

* * * * *

### No Place Like Amestraton

A Ballad of the Northlands

Chris Mitchell

Copyright 2011 Chris Mitchell

Cover Art by Chris Mitchell

Smashwords Edition

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In the highly unlikely case that the source from which you obtained this e-book did not inform you, this e-book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events within are entirely fictitious, and any similarities to real places, events, or persons (living or dead) are purely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition License Notes:

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Table of Contents:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

* * * * *

Chapter 1

* * * * *

Walking into the tavern, Mary was grateful for the luxury of being able to get away tonight. Her father, while never getting angry, would be irritated if he knew she had gone out. Of course, she'd practically have to shout it into his face in order for him to notice that she was gone, so she wasn't worried. For tonight, at least, Mary had the evening to do what she wanted.

She took a seat at a table, grunting as she did so. She still had a minor cramp in her back from cleaning the floors today. Mary still disliked the sensation, no matter how many times she had felt it. Fortunately, she could count the months until she no longer had to do that sort of work. It mainly depended on Henry, but she knew he was reliable.

At least, she thought he was, even though he was slightly late tonight. Mary shook her head, slightly annoyed. He ought to know better than anyone that she didn't get the opportunity to see him very often, so Henry should have been here by now. But he hadn't been at his house, and he showed no sign of appearing here. Still, she could wait on him...if nothing else, being a maid had taught her the value of patience.

"Waiting on Henry?" said a familiar voice. Mary looked up to see the bartender had come over to her table.

"Of course," Mary told Thomas. She knew he considered it good business practice to converse with his customers. Whether or not that was true, Mary couldn't say for certain. She'd only been to a few taverns other than the Three Brothers, and she didn't really remember all that much about them.

"Let me guess, you'd rather not be gabbing with me," Thomas chuckled, and Mary gave him a annoyed look, even though she was inwardly amused as well. "So then, can I get you your usual drink?"

"Yes, thank you," Mary replied, and Thomas hurried off. Sighing, she settled in to wait. With luck, Henry would be here soon.

* * * * *

Henry slid into the chair smoothly, noticing Mary was paying him no attention. It was typical for her to be lost in thought, so he wasn't too surprised. Briefly, he considered attempting to startle her, but such jokes really weren't to his liking.

"Hello," he said. Mary looked over suddenly, clearly startled anyway.

"What...how long have you been sitting there?" she blurted out, face flushed.

Henry shook his head, amused that Mary never changed. "Just got here," he explained, leaning back and studying her. He noted she had tied her hair back into a horsetail again. While she normally wore it that way, she had taken out the ribbons when the last time she snuck out to meet him.

"So where were you?" Mary asked, visibly relaxing.

"Trying to find a job," Henry sighed, not exactly happy with the way things were going, "I haven't found one."

"None at all?" Mary sounded confused, "Not since we last met?" Henry just shook his head, not really able to answer for his seeming inability over the past four days. If it was his fault, he'd have known it, but the incoming winter, as usual, meant mercenaries had problems finding work. Even for someone of his abilities, opportunities were scarce, which annoyed him.

"You know, you could take the guard job I told you about," Mary frowned, "I think he raised the pay, due to not finding anyone."

"I told you, I don't like taking jobs from the councilmen," Henry grumbled. Admittedly, he was starting to run out of possible work options, and he needed the worthings. Still, he knew from firsthand experience that the councilmen were known for cheating mercenaries. After that one time playing escort to Leroikin's son, Henry was wary about any jobs any of the councilmen offered.

"You won't be cheated, you know," Mary spoke up, guessing his thoughts perfectly, "Ro...Williamkin's not the type to do that."

Henry raised an eyebrow at her referring to Williamkin formally. While he was her master, she had almost always talked about him in a more informal manner. Briefly, he wondered why Mary was doing that now of all times. Ultimately, it was probably best that he didn't bring the issue into the conversation. Henry had more immediate concerns to deal with than Mary's manners.

"Can you guarantee that?" he asked calmly.

"Of course," she replied instantly.

Henry sighed, not liking his options here. But he knew he couldn't afford to be choosy, not when the goal he and Mary had been looking forward to was drawing closer. If he refused, it could set the plan back by as much as a month. Henry doubted he could afford that, and Mary would likely object too.

"I'll consider it," he told her. Mary nodded, looking slightly smug. Henry didn't begrudge her that. After all, he corrected her often enough that he'd be surprised to find that she didn't enjoy proving him wrong now and then.

* * * * *

Mary had to admit she didn't particularly want Henry to take this job. Not being able to see him, even for a few more days than normal, would be hard enough. It was no consolation that she likely would have trouble finding opportunities to meet him herself, given what else was going on.

"Mary?" Henry spoke up loudly.

"What?" Mary looked up, and saw Thomas standing next to Henry, both giving her odd looks. She shook her head, realizing she'd become so lost in though she hadn't paid attention. "Sorry," she said quietly, "What is it?"

"You weren't listening to me? Bad business, that," Thomas sighed, "So, what would you like to eat?" Mary couldn't blame the older man for hating to repeat himself. It was entirely her fault for not listening.

"Roast mutton," Mary told him.

"I'll have chicken," Henry said. Mary glanced at him irritably, annoyed that he had waited until she made her decision before telling Thomas what dish he wanted.

"Alright, they'll be ready soon," Thomas nodded, and headed back towards the kitchen.

"You know, you could have told him about your food first," Mary grumbled.

"True," Henry replied, smiling slightly, "But I like the chicken, and wanted to see if you were going to try it this time."

"Liar," Mary teased, "You just don't want to be caught eating the same thing as me."

"Not really," Henry shook his head.

"Fine then," Mary crossed her arms, "Let's make a wager."

"A wager?" Henry looked back at her, slightly surprised.

"If you ever order the same thing I do," Mary explained, "You'll owe me...five worthings."

Henry paused, obviously considering this. "Alright," he said, "I'll take that bet."

"You'll regret it," Mary chuckled. She definitely would enjoy winning the bet, although she doubted it would be that simple. Henry was clever enough not to be deceived by most forms of trickery, and they both knew it.

* * * * *

Henry swallowed a bite of the chicken, enjoying the flavor, and then took a drink. Definitely better than the dried meat and fruit he had to eat at home. He wasn't about to complain about it. It was one of the reasons he had ended up meeting Mary to begin with.

While it was nice to reminisce, there were more important things to deal with. "So, what's been happening at Williamkin's house?" Henry asked, setting his mug down.

Mary sighed and looked down. Henry got the impression that something had occurred that Mary didn't want to discuss. While he wished there were some other way to get this information without bothering Mary, he unfortunately had no choice.

"Nothing new, really," Mary finally said, "Sarah's fallen ill, and the doctor will come by in a few days, but other than that...nothing."

"The illness is serious?" Henry frowned, considering the thought. Mary wasn't about to lie to him about this, and she clearly had to be worried about something, so this probably was the issue.

"She spends a lot of time in bed," Mary explained, "Also, she coughs a lot."

Henry shrugged. He wasn't the greatest expert in diseases, although he knew more than most about keeping healthy. The doctor would probably figure out the truth and give her medicine, and it would work out. It probably wouldn't make Mary feel any better about it. Henry wished he could comfort her, but this was not the place for that.

"I'm worrying too much, aren't I?" Mary's smile was obviously forced.

"Perhaps," Henry looked her in the eye, "But whatever happens, will happen...right?

Mary chuckled roughly at her own words turned back on her. At least she was feeling better, Henry noted. He'd never been particularly good at humor, but then again, most people weren't.

* * * * *

Leaving the tavern, Mary felt a chill from the wind. She really ought to have worn a coat over her faded dress, but she had been in a hurry to get out of Williamkin's house. It wasn't so cold yet that she couldn't handle the chill, but with winter soon approaching, she needed to not make that mistake again. Shivering, Mary quickened her pace.

Henry matched her pace, staying beside her. Despite his slightly shorter stature, he showed no signs of being fatigued in the least. Knowing that he kept himself in fairly good physical condition, Mary had to admit, even now, Henry still impressed her. It made it more likely he'd get the job with the traders' guild.

Again, she noted she would miss being able to get out and talk to Henry, even if this was only for a few days. Mary could live with that; she'd handled it most of her life. As long as she knew that it brought the day closer when she wouldn't have to deal with being a maid, it was acceptable.

Looking up at the darkening sky, Mary hoped nothing would go wrong. She and Henry had put far too much effort into this for it to fail now. One way or the other, when this was settled, Mary intended be able to live her life the way she wanted. As blasphemous as it might sound, she swore to herself, not even the Three Saints would be able to stop them.

"Where are you going?" Mary heard Henry asking. Turning, she realized she'd taken a wrong turn and started heading down the wrong street. Mentally cursing herself for being so absent-minded, she turned and ran back to Henry.

* * * * *

Arriving at his house, Henry marveled that it held an attraction to Mary. Given the conditions she lived and worked in, it was still a surprise that she said she enjoyed the place. Of course, it probably had more to do with the fact that he was there, while Councilman Williamkin and her father were not.

"Alright then," Mary said, looking reluctantly at Henry, "Good luck with the job. I'll see you in a few days."

Henry looked up and down the deserted street, confirming that no one was out. It figured that most people couldn't be bothered to tough out the cold and be out and about. Still, that offered an opportunity to Henry, one he intended to put to good use.

Moving over, he embraced Mary tightly. She tensed up, startled, before relaxing and returning the gesture. It wasn't often that she felt comfortable enough to do this, so Henry knew he had to take advantage of it when he could get away with it. Which, unfortunately, wasn't very often.

"Keep safe," Mary sighed, letting go.

"I will," Henry nodded. She headed off, walking along briskly down the cold road. Henry wasn't worried about Mary getting home safely. She knew the route home, and she knew to avoid stirring up trouble. It was more than most people understood, but of course, most people were not nearly as intelligent compared to Henry or Mary.

He headed inside, deciding to take a look through his accounts. After all, he'd been the one to pay for the food, so he had to make a note of that. Once that was done, Henry could just get some sleep. He'd probably need it for tomorrow.

* * * * *

Mary crept back into the kitchen through the side door, not making a sound. It was slightly possible her father had already fallen asleep. He occasionally tended to do so earlier on some days. Perhaps he was feeling his age, a sobering thought that bothered Mary slightly. However, it also made her more determined. It just meant that the sooner Henry got the worthings for the plan, the better off they would be.

Heading out of the kitchen, Mary noticed how silent the house was. Most likely Robert and Michael had not returned from going out to some tavern. Mary didn't remember exactly what the name of the tavern was, except that it was most certainly not the Three Brothers. She'd have recognized them if they'd been there.

Since Sarah was probably still sleeping, that left only her father. To be honest, Mary doubted he'd be asleep this early, not when Robert could return. He was determined, almost stubbornly so, to be as reliable a butler as possible. He would be there; Mary was certain of it.

Her certainty waned as she entered the front hall, to find no sign of him. Could he, Mary asked herself, really have gone to sleep? It would be a little disturbing, but for now, she couldn't do anything about it. She might as well wait in the front hall, in case she had to handle their return. It wasn't as if she hadn't done it before, but the last time she had, her father had been ill himself. Mary hoped that wasn't the case again.

* * * * *

Henry opened his eyes, irritated that he couldn't bring himself to fall asleep again. Normally he had no problems with that, but recently he had found himself more restless. It was probably the lack of work, resulting in him having more energy than normal. If that was the case, perhaps he ought to consider doing some stretches in order to exercise out the excess stamina.

Of course, Henry knew that could also work him up more, making it less likely he would fall asleep. He sighed and shifted on the bed, admitting defeat. He'd just have wait for sleep to come, and hope it didn't take too long. If he was too exhausted tomorrow, there was a chance, however slight, that he would not get the job.

If that happened, he wasn't certain what he would tell Mary. She had been particularly insistent that he get this job for some reason, even though there was clearly a risk that their relationship might be found out. Personally, Henry was ambivalent about such an occurrence, but he knew that Mary dreaded that possibility.

Which brought him back to the need to get some sleep. Henry sighed and closed his eyes again, trying to will himself to slumber, despite his body disagreeing. He would have bet good worthings that this was going to be a long night.

* * * * *

Stifling a yawn, Mary looked up as Robert opened the doorway. He and Michael walked in, and began taking off their thick coats. Briefly wondering why they were so late to return, she moved forward to help them, feeling the chill air that had come in with them.

"Where's Patrick?" Robert asked, looking around the front hall.

"I think he went to bed, Master Williamkin," Mary explained, taking the coats and hanging them on a nearby rack. She still didn't know if that was really the truth, but it was the most likely possibility, given the circumstances.

Robert scowled, but said nothing. Mary knew he was less than happy than being treated so formally, but she wasn't going to stop. She had settled on ensuring her father was kept satisfied, at least for now. Mary was determined that, should her father ask about it, he would not be upset with her. Until Henry had enough money, that would keep him happy.

Robert headed up the stairs, leaving Michael standing there. Mary was startled to see a decidedly unhappy expression on his face as he looked up at his departing father. After a moment, he too went upstairs.

Clearly there was something bad going on, but it wasn't likely to affect her. It was probably just yet another argument between Robert and Michael anyway. Their interests were different, despite the two being equally stubborn, at least in her view.

For now though, Mary decided, it was time for her to go get some sleep herself. It beat standing around in the slightly chilly front hall, and there wasn't much anything she could do tonight. Tomorrow, she reminded herself, she ought to check those coats and see if they needed to be washed. Mary shook her head, and left the front hall, heading for her own little room.

* * * * *

Henry walked out of his house, chewing on a piece of dried meat. His main priority, at the moment, was to go to the traders' guild and inquire about the job. The caravan was leaving in the next few days, from what he understood, so he couldn't waste any time.

He started out when he heard a sound behind him. Henry turned to see a young boy wearing ragged clothing standing there.

"Excuse me," the boy said.

"What is it?" Henry asked, not entirely happy about the interruption.

"Charlen sent me to tell you that he knows of a possible job," the boy spoke hurriedly, "He wants you to talk to him in the next few days if you're interested."

Henry sighed, knowing that Charlen would likely be unhappy if he declined. On the other hand, most of the previous jobs he'd gotten word of from the shopkeep tended to be low paying affairs. Compared to the two hundred or more worthings he stood to get from the job Mary had suggested, he doubted this one, would work out.

"Tell him I'm pursuing another opportunity right now," Henry told the boy, "If this doesn't work, I will speak to him."

The boy nodded and hurried off. Henry had to admit he ought to be grateful that Charlen was going so far to hire a messenger boy to tell him of this, but the delay was an irritation. Not that he was so tactless that he would bring the matter up the next time they spoke. Besides, Charlen was no fool. The shopkeep figure out what likely had occurred anyway.

For now, Henry needed to get to the traders' guild. He could worry about other problems when this was settled.

* * * * *

Mary brought the tea and freshly-cooked flatcakes into the dining hall, still slightly tired despite sleeping quite soundly. Her father had apparently woken up before her, and she hadn't been able to get a straight answer from him about where he had been. It wasn't important right now, Mary told herself. She'd probably figure it out eventually.

Robert, Sarah, and Michael all sat at their usual places around the long table, waiting. Although she looked pale, it was good to see Sarah awake. Hopefully this meant her illness was on the mend. Mary didn't want to think about what might happen if that wasn't the case. She didn't want a repeat of past events to happen again.

Serving each of them in turn, Mary quickly moved around the table. She'd had more than enough practice at this to be able to do it smoothly and efficiently. While it was hardly the most practical skill, Mary knew it was critical to who she was.

"Thank you, Mary," Sarah said as Mary as stepped around her chair. She simply nodded at the older woman, enjoying the acknowledgement. It was one of the few things that provided satisfaction to Mary, and she took it whenever she could get it.

With a nod, Mary took the empty trays and exited the room, going to go eat herself. Her father was probably waiting for her in the kitchen, assuming he hadn't already helped himself to the remaining flatcakes. He was prone to do that, Mary thought as she chuckled to herself, walking down the hall.

* * * * *

Henry hadn't been in the traders' guild in several years, but it hadn't really changed that much from what he remembered. The only difference seemed to be more guards standing around the columned entry hall, vigilant. He guessed the increased protection was due to that gang of thieves from roughly six months ago, but he couldn't be certain.

