. Carter, have filed a complaint against your person. As your legal representation, I stepped in and made certain inquiries. The city watch has taken into custody one of your household servants, the most serious of the charges leveled against him being burglary. The family pressing charges is looking to collect damages from you. I have stalled the proceedings until such a time as you can return, including the execution of the servant. Please return with all haste back to the city.

Your servant,

Mr. Robert Greenfield, Attorney at Law

In the morning, Hadrian returned the horse to the merchant he had lent it from and hired a carriage headed back to the city. He was one of five passengers, all of whom assumed he was a merchant. It was a cover he used often. He had no natural distinguishing features, but dressed well enough to move in the higher circles. It made him naturally invisible. No spells or enchantments, just common sense, which had always served him much better than any magic.

They stopped at the planned way-stations to change out horses and drivers. This gave the passengers a chance to stretch their legs. Hadrian used the time to make observations of the changing terrain. The brittle, flint hills gave way to grassy lowlands and leafy trees. He could smell the sea now, though they were still miles from the coast. Hadrian relieved himself and climbed back into the carriage. They drove throughout the night and arrived in the heart of the city by the late afternoon.

Hadrian was dreading the dull business with the Carters, but could not help but feel excited to be back in the city. Human habitation tended to be a smelly affair, and Snowy Down was no different. There was the smell of the sewers, which were really just a pair of depressions on either side of the road that filled with garbage and rainwater. The freshly-melted snow helped to wash the year's accumulated filth down into the lower parts of the city. As one could guess, these were the poor districts, where no sensible person would be found, even in broad daylight.

People and animals filled the narrow streets, designed for only one third the traffic. Hadrian was caught walking behind a pig farmer driving his herd up the road. He thought about asking the man why he thought this was a good idea, but the farmer carried a big stick to dissuade such questions. As a result, Hadrian arrived home an hour later than he had planned. He was greeted in the courtyard by the two servants not in jail, the cook and the maid, both older women.

"Welcome home Mr. Hadrian." Mrs. Waters said happily.

"Welcome home, sir." Mrs. Blaine said, somewhat less excited. It was, after all, her youngest son sleeping in a cell.

"Thank you, thank you. I hear there is some trouble with the young master Blaine, but that can wait a moment. First, I am about to collapse from hunger."

"I cannot imagine what sort of gruel you have been eating without me, Mr. Hadrian." Mrs. Waters bowed her head and hurried off in the direction of the kitchen.

Hadrian turned to Mrs. Blaine and led her inside. "Now that we have a bit of privacy, we can talk. How is Samuel?"

"He seems well enough, I visit as often as they let me."

"I will meet with the owners of the house as soon as they will see me. Since they want money, I am sure that it will be soon. Are you aware of the punishment for thievery, Mrs. Blaine?"

The woman nodded, and to her credit did not sob and plead. "Yes sir. Hanging."

Hadrian gave her a weak smile. "Or military service. He's young and healthy, it shouldn't be a problem. He will have to serve for a long time, however. Thirty years, if the recruiter is a mean bastard."

Mrs. Blaine nodded, but said nothing else. Hadrian sighed. "Well, that's that, nothing we can do but face the present. Here, take my bag. See if there is anything salvageable in there." His clothes were stained and ripped, no different than at the end of any adventure.

The owners, the severe Mr. and Mrs. Carter, invited him to their home for an early lunch the next day. After being introduced, Hadrian decided not to start things off with a joke. They did not seem the type that laughed often. It was well into the meal, after what seemed like hours of boring small talk, when Mr. Carter brought the damages.

"He broke two windows."

"Two?" Hadrian interrupted. "Sorry, I was just surprised, seems so unnecessary."

"We agree." Said Mrs. Carter, although she was not at all amused.

"The boy stole two candlesticks, a good pocket watch, and a very expensive sapphire necklace."

"All of which you have recovered?"

"Ah, no. The stolen goods were not found on the boy. Or in his room."

"He wasn't apprehended on the spot?"

"No, the little rascal was very fast. I had only time to see him flee through the second broken window."

Hadrian frowned. "So you did not get a good look at his face?"

"Of course not, it was too dark."

"Then how do you know it was Mr. Blaine who robbed you?"

The man puffed up. "Are you calling me a liar, Mr. Hadrian?"

"Of course not. I believe that you were robbed by someone."

"Not just someone, a man in your employ."

"Did you decide he worked for me before or after you were robbed?"

The man was confused for a moment. "What could you possibly mean?"

"Did you know young Mr. Blaine previous to the break in?"

"I've seen him hanging around the wash girl." Mrs. Carter said with disdain.

"So that makes him a suspect? You've seen him before and so he must have done it?" Hadrian could feel himself losing his temper and tried to remain calm.

"I've never liked the look of him." Mr. Carter said, as if that made him guilty.

"Well, lucky for the guilty looking, there are laws in this city. It seems I must bring the boy's case to the magistrate."

Mr. Carter became red in the face. "Now just a moment. There is no need for a magister to stick his nose into our business."

"I agree. My lawyer is a very unpleasant man, I would rather not involve him."

"Nor I, sir."

Hadrian laughed. "You summoned me from a very important research project." A lie, of course, but he smelled a bribe.

"Well, for your time, I am willing to compensate you. Let's say, very generously."

"How gracious of you. What an unfortunate mistake, the guards of this city should be ashamed."

"Arrested an innocent boy." Mrs. Carter chimed in sarcastically. "Just disgraceful."

Hadrian laughed quietly to himself. He had assumed that the boy was guilty, just as they had. The young man would have hung simply because the neighbors disliked him.

Chapter Two: Sara Tonic

"Space Log, Commander Sara Tonic reporting. I've made an emergency landing on a habitable planet. I would have run out of food, water, and oxygen in any other case. Looks like I survived by the skin of my teeth, yet again. Personal note: Find new occupation. Repairs are impossible, need to find replacement parts. Anyway, my previous log noted that I was responding to a distress beacon. I found the ship, a freighter by my guess. Unfortunately, someone else found it first. Fate of the distressed crew, unknown. Poor bastards. My skiff is shot to hell. I was ambushed by unknown enemies. Another personal note: They better pray I never find them."

Sara rubbed the sweat from her forehead. "So here I am, lugging as many supplies as I can carry. There might be sentient life on the planet. Worse, they probably don't have the parts to repair my space skiff. I'd give it one chance in a billion. Why am I always rolling the long odds? Worst case, I'm the only person on the entire planet. I go crazy, but never have the courage to end it all. Won't my parents be proud? Sara Tonic out."

She swore bitterly and checked the device she was speaking into. It did not seem to have been recording. Swearing again, she threw it into a nearby tree. "Great, just talking to myself!"

The rest of the day progressed slowly. She was walking downhill, for no reason other than it was easier than walking uphill. It was not a difficult hike at least, the planet had slightly less gravity than the ones she was used to. Plus, she was accustomed to hard work. After hours of walking, Sara sat down on a boulder and dug in her pack for something to eat. She found a package of powdered meat, just add water. Along with that, she swallowed a caffeine tablet. The food energized her, but Sara did not dare to let her spirits rise. If there were inhabitants, they would not likely be human. She would be lucky if they were even intelligent. Life would get boring, fast, without any people.

Suddenly there was a noise behind her. She jumped up and drew her plasma pistol, holding it in both hands. A man, human and strikingly handsome was standing before her. He held a hunting rifle and was looking her over. Sara felt relief that there were people on this planet. Then she remembered that they were both holding guns.

"Don't move a muscle." She growled, with one hand looking for her translator. She checked the pockets of her jacket before remembering where it was. "Oh shit! I threw it at a tree!"

The man was looking at her pistol and a flash of anger crossed his face. Sara had seen that look before. "Hey!" She was waving for him to put down the gun. "Don't you even think about it. I'd hate to vaporize your pretty face."

She knew that he was going to do it anyway. When he tried to bring the gun to his shoulder she pulled the trigger. One moment there was a person and the next there was ash on the wind.

"Idiot!" She looked around to see if he had been alone. No one else in sight. "Why would you destroy your translator? Now that nice man, also an idiot, is dead." She shrugged. "Well, better you than me pal."

The rifle had fallen to the ground and she slung it over her shoulder. It was heavier than it looked, but had a comfortable weight. "Back to the ship then. Good thing I have another one." She walked back the way she had come.

Sara had time to think as she walked back to her crashed ship. The people here were advanced enough for gunpowder, but she would not be able to repair her ship with their primitive technology. On the whole, it was better than starving to death on a barren moon. The man she had killed did not leave her thoughts, but she was not overly troubled by him. Any guilt she felt was second to the sensation of being alive. Never before had she wrestled with the question of good and evil, and she was damned if she was start now. Morality was a nice thing to think about when you were home, safe and warm.

When the ship was spiraling out of the sky, Sara had little time to pick a landing site. At the bottom of a ravine was probably not high on the list of best options. She was able to hide the space skiff easily enough though. With a few leaves and branches, the ship was almost impossible to find unless you knew where to look. Sara dug in the place under the seat, the place where everything ended up falling. Sure enough, she found the Device hidden among candy bar wrappers and strange scraps of paper. Sara slapped it against her palm a few times and switched it on.

"Okay." She said happily when it lit up. One of its many features was a universal translator, which she enable and stuck the thing in her coat pocket.

It was already getting late, so she ate a meager dinner and settled down for the night inside of the ship. The outer canopy closed down above her, enclosing her in a bubble of metal and glass. The stars shone brightly in the night sky and she found a few familiar star systems. They were impossibly far away and she felt very alone.

It was in the late afternoon, the next day, before Sara reached a town. She stole a cloak from a clothesline and wandered around. Most people ignored her, a few exchanged friendly greetings. They wore modest clothing, both men and women covering their heads in wide-brimmed hats when outside. Shirts and dresses were not brightly colored, but not muted either. On the whole, they looked like people that did the best with what life had given them. The same as any intelligent species she had ever met. It was easy to imagine that this was simply a distant human colony, rather than an alien world.

Sara found a trader in the market willing to buy a few of her food items, in exchange for silver and copper coins. He was skeptical, but believed her when she said they were from "the city". An easy enough lie, the people in the town were close-knit and distrustful of outsiders. Telling people that she was a city dweller seemed to excuse her of any and all odd behaviors.

With the coins she stay at the local inn. The bed was probably infested with lice, but it was still a bed. Better than sleeping in the ship in any case. At dinner she chatted politely with the other guests.

"I hope I'm not too bold, madam, but your clothing is quite strange." A large gentlemen who had introduced himself as Mr. Winsteff, a wool trader, said in a booming voice. Sara guessed that he was referring to her flight jacket and the fact that she wore pants.

"Oh, perhaps you are a forest guide?" Mrs. Tabalt, the owner suggested.

"No, Mrs. Tabalt, but is that a common profession?" Sara deflected neatly, taking a long sip of wine.

"We get all kinds here in Lordsburg. All kinds." The woman said with a hint of pride.

"I met a strange man in the market earlier today." Said Mrs. Dumphrey, a gossip by nature.

"What was strange about him?" Asked Mrs. Tabalt.

"Well, he looked like a trader, so I asked him about his wares."

She paused and Mr. Winsteff coughed impatiently.