Either way, he didn't particularly like the idea of so many guards. Two or three was sufficient for a building of the guild's size. Any more just told anyone with common sense that they were paranoid about safety. It also didn't match up with what he had learned about Councilman Williamkin from Mary. It seemed that Williamkin was more of a fool than he had supposed.

Hearing a commotion, Henry looked over at the desk of the guild clerk. In front of it was a man well dressed in green finery, arguing with, of all things, a dwarf. Dwarves being a very rare sight in Amestraton, Henry was a little surprised to see one here. Although he knew from Mary some of them traded with the city, he had been under the impression they almost never left their homes in the mountain valleys to the north.

It didn't matter, as his business wasn't with the dwarves anyway. He just had to get this job, which was accompanying a caravan to some place called Pordrin. Considering Henry had never really heard of it before, it couldn't be much more than a village at largest. Otherwise, he'd have known about Pordrin before Mary had brought the job to his attention.

Moving closer, Henry heard what the two were saying. Considering that they were between him and the clerk, he might as well listen in. Perhaps he could learn something about the dwarves by doing so.

"I told you, lad, the winter weather is due soon,," the dwarf glared at the man, "I'm not going to take any chances with it."

"Do I need to repeat myself?" the man sighed, shaking his head, "You ought to know Williamkin well enough to understand his insistence on this matter."

"Bah, you're just scared if you think it's such a big problem that we need to wait on one more," the dwarf grumbled, "You know I'm helping to keep things running."

"I know," the man said, "However, this isn't going to make him change his mind. I'm not putting my job on the line, even if it was safe."

"Bah," the dwarf repeated, tugging on his brown beard, "I'll be talking to Robert about this." The dwarf walked past Henry towards the guild doors, a scowl still on his face. The man sighed, and turned to head up the stairs.

While most people might have been offended by being ignored like Henry had been, he didn't mind. Being a mercenary of his background, there were quite a few people who were willing to dismiss him. Foolishness, of course, but then again some people just couldn't prevent themselves from acting in such a manner.

He stepped forward to see the clerk, who looked quite irritated. "I'm here regarding the job of escorting the caravan to Pordrin," Henry wasn't about to waste time getting to the point.

"I'll go talk to the caravan leader," the clerk said, relaxing visibly, "For now, could you please wait here?"

Henry nodded, and the clerk rose and went up the stairs. It was looking like this might work out, which left him quite pleased. He was quite confident he'd get the job, given his skills. After all, Henry thought, why would they hesitate to hire one of the finest mercenaries in Amestraton?

* * * * *

Glancing over at the timepiece, Mary concluded that she was bored. Standing in the parlor watching Robert sit and instruct Michael on various affairs of the guild was not exactly enjoyable, although she supposed it was better than cleaning. While she didn't mind standing idly, Robert was hardly the best at teaching. He had an unfortunate tendency to talk in a very distant manner.

"Now remember, everyone is willing to do or buy anything...for the right price," Robert spoke steadily, "As merchants, our job is calculate and understand what that price is, and determine if it is worth it to pursue it."

Despite the fact that he was gazing directly at Michael, Mary could tell Robert wasn't actually paying attention to his son's behavior. Michael's boredom was obvious, from the way he periodically shifted around in his padded chair. Mary knew he what he would prefer to be doing, but it wasn't like she could help Michael.

"Excuse me, Master Williamkin," her father spoke from the doorway, "Yamras is here to see you."

Robert sighed, looking unhappy, "Show him in." Mary's father nodded, and departed the room. Mary had to wonder why Yamras had come here today. She had figured the dwarf would have been preparing for his own caravan to depart.

Less than a minute later, her father led Yamras into the room. The dwarf, dressed in his usual thick cotton clothes with a leather vest over them, looked definitely upset. While he was the type to complain, from what Mary had seen of Yamras before, she somehow felt this might be a more serious affair.

"We need to talk," Yamras grumbled, "You know, about the caravan."

"Right then," Robert said politely, "Let's discuss this matter in my study, then. You come too, Michael." He stood up, and without even waiting for the dwarf's response, walked swiftly out of the room. Yamras followed, stomping heavily on the wooden floor.

Mary exchanged glances with Michael, who looked just as confused as she felt as he left the room too. She suspected Michael's presence in the study wasn't needed, but Robert wanted to make some sort of point to him anyway.

"You could be cleaning, you know," her father pointed out from the doorway. Mary was mildly startled, having forgotten about him.

"Alright," she said reluctantly. Her father nodded, then turned and left the parlor. Slowly, Mary walked over to the open door. She'd probably want to go look at those coats first, as laundry was fairly easy work.

* * * * *

Henry was a bit irritated about being made to wait so long in the empty room. Sitting at the long table, it was clear that the traders' guild considered him of lesser importance than other issues. It was a minor error on their part, and Henry had seen people make far worse mistakes in dealing with him. Still, he would have preferred to have this business done with as soon as possible.

Finally, a man entered the room and took a seat across the table from him. Henry was admittedly astonished to see it had been the same man who had been arguing with the dwarf before. That likely meant...that Pordrin was a dwarven settlement. This job was starting to look bad, given that there seemed to be some sort of disagreement over the affair.

For a second he considered reprimanding Mary for not telling him this, but Henry knew better. She had most likely assumed he would know such a thing, and rightly so. Any errors here were, for once, entirely his fault. He'd have to keep that in mind for any future dealings.

"My apologies," the man began, "I'm Christopher, and I'm in charge of the caravan to Pordrin Valley. You were looking for the guard job?"

"Correct," Henry said, "I'm Henry Tylaris." Mentally, he noted the addition of the word valley, as that implied it was among the mountains to the north. Unless it lay particularly close within the foothills of the Greyspan, this would be a longer trip than he had originally anticipated.

"While normally I'd want to question you further," the man explained, "I am in a hurry. So let me just ask you this. Have you ever fought orcs before?"

"Yes," Henry answered. He didn't expect to see the grey-skinned brutes, so he had to wonder why this question came up.

"Alright then," the man said, "Now, could you come with me so we can fill out the papers?"

"Of course," Henry nodded as he rose from one of the chairs. This was turning out to be even easier then he had anticipated.

* * * * *

Mary inspected the fur coat, satisfied it didn't need to be cleaned. Anything that lessened the work she had to do was a good thing by her views. It wasn't as if she had expected to find any actual stains anyway. Neither Robert nor Michael were the clumsy sort. In fact, if anyone in this house was likely to make such a mess, it was probably Mary herself.

Well, that task was done, so she ought to find something else to do. It was tempting to go just relax for part of the afternoon before she had to go start preparing dinner. Mary looked around the front hall, noting her father, oddly enough, was not here. That meant it actually might be possible, she thought, to actually have some time for herself.

Quietly, she walked to her room. For once, Mary was grateful that she had been made to clean and oil the wooden floor so thoroughly...it didn't make the slightest noise as she headed for her room. Not that she could admit her gratitude to her father, for obvious reasons.

She started to turn to head off, when a knock came at the door. Mary looked around again for her father, and sighed when she realized she would have to handle this. Still shaking her head, she walked over and opened them.

A messenger, a child really, stood there. Mary knew of the fact that poor children frequently had to earn money this way, but it still bothered her every time she saw one. Thankfully, that wasn't often, as her father usually handled them.

"Message for Yamras," the child, a boy, said.

"He's inside," Mary answered, "Come in."

The boy entered, staring around the room. Mary supposed he wasn't used to seeing the elaborate décor that Robert favored. She'd never really been impressed by it either, and she didn't really pay it much attention these days. She thought the boy would be much less impressed if he saw rooms like the kitchen or her room, but didn't bring that matter up.

"This way," Mary said, leading the boy to the study. He followed, still gazing around at the potted plants and various portraits hung on the walls.

* * * * *

Henry walked out of the guild, feeling very satisfied with how things were going. He had been very pleasantly surprised to find out the job paid six hundred worthings. It looked like he'd end up much closer to his goal than he had thought. Mary probably had known this, hence her persistence in him taking the job.

Less pleasant was the fact that the caravan was planned to be leaving today. Mary's information wasn't perfect, but then again he hadn't counted on it being absolutely correct. It was a minor issue anyway, as Henry had made certain that any travel preparations were mostly made in advance. It would take him under an hour, once he reached his house, to make ready to leave Amestraton.

Having never been to Pordrin, or any other place where dwarves dwelled, Henry wondered what he could expect. He didn't know, which probably left him the odd one out among any other mercenaries hired to guard the caravan. In fact, given that they seemingly didn't know of his reputation, Henry concluded that they were desperate to hire someone.

Perhaps the argument with the dwarf was part of that, he pondered as he walked. They had mentioned something about safety, and not bringing a couple of guards was asking for trouble. He noted he ought to be careful. The last thing that Henry wanted was to get too deeply involved in guild business, or by extension, city council business.

For now, though, he needed to focus on the immediate task at hand. Arriving at his house, Henry stretched for a second, pausing to look it over. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and he relaxed. He moved forward to open the door and head on in.

* * * * *

"So we can leave today," Yamras said, triumphantly looking at Robert. "Don't know why you were worried."

"I had to plan for the contingency," Robert shook his head.

Mary was very careful to hide her emotions. Inside, she felt elated to find out about the final guard; it had to be Henry. It was gratifying to know he'd taken her advice. If there had been a way to celebrate it, she would be attempting it right now.

"Excuse me," Robert spoke, interrupting Mary's thoughts, "Can you see Yamras and the messenger out?"

Mary nodded, sighing inwardly. For now, she had to be the dutiful maid, and do what Robert wanted. Leading the two out of the room, she wondered if it would be possible to sneak out to the Three Brothers again tonight. It was probably best that she didn't, at least not tonight. Being regularly absent from the house was just too great of a risk for Mary to be willing to take.

Walking into the front hall, Mary nodded at Yamras and the child. "Tip?" the child asked hesitantly. Mary wanted to hit herself. She'd forgotten the customary habit of paying messengers yet again.

'I'll take care of it when we get to the guild, lass," Yamras told the child, shrugging on his fur coat.

Mary started to smile, then paused as she caught what the dwarf had said. "Lass?"

"Bah, you couldn't tell this was a girl?" Yamras snorted, "You sure you don't need eyeglasses?"

No," Mary shook her head. She could see just fine, it was just...she hadn't expected a girl, she supposed. Obviously, her father didn't have the worthings, and even if he did, he was of such a stingy nature that she couldn't see it happening. And Robert wouldn't go that far out of his way to purchase such a thing for her.

"Whatever grows your beard," Yamras shrugged, "I'm off, then. Come on, lass." He opened the door himself, and he headed out, followed closely by the girl. Mary sighed, still not entirely convinced she'd been wrong.

It was a minor issue anyway, she told herself. Perhaps now she could go see about relaxing and reading the latest book Michael had lent her. Again, she started for her room, only to hear an all-too familiar voice.

"Going to cook dinner?" her father asked, "I believe Lady Ellenkin has requested her favorite pork dish."

"Yes," Mary sighed, conceding defeat in this matter. She headed down the hall towards the kitchen. She'd have to try and relax some other time, when her father was more occupied. As this day had been relatively light in terms of work, she probably didn't need the time anyway.

* * * * *

The one downside of making such a trip, Henry thought as he finished filling his bag, was the necessity of trail rations. While he didn't mind dried meat, he wasn't fond of having to eat it twice a day for consecutive days. But the job demanded it, and he wasn't the sort to complain about such things. No good mercenary would, and Henry was one of the best.

Setting his bag down, he closed them and took the time to inspect his sword. The blade was still fairly sharp, with no obvious dulled points and a clean shine. While Henry would have preferred to take it to a smith for further sharpening - whetstones could only do so much - it would suffice for the job.

Re-sheathing it, he mentally reviewed the preparations he had made. The bag now contained some of Henry's spare clothing, rations, a pair of whetstones just in case, flint, a knife, and even a handful of worthings, just in case he needed to buy something from the dwarves. Unless there were to be major surprises in wait, that would be sufficient.

Of course, Henry had to be ready for major surprises. After all, that was basically the whole point of his job. Even though he expected no problems, becoming too complacent would not end well. The world was a dangerous place, even to someone as well prepared as he was. Henry wasn't about to let himself relax, or at least not until he was ready for Mary to move in.

For now, he'd better get back to the guild and inform them that he was ready. The caravan had better be ready to leave today, Henry decided as he grabbed his bag. At the least, he didn't want to have run the risk that he had offended Charlen for no gain. And with the effort he'd put in to getting ready on such short notice...they had better be out of Amestraton well before night started to fall.

Henry put on his coat as he headed out the door. Looking up at the sky, he noted the weather seemed clear and bright, although it was a little cool. Overall, he'd say those conditions were good, so that was one less thing to worry about. Henry strode off, his steps ringing loudly on the cobblestones.

* * * * *

Mary shook her head at the sight of the still-cooking pork, not exactly happy about having to eat it. She could live with it now and then, and since Sarah was ill, it was fair enough to request it for her sake. Besides, variety wasn't a bad thing when it came to food. At least, that's what Henry said, and Mary admitted he had a point.

For now, all she could do was wait on the cooking to finish. It was easily the most boring part of the cooking process for Mary. Admittedly, that didn't amount to very much, given how she liked cooking. Mary shook her head, knowing now was not the time for indulging in her own pleasure. Even if she could do nothing else right now, she had to pay attention. She wasn't about to let the food burn.

"Cooking?" Michael asked quietly from the door.

"Yes," Mary said as she turned, a little surprised that he was here. Michael normally didn't bother coming into the kitchen. She didn't exactly know why this was, but it wasn't worth speculating over anyway.

"You cooking pork?" Michael gazed at her steadily.

"Yes," Mary repeated, feeling slight exasperated at the questioning. She wished she knew the whole point of this conversation.

"Good," Michael lowered his voice, "Just don't mention that I'm the one who suggested it to your father."

"Alright," Mary chuckled, catching on, "I won't say anything."

Michael nodded, and left as quietly as he came. Shaking her head with amusement, Mary turned around to check on the beans. One thing about it bothered her though. She hadn't thought her father would take suggestions from Michael. Then again, his strange behavior lately could mean anything, so once again it was another matter not worth thinking about.

The meal, however, was. Mary stirred the beans, settling herself back into the routine of cooking. Whatever else happened, it was one of the few things that she felt comfortable doing. Perhaps this was the relaxation she had needed the whole while. Mary yawned lightly, setting the spoon aside and stepping back to keep a vigilant watch on the cooking food.

* * * * *

Henry looked at the other caravan guards. All of them looked like the typical mercenary: burly men clad in loose-fitting fur coats over rough cotton clothing. Henry knew he'd likely stand out, but that didn't matter. No matter what other might think, he was successful, where many weren't.

"Alright then," the caravan head said, walking out of the guild stables with the dwarf, "I assume we're all ready to depart. Well then...Yamras?"

"Let's get on the road then, before our beards fall out," the dwarf called out, wheeling about.

"Let's go!" shouted the caravan head, turning to follow the dwarf.

The sound of creaking wood echoed down the street as the first of the horse-pulled wagons began to roll out of the building. Henry moved into position to the left and front, mirroring one of the other guards on the right. The other two fell back as more wagons began to emerge.

Walking along, Henry realized he'd already forgotten the caravan master's name, despite learning it earlier. It probably didn't matter, as it wasn't as if the man was of any real importance in the long run. The dwarf was the one to watch, given he was representing his people here in Amestraton. Especially since the dwarf indicated he wasn't the most diplomatic, with his public argument in the traders' guild.

Henry would have to be very cautious, as this situation had all kinds of possible problems that could result. Having very little idea what awaited them in Pordrin Valley, he was at a definite disadvantage. He probably should asked Mary to give him more information about the dwarves. He hadn't thought about it though, and the fault was his own.

Henry'd just have to handle any problems as they came. At least he was adept at that method, even if he preferred not to resort to it. Walking onward, he reflected that at least, based on what little he knew, the dwarves were not subject to change. If that was true, and Henry hoped it was, he shouldn't have any problems.

* * * * *

Mary set the tray down, and began to set food around the table. For a second, she wished her father was here to help her serve the food. She resisted the urge to snort, knowing her father would never even offer to do such. He claimed it was her job, so she should be the one to handle it. Her father probably didn't just want to have to do the work involved. Not that Mary could really blame him. Half the time she didn't want to do the work involved either. Except when it was cooking, of course.