"So, I asked him what he traded, and he told me he dealt in secrets."

Both Mrs. Tabalt and Mr. Winsteff laughed. Sara took another sip of wine.

"He said, that being a trader, he would make a deal with me. A secret for a secret."

"Oh, he was probably just flirting with you!" Mrs. Tabalt teased.

"Well, I am available, maybe he was." She paused again. "So anyway, I told him how well my neighbor, Mr. Gilbert, was getting along with his new maid." She winked at them and smiled.

"So what did he tell you?" Sara asked quietly.

"He said he was a stage magician."

"You said he looked like a merchant." Complained Mr. Winsteff.

"That's what I said to him, but he said it was part of his act. He said he was in disguise."

"Did he give you his stage name?" Asked Mrs. Tabalt, quite interested.

"Hadrian the Magnificent."

"It couldn't be the same Mr. Hadrian, no surname given mind you, that hired all those boys to accompany him out into the wilderness?" Mr. Winsteff clearly thought the woman mistaken.

"I wouldn't know."

"Why would anyone do that?" Sara asked the wool trader.

"Hunting, probably." Mrs. Dumphrey interrupted. "That's all men want to do. That, and drinking."

The women both laughed, Sara only frowned. "How many did he hire? And why hire men to hunt with you?"

Mr. Winsteff shrugged. "Protection, he said. Seemed a cautious man."

"Are there many bandits?" Sara asked, thinking of the man she had killed. He had not looked like a robber, but that may been part of it. Who better to rob you than someone you would not expect?

"A few ruffians, but nothing like what they have down South." Mrs. Dumphrey said and nodded to herself. "Safe enough that a lady can walk through Town Square in the middle of the night without escort! Not that a respectable one would, anyhow."

There was a pause in the conversation as Mrs. Tablat brought out the dessert, sweet rolls with jelly.

"If you want to know more, Miss Tonic, I know one of the men hired to go with Mr. Hadrian, young Drexler."

"Really?" Sara asked, only half interested.

"Sure, he's a farm hand at the Richard's place."

"I think I will track him down tomorrow. I'm thinking of heading that way myself, to visit an old family shrine." Sara explained, though she could have said she was looking for flying pigs and Mrs. Tabalt would have believed her.

Sara excused herself a few minutes later, after she had eaten dessert. In the morning, she would speak with this Drexler fellow and find out what he was hired to do way out in the countryside. A small part of her was worried her ship had been spotted "landing". It was unlikely, however. In her room there was a mirror hanging above the dresser. She looked at her reflection and smirked. Her leather flight jacket was covered in dirt and her pants were ripped at the knee. She sighed and went to sleep with her gun under the pillow.

Sara woke up late in the morning, too late to get any breakfast. She mended her clothes and cleaned up as best she could. Mrs. Tabalt gave her one of her old hats, probably feeling pity for the strange woman, and Sara pinned down her red hair. Next, she tracked down the man named Drexler.

He was a young man, maybe just turned eighteen. His eyes were bright and perceptive, looking up at her from the saddle he was repairing.

"Good morning, madam."

"Mr. Drexler I presume?"

"Just Drex, madam."

"Then just Sara."

He smiled. "Thank you. What can I do for you? Looking for a new saddle?"

"Perhaps if you have a horse to go along with it." She looked around the barn. Most of the tools looked like they had been used recently.

"Sorry, I can't help you there."

"Did you travel with a man named Hadrian?"

"I did, Sara. Do you know him?"

"Yes." She made up the lie as she went along. "We are old acquaintances. I was hoping to see him while he was in town. He didn't know I was here, you see. And I only just today heard his name come up."

Drex nodded. "He does seem the slippery type. I am sorry you missed him."

"Did he mention where he was heading?"

"South, to the city, is my best guess."

"I did not think to see him this far North, or myself for that matter. What was he doing all the way out here? Hunting?"

"No ma'am." He seemed to be holding back, looking nervously at his work and fussing with a stray piece of leather.

"Oh, I see." Sara changed her voice to a more dangerous tone and drew out her pistol. "Listen Drex, do you see what I have here?"

His eyebrows shot up and once he recovered, he nodded.

"Good. You seem to be a smart man. I'm smart too. I know you are lying. Which is fine, I would have done the same. However, since I have the gun, you are going to give up your secrets."

He took a long breath. "Okay."

"Okay? Alright, first, what did this Hadrian want out there?"

"He found some books. He couldn't read them, talked about how they were cursed."

"Magic books." Sara said slowly to herself. "Sure, why not? I've seen stranger, and he just left them there?"

"Hadrian said no one else could read them either. Then we packed up and came home."

She nodded and put the gun away. "Was that so difficult? Relax, I'm sure the books were just old. No magic, or witches, or whatever."

"How can you be so sure?"

Sara was backing away from him slowly, she stopped and smiled. "I suppose I can't be entirely sure, but I'm making an assumption. Lucky for you, another one of my assumptions is that you are telling me the complete truth. Good day, Mr. Drexler. For your sake, I really hope that we don't cross paths ever again."

Chapter Three: Hadrian

Lord Jonathan Walsh was an unfortunate associate. An embarrassing event had led to the man witnessing Hadrian break a number of laws, each a hanging offense by itself. Now he was invited to the Walsh estate for dinner.

Seated on his left was one of the Walsh daughters, Miriam. Her husband, the owner of the largest fishing fleet along the Cold Coast, was not present. To Hadrian's right was another son-in-law, William Tell. Across from him was William's wife, the eldest of the Walsh daughters, Nellis. To her left was her brother Art and his wife Josephine. At the head of the table was Lord Walsh, his wife Sophia, seated opposite him.

Hadrian knew there were at least one other daughter hidden away somewhere. He looked Lady Walsh over. She had aged well, in his opinion. She smiled at him and he nodded in recognition. "Your house is really quite something Lady Walsh. When was it constructed?"

She looked puzzled and her husband spoke up. "It was one of the first buildings in the city. As you know, the Walsh family was here from the very beginning. Much older than even the city itself."

"Indeed?" Hadrian had heard the boast many times before.

"Yes, my family came here as the first settlers, from the lands beyond the White Falls."

Hadrian nodded in appreciation and Art spoke up. "I was reading a paper that suggested Queen's Cross predates the city by more than five hundred years."

Hadrian smiled. "Are you much of a scholar, sir?"

"Whenever I have the time." He laughed and looked at his wife.

"I was sure to impress the importance of knowledge on all of the children." Lady Walsh said with pride. "We have one of the largest collection of books this side of the sea."

In fact, they had probably the smallest, but Hadrian remain silent on that point. Lord Walsh was the youngest son in a very large family tree. The estate was all he was left in his inheritance. That, and his arranged marriage to an up-and-coming family. Since then, he had married off his daughters to the highest bidder. They were decent matches, but the nobility of the Walsh line now lay with the Lord's older brothers, James and Edward.

"How are you keeping yourself busy, Mr. Hadrian?" Asked Miriam Walsh.

Hadrian turned his head to address her. "I recently return from an expedition North, madam, farther even than Lordsburg."

"Did you now?" Asked Lady Walsh. "Were you not afraid of the barbarian tribes?"

"Not in the least, my Lady. They are not known to bother the civilized folk up there, nor do they ever come this far South."

"They prefer the cold, I suspect." Lord Walsh said definitively.

Hadrian knew for a fact that the tribes despised the 'interlopers', but he did not want to appear rude. In a man's house, he was allowed his own opinions. Even if those opinions were ridiculous. The natives thought the civilized people only a temporary occurrence and believed that soon they would be driven from their shores by supernatural forces.

"What did your expedition achieve?" Miriam Walsh continued as if they were never interrupted.

"Very little, I'm afraid." Hadrian admitted. "I was searching for a collection of ancient texts, but time can be cruel."

Lady Walsh chuckled, but said nothing.

"What a shame." Miriam tried to offer a comforting smile, but she took after father. It was too smug and lacked any sympathy . Or perhaps, he thought, she was mocking him.

Dinner continued for another hour. Elaborate dishes were brought out one after another. Hadrian ate with little appetite though. He enjoyed the company, but was wary of Lord Walsh. The man knew entirely too much and was notoriously ambitious.

"Well, Mr. Hadrian, shall we retire to my study for brandy and cigars?"

Hadrian nodded and said good evening to the others at the table, then followed Lord Walsh into his study. The room was well-furnished and looked exactly as a study should. He sat down on a padded chair and accepted a glass of brandy.

"To your health, sir." Lord Walsh said and Hadrian said the same. There was a few moments of silence as the two men enjoy the liquor. "So, you must be curious why I invited you?"

Hadrian only nodded.

"Well, I heard that you were finally back from your journey North. And before that you spent almost an entire year at sea."

"I never really learned to settle down I'm afraid."

Lord Walsh chuckled. "And I hope you don't intend to anytime soon?"

"Why do you ask, sir?"

"I have a business interest that would benefit from your involvement."

Hadrian didn't say anything.

"Nothing sinister, I assure you. It's all above water, if you will."

"I am not sure what use I could be in either case."

"I would think that a man in your particular position would be eager to become useful."

It was blackmail then. The Lord laughed at Hadrian's discomfort.

"Don't look so bleak! We are civilized men. Your secret is safe with me. I am only insisting on your help. There is money to be made, we must only seize the opportunity."

Hadrian stared at him for a long time. "It seems I have no choice."

"I also have another suggestion, this one will benefit us both."

"Like the first suggestion?"

"Not at all. You are aware I have two daughters that were not present at dinner?"

"Yes." Hadrian did not know exactly what to think. What was he getting at?

"Well, the youngest I have already proposed to a sheep baron who lives in Lordsburg. Though I suppose I can make arrangements if you insist."

"What? I mean, what kind of arrangements?"

Lord Walsh finished his glass and poured more brandy into both of theirs. "I would rather make you a friend than an enemy, Hadrian. No fool would anger a man with your abilities, at least any more than necessary."

"Necessary?"

"Well, my family's interests must come before your pride, you understand."

"Of course." He said acidly.

"I have a daughter, and you are a trusted friend of no small means. You have property and a reputation as a gentleman."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Well, Lilan is very charming. I'm sure the two of you will get along."

"I have not said yes yet."

"But you will. I know men like you. Secretly, this is what you want, more than wealth or popularity. Respectability is what you desire. Walsh is old blood, better than some may say you deserve, but desperate times..."

"I am sure you're right." Though the man was not wrong. Such a distinguished name could open certain doors. Lord Walsh was more shrewd than Hadrian had credited him.

"I can see it in your face that you accept. Good, Lilan will be happy. I've suspected that she has grown weary of this place." He paused and studied Hadrian. "Not to pry, but are your particular skills learned, or bred?"

"Learned, sir. Though the most powerful wizards come from families as old as your own."

"I'm sure. Well, I am happy we were able to work out our differences. How about you come by the house tomorrow? You can meet Lilan and we will discuss business."

Hadrian nodded and finished his drink, then poured them both another. "To the future happiness of your daughter." He left feeling like the Lord Walsh had gotten the better of him.

At home, he had entered through the kitchen, the servants were sharing a bottle of wine. They all jumped up when he came in, but he waved them down in annoyance.

"Pour me a glass and fill your own."

Mrs. Waters did the honors and looked at him. "Are we celebrating, sir?"

"Indeed. I'm to be married."

The three congratulated him and he helped them finish the bottle. They were full of questions.

"How old is she?"

"Who is she?"

"Are you going to be rich?"

Hadrian sighed. "The lady is Lilan Walsh, and I know she is somewhat younger than me. And no, I don't think I will ever be rich."

"Don't say that, sir. You never know." Young Sam said hopefully.

Hadrian stood up and swayed a bit. "I've had a good bit to drink tonight. I had better go sleep it off." He nodded to all of them and left the kitchen.

They all said goodnight and he could hear them talking excitedly as he walked up to his bedroom. One thing he could say for servants, at least you always had someone to share news with.

The sun was high when he came calling to the Walsh estate. Apparently the girl was riding, so Hadrian went looking for her. He was dressed for walking, sturdy leather boots and rolled-up sleeves. The stable boy thought she would be back soon, so he sat down on a crate and began reading the book he had brought.

It was almost an hour later when a rider approached. Hadrian had guessed right, she was much younger than himself, though in truth almost everyone was. Wizards lived for a very long time, and did not obey the normal rules of aging, for whatever reason. No one was sure why.

She looked to be in her early twenties and clearly took after her mother, but with a darker complexion. Hadrian was relieved not to see her father's hawkish features and frowning mouth. The horse trotted over and he stood up.

"Good afternoon, madam."

Lilan Walsh had green eyes, which did not match any one else in her family. They reminded him of a cat's, wary and suspicious. "Good afternoon, sir." She did not seem to know who he was.

"I am Hadrian. Did your father mention that I might come by?"

"Oh!" She looked embarrassed, but not pleased. "I suppose I expected someone closer to my own age."

"A white knight on a stallion perhaps? He passed me by on the road here."

She frowned. "I meant, I hoped for someone younger."

"Your tongue is very sharp, madam. At least I won't get bored with you." He moved closer to help her dismount. "You know, it is very rude to speak to a peer while on horseback."

She came down off the horse, but without his help.

"A peer? You are old enough to be my father."

Hadrian laughed. "Hardly. I'm only thirty-five!" Or thirty-six, he had lost track of how old he was supposed to appear.

She stood across from him with hands on her hips. Strangely, Hadrian found the defiance rather exciting. "My sisters are married to men of power and influence."

He shrugged. "Collecting wealth, what a dull life. I prefer adventure."

"What kind of adventures have you been on?"

Hadrian held up the book he carried. "Last year, I sailed with the Captain Murdock. I made note, in here, of all I experienced. But if you are not satisfied, then I will not force you to marry me. Your father said your younger sister would make a better match anyway."

Lilan took a step forward and grinned at him. "Liar. Did you really sail on the Lyat? Is it truly made of steel? And does it sail as if by magic? Not a single sail?"

He smiled and held out the book. "How did you know I was lying?"

"I don't have a younger sister." She took it in one hand.

Hadrian frowned and shook his head angrily. "Looks like I underestimated your father once again. And you too. Good day, Miss Walsh."

He was walking away when she called to him. "Wait! Aren't you going to ask me anything?"

"Like what?" He yelled back.

"I don't know."

"Well then, neither do I."

She walked over to him and glared at him for a whole minute. Hadrian was glad to see that she did not pout. "You are the least charming man I have ever met!"

"Then you have clearly not met many of us."

Lilan stuck out her tongue and there was a long silence. "Well, you came all this way, and my father is going to make you wait anyway."

Hadrian looked at her questioningly. She sighed. "Must I spell it out? I will wait with you!"

"Oh, okay then." He smiled. "All of this attention is going to make me blush."

They started walking and Hadrian caught her hand, holding it when she pulled away.

"What are you doing?"

He forced her to slow her pace. "Taking a leisurely stroll."

"It is unseemly!"

"Unseemly? Madam, you would faint then if you walked through the less reputable parts of town. Even on my way here, I saw two young people by the side of the road doing the unseemly."

She stopped trying to pull away and Hadrian admired her long fingers. "What were they doing?"

"What do you think?" He rolled his eyes and her cheeks reddened.

"Well. That truly is unseemly." She laughed and squeezed his hand, feeling his fingers as well. Just that small bit of intimacy made him speechless.

"Where else have you been?"

Hadrian looked up at the sky. "Well, recently I went North up to Lordsburg."

"Why?"

"To find some books. I succeeded, but couldn't read them."

"Oh, an old language?"

He laughed. "I haven't come across a language yet that I could decipher, given time. There was an enchantment on the books, or on the pages, that made it so the words wouldn't stay still. They swam from page to page like fish."

Lilan laughed and looked at him. "Very funny."

"It's true. You could go there right now and see them."

She paused, trying to decide if he was lying. "Magic?"

"Well, yes. I am something of a wizard you know."

That made her stop, though she didn't try to escape from his grip. "You're joking. You must be a merchant or banker."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you look the part."

Hadrian passed his free hand across his face and grinned at her. "You should not give your eyes such blind trust. Sorry for the pun."

Lilan stared at Lilan, one smiling and the other did not at all believe what she was seeing.

"I can do your voice too, well, sort of." It came out too high. Hadrian smiled and changed back.

She was quiet for the rest of the walk, but still holding his hand. Neither could decide if it was a comfortable silence or not. Hadrian gave her a smile and they went inside.

They sat down in the kitchen and a servant went to inform Lord Walsh that he had a visitor.

"Did you learn magic?" She finally asked.

He nodded.

"Can anyone learn?"

"You mean, can you learn? Yes." He shrugged. "But, there are more interesting things in life."

"Why don't more people know magic?"

Hadrian laughed. "Are you sure that they don't? It isn't really something to be discussed in polite society."

"Why not?"

"Witch hunting mostly. I suspect everyone is rather embarrassed about the whole thing."

"What was it like?"

"A dark time. Mobs in the street, burned-out houses, that kind of thing. The Walsh family lived through it. Your own great uncle and aunt were drowned in barrels of holy water. Though you won't hear your father talk about it."

"Does he know about you?"

"Yes." Hadrian hesitated. "In part, that is the reason for our marriage."

"What kind of reason is that?" She sounded offended.

"To make me an ally. To placate me."

"And will it work?" Lilan asked, almost too low for him to hear.

"No." He said just as quietly. The servant returned at the same moment and Hadrian stood up.

"Well, Miss Walsh, I hope to see you at the wedding."

"Are you looking forward to it?" She asked shyly. It caused Hadrian to laugh. He winked, then followed the servant to the study.

Chapter Four: Sara Tonic

Horses did not get along with Sara, so she figured that it was just as well that the caravan did not supply her with one. It seemed that the beasts were rather uncommon, actually. There were two riders, both gentlemen, judging by their clothing and disdain for everyone who were forced to walk. The wagons themselves were pulled by oxen.

The two men had a large family who rode in the wagons, along with their belongings. These people obviously thought that, whatever cargo they carried, was very valuable. They imagined the men, and women, hired to guard them would be the ones to cut their throats in the night. So, in the end, no one traveled comfortably on the way to Snowy Down.

The caravan paid each of their guards a silver dime per day. It was a good way to make a living and most of the people working for the caravan were old hands at it. There were a few grizzled veterans who laughed at the passenger's concerns. They told them they were in more danger of a dragon attack than highwaymen. Around the fire, one named Haywood told stories of traveling the High Road, outside of Snaketown.

"I've seen more fighting than most professional soldiers, down there, and for half the pay. Don't you worry lass, you'll be as safe as a merchant's coin with me."

It was the last night of the journey, which had Sara on edge. In her experience, on any ill-fated mission, the worst was always saved for the end. She was sitting in the shadows, wrapped in a blanket that smelled like horse, with the plasma pistol warm in her grip. She did this each night, relying on the caffeine pills to keep her going. The only sleep she would get was a light one, interrupted by the slightest breeze.

One of the caravan guards had wandered off into the woods "for a piss" and had not come back. Someone very unfriendly was out there. Sara did not worry or put too much thought to a plan. These bandits, or whoever they were, were after either the cargo and whatever the passengers had on them. Sara crouched in her hiding place and waited.

A few minutes later, men emerged from the treeline. They were dressed much better than thieves, black suit coats and white shirts. Assassins then, she thought. There were a dozen of them, maybe more. They moved silently into the center of the camp with practiced ease. The moon was hidden by clouds, but they could apparently see through the dark. They raised pistols and swords, and began killing. The sounds of the screams and igniting black powder filled the air.

Everyone who drew breath was a target, women, children, and caravanners. Sara felt a small amount of pity for them. The two gentlemen, apparently the targets, had really pissed someone off. The killers were fast and efficient, it must have cost a good bit of coin to hire them.

All of the assassins remained standing once the work was done. One had been stabbed in the leg, but he did not seem too bothered by it. Sara had decided before it began that this clearly was not her fight, so she remained motionless. The men looted the bodies for valuables. In the wagons they found things they liked. After a few minutes, they walked into the forest and disappeared as quickly as they had come.

Sara walked quickly away without looking back. She did not look for valuables to steal from the corpses. It was not guilt, exactly, that she felt. If she had tried to interfere, she would be dead too. The only thing she could have done was try to take as many as she could down with her. She felt angry, both with herself and the men in suits; angry enough to forget that she had not been paid the silver dimes promised. Her thoughts were bent on avenging her wounded pride. I should avenge those people too, she reminded herself.

Moving by herself, Sara could move faster than the caravan. She marched throughout the night, taking the last of the caffeine pills. At last, when the sun was beginning to rise, she made it to the edge of the city. Sara rented a room at the first inn she came across and slept until the sun was setting. She felt weakened from the caffeine withdrawals and from the relentless pace of the night before. But, she also felt relief: she was alive. She had survived against all odds.

Across the street was a tavern, filled with drunken patrons. Sara felt she could use a drink. She straightened her jacket and checked her pistol, then walked inside. At the bar she nursed a single ale and listened to the gossip. Apparently, it was Lord James Walsh and his family that were murdered, along with an entire caravan. It was widely suspected that the murders were the work of the second oldest of the Walsh brothers, James, who nicely profited from it all. Sara noted the name to memory, but did not give the matter any further consideration. What had caught her attention was the name 'Hadrian'. It was a large bald man talking to his friends. Sara came over and sat down in the empty seat across from him.

"Hey there, pretty lady." He gave her a wink. Sara had seen much more disgusting things, but he was far from appealing. Still, she forced herself to smile at him.

"Hey yourself. What are we talking about?"

The man on her right, missing his front teeth, grinned at her. "The darkest secrets in the city, love. Ones that make kids cry out in the night and make grown men go white."

"Nearly a hundred years ago, this whole city was thick with witches, and others of their like." The bald man said and the others all nodded.

Sara noticed there was another woman at the table. She was better dressed than anyone in the tavern, an elaborate black dress. Plenty hidden pockets for weapons. The woman was watching Sara closely, but said nothing.

"Finally, enough was enough. We burned them all, or at least, most of them. There are still some hiding about, perhaps in this very tavern." The man with the missing teeth said, his hand moving to rest on Sara's knee. She let it stay and even leaned in to talk to him.

"Do you know any of these witches?"