Finishing serving the dishes out to Robert, Sarah, and Michael, she moved against the wall and waited. Normally Mary would have gone off to eat herself, but with Sarah being ill, she didn't think that was worth the bother. If Sarah had another coughing attack, she'd be needed to handle it.

"It's alright, Mary," Robert said, apparently realizing what she was doing. "You need to go and eat."

"Yes, Ro...Master Williamkin," Mary spoke, nearly calling Robert by his first name. She wasn't about to let her father catch her acting that way. Even if he wasn't in the room, she wasn't about to say anything that could get repeated.

Leaving the dining hall, Mary found herself hoping that all the effort she was exerting in order to improve her father's view of her was working. It would make it so much easier when she finally revealed her plans with Henry to him. Mary knew he would disapprove no matter what she did, so she knew that tempering that disapproval was the best approach.

To do that, she'd have to act the obedient maid for just a little longer. It really didn't take much more effort than what her work normally involved. Not that her father would know that, but Mary had no intention of telling him, for obvious reasons.

Walking into the kitchen, she found exactly what she had expected: her father already eating. Mary began to prepare her own plate of food, her attention partly on her father. He said nothing, and the only sound was the faint crackle of the stove's flames.

* * * * *

Standing in the shade of a pine tree atop a hill, Henry was mildly surprised that they were stopping this early. He would have figured the caravan could have kept going for another hour or two. It was true that the terrain was beginning to get more hilly, and therefore understandable that some caution would be exercised. Still, this seemed a little excessive to Henry.

Kneeling down, he examined the ground. A single wolf track, many days old, was the only sign of any possible trouble. This job was looking easier and easier, which should have made Henry more relaxed. Instead, though, he felt more tense, as if trouble was brewing.

That was completely ridiculous, a fool's notion, and Henry knew it. Perhaps he was more tired than he thought. He ought to know better than to become too paranoid. After all, if you were looking for signs of danger, Henry reminded himself, you'd find them, regardless of whether or not they were genuine.

"Find anything?" the caravan head asked, coming up behind Henry.

"Nothing recent," Henry said, wondering what the man expected him to have found.

"Good," the caravan head answered. Henry admitted it was slightly awkward not to remember the man's name, but that was a minor issue. "Heard the same from the other guards. So it should be safe," concluded the caravan head...Christopher, that was his name. At least, that's what Henry thought he remembered. He really needed to stop forgetting that sort of thing.

Moving back to join the caravan, which was in a small glade at the bottom of the hill, Henry yawned. He definitely needed to be in better physical condition. He'd worry about that another time, when he wasn't having to focus on a job.

* * * * *

"Wait," her father said suddenly.

"Yes?" Mary turned from the door to her room, feeling slightly cautious. Usually when her father approached her like this, it meant he was about to lecture her.

"Why have you been acting so strange recently?" her father frowned, crossing his arms.

Mary was honestly confused. She wasn't the one acting strange recently, he was. All she'd been doing was actually going along with what he wanted...and then it hit her. Of course he would find a sudden shift in her behavior strange. Even though she had been seeing Henry for many months, it had only been a few days ago that she had started trying to earn her father's goodwill. Clearly the sudden change had alarmed him, and made him suspicious.

She yawned, feeling quite sleepy. However, Mary knew she needed to straighten this out now, so that there wouldn't be any real problems. As tempting as it was to tell her father the truth, she knew it was far too soon to reveal the details to him. For now, she needed to ease his worries.

"I was only trying to do a better job," Mary looked her father in the eye, "I would have thought that would make you happy."

Her father fell silent for a long moment, looking at her. Mary felt suddenly very nervous, wondering what he was going to say next. "Alright," he finally spoke, not looking at her, "But you should be doing it for your own sake, not just to please me. Sleep well." With that, he turned and entered his own room, closing the door behind him gently.

Mary shook her head, entering her own bedroom. Sitting on her bed, she stretched her legs out, touching the opposite wall with her feet, trying to calm herself. She was fortunate that he had believed her. If he had been the suspicious type, this could have been troublesome. Mary's father lacked the imagination necessary to think of these things. He was certainly no Henry, she noted amusedly.

As for his advice, Mary knew she could readily ignore it. In her case, making her father happy and doing things for her own sake amounted to the same thing. Perhaps, though, she could be a bit more subtle about the whole affair. Mary admitted that she possibly could have tried too hard to change her image.

She'd worry about that starting tomorrow. Standing up, she stepped over and began getting out her nightclothes. Mary knew the age-old saying about sleep and empty heads, and how true it was. Right now, she needed it more than ever. After all, if she wasn't well rested, her father would notice. The last thing she needed was drawing more attention from him.

Finishing putting on her nightclothes, Mary laid back down and pulled the blankets around her. Sighing with pleasure at the warmth, she closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to come.

* * * * *

Henry looked down at his blankets, satisfied. While the remaining three guards, along with the caravan workers, sat around the large campfire and shared their rations, Henry preferred not to indulge himself like that. While they might forget they were on the job, he definitely wasn't about to. That was what separated an average mercenary from someone like Henry, after all.

For now, he would rest until the time came to take the second watch. There had to be a reason Williamkin was willing to have the guild pay the costs of four mercenaries, so Henry considered what precautions he had to take. Especially considering his physical stature, which meant most likely any hungry predator would likely go after him first.

Thus he had chosen a spot fairly close to the campfire to sleep. It was the safest course of action, and one that had saved Henry in the past. He briefly remembered finding the remains of that one mercenary, and resisted the urge to shudder. No one, no matter how much of a fool they were, deserved that fate.

Fortunately, there didn't seem to be any possible problems from what he had seen. Still, Henry planned on being vigilant. He wasn't about to let a hungry wild beast kill him, not after everything he had survived.

* * * * *

Mary hummed quietly as she entered the kitchen. She was feeling quite refreshed after a full night's sleep. In contrast, her father had looked slightly tired when she saw him, which worried her a little. He was getting older, although she didn't like to think about it. Mary reminded herself to encourage him to get some more sleep when she had the opportunity.

For now, she'd better prepare breakfast. Flatcakes were probably best again, being relatively easy to make. Mary began to get out the ingredients, only to hear a noise from the door. She turned to see her father standing there, looking as tired as ever.

"No breakfast today," he said, confusing Mary.

"Why?" Mary asked, setting down a sack of flour she had been measuring out of.

"Doctor Andrewkin is here," her father explained, "You'll need to prepare tea and take it to Master Williamkin's bedroom."

Mary wondered briefly why the doctor had come so early in the morning. "Alright," she shrugged, not overly concerned about the details. Her father nodded, and left to go handle...something else. Half the time, Mary wasn't even certain of what he did, other than stand around in the front hall.

She needed to get started with the tea though. At least this way Sarah would get the treatment she deserved, which was a good thing. Between that and managing to placate her father, Mary felt things were looking good. As far as she could tell, there didn't seem to be anything that could possibly cause any problems with Henry and her plans.

Pulling out the container of tea leaves, Mary began to hum again. Today, she thought, was going to be a very good day.

* * * * *

Watching as the caravan began to move again, Henry was thinking hard. He'd been surprised to find there hadn't been any trouble over the night, and he was beginning to wonder about the necessity of four guards.

"You coming?" one of the other guards called out to him. Henry shook his head, and began to move out. He could worry about the lack of danger later. For now, he'd better focus on the doing his job. Speeding up, he rapidly caught up to the rolling wagons, and took his position alongside them.

Looking around, Henry noted that the air was slightly chilly. He wished he had gotten out his fur coat, but he could deal with the cold for now. He was grateful he had prepared for the possibility of cold weather. Judging from the other mercenary guards, they didn't look like they had prepared. Then again, they might be able to handle the cold better.

With all the preparations Henry had made, he was confident this would go well. In a few days, he'd be back in Amestraton, six hundred worthings richer. With that much money, it wouldn't be that much longer at all until he was ready to have Mary move in with him. Henry doubted there was anything that could possibly interfere at this point.

* * * * *

Chapter 2

* * * * *

Henry grumbled as the caravan rolled forward through the foothills of the Greyspan. This new job was proving downright boring, and he didn't particularly like being away from Amestraton. Feeling a bit impatient, he pulled out and examined his sword for the ninth time this morning, checking for any unpolished or dull spots. As expected, he found none, and Henry re-sheathed the sword.

Councilman Williamkin, the head of the traders' guild, was paranoid, Henry decided. Four mercenaries hired to guard a trade caravan on a short trip into the mountains directly north of the city made little sense as is. In addition, the dwarf also appeared battle-trained, making this caravan particularly well defended.

Although he had to keep watch, there wasn't really anything to watch for. The surroundings were exactly what Henry would have expected for this time of year. The cool wind blew by, sweeping a few dead leaves past him. The cries of the local birds, echoing through the hills, indicated no threat. Leave it to a councilman of Amestraton to think every foul beast of the Northlands would be after his caravan, Henry sarcastically noted.

It didn't really matter in the end though. This job paid incredibly well considering the lack of risk involved. According to Henry's previous estimate, he would have enough money after he finished this to live comfortably for at least six months, and possibly up to a year. That is, assuming he didn't finish his arrangements with Mary by then, which he expected to.

Thinking about her, Henry wondered if he should buy a gift for Mary with the money. She certainly deserved it for suggesting this job. He shrugged, and put the thoughts out of his mind. He'd worry about that once he got back to Amestraton and was able to see her again.

* * * * *

Mary leaned against the closed door, pressing her ear to it. Words echoed through the thick wood of the door, "...rate, she can't be expected to live for more than, uh, a few months. The disease has done too much damage."

"So is there anything that we can do?" asked a deeper voice, one that Mary recognized as her master Robert.

"Nothing, except to try and, uh, comfort her. I recommend..." A hand grabbed Mary's shoulder and spun her around.

It was her father, looking down with irritation at Mary. "How many times have I told you about eavesdropping?," he asked sternly but quietly, his graying moustache bristling.

"About seven or eight?" Mary replied innocently, trying to deflect his anger. Naturally, it didn't work.

"You're far too old for that age-old ballad to work," her father sighed, "Trying to pry into other people's business, even Master Williamkin's, will only lead to trouble. Now go and finish your cleaning, before the representative from the Torthrus traders' guild arrives."

Mary flounced off, annoyed at her father. She knew that her duties as a maid came first, but Sarah's illness worried her, especially with what the doctor had said. Sarah had always treated her with great respect, and Mary, in turn, had always looked up to her for it. But with this illness, it bothered her, in a way she couldn't quite explain.

Shrugging, she turned her attention to the parlor, and went to find a dusting brush. Mary might not be able to help with Sarah's illness, but at least she could keep the house clean for her.

* * * * *

"Hey there," spoke a gruff voice from behind him. Henry turned and saw it was the dwarf who was escorting the caravan.

"Hello," Henry replied, not certain exactly how to greet the dwarf. He hadn't spoken to him before, despite the time already spent with the caravan. "Yarmas, wasn't it?" he asked, trying to remember what he'd heard.

"Yamras," corrected the brown-bearded dwarf, studying Henry closely.

Henry could guess what the dwarf had to be thinking. Compared to the other three caravan guards, Henry quite literally fell short by their physical standards. Even Yamras himself seemingly was more muscular than he was. While it didn't bother him personally by itself, it irked him whenever someone judged him by his height...as the dwarf was clearly doing now.

"Hey, lad," said Yamras suddenly, "No need to get all upset over getting my name wrong."

Henry shot a surprised look at the dwarf, "Huh, what?"

"Hah, don't worry," Yamras burst into laughter. Henry just walked along, waiting for the dwarf to finish laughing. After a minute, Yamras sighed and continued, "Lad, I was escorting these caravans when your mother held you in her arms. I know a thing or five about reading people." Another person who grew up the way Henry had might have flinched at those words, but not him.

"So," continued Yamras, "You going to tell me your name?"

Henry was slightly flustered, realizing he hadn't introduced himself, "I'm Henry."

The dwarf nodded, "Met a couple of Henrys before. You sure you don't know me from somewhere?"

"Never met a dwarf before," Henry replied evenly.

Yamras grinned, "Hah, don't be too sure, I might be an orc with a fake beard!"

Henry politely chuckled while Yamras burst into roaring laughter. Henry didn't know if the joke was just not funny, or only made sense to a dwarf. After a minute, Yamras calmed down and wiped his eyes dry with his arm.

"Anyway," the dwarf spoke more seriously, "I'm actually not surprised that you don't know me. I don't have a good memory for human faces, but I'm pretty sure Robert tries to avoid hiring the same people to guard the caravans twice."

"Robert?" Henry asked, wondering who Yamras was talking about.

"Robert? Robert Williamkin? The man who hired you?" Yamras raised one bushy eyebrow at Henry. Henry shrugged nonchalantly in response. He wasn't used to thinking of the councilman in terms of his first name, but it seemed that this dwarf was.

"Alright," Henry said, suddenly interested, "But are you certain that he doesn't hire the same people?"

"Sure as my beard is brown," Yamras stated firmly. Henry frowned, not exactly happy with this information. At the least, that killed any of his hopes of possibly getting this job again next year, after the upcoming winter and when the caravans began rolling again. Mentally, he reminded himself to look into this further once he got back to Amestraton.

He turned back to the dwarf, "So, how well do you know Councilman...er, Robert?"

"Known the man for twenty something highwinters, now," Yamras noted as the two walked alongside the caravan, "Hah, the stories I could tell you..."

"Maybe some other time," Henry cut him off, not particularly wanting to hear about Williamkin's personal life. Yamras shot him an odd glance, but didn't reply to that. The two walked along, accompanied by the creaking wagons and the cries of birds.

After a few minutes, Yamras spoke up, "So, lad, you've never been to Pordrin. That mean you haven't tried our ale yet?"

"No," said Henry, frowning. He knew what the dwarf was probably about to propose, and he wasn't pleased at the prospect. Henry personally preferred not to drink ales, beers or other such drinks. Water and cow's milk was usually good enough for him.

Yamras heartily slapped Henry on the back, knocking the wind out of him. "We'll have to fix that, lad! We'll have plenty of ales once we get there tonight, and you'll see that we brew the best stuff."

Henry nodded, making a note to limit how much he drank. "There's no denying it, dwarven ale beats anything," the dwarf grinned. "Let me tell you..."

* * * * *

Less than an hour later, the parlor was clean. Mary coughed, letting the dusting brush droop down in her hands. Of all the cleaning chores she did, dusting was the one she disliked the most. At least now the room was ready for company. Heading off to put the dusting brush, she began to hum the tune of an old song. As she did so, the words flashed through her head.

"There once was a pretty young girl/Who owned a golden locket/Because she wanted to be safe/She put it in her pocket..." Mary walked along merrily, humming as she went. That song had always her favorite, from when she wasn't even waist-high to her father up to today. After putting the brush back in the closet, she went to the kitchen to make some tea.

Entering the kitchen, Mary felt wistful as she looked at the wooden cabinets and cast-iron stove that had been here for as long as she could remember. She pictured her mother, standing by the stove, rubbing her daughter's hair fondly. Shaking her head and causing her horsetail to bounce, Mary cleared her mind. Her mother wasn't here now, and she had work to do. Moving forward, she opened the cabinet and retrieved the jar of tea leaves.

After setting a pot of water to boil atop the stove and with the tea leaves in it, Mary then prepared a bowl of sugarcane powder. Although Robert preferred his tea unsweetened, Mary had to allow for the fact that the Torthrus representative might prefer otherwise. And, Mary admitted to herself as she worked, she also preferred drinking tea with the sweet powder, imported from the south, added. Since usually Mary and her father ended up drinking the leftover tea, this worked out to her advantage.

A minute later, the tea was ready. Mary strained it to remove the leaves, pouring the tea into a silver teapot. She placed it on a tray with the bowl containing the sugarcane powder, as well as several matching tea cups and saucers. Having done this, she picked up the tray and carried it to the parlor, in preparation for the meeting.

Sitting back in a padded chair at the table in the room, Robert greeted Mary as she came in, "Ah, Mary, you've brought the tea with perfect timing. Could you pour me some?" Mary complied and poured the dark liquid into a cup. As usual, Robert did not bother adding any sugarcane powder and directly took a sip.

Mary took a position standing near the wall, in position to serve as needed. She guessed the meeting was about to start, and that it would probably be boring, as most of these meetings were. At least it was an opportunity to learn information, which was the only redeeming factor that kept Mary from becoming too bored.

* * * * *

"...And that's why Robert won't go to another tavern except that one," Yamras finished, grinning.

"Interesting," Henry responded, although honestly he didn't care one bit about what taverns the councilman went to. He supposed the information might be useful to someone, although he couldn't see a reason for it.

"Nice sword you got there," Yamras commented.

"Thank you," Henry replied, wondering why the dwarf didn't go talk to someone else. They would likely be much more sociable than Henry felt at the moment.

"So, I bet you're wondering why all dwarves carry axes instead of swords," Yamras said.

"Not really," Henry frowned, not particularly wanting to hear another tale about the whole thing. But he knew that it would better if he kept the dwarf from becoming too offended. After all, his payment might depend on it. "But go ahead and tell me."

Yamras grinned, "Well, you see, it's like this...

* * * * *

Mary did not have to wait long. Her father escorted the representative in, a tall thin gentleman with dark hair just beginning to show signs of graying. The man took a seat opposite Robert as her father discreetly left the room. Typical, she thought bitterly. He tended not to stay around when important visitors came.

Mary noted his relatively plain dress style of a simple wool vest over a shirt, with trousers. This was in contrast to Robert, who dressed in the rich flowing robes that indicated his status as a city councilman. Personally, Mary disliked the look of those robes. At least Robert didn't wear them very often.

The representative spoke, "Greetings. I am Timothy Davidkin, representative of the Torthrus Traders' Guild."

Robert nodded, "I greet you also. I am Councilman Robert Williamkin of the Amestraton City Council, and head of the Amestraton Traders' Guild. As representative of the Amestraton-"

Mary, feeling like yawning at the overly formal speech, was caught off guard when Davidkin cut Robert off. "I think we both are aware of your official position, councilman. If we could move on to matters of actual substance..."

"Well, if you insist," Roberts said, looking coolly across the table, "Let us begin."

* * * * *

Yamras nodded to Henry, "So you see, it's more practical than a sword."

Henry just nodded, not bothering to give away his real feelings on the matter. He found the dwarf's ideas to be utterly ridiculous. For every situation that Yamras had suggested an axe was superior, there was another one Henry could think of where a sword would work better. This whole issue was pointless anyway. It was just a case of Yamras apparently enjoying hearing himself talk.

"Well, anyway, I've got to get going then," Yamras trotted off, presumably to look at some other part of the caravan. Henry let out a breath, not ashamed to admit he was glad the dwarf had gone off. Talking to him was annoying, to say the least.

Hopefully the rest of this trip went smoothly and quickly. Henry was beginning to think this was a bad idea after all. He reminded himself, again, that the payment would be worth it.

* * * * *

Leaning forward, Davidkin handed a set of papers to Robert, "I believe this covers our revised requests for the new trade agreement."

Robert sat back and looked through the papers, face stony. Meanwhile, Timothy made a gesture at Mary, who moved forward and poured him a cup of tea. Much to her amusement, the representative added a spoonful of sugarcane powder to the drink, in a very grand and deliberate fashion, before taking a sip.

Robert completely his reading of the papers and set them down. "I believe I told your last representative on what conditions were absolute," he addressed Davidkin coldly, "Clearly, he chose not to pass the message on to you and your guild, so I will make it clear: We will not surrender any part of our exclusive trade deal with Pordrin Valley to you."

Mary was slightly surprised, as Robert acting like this wasn't typical of him. It had been months since she had seen him this obviously angry over anything. It wasn't hard to guess that the trade proposition was likely doomed.

The representative studied Robert for a few long seconds, then took a long sip of his tea. Setting his cup down, he smirked slightly as he said, "The tea is good." Mary had to force herself not to laugh at the man's obvious nonchalance.

Robert did not take it nearly so lightly, "Do not try to play that game with me. If you have anything else to propose, now is the time."

Davidkin picked up the papers, and sighed, "Far be it from me to play games, or waste your time then. I shall be going now." Without another word, the tall man exited the room, leaving Robert and Mary both standing there looking at the door.

Robert stood up, and also exited silently. Mary quickly moved forward and gathered up the tea set, and carried it to the kitchen. Once there, she took the tea cups that the two had been drinking from and poured them out in the long-untended garden that flanked the large house. She then deposited them gently in the metal tub used for cleaning dishes. Pouring herself tea into another cup, she thought about the meeting.

Davidkin's polite behavior in the face of Robert's reaction struck her as odd. Mary didn't know how someone could keep his cool while confronted by that. And considering that he didn't get anything out of it...Mary shook her head. She was no merchant, and she figured that she'd never quite understand the intricacies involved. Still, it bothered her to no end. What had the Torthrus representative come here for if there was no hope of negotiation?

In addition, something about the way Davidkin had acted reminded her of Henry. Suddenly feeling lonely, she leaned against the counter. She missed Henry, Mary admitted to herself, despite having seen him just two days ago. The fact that she had suggested the job didn't help ease her mind. She hoped he would be back soon, so she'd be able to meet up with him again for another night at the Three Brothers.

Taking a sip of her tea, Mary was jolted out of her imaginings by the bitter taste. She had forgotten to add the sugarcane powder.

* * * * *

It was shortly after midday that the caravan came to the outpost, about a third of the way along the last mountain pass between them and Pordrin. Henry, stifling a yawn, eyed the stone domed structure curiously. Apparently dwarves built their buildings very differently than what Henry was used to. Shaking his head, he turned to see Yamras walking up beside him. Yamras strode up to the wooden door of the outpost and knocked twice as the caravan came to a stop.

A few seconds later, another slightly older dwarf walked out. This dwarf ignored Henry and the rest of caravan, gazing steadily at Yamras. He then spoke, "The ancestors have gone before us."

Yamras replied clearly in what Henry supposed was a formal greeting, "And we shall follow after."

The other dwarf nodded at Yamras, "Welcome back, lad."

"Good to see you too, Doric," Yamras responded, thumping Doric on the back. Henry got the impression that Doric was not exactly happy getting patted like that. Yamras continued, either ignoring or not noticing Doric's reaction, "So, what's the news from the valley?"

Doric let out a breath, "Let me get my stuff and I'll tell you."

Yamras blinked, "You're closing the outpost so soon?" Doric didn't answer and headed back inside, closing the door.

Yamras looked dejected and sighed. One of the other guards, who had walked up, asked the dwarf, "Hey, why would they close up the outpost?"

Yamras turned gloomily, "The outpost gets closed right before winter weather, lad. This means the pass will get blocked off by snow, and no one gets in or out."

"Oh, alright." said the guard. Henry suspected there was something else that the dwarf wasn't letting on, but he said nothing.

Yamras ran his hand through his beard, and then brightened up, "Ah, no worries. It's only going to snow, as my beard should know!"

The dwarf burst out laughing, while the guard shot a confused sideways glance at Henry, "I don't get it."

Yamras calmed down to a chuckle, "Lad, if I explained the joke to you, it wouldn't be funny, now would it?"

"If you explained the joke to an entire city, it wouldn't be funny," Doric's voice rang out. The other dwarf had emerged from the doorway, carrying a large woolen sack over his shoulder.

Yamras merely grinned, "Of course not! That's why I'm not going to explain it." Doric chuckled at that one, shaking his head. Henry wondered idly if this sort of banter was common among dwarves. Yamras, still chuckling and not paying Henry any heed, motioned to the lead wagon's driver, and the caravan began to roll forward again.

Yamras and Doric took up positions at the front of the caravan. Henry walked aside one of the wagons, quietly keeping pace. All the while, he was thinking carefully. Yamras had indicated winter storms would render the pass blocked. According to what they'd been told, Yamras would be escorting the caravan both to and from Amestraton. Therefore, it meant Yamras would be unable to return to Pordrin after this journey.

Henry made a note to find out where Yamras planned to stay during this winter. He could make some extra money by referring the dwarf to a certain innkeeper he knew. After all, it always paid to know the right people, and Henry understood that better than most.

* * * * *

Mary knocked on the door of Michael's room. "Come in," said the young man, voice muffled by the thick wood of the door. Mary entered the room to find a scene that was all too familiar to her. Michael was sitting at his desk, browsing through a well-worn book. "Hello, Mary," he spoke, not bothering to look up at her, "You cleaned my room two days ago, so why would you come here?"

"Your father requests that you present yourself to him as soon as you are available," Mary spoke politely.

Michael grinned, "Come on, I know you don't like being formal. No need to start with me."

Mary smiled back, "Yes, but I'm trying to practice being more formal. My father..."

Michael cut her off, "Your father will nag you until another Plague comes if he finds you not being a proper maid, I know." He chuckled once, then stood up, "At least you're lucky he hasn't found out about you sneaking out yet."

"You wouldn't dare tell!" Mary protested, flushing with shock. She'd had no idea he knew about her excursions. At least he didn't know what she had been doing outside the house.

"Oh, would I?" Michael said amusedly. Mary felt a mix of annoyance and embarrassment at the young man's teasing. Michael laughed at her reddening face, "Don't worry, I won't tell. After all, I'm too absorbed in my books to notice such things, right?"

Mary slumped with relief as Michael headed for the door, "Best not to keep my father waiting, then." Without another word, he departed the room.

Mary, still feeling a little irritated, took a brief look around the room. She noticed Michael had not bothered to bookmark his spot in the book he was reading, and had left it facedown. She picked it up and slid his cloth bookmark on the page, then laid the book down. She froze as she saw that the cover of the book read A Treatise on Elven Dwellings. A memory stirred, of an eight-year old Michael with rumpled hair telling a much younger her with a smile nearly ten years ago, "I want to meet an elf when I grow up!"

Mary sighed. A part of her wished that she could have somehow helped Michael achieve that dream. Sadly, the days of elves were long gone, as Michael had eventually found out to his dismay.

* * * * *

Henry turned at the sound of Doric's voice, "So, Yamras took a liking to you, lad?"

"Yes," he admitted, not certain where the dwarf was going with this. Studying the dwarf, Henry could see that he looked worried, somehow.

"Thought so," Doric nodded, then muttered audibly, "Would be nice."

"Excuse me?" Henry was thoroughly confused. What could this dwarf be talking about in regards to Yamras?

"It's nothing," Doric said, a little quickly. Fair enough, Henry told himself. Affairs of the dwarves weren't his business. He was only here to do his job of protecting the caravan, not to solve everyone's problems like some notion of a hero from a ballad. Turning his attention back to the caravan, he kept walking along.

* * * * *

Walking out of the room quietly, she bumped into her father, who was standing there quietly. "I'm not happy," he began, looking her dead in the eye. Mary swallowed, suddenly fearful that she was in great trouble. "You drank all the tea without me," he finished, looking at her sternly.

Mary, despite her best efforts, couldn't prevent herself from bursting into merry laughter. A faint smile appeared on her father's face as he gazed down at her. Mary looked up at her father, face bright, "Oh, was that all?" Inwardly, she was relieved that he had not overheard their conversation. Then again, given his stance against eavesdropping, chances were he would never do it himself.

"Come then, you need to go begin preparing dinner," Mary's father said.

Mary nodded, "What am I cooking today?"

"Spiced dry pork with beans," her father replied, to which Mary made a face. Not again, Mary thought to herself in disgust. Her father noticed her expression and frowned disapprovingly at Mary, but said nothing. Mary resigned herself to it as she and her father headed for the kitchen. She supposed since she made flatcakes two days in a row, she could deal with making the same dinner multiple times in a row as well.

At least, she told herself, she would enjoy cooking the food. Ever since Mary was a child, the kitchen had always been her favorite place. Watching her mother cook and helping her with minor tasks, Mary had gradually learned how the basics of cooking, before...before she had to take over the job.

* * * * *

Henry paused, looking over Pordrin Valley coolly as the sun set. He had to admit that the valley was picturesque, with sprawling fields and many of the stone domed structures that the dwarves built and lived in. As the wagons rolled past, he began to move forward. Yamras and Doric were still at the front of the caravan, chatting quietly.

The caravan steadily descended into the valley. Henry strolled along, keeping pace with the wagons. Hearing a crunching noise behind him, Henry turned to see one of the other caravan guards walking up.

"Hey, Henry?" Henry studied that guard quizzically for a few seconds, before recognizing him as Erik. The two had worked together during Henry's brief stint as a bouncer for that one tavern, long since closed. Given his physical build, Henry had been less than effective as a bouncer, and had been fired after a particular incident involving a group of rowdy drunkards. It was pointless to worry about that now, however.

"It's been a while, Erik," Henry replied, shaking hands with the bigger man. Henry briefly wondered why Erik hadn't approached him earlier.

Erik grinned, "I would've talked to you before, but I didn't remember you from the Crow's Eye. Took me a few days to sort out that it was you." Henry shrugged, as he hadn't recognized Erik either.

"So, you think this job pays well enough?" Erik continued.

Henry nodded, "Bit too much, if you ask me."

"Heh, not that it's stopping us from taking the money," chuckled Erik, "So tell me. You still seeing that girl from back then?"

Henry paused, startled by the change in topic. "Yes, I am," he admitted to Erik, frowning.

Erik laughed, "Good for you! By the way, I've started seeing someone myself. One of those seamstresses who lives over on the south side of Amestraton. I figured I could stand to settle down, get a more stable job..." Erik's voice trailed off as he became lost in thought. His pace slowed, and Erik gradually fell back to the rear of the caravan. Not that Henry minded...he turned his attention to the broad valley before them, as they reached the bottom of the pass.

Standing next to a large boulder was a slightly plump female dwarf. Henry blinked once in surprise, caught off guard by the thick curly reddish sideburns that adorned her face. He shook his head, annoyed with his lack of knowledge about the dwarves. Henry turned his attention as Yamras walked up in front of the caravan to the female dwarf and embraced her with a hug.

"Yamras, you're late," said the female dwarf teasingly, stepping back away from Yamras.

"Sorry, Agita, but Doric threaten to cut my beard off if I rushed him."

Doric groaned at this, while Agita laughed merrily. Henry rubbed his face, trying to decide what to make of how often Yamras kept referring to his beard. Clearly, it was supposed to be a point of humor, but Henry didn't see it. Henry paused a second, as it occurred to him that he was taking the time to analyze someone making jokes about beards. He shook his head, wondering if Mary was becoming a bad influence on him.

Dismissing those concerns, Henry walked forward. "I believe you are blocking the wagons," he said dryly, pointing at the caravan, where the lead driver was looking increasingly irate at the three dwarves.

"Oh, sorry, lad," Yamras said, moving out of the way. Agita, shaking her head, and Doric, who scowled, followed. The wagons rolled forward, and Henry moved back to the right of them, keeping pace with the caravan.

* * * * *

"Are you going to daydream all day or get to work?" her father said sharply.

Mary gulped as she jumped, realizing she had been lost in thought again. She hurried forward and began cutting up the raw pork her father had gotten out. Her father quietly exited the room, leaving her to cook. Mary chuckled, remembering her mother had once told her that her father could ruin a meal simply by walking into the kitchen when it was being cooked. The fact that he avoided the kitchen whenever possible confirmed this for her.

Mixing the spices into a bowl, Mary took a deep whiff of them. By the Three Saints, she thought to herself, she loved the smell of the kitchen. After the spices were blended, Mary used a brush to apply them carefully to the pork. Finishing that, she placed the pork in a metal pan and put the pan in the stove. A few hours later, Mary could pull out the pork and serve it.

Mary nodded to herself and began gathering what she needed to fix the beans. Regardless of whether she liked it or not, she would prepare the food. That was her job, and for now, Mary had to go along with it.

* * * * *

Henry took a sip of the dwarven ale, and grimaced. He definitely did not like the taste, and probably never would.

He sat at a table in the dwarven great hall, which apparently doubled as a public dining hall for the dwarves. Erik sat across from him, the only other person at his table. The remaining caravan men were seated around the room at the other tables. Henry noted that for the most part, they also kept to themselves, not mingling with the dwarves also in the room.