"No, not me. Well, not personally. But we've all heard what happened to the Walsh family." He nodded nervously to the woman. "They of course deserved what they got, and more."

The woman laughed quietly and gave the impression of a smile. Sara only caught it from the corner of her eye. She studied the other woman more carefully. Her black hair neatly arranged and pinned up with silver, with a face as sharp as a razor, and she was attractive, even Sara had to admit.

"Did you say something about a man named Hadrian?" She asked innocently and cleared her throat. "I sure am thirsty."

The toothless man jumped up and went to the bar.

"He's moving up in society, marrying one of the Walsh daughters." The bald man said, stretching his shoulders.

The woman was now paying very close attention to Lilan.

"Is he noble born?"

"Hells no, but just as bad, getting into bed with them. I'd like to see the day where he swings from the end of rope, both him and his new wife."

The man returned with her drink and Sara stood up. "Let's go some place quieter." She did not like the woman in the black dress and wanted to get away from her.

"Sure, sure." He grinned and led her to the back of the tavern. It was just as loud, but they were out of sight of the other woman.

Sara did not drink whatever he had brought her, it was probably drugged. She set it down and looked him in the eye. "Got any money?"

"I've got enough." He said happily.

"Then let's find a back alley." She said, leading the way out the back door. Another couple was doing what she had suggested against the far wall. It did not look particularly comfortable.

Sara led him far from the other two, who would not have noticed much anyway. The toothless man started to unbutton his pants. She drew her pistol and aimed it him. "Quit that. Don't yell either or you'll be dead before anyone hears it."

He looked at her furiously, but stayed silent. It was very intimidating gun.

"Hand over your purse." She punched him in the side of the head when he reached for his hidden knife. "Slowly, asshole." He handed her the leather bag.

"Huh, mostly copper. You can keep that." She took out five dimes, stamped with a lion and a eagle on either side. The rest she handed back. "This is payment. In exchange, you are going to tell me about that woman in black." Sara pushed the gun against his chest. "And this is keep you honest."

The man cleared his throat. "She's one of them. The Black Coats, or whatever they call themselves these days. She goes around to the taverns every night, looking for drunk nobles. Then they go into a back alley together and she kills them."

"Black Coats? Dress fancy do they?"

He nodded. "Yeah, mostly rich kids. Though there are some that scare the shit out of me. She's one of them. Slit your throat if you even look at her wrong. She hates sympathizers more than anything. Don't say anything good about the nobles, or you'll be next."

Sara thought for a moment. She knew she wanted to kill this woman, but was not too sure why. The world just seemed like it would be a better place afterwards. She took the gun away from his chest, but did not lower it.

"Go back inside. Brag about me, or whatever. And mention a couple of drunk lads, fancy looking, out here puking their guts out. If you don't..." She grinned dangerously.

"Okay." He said, thankful to get away.

"And give me your knife."

The woman came out a few minutes later, gliding like a shadow. Sara had pressed herself against the wall and was now behind her.

"Heard you were pretty good with a knife." Sara said, not moving from the wall. In her right hand she had the dagger, her other rested on the holstered pistol, in case the woman reached for a gun.

She turned around slowly, a knife materializing in her hand. A killer's smile on her lips. "Sympathizer?" She hissed the words like a snake.

"No, I just don't like your face. Or your people."

The woman nodded slowly, then the knife was suddenly flying through the air. Sara had already detached herself from the wall and was too far to the right. The dagger would have caught her in throat otherwise.

"You are good. Your eyes gave you away though." Another knife sailed through the air. They were balanced, so they didn't spin. Sara fell to all fours like a cat and rolled forward. She brought her own blade up so fast that the air whistled around it. The woman's dress was cut up the front and there was a slash across her face. She had moved back enough to avoid most of the cut though.

She hissed angrily at Sara and stabbed at her with another dagger. Sara danced aside, once, twice, and a third time. Then she moved to the woman's left side and stabbed into her lower back. The fight was nearly over now. The woman was bleeding out, quickly. Her face became a mask of terror and pain. Sara kicked her in the back of one knee and the woman went down.

"Now it wasn't very fair of me, picking a fight with you. I'm much more dangerous than you could have guessed, but then again, you don't fight fair either." The woman passed out a few moments later.

Sara rifled through her pockets. The woman had a small fortune in silver coins, more of her throwing daggers, and a wickedly curved knife. Sara smiled and took it all with her, leaving behind the borrowed knife, sticking in the woman's heart.

In the morning, after spending the night in a stable in case someone came looking for her, Sara received directions to the Walsh estate. After hearing so much about this man Hadrian, she wanted to seek him out. She headed for the Southern edge of the city, a section everyone referred to as Oldtown. It was the oldest part of Snowy Down, and it was where all of the important nobles lived. At the Walsh place, a servant gave her further directions, these ones to Mr. Hadrian's residence. It was on the Western edge of the city. New buildings were built out there. Sara sighed and cursed this foolish quest. Then she started walking.

It was late afternoon by the time she reached the house. She had eaten on the way and passed the time by memorizing as much of the city as she could. The buildings used by the public were in the city center. Places like the market, a multitude of churches and temples, city hall, and a large park green were all there. The South side was were the nobles and their servants lived. The West was for wealthy merchants and craftsmen. The North side was for everyone else. No one who wanted to survive the night went to the Eastern part of the city. Inns, taverns, brothels, and anything else you could want were spread throughout the city without apparent plan. Many people agreed that the North side, often called the Common Quarter, was where the best brothels were.

The Hadrian House was modest in size and in style. It did not draw the eye, but was not unpleasant to look at. Sara had to circle the block a few times before finding it. She decided that it was a very sensible place to live. If anyone came after Mr. Hadrian, they would have to take an extra hour to do so. She was annoyed, however, with how long it took to find. Her feet hurt, her legs hurt, and her back hurt.

Sara was granted a meeting with Mr. Hadrian right away, which she did not expect.

"Good evening Miss." He said from behind his desk, standing politely.

"Sara Tonic." She said, then shrugged. "Call me Sara."

"And you can call me Hadrian. Rather than talk here, let's go and find something to eat."

She nodded and he led her downstairs to the kitchen. He sat at the table while the cook, a large and elderly lady, worked swiftly behind him. Sara studied him for a moment. Much like the house, there was nothing about him that drew the eye. He was in his mid-thirties, though he had a brooding look in his eye which made him seem older. Short brown hair, no beard, a plain face, and medium proportions. Not really much of wizard. He looked like an accountant, boring and ordinary. She smiled. Of course, that was the point.

"You obviously seem to have me figured out." He said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Maybe." Sara crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair. "Have you considered you might be in danger?"

Hadrian frowned deeply. "From whom?"

"Well-dressed killers, calling themselves the Black Coats. They stalk the streets at night and seem happy to kill as many nobles as they can find. Soon you will join their list of targets."

He was quiet for a moment, thinking.

"Why have you sought me out?"

"I heard of you in Lordsburg and I was curious."

"So you followed me?"

She shrugged. "It's really more of a strange coincidence. Your name keeps coming up. And here I am, stranded in this place, perhaps for good."

Hadrian raised an eyebrow, but kept his questions to himself. "Here you are. Is your curiosity satisfied?"

"I was expecting a beard and a staff."

He rolled his eyes.

"Not that it matters. I don't like these men in suits and I'm guessing that you don't either."

"That's it? That's enough of a reason to hunt these Black Coats?"

"I've been starting fights all my life. I don't see any reason to stop now."

Hadrian thought for a long time, evaluating her in some way. "If you are looking for employment, then I could use a bodyguard. My wife will need one. I suppose I had better hire a few house guards as well."

"How much do you pay?"

"For you? A half-dollar per day."

She whistled. "Deal. As long as you help me get these guys, right?"

"Agreed." He stuck out his hand and she shook it, coming away with a large silver coin. "There's your pay for the first day. Go and buy new clothes, those ones smell like a sewer."

The cook put down two plates, piled with fish and potatoes.

"So I'll be staying here then?"

"Yes, you're own room and everything. After we eat, I have some business to attend to. Feel free to take the night off."

"Thanks boss."

Hadrian grunted and began eating.

Chapter Five: James Wix

The Ardent Wind was tying up alongside the docks outside of Queen's Cross. It was a deep natural harbor, which made it the best port for hundreds of miles. It was a few hours before sunset as Captain James Wix made his way down the gangplank. Two of his marines flanked him. The ship's Quartermaster, Mr. Howe, was already speaking with a few of the port officials. They nodded to Wick as he strode past. His business was with a trader inside the town.

Officially, he was carrying a large variety of legal goods, bolts of cloth and the like. Concealed in the smuggler's hold however, was two hundred pounds of pepper. It was illegal to transport such goods without a license. The man he was meeting with found this only a minor problem. Wix wandered around town for a bit before finding the Merchant's Inn, the best lodging available.

The trader he was looking for was eating his dinner of smoked salmon, beside him was a man drinking a mug of tea. "Go get yourselves a drink." The marines walked over the bar and Wix sat across from the two men. "Good evening, Mr. Black." He said politely.

Of course it was not his actual name, but one does not use real names for this kind of thing. He was a minor Lord, if Wix had to make a guess. His clothing and demeanor were too fine for a merchant.

"Good evening, Captain."

The other man only frowned. Wix looked at him for a moment before realizing that he had seen him before. But where? The two exchanged a knowing glance and then ignored each other completely. It was after all, how these kinds of things were done.

"The ship is docked just now and we're unloading the cargo."

"Excellent. My associate will be helping you to get everything through customs." He slid a leather pouch across the table. "Half now, the other half upon delivery. As agreed."

"Perfect." Wix smiled. "A pleasure doing business with you, sir." He stood up and shook the hand of Mr. Black.

"I hope to see you again, Captain."

"As do I, sir."

The brooding man stood up as well and folded his arms across his chest, but continued to say nothing. Wix waved the marines over the the four of them left the inn.

"A captain now, huh?" Hadrian asked.

Wix shook his head. "I'm still not used to it."

"You were born to it, can't see you doing anything else." He handed Wix a number of rolled-up documents. "Here are all the papers. You are delivering sacks of flour. Everyone likes flour, nice and boring."

"Not much of a profit."

Hadrian smiled at him. He was in his late thirties, but looked younger when he wasn't frowning. Or brooding. He loved to brood. "Merchants make money in the long run. Safest way to make a fortune, slowly, so that no one notices."

That caused Wix to laugh and say under his breath, "and they call us the criminals."

"Hmph. Speak for yourself. I am a gentleman, reduced to these lowly chores against my will."

"Come on, part of you enjoys all of this cloak and dagger business."

Hadrian was quiet for a moment. "Desperate times, my boy."

"You and me both. No one says we can't enjoy ourselves a bit though. Look at the bright side."

"Which is?"

"Interesting company and big guns?"

They both laughed.

"How have you been keeping yourself?" Hadrian asked.

Wix gestured with empty hands. "Winter had us sailing in the South of here. Captain Murdock has been sitting outside of Snaketown now for more than four months."

"Why?"

"Some trouble with the pirate fleet West of the straights. If he moves against them, they'll scatter. If he moves on, they'll attack the city."

"And here you are." Hadrian said it as a half-question.