Not that Henry blamed them. The low curved ceiling made Henry uneasy, despite the fact that he along among the caravan members could stand up with nothing more than a slight crouch. The clay (at least, he guessed it was clay) that covered the walls and ceiling was also unnerving. Henry had to admit, getting used to the dwarves would take a while. Maybe it was for the best that he didn't end up traveling here regularly after all. Besides, he'd had quite enough of the dwarven ale, despite only having drunken three sips.

Erik spoke up suddenly, "Hey, I forgot my bag! Could y-you go get it...hurp!"

The smell of the drunken belch made Henry wrinkle his nose. Apparently Erik, unlike Henry, did not have any problems with dwarven ale. He hadn't been paying much attention to the larger man, so he had no idea how many mugs Erik had already drunk. Sighing annoyingly, Henry stood up. If Erik were not so drunk, he would have told Erik to go get his bag himself. As it was, if he didn't go get it and made a drunk go out into the cold night, it could possibly hurt his reputation.

Henry pulled on his fur cloak, grabbed a lantern and lit it, and walked outside. The wagons were parked in a semi-circle right in front of the great hall, so he didn't have far to walk. He paused as he realized that Erik had not told him which wagon his bag was in. Henry shrugged mentally; he'd just have to search them all. He walked up to the nearest one, looked in, and froze.

Laying shivering, wearing strange and ragged leather clothes, was a young girl, on the verge of womanhood. Henry instantly recognized that she wasn't from anywhere he knew. He'd never seen anyone wearing an outfit like that, and it clearly was very impractical for the chill of the autumn night. That of course, begged the question of where the girl had come from. Henry raised the lantern to get a better view, and stared.

The girl had pointed ears, outlined by her short blond hair. Henry had never seen such a thing in his life. Suddenly, a memory flashed into his head, that of Mary sitting across from him in the Three Brothers, telling him about the legendary tales of the elves. However, the elf in front of him clearly was neither tale nor legend...and looked like she was freezing. Henry pulled his coat off and placed it over her shivering body. While it didn't completely cover her, it would help. The thick clothes he was wearing would keep him warm for now.

Henry sized up the elf. He figured she probably needed to be looked at by a doctor, but he had no way of knowing where the dwarven doctor was in the valley. Not to mention that it might be difficult for him to carry her. It was clear to him what he had to do, although he didn't like the idea of leaving the elf alone. Henry headed back into the great hall. He needed to find Yamras, and fast.

* * * * *

Mary brought the tray containing the spiced pork into the bedroom. She frowned sadly as she looked down at the ailing Sarah. She was snoring quietly, lying asleep under the blankets, her pale and worn face the only part visible. Clearly the older woman had been tossing and turning in her sleep. Mary set the tray down on the table next to the bed and made a quick exit. While part of her told her she should wake the lady up, Mary knew Robert would be unhappy with her if she did so.

Shrugging, Mary returned to the dining hall, where Robert and Michael sat eating in silence. She sighed dejectedly as she took in the stony looks on both their faces. The chill in the room could be cut with a dull meat knife. Mary had hoped for a long time that Robert and Michael could get along. Mary wondered, idly, if her wishing for anything better for Michael automatically made things worse.

She shook those thoughts out of her head, a bit concerned that maybe Henry wasn't the best influence on her. She'd been thinking more cynically lately...although maybe Sarah's illness had something to do with it.

Ignoring those dark thoughts for the moment, she stepped forward. "Is there anything that I can get for you, Master Williamkin?" Mary asked politely, her voice sounding surprisingly loud in the silence.

"No," Robert spoke quietly but sharply, clearly unhappy. Mary fumed inwardly, wondering what exactly had happened that caused this latest feud. Not that she couldn't tell the gist of it, as it probably amounted to Robert trying to push Michael into taking on a greater role in working with the traders' guild. Same age-old ballad, happening yet again.

The rest of the meal passed silently. Michael finished eating first, and marched off to his room, stomping slightly and looking a little ridiculous in the process. Had the mood not been so serious, Mary might have laughed at the sight. Robert finished and left soon after, leaving Mary to clean up the dishes. She quickly began gathering them up and placed them on the nearby wooden cart. Once all the dishes were on the cart, Mary pushed the cart out of the dining hall and towards the kitchen.

It didn't take Mary long to unload the dishes into the tub. Sighing at the work, she went to fetch a bucket of water from the well. It would be nice, she said to herself as carried the heavy bucket back, if her father could do this sort of thing once. But nope, she was the maid, and this work was the maid's job. Mary didn't want to admit it, but lately the gloomy mood was beginning to get to her too.

Mary shook her head, annoyed at herself. She should try to be more cheerful. It wasn't like her to be in such a mood about things. And yet, with the illness of Sarah and no prospect of seeing Henry in the next few days...Mary laughed, the sound echoing bitterly in her ears. Of all the odd things she had speculated as happening to her, being lovesick was not one of them. And yet, here she was, missing Henry like no one else.

She had to stop acting like this, Mary told herself sharply. If her father found out about her mood, he might suspect something else was up. Mary began humming again, trying desperately to find something positive to think about as she scrubbed the dishes.

* * * * *

Inside the Great Hall, Henry quickly spotted Yamras, sitting at a table with Agita and two older dwarves, chatting away merrily. Henry jogged up to him and spoke urgently, "Yamras, I need you to come help with something."

All of the dwarves looked at him in surprise. Yamras grunted and stood up, "Coming, lad. No need to be impatient."

Henry chose not to respond to that one, and led Yamras to the door. He glanced over at Erik, only to discover that he was passed out from one too many drinks. Sighing, he grabbed Erik's fur coat, drawing an odd look from Yamras.

Henry and Yamras went outside, and Henry walked up to the wagon with the elf. Yamras walked up and peered in. "By the ancestors," he gasped, instantly seeing what Henry saw.

Henry quickly exchanged his fur coat with Erik's, leaving the elf fully covered. "She needs to see a doctor," Henry told Yamras, who was still staring.

"A doctor...oh, right, the herbalist! I'll take her, you search the wagons," Yamras grunted. The dwarf lifted the elf up almost effortlessly. Hoisting her over his shoulder, the dwarf took off with a trot, heading into the darkness.

Henry shook his head and sighed. He'd hoped to get back inside and relax, but apparently he had more work to do. Yamras had a point, though. There was no telling what the elf had done to the stuff on the wagons. Although, thinking about it, Henry wasn't certain how she could have gotten on the wagons in the first place. No point worrying about it now, he told himself, as he began to go through the various bags and crates.

* * * * *

Mary wondered why Robert had summoned her. She was a bit irritated, really. She had been ready to sneak out of the house for the evening when the bell sounded. As annoyed as it made her, Mary couldn't just ignore it when he called for assistance. She walked in the door to the parlor, and was surprised to see her father standing there.

"I have a couple of errands for you two," Robert said from his position, seated in a chair, "Patrick, I need you to go pick up some more vegetables from the market, as Mary told us yesterday we were running low on some of them."

He handed a piece of paper to her father, and Mary knew it was the exact list that she had given to Robert yesterday. Typical, she thought. She almost never got to leave the house on errands. But then again, he had said a pair of errands...

Robert spoke, "Mary, I sent Michael earlier to take some paperwork down to the guild headquarters, but he is running late. I want you to go and fetch him."

Mary grinned to herself, taking back her previous thoughts on the matter. Although a part of her was still a little unhappy about not getting to do what she wanted, she could settle for getting out of the house, at least for a while.

A few minutes later, she left the house, putting on a fur coat over her dress. She shivered in the evening air, feeling the cold intensely despite her coat. She began to walk forward, clutching her arms close to her body. It was later than she had thought it had been. Mary reminded herself to keep a closer eye on the timepieces from now on. Of course, she knew, she'd probably forget about it, but it was the thought that counted, right?

* * * * *

The missing food was a problem, Henry sighed as he stood there. The elf hadn't apparently taken anything else, but the loss of the food...he had failed, as had the other guards. If the traders' guild found out, it would mean a cut to his pay at best. And rightly so, as they should have detected someone sneaking by them

Calm down, he told himself. It came down to how the dwarves decided to handle the situation. That was hardly comforting, given that he still knew very little of how they handled business in Pordrin. If anything, it could end worse...he'd have to bring it up with Yamras, who probably would be the one to handle this affair.

At least he knew that the elf would get punished too. Henry had no patience for thievery. If you had to resort to it in order to survive, you obviously made a mistake somewhere. He'd seen enough cases of it to know that for a fact. Whoever this elf was, she most likely deserved what punishment the dwarves typically handed out. Henry couldn't think of a way she could possibly avoid their judgment.

* * * * *

It didn't take Mary long to arrive at the guild. It certainly wasn't hard to locate, as the huge building stood tall above most of the rest of Amestraton. Looking around outside the guild, she noticed that her teeth were chattering. She couldn't really afford to waste any more time, as it was getting colder as night fell. Mary stood still for a second, that walked rapidly over and entered the guild, passing the pair of guards standing there.

The front hall of the guild stood nearly empty. A single man sat behind the front desk, looking incredibly bored. There was no sign of Michael in the room. A pair of fireplaces held crackling fires, which kept the room from getting too cold. Mary walked up to the desk. "Welcome to the Amestraton Traders' Guild," the man behind it drawled, "How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Michael Robertkin," Mary rubbed her hands together to warm up, "Do you know where he is?"

"Probably in one of the meeting rooms on the second floor," the man replied emotionlessly. Mary wondered if Michael staying around here was a common occurrence. It certainly seemed that way to her, given his response. Mary shrugged inwardly and headed up the stairs.

Michael, as it turned out, was in the second room she looked in. "Hello, Michael," she said, peeking in as he sat at a table, writing something down.

"Oh, so my father sent you to fetch me," Michael replied coolly, setting down his pen and gazing at her. Mary frowned, realized he was still angry at Robert from before. She rolled her eyes; this made life so much easier...

Very well, two could play that game. "Yes, you need to come home before it gets too late, Master Robertkin," she requested quietly.

"Oh, don't start," groaned Michael, "You honestly expect me to take you seriously?"

"Your father would be most anxious if you do not return soon," Mary responded, keeping her face straight, "You are already later than he expected, so we must hurry."

Michael sat there for a minute, then burst out laughing. Mary struggled to hold it in, but couldn't help herself, and joined in a few seconds later. Mary eventually managed to force herself to stop, tears welling up in her eyes from the laughter. Michael quieted down a little while later.

"Mary, that was impressive, to say the least," he said, shaking his head, "Somehow, I doubt your father will actually take that seriously though."

"Probably not," Mary chuckled, "But it can't hurt too much, right?"

Michael nodded, "I guess I had better come home then." The two walked out of the room and down the hallway.

"Why were you so mad at your father?" Mary asked tentatively as they reached the stairs.

Michael frowned at her, "He wants me to take over managing the Pordrin caravans."

Mary sighed, "Well, that doesn't seem too bad."

"I wish," said Michael miserably, as the pair walked through the guild's front hall, "However, that means he wants me to accompany each caravan...traveling to Pordrin and back."

Mary was almost speechless, only able to say one thing, "Oh."

"Now do you see the problem?" Michael asked, a tone of pleading in his voice, "I don't want to leave Amestraton. It's my home. Plus, with my mother ill..." His voice trailed off.

Mary hugged him lightly, "I wish I could help you. I'm certain this will all work out for the best."

Michael snorted, "You always say that."

Letting go of him, Mary feigned a scowl, "Of course, and I'm right! I'm older than you, after all."

Michael snickered, "By what? Five years? Of course, grandmother, that makes perfect sense!" Mary bopped him gently on the head as they walked out of the guild. She knew it was completely improper, but didn't care.

It was even colder than before, when Mary had come to the guild. Night had fallen, and Mary didn't want to spend any more time out on the streets than necessary. "Let's go," she said to Michael, and they began to rapidly walk back to the house.

* * * * *

Yamras walked up to Henry, who was standing just inside the great hall. Most of the tables had been pulled out of the way, and the other caravan guards and workers were now all lying under thick woolen blankets. As far as Henry could tell, they were all asleep. "Well, the elf lass is safe and sound with the herbalist," Yamras said, drawing Henry's attention, "She has a slight fever, but Rimos should have her healthy by tomorrow."

"So, what are you going to do about the elf after she gets better?" Henry asked, curious.

"That's up to the dwarven elders, lad," Yamras answered, "They'll make a fair decision, sure as my beard is curly."

Henry frowned at the possibility that the elf could get away free. "Relax," Yamras said, apparently sensing Henry's unease at the situation, "The lass won't cause any more trouble for us, so calm down."

Henry shook his head at Yamras, "The fact is, she did take some food from the bags of the caravan. And you're not going to do anything about it?"

"Bah, I told you already, lad. The elders will decide how to deal with this girl," Yamras replied, frowning at Henry, "We'll cover the expenses of any losses on Robert's end. We agreed to that, and dwarves always stick to their word."

Something about that left Henry even more uneasy, but he held his tongue. "All right then," Henry said calmly.

"Then I'm for sleeping," Yamras stated, eyes twinkling, "Agita will be wanting my beard in her bed...so to speak." Henry rolled his eyes at the beard joke, the fourteenth one so far by his count, as Yamras left the building. Henry yawned loudly. Time for him to get some sleep too. Tomorrow the dwarves would load the caravan with their goods, and the group would begin their trek back to Amestraton.

Henry rolled out the blanket and lay down, muscles aching. He really should have asked for help hauling Erik away from the table where he passed out, Henry told himself. Still, he doubted anyone would have helped him. Typical short-sightedness on their part, as they really didn't understand how they could benefit from such a thing. Favors owed and favors called in were very much required if you worked as a mercenary like Henry. Henry doubted the other two guards would be successful, with attitudes like that.

Henry wrapped his blanket around himself and closed his eyes. Enough worrying about the other guards; it was time for him to sleep.

* * * * *

Awakening, Mary groaned as she sat up. Wishing she could have slept in, she pulled a plain green dress out of the cabinet and quickly dressed herself. While she should have probably bathed, Mary didn't feel like hauling water from the well for that today. She made a note to do so tomorrow, as she probably wouldn't be able to bathe again until next spring.

She headed to the kitchen to brew up some tea. It would get her moving, and Robert normally liked tea with his breakfast. She would probably prepare some flatcakes...they were easy to make and generally everyone liked them. She reminded herself to make certain Michael didn't end up with strawberries this time. He was allergic to them, and she remembered the one time she had accidentally mixed some into his flatcakes. He'd ended up stuck in bed for three whole days, and her father had told her off very sharply after that incident.

With the flatcakes cooking and the water for the tea bubbling, Mary leaned back. She had a short break before either was ready, but it wasn't so long that she could walk away from the kitchen. Mary would just have to stand around and wait, something that annoyed her. To pass the time, she began to hum another tune, relaxing against the counter. The door to the kitchen creaked, and Mary whirled, startled.

Sarah stood in her nightgown in the doorway, looking pale and unsteady. "Sa- Lady Ellenkin!" Mary said, rushing forward to support the older woman. Mary helped her into a nearby chair, "Did you want something, Lady Ellenkin?"

Sarah let out a shaky breath, then looked up, "Thank you, Mary. May I have some tea?"

"The tea will be ready shortly. Please wait, Lady Ellenkin." Mary set, walking over and checking the tea.

Sarah chuckled, then coughed. "You know you can just call me Sarah," the older woman chided gently as she leaned back in the chair.

For a second, Mary remembered her own mother sitting in the exact same chair, waiting for a dish to finish cooking. The image quickly faded. "Of course," Mary said, getting out the sugarcane powder.

* * * * *

Henry stood beside the caravan, ready to depart for Amestraton. However, it seemed Yamras was running late, and the caravan wagon drivers and the other guards (save Erik, who was still a bit too hung over to care) were getting impatient. There had been no sign of the elf either, not that it bothered Henry too much. He didn't want to deal with something like that.

One of the drivers groaned, and Henry turned and saw Yamras approaching, trailed by a pair of older dwarves - the same ones Yamras had been sitting with last night, Henry noted - and a hooded and cloaked figure. Obviously, that had to be the elf. Judging from the fact she was hiding her face, Henry concluded that he was the only human in the caravan who knew the truth about her. Henry shrugged to himself; he was used to keeping secrets.