"Yep. Murdock wants the new men trained, and all of us old crew to learn how to sail a ship like this." He pointed to the Ardent Wind.

"By smuggling?"

"Why not? Makes more money than shipping flour. Anyway, I can't get into the politics of the whole Snaketown thing. I really don't know all that much anyway."

Hadrian laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "I've figured it out already. Would you like to hear it?"

Wix sighed. "I forgot that you could do that."

"What? Use my head? You have one too, try not to forget that."

"You were saying?"

"Well, as long as the Lyat is guarding Snaketown without pay, they won't pay the cost to arm a fleet. Captain Murdock made a mistake when declaring the city under his protection."

"He was trying to do the right thing." Wix protested.

"And he is succeeded marvelously, too much so. The city was weak before you all showed up and you are not helping matters."

"What would you do? Let all of those people be enslaved by pirates?"

"I'm sure Captain Murdock is doing exactly what I would suggest."

"Which is?"

"Why don't you use your own head for that one, Captain?"

The business concluded quickly soon after. They passed through customs without even a suspicious glance from the port officials. No bribe either, which was always necessary. Wix could not figure it out, but Hadrian turned the pepper into flour. He changed it back inside the warehouse and handed the rest of the money to Wix.

"Just tell me how you did it."

Hadrian sighed. "I'll give you a hint. Don't believe everything you see." And with that, he turned around and left.

Now that the ship had unloaded its cargo, they would all spend a week or two in the port town, while Wix found another the crew their next job. Negotiating would be the difficult part. Each of the major families controlled a monopoly on certain goods, officially. They looked the other way when it came to smuggling because they were all doing it. With the merchants cut out completely, along with the controlling of the market, profits were higher than ever.

Wix had heard a few of the more ambitious merchants were hiring smugglers of their own, but the port officials were much more vigilant with them. The nobles were the only ones making any money in the sea trade, and things were getting violent. Cargo was seized at night by masked men and ships were sometimes sunk. Worse, no one seemed to be able to take control of the situation. The nobles were divided amongst themselves and the Watch were spread too thin to stop the random attacks.

"Captain, a whole bunch of shady types coming this way, wearing masks." Mr. Howe said as he ran inside the warehouse, where Wix and his two marines were unloading the pepper from the wagon. The sun had finally set, darkness engulfing the port. A boy was beside Mr. Howe, fifteen year-old William, the Assistant Quartermaster.

"They probably want the cargo. Marines, grab your weapons and come with me." Wix walked outside, Mr. Howe next to him and William trailing behind. The two marines drew out their hidden M16's and checked the magazines, flanking Wix on either side.

Men, and women, in masks filled the entire street. He counted at least twenty, all wearing black rags across their faces. Some carried torches, but most seemed comfortable in the dark. Wix had his pistol out and aimed it at the crowd, the other three men doing the same with their weapons. Mr. Howe had only a flintlock pistol, but he looked steady.

"Stand aside smuggler!" One of the raiders yelled. More added their voices, mostly curses. "We want that cargo! That's all!"

"I have no problem gunning you all down!" Wix yelled back. "Someone just make a move!"

His confidence must have shaken them somewhat. There was a pause. Then they remembered that it was five-to-one. The yelling started again. A stone was thrown and hit Wix in the arm. Weapons were being drawn and pistols cocked.

"We gave you warning." He muttered. "Take your time and make your shots count. Fire!" He said to his men. There was an explosion of gunfire and a cloud of acidic smoke from the pistol. The M16's made sharp cracking noises as they fired. His handgun jumped in his hands as he fired steadily into the crowd.

Wix emptied the clip and looked for more enemies. The superior weapons had made short work of the mob. No one was left standing, few were even still alive. They were moaning, some screaming, in pain. The marines changed out their ammunition, keeping the old clips.

"Mr. Howe, William, help me unload the rest of the cargo. Marines, secure the area, and put those poor bastards out of their misery."

Everyone jumped to obey and in a ten minutes the wagon was rolling away from the warehouse. As an afterthought, Wix ordered that the attackers' weapons to be looked over. Anything with a blade, and a few pistols, were thrown into the wagon. Mr. Howe and William drove, while the rest rode in the back.

"One hell of a fight, Captain." Mr. Howe said, not looking over his shoulder.

"Yeah, you could say that again. I forgot to ask, no one was hit right?"

They shook their heads 'no'.

"Good." The two marines smiled grimly at each other, but remained silent. Wix noticed that neither was very talkative. They had their guns out and looking out into the shadows, watching for threats.

"We staying here, sir? Even after the attack?" Howe asked.

"Yep. We need a cargo. No real point of sailing without one."

"I suppose so, sir." He did not seem reassured.

"Don't worry. After that, they'll think twice about messing with us again."

"Damn straight, sir." Said one of the marines, Wix couldn't tell which one.

Wix was invited to lunch the following day with a Mr. Green, who even Wix knew was Lord Thompson Gange. The two were sitting outside, eating at a very expensive cafe in Snowy Down. It had taken Wix three hours to arrive by carriage.

"I heard about what happened the other night." Mr. Green said with a wry twist of the mouth.

Wix only nodded, taking a sip of his tea.

"I did not think any smuggler, even one as reputable as yourself, would risk his life for goods he was already paid for."

"Dumb pride, sir. I wouldn't do it again and was lucky none of my men were hurt."

"I know it is rude of me to say, but I don't believe you, Captain. I do not think you are intimidated by these masked men. Evidenced by last night, you do not need to be."

Wix grunted. He knew that Lord Gange was really impressed only with the M16's, not that he knew even what they looked like. But four men against twenty? Anyone could realize that there was an unfair advantage, for one side to walk away without a scratch.

"The city could use your help, Captain."

"You mean, you could use my help. And I suspect you are right. I have a ship though, and a crew, and my first duty is to them."

Mr. Green spread his hand out in front of himself, smiling even more. "And how best would your crew be taken care of? Smugglers make a good profit, but not good enough. A patron could be much more useful."

"Mercenary work?" Wix smiled. The idea was not unattractive. However, they would have to be careful. Their ammunition was limited. "I will have to report to my superior, and ask for permission."

"I thought you might say that. It so happens that I have cargo that needs to be moved. From here, a load of salted fish and other foodstuffs. On the way back, sugar and citrus from Snaketown."

"In exchange for?"

Mr. Green smiled. "You are a shrewd man, Captain. In addition to payment, let's say one hundred dollars. In exchange you will stay in port for two weeks. Keep the peace in Queen's Cross. Then, after two weeks, our deal is done. You go and continue your smuggling."

Wix nodded thoughtfully. One hundred dollars was enough to buy and outfit a ship. The deal was good, damn good. "Keep the peace?"

"Regular patrols and sentry duty at certain warehouses."

"No raids." It was not a question.

"No riads." Mr. Green agreed. "I've already talked with the port officials and the Watch. You'll all be working alongside each other."

"It all sounds too good to be true." Wix was still hesitant.

"Trust me, I don't give out charity. With two weeks of stability, I will make as much money in that time that I make in a year. Demand is higher than ever. Plus, I have a feeling the raiders will make a move. If they can break this peace, then they might scare enough nobles so that their demands are met. Prepare for the worst, Captain. And remember, our deal only stands if you keep the peace. Otherwise you won't seen a penny, and you will have to find different cargo."

Mr. Green stuck out his hand and Wix shook it.

"We have a deal, Mr. Green. Not even a fistfight on these docks, for two weeks."

Chapter Six: Hadrian Walsh

Hadrian found it ironic, or perhaps horrifying, that the same faith that had once denounced men with his abilities as Evil was now blessing his marriage. The priest, backed by six acolytes, was taking the whole thing very seriously. Lilan looked nervous and nodded in agreement with the words the priest was saying. They were mostly instructions on how to live her life. Hadrian wanted to yawn. He had always wondered what it would feel like to get married. Not to discredit the woman, but he was bored. They had been standing for what felt like an hour. His feet hurt in his badly-fitting shoes and he had to piss.

Once it ended, he thought it would be amusing to turn both himself and his new wife into birds and fly away. He decided against it though. People congratulated the two of them as they stood on display in front of the golden altar.

"Good show, sir, good show!" Someone he did not recognize said to him while shaking his hand.

"Well, thanks, I worked really hard at it." They both laughed at his joke, although it was not funny. Hadrian then began making all kinds of jokes.

He elbowed Lilan gently. "These people will laugh at anything."

"For you maybe." She said, irritated. "I keep getting advice on how to run the household."

He shrugged. "Well, someone will have to run it. I'll be too much too busy, with adventures and all that."

She elbowed him back, still smiling, but her eyes were daggers.

"Hmm." He said appreciatively, then leaned over and kissed her. It was fast and caught her by surprise. When he pulled back after a few seconds she stood there with her mouth open. The people around them cheered. He grinned. "They even cheer for that. I should get married more often!" There was more laughter and Hadrian did a bow. Lilan rolled her eyes.

The dinner was expensive and well-prepared, but neither of them ate much. Both drank enough wine to be sociable and there was a bit of dancing. Hadrian had never been skilled at either, but he tried anyway. The shadow of the eldest Walsh brother's death, and his family's, hung over the celebration, though most of the guests were trying to put it behind them. Hadrian was not above, but instead below suspicion. He gained nothing by the spilling of Walsh blood, but he still wanted to stay well away from it all. Someone would have to answer for those deaths.

Lord Walsh sat down next to him, smelling strongly of wine.

"Please, no more wedding cliches." Hadrian said, cutting his father-in-law off before he could start.

"Fair enough." The man sighed. "Have you, um, noticed anything strange. Or anyone?" He looked badly frightened.

Hadrian shook his head. "There is nothing to worry about, we have guards posted outside."

The older man was silent for a long time. "I know. Still can't sleep soundly though. These Black Coat people, they're new. There used to just be thugs, hired by angry merchants."

"Any suspects?" Hadrian tried to smile, but the topic was grim. Lord Walsh and his family could very well be targets. If someone wanted to make a political statement, a wedding would be the place to do it. He shrugged. "Well, I could arrange our own investigation." He thought of Sara, the strange woman he had hired the other day. Even now she was probably lurking around somewhere.

"Yes, good idea. The city watch has made promises, but I don't want to risk anything. Start a full investigation, I'll get you the funds."

Hadrian nodded. "There are no guarantees."

"Of course not." Lord Walsh stood up. "Well, enjoy the rest of the wedding."

"I think I've lost my taste for celebration." He stood up as well, initially to be polite, but now he wanted a locked down between himself and the rest of the world.

Hadrian found Lilan talking with a group of old women and promptly rescued her. "I think it's time we made our escape."

She nodded, somewhat reluctantly.

"I resisted in the temple, but now..." He held his arms up and addressed the crowd in a voice much louder than his own, magically amplified. "Ladies and gentlemen! Wow, the acoustics in here are impressive... anyway, thank you all for coming. Thank you Lord and Lady Walsh for hosting, I'm sure it wasn't cheap. Um, Lilan, would you like to say something?"

Usually it was customary only for the groom to say the farewells for the evening, but Hadrian was not big on tradition.

"Oh, okay. Thank you everyone for the good wishes and the advice. I hope I will not need all of it." She paused for the laughter. "And don't stop the celebrations on our account." Behind her Hadrian winked and there was more laughter, and a few lewd jokes. He bowed to the crowd, inviting Lilan to do the same.

It was also customary to lead your lady away by the arm, but Hadrian took her hand instead. She blushed prettily and they stepped outside. Doves rushed around them into the night air.

"I said I couldn't resist."

There were guards milling about and a few gave greetings. Hadrian returned them, but he was watching for sudden attackers. Sara was leaning against the carriage smoking a cigar. When they came up to her she took off her hat and bowed.

"My Lord and Lady." She said sarcastically.

"You can use my first name as long as you stop mocking me." Hadrian growled.

She smiled. "How about 'sir'? Grumpy tonight, sir?" She turned to Lilan. "Congratulations ma'am, on the wedding I mean."

Lilan did not smile, but nodded. "Thank you. We haven't been introduced."

"Sara Tonic, ma'am." She bowed again. "And you are Lilan Walsh. Anyone ever call you Lilly?"

"Um, no."

"Good. I'm sure we will be the best of friends." She said with a tone that was either honest or sarcastic. A tone that takes years of practice. Sara looked at Hadrian. "Shall we be off, sir?"

He grumbled something closer to an ancient curse than to words, then helped his new wife into the carriage. "Try not to let highwaymen overtake us." He said before closing the door. Sara laughed loudly enough to be heard inside the carriage. There was the crack of leather and the box on wheel surged forward.

"Bloody hells!" Hadrian swore loudly, bouncing on the seat.

"She's very strange." Lilan said neutrally.

He shook his head. "I should take a horse whip to her. But, she's useful."

"As a driver?"

"Bodyguard. For you. I hope you like her company, and her driving, she'll be your constant companion. Even at home. Sara has a habit of hanging around."

"How fun."

Hadrian shrugged. "There are worse people to spend your time with." He thought for a moment. "I am also going to use her to track your uncle's killers."

Lilan nodded, but grimaced. "I wish you hadn't brought that up. I had just put it out of my mind."

"Would you like some advice?"

She nodded again.

"Don't put it out of your mind. Keep it with you, always. Learn to be wary at all times. No magic or bodyguards can save you from ignorance."

"Oh." She looked down at her hands.

"Fear will become another one of your companions. A friend, almost. Dependable at least. Listen to it and you will stay alive. Don't worry, you'll learn."

"I will?" Lilan brightened at that.

"Of course. I didn't get married so that you could run my house. I hire people for that. The next adventure that shows its ugly head: we'll be off."

"What about children and all that?"

Hadrian raised his eyebrows. "It will either be children or adventure, for both of us."

She reddened. "Well, I can't exactly choose. I know that, at least."

"Wizards can be somewhat particular about when their women have children."

"How?"

"Don't worry about it." He shrugged. "I could explain it, but it really isn't necessary."

"Okay." She shrugged too, then stopped herself. "Ladies shouldn't shrug."

"Is it unseemly?" Hadrian asked with a mocking smile.

"No, but it is rather rude."

"Well, you'll have to be careful around Sara, she's full of bad habits."

"Hey! I am not!" She yelled from outside.

"Are you listening to us, you shrew!?"

"Well there's nothing else to do!"

"Do not eavesdrop on me!" His face was now red with anger.

"Then shut the window!" She cursed at someone in the road.

Hadrian waved his hand and the window slammed shut. He breathed deeply and tried to get his pulse to slow down.

"I think I kind of like her." Lilan said and laughed into her hand. "You turned as red as a beet."

He grumbled something about turning both of them into beets.

"Oh, you can't do that! Can you?"

"Only for an hour." He admitted.

"I wonder what it would like to be a plant."

Hadrian laughed. "We were warned against it. When you turn back, you'll think like a beet. And probably hate the taste of them."

"Oh, I don't like beets anyway."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Never take away reasons a wizard shouldn't do something, my dear."

She crossed her arms and frowned. "Have you ever turned anyone into anything they weren't supposed to be?"

Hadrian nodded. "Just one time. I turned a friend into a rat. Now he loves cheese. It really isn't a nice thing to do. In fact, it's the kind of the thing that gets you burned inside your own house by an angry mob."

Lilan was quiet for a long time, thinking. "Does it bother you that we only met once before our wedding?"

Hadrian scratched his chin, freshly shaved only a few hours before. "Bother me? No, but I suppose it is a bit odd. The thing is, I never really gave marriage any thought before this."

"Are you happy with the match?"

"Yes. At first, I was enticed of the political gain. It wouldn't be much, but it's something."

She rolled her eyes. "Wow, how romantic."

"What does marriage have to do with romance? A silly concept, I always thought."

"Love isn't silly!"

Hadrian declined to argue that point. "But, if I didn't like you, then we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"And if I didn't like you?"

"Same thing. I wouldn't have married you."

She frowned. "It shouldn't have all been up to you."

"Probably true. Lucky for you, I took many more things into account than simply your political status." Hadrian was rather proud with his noble intentions. Lilan was not as pleased.

"What a life! To wait around while men judge you and then be happy when they choose you."

He laughed. "Well, life is nothing if not unfair."

She continued to frown. "What else did you take into account?"

"You were argumentative and you didn't complain. And determined. You'll need that, for where we're going. I'd feel guilty if you lived the rest of your life in misery."

"Hmph. I might still."

"Well, that's your choice."

The carriage came to a sudden halt. Hadrian opened the window. "Are we home or under attack?"

"Why would I stop if we were under attack?" Sara swung down and opened the door. "Welcome home, sir and madam."

Both rolled their eyes and stepped out. The servants assembled outside along with the two hired guards. The three servants all began to cheer when they spotted Lilan. She bowed her head and smiled. "Has my luggage arrived?"

"Oh, of course ma'am. If it hadn't, I would have gone and brought it myself." Mrs. Blaine, the maid, said proudly. Her son Samuel nodded his head in agreement.

"Let's all get inside where it's warm!" Hadrian shouted and everyone went into the house. Sara appeared at his elbow.

"Hey boss. Just so you know, I saw a few Black Coats out in the street. They saw us pass by and looked ready to make trouble."

"What stopped them?"

She shrugged. "My winning personality? Anyway, be careful. Sleep with one eye open."

"I will. Thanks."

"It's my job." Sara paused and winked. "Have a good night, sir."

"My things were put in your room by mistake." Lilan was wearing a much simpler dress, but still not a thing for sleeping in.

"Our room, actually."

"We'll share?" She looked shocked, as if he had suggested they also sleep with a shark in the bed.

"Of course, one of the perks of marriage." He sighed. "We can argue about this later. I'm not in the mood."

Hadrian sat on the bed and took off his too-tight shoes. Once they were off he let out a breath of relief. "I will never wear those again. Feel free to only wear things that are comfortable, by the way. There is a reason wizards are always thought of as wearing robes. Robes are comfortable."

Lilan stood in the doorway looking at him, a nervous and puzzled look on her face.

"Shut the door would you? And why is this house always so cold?" He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. The room warmed up to the temperature of a nice summer day. He continued to take off clothing at a leisurely pace.

Lilan closed the door and walked to one of the dressers. "Um, what are you doing?"

Hadrian looked up. "Right, you probably have questions. It'll be easier to show you rather than explain it all. First undress."

"What?"

"No hurry or anything. You can wash up if you want, but it won't bother me either way."

She inched towards the basin of water and splashed herself about the face and neck. Then she turned around angrily.

"Can't I get a little privacy?"

"No." He threw his pants across the room and walked over to her. She was shocked that he was naked and was now much redder than any beet. "I don't like to see you so uncomfortable." He said softly. "But, I also don't exactly mind."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Take a guess." He moved even closer. She glanced down and then snapped her head back up. Lilan was so angry she was grinding her teeth together. "I'll make you pay for embarrassing me so."

He laughed. "And I'm sure I'll live to regret it, but for now..." His hands rested on her hips, though there was so much fabric it was like touching a couch. A few words and the clothes began undressing themselves.

"Handy one, that spell." He pulled her close and kissed her, working slowly to open her lips. There was an exciting resistance for a few seconds, then she gave in. He explored slowly with his tongue, touching hers only hesitantly.

Hadrian moved his hands from either side of her face to the back of her head and to the place between her shoulder blades. Lilan murmured something and he responded with a growl deep in his throat. Her tongue pushed at his with urgency. He slid his hand to her lower back and pushed so that they were pressed together.

She said something else and suddenly they were kissing frantically, neither willing to come up for air. Both were breathing heavily - almost panting. Hadrian used both hands to sift through her hair, soft and stringy. He pressed against her scalp and she arched her back. Finally they released each other from the kiss and admired each other passionately.

"Come on." He led her over to the bed and lightly pushed her onto it, then climbed atop of her, careful to keep most of his weight on his knees.

Lilan was watching him closely, her green eyes blazing with intensity. He brushed his fingertips of one hand down her neck, feeling the racing beat of her heart. The hand wandered downwards and slowly climbed the slope of her breast. His other hand slid up her ribcage and cupped the other one. Two hands were pressed against his back, pulling him closer. Lilan shifted her hips and sighed happily. He lowered his waist against her own, so that now most of his weight was on his elbows.

She lifted her head and brushed her lips against his. Hadrian remained still, letting her take the lead. Meanwhile, he reached one hand down between her legs. She yelped in surprise and squirmed uncomfortably. Hadrian hummed to reassure her and kissed her neck. He was using two fingers to probe her gently. Her reply was a few half-said words. He sucked at her earlobe and increased speed with his right hand.

After a few minutes she was gasping, and at the same time giggling somewhat. Hadrian drew back his hand and use it to guide himself into her. She grunted, then relaxed and ran her hands through his hair. He moved about with some difficulty, at first it was a rather tight fit, but that only excited him further. He had to control himself so that he didn't go too fast.

A half-hour later they lay side by side, Lilan curled up against him. He rested his hand on her hip, which was pointed up in the air.

"Well, that was fun." She said, pushing the hair away from her face.

Hadrian smiled and nodded. He was feeling lazy and content, but did not have much to say. There were worries on his mind that he wrestled with quietly.

"Not at all what I expected. And you made the funniest face! There at the end."

"You were no better." He growled, then laughed. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't such a grumpy old man."

"You aren't that old."

"Oh? I thought you said I was old enough to be your father?"

She kissed him lightly on the lips. "I was lying."

"I don't believe you." He nudged her nose with his own. "But thanks for saying that."

"Why do you think you're old?"

"I am. Wizards age slowly, it must be the magic or something."

Lilan looked at him thoughtfully. "So how old are you really?"

"Fifty-four, in truth. Though people assume I'm thirty-five or so."

"Wow! You must have seen a lot."

He nodded solemnly. "Too much, in fact. And I spent thirty years in the Jade Tower."

"What is that?"

"Where I was taught magic, among other things."

"Well, I guess you are old enough to be my father." She teased.

He laughed and pushed her down flat on her back, holding himself over her.

"What? Again?" She was grinning wickedly.

"I may be older than I look." He said with a wink. "But I'm not that old."