One of the older dwarves called out in a raspy voice, "As this girl has robbed the caravan, we elders of Pordrin have met and decided her judgment. This girl, Seluria, shall accompany the caravan and present herself to Robert Williamkin, to assist him in any way he deems fit. Let it be done, by the will of the ancestors!"

The other dwarves present echoed, "By the will of the ancestors!"

Paying little heed to the startled reactions of the other members of the caravan, Henry was amused by the declaration. On the surface, it seemed fair. She had stolen from the caravan, and now she had to work off what she stole. Ultimately, though, it boiled down to the exact same idea as Amestraton's outlawry system: kick the problem out, make it someone else's, and never have to worry about it again. The dwarves weren't all that different from humans, it seemed.

* * * * *

"Sarah? Where...oh, there you are," Robert spoke as he entered the kitchen. Mary felt a little embarrassed, hoping she didn't mess up her cooking. She turned her attention to the tea, which was about done, and began to pour it into the teapot. Once done, she got out a cup and poured the tea into it, then added some sugar, and finally walked over and handed it to Sarah.

"Thank you," Sarah said quietly, and took a sip. Mary immediately turned and checked the flatcakes, which were almost done. They could be left on for another minute or so to finish cooking. "She's a good girl, yes?" Sarah quietly commented behind her. Mary rolled her eyes. No, she definitely was not in the same room as them, she though sarcastically.

Mary instantly berated herself. As the old saying went: Don't think ill of the ill, lest you reveal your own ills. Given Sarah's condition, as well as her previous kindness, Mary had no business being critical of her. Turning her attention back to the flatcakes, she saw that they were ready. She began to sort them onto plates, as Robert answered his wife, "Yes, she is."

Mary sorted the flatcakes onto five plates. Hers was with blueberries, Michael and her father's were plain (and boring, she mentally added), and Robert and Sarah's both had strawberries. She placed hers and her father's aside for now, then placed Michael's on one tray, and Robert and Sarah's on another, along with a cup of tea for Robert.

"Where would you like to eat?" Mary asked, turning to face the two, who had fallen silent.

Robert turned and walked over to her, "Don't worry, I'll take it to the dining hall. Let's go, Sarah."

Sarah smiled sweetly, "Thank you, Mary." She then walked out, leaning slightly on Robert's shoulder as the two left the kitchen. Mary let out a breath. She didn't particularly like having someone looking from behind her at her work.

Mary poured another cup of tea for Michael, and put it next to his flatcakes. Picking up the tray, Mary headed up to Michael's room. As was typical, Michael was still in bed. Mary knocked once on his door and set the tray down just outside. He had instructed her to, and Mary knew full well how grumpy Michael could get in the morning. No sense in bothering him when he was in such a mood.

Mary walked back down to the kitchen, to find her father there, already eating his flatcakes. Mary poured herself a cup of tea, noting wryly she felt awake now. The surprise of seeing Sarah come down to the kitchen had done a better job than the tea normally did.

"I assume you have already taken the food to Master Williamkin, Master Robertkin, and Lady Ellenkin," her father stated. Mary really wanted to roll her eyes at him. Of course she knew her job, probably better even than he did. There was no need for her to be reminded of the fact.
Mary settled for a simple, "Of course." While it was sorely tempting to respond sarcastically, it would probably result in a lecture she didn't want.

"In two days, I believe Councilman Richardkin will be making a visit to our house," her father continued, "We have to make certain that the parlor is ready again."

Mary sighed inwardly. She had just finished it a few days ago, and there was no real reason in her mind to have to clean it again so soon after the last time. Still, she didn't really have a lot of choice. The last time she had complained to Robert about something her father had told her to do...it hadn't ended well. She resigned herself to the work as she finished off her flatcakes, eating them as quickly as she could without making herself ill.

* * * * *

Grumbling about the new addition to their caravan, the drivers steered the wagons through the valley. Henry moved forward as the other guards also took up their positions in a protective formation. Seluria had fallen behind the wagons, seemingly oblivious to the glances the guards were casting at the young elf. Yamras hugged Agita, who had been moving alongside the caravan. She fell back, and the dwarven escort moved forward to the front.

Henry kept pace with the wagons, thinking about the situation. He wondered briefly what Mary would think if he told her he had met an elf. However, it was probably best that he didn't mention it, as someone else might overhear. Besides, if Henry knew Mary, and he did, she'd find out all about it soon enough. Clearing his head, Henry reminded himself to focus. The job wasn't over yet, although he doubted there would be any more problems.

With Henry walking alongside it, the caravan slowly made its way through Pordrin Valley, towards Amestraton...towards home.

* * * * *

Chapter 3

* * * * *

Mary climbed up over the short fence. Getting out of the house was ridiculously easy, even for her. Robert had made a point not to actually hire anyone to guard his estate. Although Mary occasionally questioned the wisdom of that decision, for now she was not complaining. It made her excursion that much simpler to pull off.

She wished Henry could have been back this evening. It would have been wonderful to talk to him again. Honestly, it was driving Mary crazy, not having someone to talk to without her father nearby. Even if she didn't get to see Henry, at least there was that to look forward to. Some time at the local tavern, with food that wasn't spiced dry pork, would be ideal.

In response to that, her belly complained. Mary ignored it, beginning to walk down the narrow alley. She didn't regret shoveling her meal into the trash crate in order to trick her father. She knew full well how much he hated wasting food like that. She had been the one to cook the meal, though. It was only fair that she got to decide what to do with her share of it.

Walking down the narrow street, she decided to visit the Three Brothers again. She preferred their food above most of the other places she normally visited, and they were fairly close. Plus, it was the sort of place you wouldn't catch her father in. Mary took a look in the pocket of her dress, and fingered the worthings inside it. There should be enough to buy a good meal's worth, she estimated. And if not, she could always try to haggle the price down. Thomas might be willing to cut her a deal.

Mary snorted as she withdrew her hand from her pocket. The street was cold, despite Mary wearing a coat thickly lined with fur. Mary tried to remember what Henry had told her...was it rabbit fur, or something else? It escaped her mind, for now. Mary put aside the thoughts about her coat, as she strolled up to the Three Brothers. Opening the door, she smoothly walked in.

The dimly lit tavern lay before her. Surprising, the tavern was mostly empty. Then again, Mary had heard that people generally tended to visit the Crow's Eye. Mary had never been to the that place, but wasn't certain she liked the idea of going someplace larger with more people. Henry himself said he disliked the Crow's Eye for the same reason. As he put it, it was "too crowded for good business".

"Hey, Mary!" greeted a familiar voice. Thomas beamed at her from behind the bar, the chubby man holding a rag. "What can I get for you today?" the bartender asked, gazing at Mary expectantly. "Hmmm...how about some cheese-baked chicken and goat's milk?" she answered. While it wasn't her usual fare here, Mary felt like trying something different. And Henry had said it was good...

"Coming right up!" Thomas said loudly, hurrying back into the back.

Mary found a seat, and looked around the place. There were only two or three other customers, all sitting by themselves. Mary wondered who they were, but she knew better than to approach them. She had learned her lesson from the last time, and wasn't about to try that again.

Thomas came back out carrying a mug of milk. "Here you go, your chicken will be cooked soon," he handed her the mug while eyeing her, "So, where's Henry?"

"Away doing work, I think," Mary did not like being reminded of the fact.

"Ah, is that so? Such a shame, really," the bartender leaned back, "You two are some of my best customers."

Considering they were not daily regulars, Thomas's statement surprised Mary...until she realized a second later what it actually meant. Mary gulped, feeling bad about the whole thing for some reason. "Between the lack of customers and the fact the cook's assistant just quit, it's a tight spot," Thomas continued, "Bad business, this."

Mary closed her eyes, wincing at the bleak prospects. Thomas must have noticed the expression, "Relax! The cold weather also means that some people will be coming here instead of working, so things will look up soon."

Mary wasn't entirely certain that she believed that, but didn't want to hurt Thomas's feelings. "You're probably right," she said, forcing a smile. The bartender nodded, "I'll be back with your food when it's ready."

* * * * *

The camp setup was coming along nicely, Henry noted, standing over his blankets and bag. Unsurprisingly, he had been the first one to finish getting ready for the evening. Looking around, he saw the hooded figure of Seluria, staring down at the jumbled blanket that the dwarves had given her like it was some kind of rat. Figuring it might be worth his while to befriend the one elf in Amestraton, he walked over to help her.

"Need some help?" he asked, startling her.

"I don't think I need help from you, thanks," she replied in an quiet voice, her accent sounding odd to Henry.

Elf or human, some things never changed. Typical behavior, Henry thought, wishing to himself that more people could be more like Mary. "Very well," Henry responded, glancing around briefly to confirm that no one else was nearby, "But some advice: be very careful how you act, unless you want them suspect what you really are...elf."

Seluria gasped, whirling to stare at him. "How...you...why..." she sputtered, her face reddening with a mix of fear and anger. Apparently she had thought none of the caravan (save possibly Yamras) knew of her true identity. Henry sighed, as he studied the elf carefully. Time to make it clear she had an ally in him.

"I'm the one who found you in that wagon," Henry told her, "I have no intention of revealing who you are, though, so count yourself lucky."

Seluria, strangely enough, closed her eyes and bowed her head, exhaling. She stood there for a minute, unmoving. She then raised her head, "Very well, then. How do you fold these blankets?"

Henry demonstrated how to tuck one blanket under the other, keeping his eyes on the elf. Seluria paid close attention to what he was doing, focusing with seemingly no notice of anything else. There was something about her focus that struck him as...unnatural. He couldn't grip it exactly, but Henry knew most people didn't pay that close attention - himself included. Then again, it was probably an elf thing.

Once it was ready, the elf laid down. "Thanks," Seluria said, and rolled over, facing away from him.

Henry shrugged, and turned away. While he hadn't gotten to introduce himself, it was better to let her sleep. His instincts told him the elf would be an important factor in the future somehow, and Henry trusted his instincts. There were still two more days before they returned to Amestraton.

Walking away from the resting elf, Henry suddenly was confronted by Erik. "Thought you were still seeing that girl, you sneaky hound," Erik said, half accusingly, half admiringly. Henry didn't catch on initially, but then it hit him. Erik thought he was trying to court the elf? Henry shook his head, reminding himself that Erik didn't know the true nature of the caravan's guest, and was stabbing wildly with his guessing.

Henry instead opted for the blunt approach, "Of course I am." It annoyed him when people thought that every time a man talks to a woman, it was always romance.

"Of course, you say that now," Erik spoke sagely, "But I'll bet you'll switch ballads soon enough." The bigger man walked off, chuckling at what he thought was his own wit. Henry, meanwhile, didn't know if he wanted to slap himself or Erik more.

No point in worrying what someone as thick as Erik thought, Henry told himself. For now, it was time for Henry to get to his own blankets, and sleep until his watch came up. They would set out at the break of dawn, and Henry knew full well what would happen if he overslept. He still felt slightly sorry for that one man, but not so sorry that he would defend his mistake. The world was a tough place, and you couldn't just be carefree.

* * * * *

Mary was feeling quite happy as she left the tavern. The chicken had been good, as Henry had said, and she felt a lot better now that she had eaten. Now she headed home, trying to slip in before her father noticed her absence. Not that it was hard, given where he spent his evenings. He took his job as butler way too seriously to think of going out of his way to look for her. As odd as it seemed, Mary found herself grateful for his seriousness.

Walking down the street, Mary caught herself shivering. She disliked the winter chill, and hoped that it didn't get too much colder. She would hate being stuck unable to sneak out due to the cold. She couldn't do anything about it though, so she told herself not to worry. Whatever happened, would happen. No sense in getting all twisted in knots about it.

"Oof!" Mary grunted as she bumped into someone. Leave it to me to get lost in thought, she cursed inwardly as found herself knocked to the ground. Looking up, she saw a man wearing heavy brown robes looking down at her. It took her a second to recognize him. It was Brother Adamkin from the church. "My apologies...Mary, wasn't it? Councilman Williamkin's maid?," he said, offering his hand. Mary nodded, took it, and he hauled her up.

"You really should hurry home. It's too cold and too late for you to be out," Brother Adamkin admonished her.

"So, where are you going at this late hour?" Mary retorted, then covered her mouth, "Oh, sorry! I was just-"

"...saying what you think?" Adamkin cut her off, "No need to apologize, you have a right to ask."

"Oh...alright," Mary said slowly, still feeling guilty about it.

"As for where I was going," the robed man sounded hesitant, "I was returning from checking on Mother Bettikin, as she has been a bit ill lately."

"Will she be alright?" Mary was concerned.

"Hopefully, although she probably won't feel up to giving her sermon tomorrow." Brother Adamkin explained, "I'll probably do it myself. After all, I am next in line to be in charge."

"Alright then. I need to get home, so take care," Mary didn't want to dawdle.

"Farewell, and may the Three Saints bless you," he said, walking off.

Mary sighed and turned towards home. First Sarah, and now Mother Bettikin? Although Mary knew it was mere coincidence that both of them had fallen ill, it still bothered her.

Reaching the house, Mary climbed back over the fence and went inside the kitchen. The fire was blazing warmly. Mary was grateful that Robert had gone ahead and bought enough firewood to light the fires early. While she knew it was really for the benefit of the ailing Sarah, the warmth from the fire still made Mary feel better. It was good to get out of the cold.

Heading for her room, she yawned sleepily. Just outside her room, she saw her father standing there, looking concerned. "Oh, there you are," he said, seeing her, "For a minute, I was beginning to think you'd left the building."

"Of course not," Mary replied tiredly, yawning again.

Her father noticed this. "You'd better get some sleep before tomorrow." Mary nodded, and walked into her room. Her father closed the door behind her.

* * * * *

Henry was walking alongside the wagon when Yamras came up to him, frowning. "Lad, I thought better of you than that," the dwarf said, clearly upset, "But what you said to Seluria last night...I can't believe it."

"She told you, then?" Henry frowned also, "And what did she say?"

"Bah, don't act so uppity," Yamras shot back, "Did you even think about how'd she feel?" Henry started to respond, but Yamras cut him off, "Did you even think about this before you opened your mouth?"

"I helped her out," Henry pointed out, frowning.

Yamras turned and looked at him sadly, "You think that you actually helped her? Lad, I don't know what you've been taught, but threat-holding is not something you want to do."

"Threat-holding?" Henry asked, confused.

"Oh, what was it you people call it?" Yamras considered, "Black...lettering?"

"You think I was trying to blackmail her?" Henry was incredulous, "And you took her word for it?"

Yamras eyed him, "And your word is better than hers?" Henry didn't answer, as that should be obvious. "Just stay away from her, lad, "Yamras said, shaking his head, "We'll be much better off that way."

Henry slapped his forehead as Yamras walked off. It was typical, really. He should have known that most people wouldn't see that he had been doing the elf a favor. With an outsider like Yamras, the misunderstanding was, of course, worse. So much for getting on Councilman Williamkin's good side, Henry cursed mentally. Of course, if Williamkin really was the type to trust someone like Yamras, this probably was for the best. Henry hated working for fools, and the councilman was looking increasingly like one.

The caravan slowly moved forward, as Henry wondered what he would tell Mary. She personally liked the councilman, although she didn't care for the work she did for him. Henry considered just telling her, thinking it might convince her to leave. He'd hinted at it a few times, but she either didn't catch on or simply disregarded those hints.

No, the best approach would be not to say anything. Henry honestly doubted she would agree with his opinions about Yamras and Councilman Williamkin. Sooner or later she'd realize the truth about her master, but until that day came along, he would wait. Henry sighed. He really should have known better than to take Mary's advice and take this job. At least he learned something from all of this, and he was getting paid well. Those two things made putting up with all of this worth it.

As Henry noted, this was not going well. Still, he had handled this situation as best he could, certainly better then most could have. He doubted your average person had to face anything this aggravating. At least, this couldn't get much worse.

* * * * *

Things, Mary silently despaired as she sat gloomily on her bed and stared at the wall, could not get much worse.

She had not thought about the fact that the entire household, herself and her father included, were going to attend the sermon at the church, same as they always did. She desperately hoped that Brother Adamkin did not speak to her father. While the chances of the two talking were slim, the possibility worried Mary greatly. Maybe she could pretend to be sick...no, that would just leave her father asking even more questions.

Someone knocked on her door. "Hurry up, we don't want to late," her father's voice spoke, sounding slightly annoyed. Then again, he sounded that way quite frequently.

"Just a second," Mary called out, reaching for a brush. Normally, she preferred to wear her hair in a horsetail, but her father thought of it as...what did he say that time? "Disrespectful in public", that was it.

Finishing with her hair, Mary walked out of her room and to the front hall. Everyone was there, waiting silently on her. Obviously Sarah was feeling well enough to go out today. Mary had hoped that this morning meant that the older woman would be feeling better, and that seemed to be true. Mary put on her coat, and walked out the front door, following her father, Robert, Sarah, and Michael onto the street.

The five walked down the street. Sarah stopped for a moment, shivering slightly, and Robert wrapped his arm around her, murmuring something. Mary couldn't make out what he was saying, but Sarah nodded and leaned on him. Mary was reminded of one time she had went walking with Henry, and closed her eyes briefly. Nothing had really prepared her for feeling like this, and even knowing what she was feeling did nothing to relieve it.

"Mary!" her father said quietly and sternly. Mary swallowed as she realized she had came to a halt while she had been thinking. Trotting forward, she caught up with them, avoiding her father's angry gaze. Michael was smirking at her, but he said nothing. Falling in line with the rest, Mary and the other four continued their walk to the church.

Arriving at the church, Mary admired the ancient building for a second. Supposedly only second in size in all of the Northlands to the main Cathedral of the Three Saints at Salemo, the church was imposing and majestic. She walked in the front doors, as her father followed behind her. Michael and his father and mother brought up the rear, as the group went to find their seats.

Brother Adamkin was standing at the altar, looking quite calm. Sister Abagailkin sat nearby, looking out over the crowd, a slightly sorrowful expression on her face. The remaining brothers and sisters of the church, none of whom Mary recognized, stood or sat in various places around the altar. As more people filed into the church, Mary heard a baby crying. Mary suppressed a quiet grin. There was always a baby crying at some point during the sermon.

Brother Adamkin walked out in front of the altar and cleared his throat. The room fell mostly silent., leaving the cries of the baby audible. He paused a moment, than began to speak, "Greetings, men and women of Amestraton. I am sorry to say that Mother Bettikin is feeling ill today, but I am graced by the Three with the opportunity to speak in her place."

"If she were here," the brother continued, "she would be grateful that so many had come to this humble church. From the simplest servant to the richest man, all are welcome in this holy place."

Mary suddenly felt like panicking. Was he hinting about her meeting with him last night? Mary shook her head. It had to be a coincidence, she told herself, feeling sweat bead on her neck.

"Indeed, Mother Bettikin is with us in spirit, just as Saint Amestra herself is with us in spirit," Brother Adamkin's voice rang out, "Winter descends on the streets, walked by us all, of the very city named after her, one of the ancient bastions of the elven race. She and the other two saints, Saint Stephen and Saint Devni, watch over both us and Mother Bettikin from the Ascended Halls."

Mary shuddered at the mention of the streets. While she had never heard him give a sermon, she had no idea what to expect, and it certainly wasn't this. She was starting to feel trapped.

"But even without Mother Bettikin, we can still honor the Three," the sermon continued, "In every good deed, in every hand we reach out to help someone less fortunate who may have fallen to the ground, we do their work in their name." Mary nearly bit her lip at that one. Even though she thought she had gotten over that nervous habit, it came back to her. Brother Adamkin pressed on, "Let me then speak of some of the deeds of the Three, that we might better understand their guidance..."

* * * * *

Henry didn't take long to find Yamras. The dwarf wasn't about to stray far from the caravan, as the drivers brought a halt to inspect one of the horses' feet. Henry didn't want to see a horse injured. It would slow the caravan's return trip, possibly even by a full day. Henry wasn't getting paid by the day, after all. The shorter the trip was, the better.

Yamras was talking with Seluria about something, but Henry couldn't hear exactly what was being said. The two turned to look at him as he approached, Seluria's glare suspicious while Yamras seemed irritated. "We need to talk," Henry began.

"Come to apologize, did you?" Yamras cut him off angrily, "And you expect me to take it in, given that you didn't listen, lad?"

"Huh?" Henry started, completely confused. He'd come to tell him about the delay, not discuss what he'd said to the elf.

"Bah, I was thinking you were smarter than this. Guess I was wrong," Yamras grumbled, and headed off. Henry stared at the departing dwarf, not having a clue what was going on.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Seluria standing there, looking equally confused. Then it hit him what had happened. Henry inwardly groaned as resisted the urge to let his shoulders slump. How could he have not noticed something so obvious? Well, nothing to be done about that now, Henry reminded himself as he turned to face Seluria.

"I don't understand why's he angry," Seluria said hesitantly, "While you were...slightly rude the last time we spoke, you weren't too bad. But the way he's treating you..."

Henry shook his head at the elf, "I think he didn't want us speaking to each other again."

Seluria shot him a blank stare, "That doesn't make sense. Yamras is...very weird."

Henry suppressed a snicker, "That much is true."

"Anyway, I failed to introduce myself. I am Seluria Ni'teralsan Na'uldrini Kalokan," Seluria said, gazing steadily at him.

"Indeed," Henry was admittedly astonished at the long and obviously formal name, but he hid his reaction. "My name is Henry Tylaris..."

* * * * *

"...and so it was that Amestra, with her great wisdom and strength, rescued fifty and five of the younglings," Brother Adamkin continued, most of the crowd listening in awe.

Feeling much more relaxed, Mary had to admit that as good a sermon Mother Bettikin had been able to give, Brother Adamkin was an even better speaker.

"And like her, we can apply our own wisdom and strength to our lives, and solve all our problems. Indeed, we can do better than we have," the man continued, raising his arms, "Though the elves may not be among us, we can reconcile with the past and accept our mistakes. Just as the Three Saints united to bring evil's end, so we can unite as one people to continue what they started. Man and woman, human and dwarf, we all can move forward into a new age!"

Mary couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. Unity was so much better than the alternatives, like war and chaos. Even though Henry didn't attend this sort of event, she had figured out that he probably have agreed.

"And here, in Amestraton, with so many faithful of the Three gathered today, we can begin!" The voice of Brother Adamkin rose to new heights, as he stood up, seeming larger than life, "The elves may not be here today to share in this unity, but their spirits are certainly with us. And with that knowledge, we can go forward, as an example to the whole of the world!"

* * * * *

"Alright, that makes sense," remarked Henry as he walked alongside the parked wagons of the caravan with Seluria, although he really didn't understand. The concepts of Lesser Clans and Greater Clans had mostly escaped him. It didn't bother him too much, as he didn't really think he would be dealing with many elves.

"I'm glad that you understand. I'm not the best at explaining things," Seluria said. She seemed calmer now, somehow, although the elf still looked a little nervous.

There was something that was bothering Henry, though. "Is there a reason you talk like that?" he asked, frowning.

Seluria looked surprised, "I'm speaking normally,"

Henry shook his head, "I've never met anyone who talked like that, you know."

"I...see," Seluria looked down uncomfortably, "Should I try to speak differently?"

"No, it's not a big problem," Henry replied readily.

Seluria looked at him, a faint smile on her face, "Of course, Henry." Henry noted that was the first time she had called him by name. She apparently easily came to trust people. This would have been a problem, had it been any of the caravan guards but Henry talking to her.

"So, can you tell me about...Amestraton?" Seluria suddenly asked, looking curiously at him.

"Alright," Henry responded, inwardly glad the conversation had moved on to something else. He spoke up, "You see, Amestraton's a city, the largest in the Northlands. The city gets run by these eight councilmen..."

* * * * *

"And then, when the world knows the truth of the Three, we will achieve the Perfect World! Now go forth, in the name of the Three Saints, and make it a reality!" The crowd cheered, and Mary cheered with them. She wished Mother Bettikin had been here to see this, as it was truly inspiring. Brother Adamkin clearly had a gifted tongue, and Mary felt inspired. This trip to the church had been worth it after all...provided her excursion last night didn't get exposed.

Robert stood up, and the rest followed suit. The group began to make their way out of the church, slowly filing out.

They were almost to the doors when a voice rang out, "Councilman Willliamkin?" Mary felt her stomach do a flip as she looked over to see Brother Adamkin approaching them. "I'm curious if you will donate again to the church for this winter."

"I am open to discussing the details," Robert replied, then he turned to Mary's father, "Patrick, can you and Mary see my wife and son home while I discuss business with the brother?"

Her father nodded and led them away, with Mary desperately hoping both that Adamkin didn't mention it and that she didn't look like she was sweating a rainstorm or something else conspicuous.

The trip home was fairly quick, which produced mixed feelings in Mary. While she was all too happy to get away from Brother Adamkin, she didn't particularly want to return to cleaning the already-clean parlor. While her father showed Sarah up the stairs, Michael returned to his room. Mary was left to go find the rags to polish the furniture, which annoyed her to no end when it was already clearly polished...at least in her opinion.

Nonetheless, Mary knew what she would happen if she didn't, and she began to polish the furniture, wiping it down with a rag. She was sorely tempted not to even bother to use the polishing oil, thinking it would be wasteful. Mary settled for using less than normal, so that no one would ever notice. After all, her father probably would be able to tell if she had or not by the smell.

Finishing, she set the rag down with a sigh. She once had hated the stench of the oil, but Mary had grudgingly gotten used to it. What was the oil actually made of? Mary pondered this, realizing she'd never really thought about it. Who had such a brilliant idea of mixing so many ingredients together to find something to rub on the furniture?

Mary shook it off, refocusing on reality. No need to give her father more reasons to chastise her, not that he didn't have enough of them already. Time to go see what other tasks he had for her. Knowing him, he'd probably have her scrub all the floors in Amestraton if she didn't work to his satisfaction. Talk about no mercy, she thought to herself, as her father definitely had none.

* * * * *

"I see, so that's what Amestraton is like," Seluria nodded, "I have a heck of a lot to learn."

As the caravan moved along, having resumed the journey a few minutes ago, Henry briefly wondered if, like him, she herself was just feigning understanding. There was no reason to bother her about it though. He had to admit, the elf was a decent sort. If Seluria was a typical elf, then the elves were certainly preferable to many of the people he knew.

However, Henry had other things to take care of. He hadn't walked over to talk to Seluria, after all. "Well, I need to go talk to Yamras about something important," he said, nodding at the elf. While he knew there was no point in mentioning his original reason, now he was curious of what the dwarf was thinking in regards to Seluria.

"See you around," she replied, in what Henry took to be an elven farewell of some variety.

He nodded and turned to survey the caravan. Unsurprising, Yamras was far in front of the caravan, walking along. Henry increased his pace, quickly catching up to the dwarf.

"Before you say anything," Yamras spoke without turning, "Apparently Seluria trusts you, and while I may not like you, lad, I'll respect what she chose. After all, I don't know anything about elves."

"Um, alright," Henry hesitantly said, not certain what to make of the dwarf's apology. That was the problem with dealing with people you don't know, Henry silently grumbled. They just couldn't be counted on to pick the most intelligent choice.

Enough of that, though. "I was wondering...where are you planning on staying in Amestraton?" Henry cautiously asked, "If you need a place to stay..."

"I'm good, lad," Yamras interrupted, "Not the first time I've been stuck in Amestraton for the winter." Henry said nothing, and the dwarf continued, "I've stayed at the guild building the past times, and I'll likely do so again. Thanks for the offer, though."

Henry sighed, "Alright then." He slowed down, letting Yamras get ahead again and moving back into position. Figures, he thought. He should have known Councilman Williamkin had planned for something like this. Williamkin had gotten his position as a councilman by not being a complete fool. Henry mentally kicked himself, and wished he were back in Amestraton. This whole job was turning out laughably bad.

The only thing that might be beneficial was the odd friendship he had somehow struck up with Seluria. But try as he might, Henry could not see a way to make it work to his advantage. He highly doubted he could use her for recommendations for future jobs. Williamkin wasn't likely to take the advice of an elf on such matters. And besides, Henry was fairly certain that he didn't want to work for the man again.

And with Seluria obviously knowing no one else in Amestraton...Henry tried to collect his thoughts. She would probably end up in the guildhouse too, so he couldn't offer her a place to stay either. No, he would just have to take what he got. It wasn't like Henry wasn't getting paid well enough for this, after all.

Henry looked up at the sky, noting the sun getting lower. Only a hour or two until the caravan stopped for the evening. Personally, Henry would have preferred to keep traveling for a little more, but the drivers apparently didn't want to risk the horses getting injured again. Not that Henry blamed them; a good work horse was expensive in both time and worthings to raise, after all. He could live with the trip back was taking more time than it had been to travel from Amestraton to Pordrin.

Turning his attention to the wooded hills around them, Henry shrugged and sped up his pace again. There would be time enough for planning ahead for when he got back to Amestraton.

* * * * *

Mary stood in the kitchen, eating her food silently with her father. Thankfully, Robert had requested something other than the pork dish she had cooked yesterday...and two days before that...and so it went. Honestly, how could Sarah possibly enjoy eating that dish every few days? It didn't make a worthing of sense to her, Mary mused.

Taking a sip of her tea, Mary wondered when she could sneak out again. She didn't dare tonight. Leaving the house two days in a row was too risky, and she knew better than to take such a chance. Probably not tomorrow night either...maybe the night after, if were possible. It depended on her father, really. If he didn't feel like bothering Mary about cleaning, she might be able to pull it off.

Finishing her meal, she exited the room without saying anything to her father. Knowing him, trying to start a conversation would just result in her work being brought up at the first possible inventory. To be truthful, he almost never talked about anything but his work or her work. It was almost like he was one of those pre-Plague machines, just chugging along on the same thing endlessly. Did he actually have a life outside of being an ideal butler?

Mary shook her head as she headed to her room. No way to know what her father would do, she told herself. Whatever happened, would happen. For now, she could just wait in her room. Mary walked into her room, sitting down on the bed. She frowned as she saw the last book she had borrowed from Michael still on the small table in her room. She had forgotten to return it. Having nothing better to do, she got back up and grabbed it, then sat down on her bed and, flipping it open to a random page, began to read it again.

Hynomyn's inventions extended far beyond mere petty contrivances. His refinements to venting air, steam, and other gases allowed for the creation of steam wagons that could carry passengers, as well as leading to better design for buildings. This, in turn, allowed for improved trade and travel, and led to the expeditions to the Northlands.

Meanwhile, Hynomyn had also developed a steam powered lift, capable of supporting great weights. This allowed for the development of taller building without the need for staircases. Hynomyn was greatly revered for his accomplishments, and some historians are of the opinion that the true beginning of the Steam Age was his work, not some thirty something years ago.

* * * * *

Henry finished setting out his blankets, with a sigh. He was not pleased about having to take an extra day getting back to Amestraton. Henry guess there just hadn't been any problems on their trip up here, but then again they might have taken a slightly different route coming back that led to the issue with the horses. Not that he saw the point of changing routes, but he wasn't in charge anyway.

Looking up at the darkening sky, he admitted it was good looking. He remembered Mary telling him once something about the Three Saints and the stars in the sky. A part of Henry wished he had paid attention, because if Mary ever found out he forgot...her reaction wouldn't be pleasant.

Either way, he was taking the first watch tonight. He hoped the other guards wouldn't miss anything so obvious as Seluria sneaking in when their watches came about. Henry wasn't about to let that happen again. If the others failed, well, it was on their heads. But he wasn't about to do an inferior job of guarding the caravan.

Moving forward, he took up his position near the edge of the makeshift camp. It was going to be a long night.

* * * * *

"Excuse me," said Michael from the doorway, startling Mary, "I can see how much you are enjoying my book, but I would like it back now."

"Oh, sorry," Mary said, closing the book and handing it to him.

"No worries. Besides, I brought you another book." He produced a familiar looking book from his other hand, and Mary took it. It was the same book she had seen in his room the other day, the one about elves. "I figured you would really take a liking to this book. It's actually post-Plague, which is really rare," Michael said, face beaming.

"A post-Plague book?" Mary asked, surprised. She remembered Michael telling her once he'd wanted to get his hands on one of these books, but they were too expensive to obtain. Robert apparently had limits to how much he was willing to spend on these things, and books were expensive enough for several reasons.