Chapter Seven: Sara Tonic

Sara was following a rumor, or more likely a ghost. She was tracking a man named Damien, in the East side of the city. It was two nights since she had first heard of him, through gossip and drunken stories. He was a famous swordfighter from distant land, or he was a warlock that could call to a kraken. Sara suspected that he was dangerous, at the very least.

The streets were deserted. Not even the most veteran of the Watch would come come here, especially at night. They called this part of the city Ratville, partially because of all of the rats. They swarmed along the edges of buildings and in the sewers. Partially, they called it Ratville because the people that lived here were more like rats than men. Sara was not worried however. She had her plasma pistol, a needle-like rapier, and an arsenal of throwing knives.

According to the story, the Black Coats would meet in abandoned buildings out here. So far, she had seen plenty of empty houses, but no people. There were signs of habitation, but not even a candle burned in any of the windows. Thieves would be drawn to the flame like moths.

She climbed up the rooftops. For one, she could see further. Her silhouette was clearly visible, but that was only if someone looked up. The back alleys were much more threatening than a shadow above you. Anyone out here would be checking over their shoulder as they walked along. She made her way into the worst part of Ratville, which was not saying much. Most of the buildings here were burned out, the streets impassable, and the smell beyond horrid. Sara had tied a rag across her nose and mouth, but it helped only a little.

There was a voice and she dropped to a crouch. It was high and clear, a woman addressing a group. Sara smiled grimly and moved closer. There were no lights and they were hard to pick out from the shadows because of their dark clothing, but they were there. She counted a dozen standing among the rubble of a temple. Granite blocks were strewn about the site of the collapse.

"We need more guns." A tall man said, leaning against a column that was still standing.

"Speak for yourself." Someone else replied in a mocking voice.

"Not everyone is so gifted, Seamus, including your men. What will they fight with?"

The other man began to reply, but the woman who was speaking earlier cut in.

"Gentlemen! Cease the bickering, please. We are having a discussion here." There were nods and words of agreement among the others. "On the subject of guns..."

"What of my wife?" A short, plump man asked. He looked like a merchant, wearing a fur-lined cloak and silver buckles in his shoes.

"She was caught being careless." Jeered the one called Seamus. "Her plan wasn't exactly subtle either. Anyone with a half a brain could have seen her coming a mile away."

"Enough." A new voice cut in, powerful and controlled. "Do not speak ill of the dead. We will avenge our sister's death."

There was a pause as the two men looked at each other, than Seamus nodded. "As you say, Damien."

He nodded and turned to speaker. "Please continue."

"Thank you. Are there any leads into the investigation?" She asked the widowed husband.

"A few say it was a red-haired woman in a brown leather jacket. She shouldn't be too hard to track down. I've already put the word out with our friends."

Sara smiled to herself. Good luck with that, she thought. She wore her hair under a lady's hat and a blue dress, during the daytime.

"I still don't like their involvement. They give me the creeps." Said a man in the back.

"Frightened?" Seamus asked.

"Of demons? Yes, of course, any sane man would be."

There was nervous laughter. Sara's smile vanished. Demons? Seriously?

"Back to the guns." Groaned the tall man.

"The raid tomorrow night will supply us with everything we will need. Cannons, pistols, muskets, and especially the guns that killed all of our raiders on the docks."

There was a collective intake of breath. Sara was curious about that too. She had heard strange stories about that fight. It seemed there was more going on here than she had thought.

"If we can get those, there won't be a noble left in the city. They'll either be dead or run off somewhere." Seamus said happily.

"Right." The woman agreed. "You will all get specific orders individually. Most of you will lead the men in a frontal assault. Others will attack from the sea."

There were words of agreement. Sara thought it time to leave. She snuck away quietly and then made her way back the house, Hadrian would want to hear this right away.

She knocked loudly on his door. There was a full minute of swearing and then Hadrian called, "Who is it?"

"Who do you think? It's me. Get up and put something on."

There was more swearing. "What do you want?"

"Tea and biscuits. Hurry up."

Hadrian opened the door some time later and was red in the face. "We can speak in here." He growled and let her inside his room. Lilan was sitting up in bed, her hair a mess.

"Good evening, my Lady." Sara said sweetly. "I hope I didn't wake you."

The woman said nothing, only looked at her with a mixed expression, half anger and half curiosity.

"Just tell me what couldn't wait until morning." Hadrian said, clearly trying to suppress his rage.

"You shouldn't get so angry, my Lord. Leads to high blood pressure. Then one day, boom, your heart explodes." She said seriously, then smiled. "I just listened in on an interesting conversation."

"The Black Coats?" He asked suspiciously.

"None other. There's some woman who seems to be running things. There was a Seamus and a Damien too, both wizards by my guess."

Hadrian nodded. "They are, and I know them both by reputation."

"Go on."

"Well, Seamus is a local, and his family has a long history of being burned alive. The last I heard of him however, he was east of the White Falls... a place very far from here."

"And Damien?"

"I've heard his name while studying in the Jade Tower. All three of us learned magic there, but those two are younger than me. I have never actually seen them."

"Are they dangerous?"

"We are all dangerous." Hadrian said, without humor. "The real question is, are they a problem? And that, I do not know."

Sara shrugged. "Either way, not much time to find out. They are raiding a ship down at the docks tomorrow night."

"Which ship?"

"They didn't give a name, but they seemed very interested in the guns. You've heard the rumors of the fight outside the warehouse?"

"I know more than just of what I've heard." Hadrian nodded. "I know their target then. What else did you hear? Battle plans?"

"Most are making a frontal assault, but a few will strike from the sea."

"Makes sense."

"There was something else." Sara said hesitantly.

"What?"

"Well, I don't give it much credit, but they mentioned demons."

Hadrian nodded again, very slowly. "I thought they might have."

"What do they mean by it?"

"I doubt the two wizards are powerful enough to bring a demon completely onto our plane. What they would have done instead is take volunteers, only the most physically intimidating, and invited a demon to occupy each of their bodies. I've been told it feels like sleepwalking."

"Are they a problem?"

"I do not know that yet either."

"Great." Sara looked around the room. The two looked tired and scared. "I'll leave you then. See you in the morning Lilly." She bowed to the woman and left their bedroom.

"You look ridiculous in that." Lilan said, glancing up from a letter she was writing.

"I think the hat looks good, but if you say so..." Sara put the large, floppy thing back on the shelf.

"I am sure we can find you something else."

Sara sat down on a chair and began sharpening one of her daggers. The sound of sliding metal against stone filled the room with an unsettled feeling. Lilan cleared her throat a few times before finally objecting. "Must you do that? It's very distracting."

"Fine. Who are you writing to?"

"My sister Nellis. She's quite upset over the death of our cousin Thomas, Lord Edward's son, they were close."

Sara was checking her reflection in the dagger, looking in her teeth for bits of food. The people here did not have floss.

"You've seen these Black Coat people?" Lilan asked.

"Yeah." Sara did not say that she witnessed the murder of Lord Edward Walsh and his family. Nor did she say that she did nothing to stop it.

"Why are they doing all of this?"

"They seem to hate the nobility, beyond that though..." Sara shrugged. "I haven't given it much thought."

Lilan went back to her letter and when she finished it, stamped it with a seal. She looked up once again. "Are you and Hadrian worried?"

"I am, but I can't say the same of your husband. Does he seem worried?"

"I think that's what it is. He's just so quiet about it."

Sara nodded. "It will be over after tonight, one way or another. These Black Coats are playing their entire hand."

Lilan was quiet and Sara felt ashamed that she could do nothing to comfort her. "Let's do something to cheer you up, ma'am."

"Like what?"

Sara thought for a moment. "I'm sure there is something worth buying in the market."

"I'm sure there is. Okay then, thank you."

Sara drove the carriage down the narrow streets at a leisurely pace. The sun was high and most people looked friendly. They took the Mountain Road until it intersected with Port Avenue and then turned North. The market was a large, empty square where merchants and traders presented their wares. There were a few buildings with the same purpose, but when the weather was fair, people preferred to walk about in the sun.

They parked the carriage in an open area designated for such things. Young Samuel was riding next to her and offered to watch over the carriage.

"Don't you want to see the market?"

"I lost my spare coin gambling with the other stable boys."

Sara shook her head. "Don't you know how to cheat?"

"No ma'am, I would never cheat."

"Then you will never win. If you promise to give it up, then I'll buy you something."

"Really?"

She frowned impatiently. "Yes, really. Now go find someone to watch the horses. You are keeping the Lady waiting."

Samuel ran off and disappeared in a crowd.

"That was nice of you." Lilan was standing behind her.

"You are quite stealthy, ma'am."

She laughed. "You doubted it?"

"I suppose I did." Sara drew her curved dagger, sheathed in simple leather. "Do you have a pocket to hide this?"

Lilan looked like she was going to refuse, but Sara gave her a look that suggested otherwise. "Yes." The other woman hid it in a side pocket.

"Later, I will have to teach you how to use that."

Samuel came running up. "Miss Sara!"

"What?" She drew the flintlock pistol that was under the carriage seat.

"There's a whole lot of angry people coming this way."

"Great." Sara swore under her breath. "Up in the driver's seat boy. Lilly, get behind me and take out that knife. Look like you know what to do with it."

Samuel stood on the seat and had his own knife.

The mob was led by a man in a fine black coat with a white undershirt. He wore no hat, which let his black hair fall down around his shoulders. In other circumstances, Sara would have found him good-looking. Now, he only annoyed her, yelling encouragement to the people behind him.

"Burn these carriages! Why should they ride through the city!" He cried.

"Walk like the rest of us!" A woman in the crowd shouted. There were cheers for her and curses thrown toward Sara and her two companions. They noticed the three of them like a swarm of bees.

"Get out of here!"

"This is our city!"

The mob tried to surround them, but there were too many carriages. The horses and looked around nervously; the other drivers and servants had already fled.

"Remove yourselves at once! We do not wish to look upon a sympathizer, or your whore mistress!" The Black Coat yelled.

If Sara was angry before, it paled in comparison to what she felt now. The rage was white hot behind her eyelids. Her right hand held the pistol, aimed at his chest, and the other rested on the hilt of her sword.

"Speak to me like that again, and I will kill you." She said, her voice carrying over the mob like thunder over water.

"You do not tell me what to do!" He screeched at her, waving his arms about his head. "Sympathizer scum! Kill them! Kill her!"

The pistol jumped in her hands and the Black Coat fell to his knees, holding his stomach. "You shot me..." He wheezed.

"I missed." Sara corrected him, calmly reloading the gun. She poured black powder down the barrel, rammed the bullet home, and primed the pan. Then she took a step forward and aimed the gun at the crowd.

"Who's next!?" She let her anger erupt and it startled her. The crowd looked ready to run. Sara gestured to the Black Coat. "He's worse than any noble I've met. You should choose your friends more carefully."

The mob called insults at her, but they were no longer a danger. She helped Lilan into the carriage and jumped into the driver's seat, pistol still in hand.

"That was incredible, Miss Sara." Samuel was looking at her with awe.

"I know." She said shortly, then softened her words. "Let's go home. The market is a bit crowded today."

Sara helped the Lady undress and climb into her bed. She sat in a chair next to her and looked at the other woman. "Are you okay, ma'am?"

She nodded. "I think so. I just feel so tired."

"Being scared half to death is hard work. A short rest, maybe some food, and you'll be fine."

Lilan looked at her for a long time. "All of the other servants fled."

"I'm not your servant, ma'am, and so I saw no reason to run away."

"Thank you. I do not think I would have survived the mob."

Sara shook her head. "I do not think you would have wanted to. Try not to think about it, just rest for now."

"How do I explain to Hadrian..."

"I will tell him everything. Don't think about that either."

"Why do I get the feeling that you are more than I deserve?"

She laughed. "The first wise thing I've heard in my entire time here. Now, shut up and go to sleep. I'll be sitting right here."

"Thank you." Lilan said again, sleepily.

Chapter Eight: James Wix

"Lord Gange warned of something like this." Wix said to Hadrian. They were sitting together in the Captain's cabin, drinking a poorly-aged wine.

"My information comes from this woman I hired, Sara. She listened in on a Black Coat meeting."

"Who is she?"

Hadrian shrugged. "The mercenary sort. Doesn't speak of her home or a family. My guess is former soldier, based on her disdain for authority and her... skills."

"Good with a blade then, I take it?"

"A wolf in sheep's clothing would be an understatement."

"And she's committed to fighting the Black Coats. Any idea why?"

"No." Hadrian sipped his wine. "We have problems enough at the moment without trying to understand that woman."

"You are worried about this Damien, then?"

"He's powerful, that's all I can be sure of. There's at least one more, a man named Seamus."

"When you say powerful..."

"I mean magic."

"Oh." He gave a shudder. Wix was still not comfortable with some of the things he had seen. He suspected that he was going crazy. Or maybe he was in a coma, lying in a hospital bed somewhere.

Hadrian gave him a smile. "I should be able to distract them, at the very least."

There was a pause and Wix asked. "And why are you willing to help?"

"My wife and I are targets, Captain, just like you. Stopping these madmen is the only way to assure our safety."

He was willing to accept that. "Okay then, let's talk strategy."

"I assume you have prepared a defense around your ship?"

"Of course."

"Sara warns that the attack will come from both land and sea."

"We thought they might try something like that." Wix had ordered the gun ports sealed so that attackers would have to climb onto the deck. There, his men would be waiting for them.

"Then I will send you a signal when the attack comes and keep the two wizards away from you, for as long as possible. There is a very real possibility that they will overwhelm me."

Wix nodded.

"Other than that, I do not know how else to prepare you. If you need my help... I'll know, but I might not be able to get to you."

"Do you think we can defeat them?"

"In one battle? No, but I think we can hit them hard. They will not suspect my involvement."

"So we have surprise on our side." Wix felt better with at least one advantage.

"Yes. My cover as a merchant has worked well, but after this battle I will be identified."

"I sorry about that."

Hadrian laughed. "Everything must come to an end. I will remain minor nobility however, so that is some consolation."

"Are you worried the Black Coats will seek revenge?"

"Worried? No, but I am aware." He stood up. "Well, Captain, I've taken up too much of your time already. And good luck, I'll see you on the battlefield."

Wix shook his hand. "I'm grateful to have you on our side."

Hadrian left and Wix went to oversee preparations. Cannons and the smaller deck guns were trained on the wharf in front of the ship. Any land attack would have to come from there and the attacks would have to cross through hell. The deck of the ship was fortified with sharpened stakes on the railings and barricades for the defenders to hide behind. The hand-to-hand fighting would be toughest, but Wix could spare only twenty men to defend the ship. The rest would be needed on the front line. He hoped that his decision would cost him the battle.

Mr. Howe came up to him and gave him a grim smile.

"How many guns do we have?"

"Plenty. Each man is fully armed; it's a good thing you've had us collect so many weapons."

"The M16's how many? And how much ammo?"

"Um, fifteen rifles, with plenty of ammunition. In the future we will need more, but we will have enough for now."

"Good to hear it. Those guns will be our edge in this battle. We have to make it count."

"We will, Captain. I've told the men to get some rest, it will be sundown in five or six hours. You should do the same, sir."

"I will if you'll do the same Mr. Howe."

"I have no problem with that order, sir." He saluted and walked off.

Wix stared at the warehouses and beyond. The roads were narrow, the enemy would be packed tightly together. Any maneuver they tried, it would take time to organize among the buildings. The wharf was narrow strip of land, paved with slabs of slate. The Black Coats would have no cover standing there, waiting for their turn to fight. Wix felt good about the crew's chances. He wanted to run, to sail away and never look back, but this fight seemed necessary.

Wix was speaking to Mr. Howe when the signal flare, a red falcon, flew overhead. The men watched it flap its flaming wings and soar above them in lazy circles.

"To arms!" Wix yelled. "Get in positions!"

"You know the drill, move it you slugs!" Bellowed Mr. Garrett, the First Mate.

Those with muskets lined up against the barricade of barrels and sandbags, blocking the width of the dock. The marines, and their automatic weapons, held the flanks. Behind them, on the ship, the crew's best fighters waited to repel any boarders. They numbered twenty-one, not counting the men manning the deck guns. Spotters were hanging in the rigging and in the crow's nest. A call came down and Wix, along with everyone else, looked ahead.

The enemy marched in a ragged line, at least five ranks deep. A few men in the front were shirtless and painted in hellish-looking symbols. They looked monstrous, even from a distance, and carried no weapons. Wix did not think they would need any.

On both sides Sergeants called out orders. Flints were cocked back, horns were blown, and cannons fired. The Black Coats had mortars covering their advance. All of the shells, save one, fell short. It exploded on the far side of the barricade, throwing men back. Few looked injured however, most were just stunned. The gap closed quickly, but there was now a hole in the defenses. Wix cursed silently and refocused on the enemy.

The shots from the deck guns of the Ardent Wind cut neat holes in the enemy line, files of men vanished in red mist. They began to run in poor order, bringing them in range of the M16's. The gunfire was steady and precise, picking off the men in front. Others tripped over the bodies and the advance was halted momentarily. None of the painted monsters seemed to slow however, and they came in range of the muskets.

Wix and his officers from the U.S.S. Lyat had trained the men well. They did not waste their volley on a handful of men, no matter how terrifying they looked. In another moment, the second mortar strike began. For some reason, that Wix could not understand, the enemy had not fixed their firing arcs. The shells fell neatly amongst the men in warpaint, causing a carnage that was difficult to watch. None survived their own artillery attack.

Cannons continued to fire, turning the small trip of the wharf into something from a nightmare. The Black Coat line could not reform in time before the M16's or deck guns shredded holes in their line. Men who would have been steady in a proper marching order instead panicked and tried to run. Meanwhile, those behind them tried to push forward rather than stand still among the cannon fire. The killing continued like clockwork.

In the warehouse district, Wix could see flames rising from burning buildings. There was a faint, blue glow as well. He wondered at what was happening, but Mr. Howe was yelling.

"The ship is being boarded Captain!"

Wix nodded and looked for Mr. Garrett. He was behind the barricade loading a musket.

"Hold here! I'm going to defend the ship"

"Aye!" The First Mate continued shouting orders. Wix gathered as many marines as he could find. Two were guarding the flank, watching for anyone trying to sneak around the barricade. Another had replaced a fallen Sergeant and was giving firing orders.

"Just tell them to fire at will! Come one!" Wix waved towards the ships.

The four of them ran up the gangplank and looked over the deck. Dead bodies littered the far railing, but the crew of the Ardent Wind still held the ship.

"Another wave coming Captain!"

"Thank the gods for you sir!"

"Ha! Didn't think we'd survive the next one!"

The determined faces of his men made Wix flush with pride. "Neatly done boys! Neatly done!"

Guns were leveled and they held their collective breath. A hand emerged, followed by a head. They held their fire. Another hand, then three more heads. Wix kept saying over and over to himself, and perhaps out loud, "Wait for it. Wait for it."

The Black Coats, stripped to the waist and armed only with swords, ran forward. "Fire!" Wix yelled over the sound of gunfire.

The enemy was cut down in that single volley. Wix had even forgotten to fire. "Forward! Look for climbers!" He moved quickly to the railing and aimed his pistol down the side of the ship, careful of the wooden spikes. A surprised face looked up at him and he fired. The face vanished and a new one was looking up at him. He fired again.

The marines had also switched to their pistols, firing down at almost point-blank range. One was beside him, yelling down curses while firing. Once the enemy were gone, Wix reloaded his gun and looked around.

"Timely arrival Captain." A sailor said to him, his arm bleeding from a large gash.

Wix pointed at the wound.

"Bandage that up." He looked at the other men, tending to their weapons or checking fallen comrades. They sensed his gaze and watched him.

"You held the ship, and you didn't run. You should be damn proud of yourselves."

Most looked embarrassed and Wix smiled to himself. "We made those bastards pay."

He was cut off by Mr. Howe. "We've got more coming, sir. A lot more."

Wix nodded. He was not concerned with the how or why of it. If the Black Coats wanted another round, then his men were ready to oblige.

"Man the cannons! And someone keep a look out for more boarders!"

They ran to their positions, Wix and Mr. Howe went down the gangplank, followed by the three marines.

"Hell of a battle." Mr. Howe remarked, looking out over the wharf. Bodies were littered everywhere, the sounds of the dying inescapable.

"How are the men doing?"

"Tired, sir, but they'll hold. We trained them well."

"Good. I..." A red-haired woman strolled up to him, wearing a sailor's cap.

She pointed to it. "So I don't get shot. Captain Wix? Good to meet you."

"You must be Sara?" He could not understand what she was doing here. "What's going on?"

"I believe you are defending against those Black Coat bastards, sir. It's a battle you see. All the bodies and killing really give it away."

Wix scowled. "I mean, why are you here?"

"Messenger, kind of. Plus, it's safer this side of the line."

"You have a message?"

"Hadrian warns the night isn't over. Those other two wizards are giving him hell."

"It seems the battle is almost over." Wix protested.

"This is all for show." Sara pointed at the enemy line, out of cannon range. "They're going to switch tactics."

"To what?"

"Hell if I know. Just watch yourself." She smiled sympathetically. "I watched them fight for a while. You don't want to face those guys alone."

Sara mocked a salute and turned to leave.

"What are you going to do?"

She yelled over her shoulder. "Not all of those pricks have magic."

Wix and Mr. Howe watched her leave.

"Do you like red-heads, Captain?" The other man was smiling. Wix laughed at the attempted humor.

"Blondes, actually."

"A shame sir, that one would keep you busy."

"I'm sure." He pointed to the barricade. "Tell everyone to take a rest. Arrange food and water too."

"Yes, sir."

Wix looked out over the port. The blue light had intensified and now lightning rained down from the sky. Warehouse fires raged all along the wharf.

"Why do I get the feeling that we're going to be blamed for this?" Asked Mr. Garrett.

"I'm thinking the same. Well, just because he doesn't want to pay, it doesn't mean we won't get what we're owed."

"You sound more like a pirate every day, Captain." Mr. Garrett was smiling, a hard smile that looked like it was given against his better judgement.

"All I need now is a hook for a hand." Wix laughed and went to look for something to drink.

Author's Note: Hi, and thanks for reading. Don't worry, the rest of the book is free, I'm just done finished writing it. Check out http://www.wedonotsowonfriday.com/