"You know, you really need to talk to your father about getting out of the house more," Michael spoke abruptly, "I'm out of books to lend you, and I don't think I'll be getting any new ones any time soon." He grimaced, not looking happy at all at that prospect. Mary suspected that Robert was probably holding it over his head in order to get him to take a bigger role in the guild. That would explain his anger from two days ago.

"I'll think about it," Mary told Michael. He nodded and exited the room with the book he had gotten, leaving her to read. Mary snorted as she thought about what he had suggested. She knew exactly what her father would say, and the whole thing was pointless. Why bother asking a question you already know the answer to? Opening the book Michael had left her, Mary tried to dismiss those thoughts and began to read it.

Little is known about the ancient elven cities, and much debate has occurred over what they were.. Plenty of fanciful accounts indicate the existence of "crystalline towers", but actual physical evidence to support such theories is almost non-existent, other than a few kwarz crystal carvings. One popular theory is that the elves dismantled their buildings and took them into exile with them. This is easily proven false by obvious logic, but such arguments are not what we shall discuss.

What this treatise seeks to prove is that the majority of elven buildings, rather than being crystalline, were actually quite ordinary. Furthermore, this treatise shows that these buildings, both ordinary and extraordinary, in turn were direct reflections of the life of a people who were both more and less amazing than anyone ever realized...

* * * * *

Henry rose with the dawn, as usual. Damn, but it had gotten cold overnight, he thought to himself as he began to roll up his blanket. Up until this point, the weather had been relatively mild, but apparently winter was coming. The first snow, as the dwarves had predicted, would be soon, which meant more work. Supply runners carrying food and such to local hunting and logging camps were always in demand at this time. A simple enough job, and Henry was familiar with it. It was a shame it didn't pay very well though.

"Greetings," said Seluria from behind him, catching him slightly off-guard. Henry inwardly cursed; letting himself get so distracted that he didn't pay attention to his surroundings was not smart. At least it wasn't a hungry wolf, or worse, a savage orc, that had come up behind him.

Shaking his head, he turned, "Hello, Seluria."

"Hello?" asked Seluria curiously, "Is that a human greeting?"

Henry paused, considering the question. It hadn't really occurred to him that she might be just as much out of her range dealing with humans as he was dealing with elves. "Yes, yes it is," Henry confirmed, nodding, "Anything else you'd like to know?"

"Yes, there is," she said, a worried look in her eyes, "Am I really...the only one of my people you've ever seen?"

Henry paused, not expecting that question. "Yes," he settled for saying simply after a few seconds of silence.

"I see," Seluria looked downcast.

Henry had no idea what answer the elf had wanted, but he guessed that wasn't it. Seluria didn't say anything else, and after a minute she just walked off, leaving Henry feeling confused.

Putting aside his confusion, Henry quickly finished packing up. Just like always, he finished his preparations well ahead of anyone else. One would think the other guards, just as experienced as him, would be better at this sort of thing, Henry thought. But that wasn't the case, and probably never would be. After all, there were very few people who were as good at what they did as Henry was.

Hearing someone approach, Henry turned to see Yamras walking up, looking concerned. "What did you say to Seluria, lad?" the dwarf grumbled, "She was walking around looking like her parents were now among the ancestors."

Not quite getting the metaphor, Henry sighed and answered, "She asked if I had ever seen any other elves. I told her no, of course."

Yamras grimaced, "That's bad, almost as bad as my beard falling out. Although I'm not sure why the lass would act like that..." He fell silent, and began to wander off as well, apparently lost in thought.

Henry began to wonder if any of these people could actually finish conversations. Not that he wanted to talk to them particularly, he told himself. It was just aggravating when people halted in the middle of conversation for some reason. Another reason Henry preferred the company of Mary.

* * * * *

Mary brought the tea into the parlor, where Robert was sitting. He nodded at her, but said nothing, looking quite worried. It wasn't hard to figure out why. Mary knew he disliked the other councilmen and frequently disagreed with them. After all, it had only been about six months since the others had tied Robert into enforcing that new business law, and he had hated it.

Mary set the tray down, and took her normal position by the wall. Councilman Richardkin would be here soon, and she had to be ready to cater to his needs. She took a deep breath, and began to wait. Hopefully, he would be here soon. It wouldn't be exactly...Mary couldn't think of a good word for it...right for the other councilman to be late to a meeting that he scheduled.

An hour later, Mary felt like exploding. She had already had to go re-pour some fresh tea, as the current batch had gotten too cool for drinking. And still Councilman Richardkin did not show. Robert himself was looking annoyed, and Mary could not blame him. Suddenly, he looked a lot older than his forty-seven years would indicate, and she felt worry flood her. Would he end up the same as Sarah soon enough?

Robert stood up suddenly, "Well, it is apparent he is not showing." Mary shook her head, resisting the urge to slump against the wall. Her legs were fairly stiff after standing still for so long.

She moved forward to pick up the tea tray, only to have Robert speak, "Wait, Mary." She turned to see him smiling at her kindly, "I still have not gotten to have tea, yet."

"Oh," said Mary, caught off guard, "I'll leave you to it, then."

She started for the door, only to hear Robert say, "Hold on." She turned again, trying to decide which councilman was more irritating at this point: Robert, or Councilman Richardkin.

"Yes, Master Williamkin?" she asked politely.

"Enough of that," Robert looked evenly at her, "You know I am not into formality. Bring me the checkerboard set."

Mary hurried away to find it, suspecting it was in the main bedroom. Robert and Sarah had used to play the game quite often, and Sarah had taught Mary how to play too a few years back. However, as far as Mary knew, Sarah's illness meant they could no longer play. Mary wondered if Robert planned to teach Michael how to play. He'd never really expressed interest in the game before, though...

She quietly crept into the bedroom, where Sarah lay sleeping. Careful not to make any noise, she quietly opened the chest at the foot of the bed and retrieved the wooded case containing the checkerboard set, then left. Outside the door, Mary sighed with relief. For once, she was grateful her father had made her oil the hinges on that chest. Even though he could have done it himself...

Returning to the parlor, she sat the case down on the table in front of him. "Here you go," she said, wondering what he would ask next.

"Very well, sit down and play with me," Robert told her.

"Um...what?" Mary stammered, taken aback, "But I...my work...and..."

Robert snorted, "Your work can wait. And yes, I know you can play."

Mary sighed and took a seat. "I'll play blue," she said, knowing it was probably best if she let Robert go first.

"Right then, red for me," Robert nodded, selecting his pieces and moving most of them to the side. Mary did the same, and both of them placed their pieces on the board. Robert began by spreading one of his pieces, and Mary countered with the same. The first move never really mattered to begin with, she told herself, as Robert considered his next move.

"So, you have been worried about Sarah, have you not?" Robert asked suddenly, making his move and forcing one of Mary's pieces off the board.

Mary let out a breath and admitted, "Yes...I am."

Robert rubbed his forehead as Mary moved her piece, "I know your mother's death a few years ago upset you, but these things happen."

"But..." Mary protested weakly as Robert looked down at the board, "She's your wife. And..."

"Calm down," Robert said comfortingly as Mary felt tears bead up in her eyes, "I am definitely not happy in the least, but I have accepted it." Mary looked up at him, as he continued, "All things considered, there are plenty of people who do not live nearly this long. We have had a good life together, but it had to end sometime,"

"You...you're alright with it?" Mary wiped her eyes slowly.

"Hardly alright," chuckled Robert, "But, nothing can be done. Her time here will end, and all I can do...all we can do...is make it as happy as possible."

Mary didn't know if she should laugh or cry. Robert was almost directly quoting word for word from the Book of the Three Saints.

"Now, I would appreciate it if you finished our game," Robert smiled. Mary nodded, and looked down at the board, considering her options.

* * * * *

Henry couldn't help but smile inwardly as Amestraton came into view. Home at last, he thought. Soon he could get paid, and then move on to the next job. After he went to the local tavern to see Mary, he reminded himself. Probably tomorrow, as tonight would not be a good time. After all, he had to make a note of his earnings first. Business running ahead of pleasure and all that.

"So this is Amestraton," Seluria said, walking up beside him with Yamras. "It's...different." "That's one way of putting it, lass," chuckled Yamras, "I take it you've never seen a human city before."

Henry briefly wondered how she had snuck onto the caravan wagon without seeing the city, but dismissed it. There were plenty of possible explanations for it, so speculating about it did nothing.

"Nope, I got on the wagon at night among those hills, and didn't see the city," Seluria said, ending any need for speculation on Henry's part. Though he had to admit, her sneaking past the caravan sentry (whoever it was at the time) was pretty impressive.

"Anyway, lad, one more thing," Yamras spoke up, turning to Henry.

"Yes, what is it?" Henry asked, suddenly wary. He still wasn't certain how much he trusted Yamras, given his obvious friendship with Councilman Williamkin.

"Don't tell anyone about Seluria. Last thing we need is rumors bouncing around about an elf." Seluria looked mildly surprised, but Henry understood. "Alright, I won't," he said honestly, and meant it. After all, if it got out that he knew the elf, that would be very troublesome.

Yamras nodded, and turned his attention to Seluria, "And you need to keep your cloak up around your face." He gestured towards her head, which was uncovered, "We don't want anyone catching to what you are." Seluria looked honestly puzzled, but just nodded and put up her hood. Henry simply began to follow the caravan, ready to get back to the city. After all, it was his home, and there was no place he'd rather be.

* * * * *

Mary shook her head as Robert beat her for the second time. She just couldn't keep up with him at checkerboard. Then again, she'd only been able to beat Sarah a few times, so it made sense. She really wasn't any good at the game, and definitely was no competition for either of them. She put her pieces aside, and froze as her father walked in the room.

"Mary," he began, surveying the scene, "Is there a reason you are playing games when there is work to be done? The caravan will be arriving soon." Mary felt faint, she'd forgotten that Yamras probably would be eating here tonight.

"Now, I am the one who asked her to play, Patrick," Robert defended her, "You can relax."

"Very well," her father replied coolly, and left. Mary rubbed her face with her hands, knowing he would likely lecture her about it. She sighed, not really wanting him to talk to her about it. It wasn't even her fault, really.

"Look, Mary, I know he means well..." Robert comforted her.

"I know he does, he just..." Mary's voice trailed off, not certain how to say what she thought. After all, her father had been working as their butler since she was a little girl.

"Anyway, you need to go begin preparing dinner," Robert said, "Make some of that spiced dry pork, please." He turned and walked out of the room, leaving Mary standing there annoyed.

Just great, she thought. She had to make food she didn't like, her father was unhappy with her, and she still felt upset over Sarah's illness. At least nothing else was going to happen today, she told herself thankfully. She could probably go read her book later this evening.

Heading to the kitchen, Mary began to prepare the food. While she enjoyed cooking food, she was becoming less and less happy about having to prepare the same dish. Of course, the fact that she didn't like eating this pork was part of it, but she would have preferred more variety. Mary resigned herself to another night of pork, with the likelihood of many more nights to come.

At least tonight would be interesting with Yamras visiting, Mary told herself. Yamras was always entertaining whenever he came to dinner. Mary briefly considered asking him about Henry, then decided against it. If Yamras spoke with Robert about it, she would face plenty of trouble. And knowing the two of them as being old friends, Yamras would talk about it.

A sudden sound at the door made her turn to see her father standing there. Here it comes, she thought.

"So you were playing checkerboard with Master Williamkin?" he asked. Mary nodded, not trusting herself to speak. "Good, he needed something to relax. If you can, try to play some more with him." He turned and left, leaving Mary very confused.

Did he just...praise her for playing a game with Robert instead of doing her work? Mary wondered who had flipped reality to make her father say something like that. About the only way this could get any stranger was if an elf showed up at their front door. As entertaining as that might be for Michael, Mary knew that would never happen.

Shaking her head in bemusement, Mary returned to cooking. After all, the pork wasn't going to cook itself, despite what she occasionally wished...

* * * * *

"Five hundred? The agreement was for six, and you know it," Henry told the clerk, scowling at him.

"I'm sorry, but that is the maximum I have been authorized to pay," the officious clerk kept calm in the face of Henry's irritation. Obviously, it was time to try a different approach.

"Well now, I do happen to know certain people who are...very close to Councilman Williamkin," Henry said quietly, "Would you like me to tell those people you didn't pay me fully?"

This got the clerk's full attention, making him look nervous. "I...don't know..." he stammered, looking down at the paper on the desk in front of him.

"You'd better know," Henry replied, letting a faint tone of menace creep into his voice, "If you don't..."

"Fine, fine!" the clerk gave in, reaching below the counter and grabbing a crate full of worthings. The clerk began to count out additional worthings, adding them to the bag. "Here's your six hundred," the man was clearly aggravated, "Now get out of here!"

Henry was all too happy to oblige. Hopefully the clerk wouldn't find out that the "very close" person he knew was just a maid. Although Henry wouldn't mind getting a look at the clerk's face should he happen to find out.

Henry walked out the traders' guild and began to head for his house. Most people he knew ended up renting rooms at local boarding houses. Henry was fairly certain he remembered Erik telling him once about it. He was glad he had bought his house, because the boarding houses were filthy. It had been and continued to be somewhat expensive, but it was well worth it.

Henry sighed, not liking being reminded of the house tax that he had to pay monthly. At least the money he had earned would cover it, and leave him with more worthings to spend. As for the planned gift...he'd probably buy Mary a new ribbon for her hair. He'd have to make certain it was the same color as one of her current ones. Otherwise, she would probably not accept it.

Henry was somewhat amused at how far she often went to keep their meetings a secret. You'd think she was paranoid, believing the shadows had eyes on her. Henry knew better, of course. Someone like Councilman Williamkin was far too busy to care what his maid did or didn't do, as long as she worked for him. He hoped that Mary would realize this soon, and distance herself from the man.

Henry walked into his house and set his bags down. Although it was small, it was home. Time to count his earnings, before seeing about eating...

* * * * *

Mary had just taken the pork away from the stove when the parlor bell rang. Odd, she thought, for Robert to call for her at a time like this. Putting the pork down, she then headed for the parlor. The food needed to cool anyway, and she knew better to be late.

Walking into the parlor, Mary was surprised. Both Robert and Michael were sitting there, with her father standing against the wall - in the spot Mary usually stood in, she noted. Opposite them was Yamras, leaned back as if there wasn't a care in the world. However, it was the final person in the room who drew Mary's attention. Although her back was to Mary, she could definitely tell that this cloaked person was female. Due to the cloak pulled over her head, that was all Mary could make out.

Robert looked very serious as he spoke, "I apologize for interrupting what all of you are doing, but we have a very important guest. Seluria, if you would?"

He gestured to the cloaked figure, who sighed, and pulled down her hood, "I'm Seluria Ni'teralsan Na'uldrini Kalokan."

Mary and Michael both gasped, completely caught off guard. Mary glanced around, noting even her own father, normally stoic, had gone pale at the sight of Seluria. Seluria herself sat there, looking curiously at them, her elven ears standing out.

Michael was the first to speak, stammering as he stood up, "No way! How...she...I..." He sat back down, looking like a horse had kicked him. Mary couldn't blame him, as she herself was feeling faint. An actual elf, here...it was like she was living a classic ballad. But this was no ballad, and Seluria was definitely real...and beginning to look amused.

"I know this comes as a shock, but there are other problems," Robert looked around the room sternly, "It would be very problematic if other people here were to find out about Seluria's presence in Amestraton." He turned slowly, looking each of them in the eyes, "So, say nothing about her being here. Also, Seluria is not to leave the house. Finally, Yamras will be staying here as well."

Seluria nodded in response. Mary thought she looked a little sad at that, but said nothing. "That's all. Michael and I will now speak in private."

Knowing when she was dismissed, Mary headed back to the kitchen. Once there, she checked the pork, finding that it had cooled a little too much. Mary moved it back to the stove, wondering what would happen.

She then began to pour the tea she had stewing into the teapot when a thought hit her, and she set the pot down. Remembering her earlier inner sarcasm about what would make life stranger, she began to laugh so hard she clutched her stomach. She had predicted this, and she hadn't even known it! Tears welled up in her eyes as she began to cough from the strain of her laughing fit.

"Are you feeling okay?" asked a quiet voice behind her. Wiping her eyes, Mary turned to see Seluria standing there, looking worried.

"Sorry," Mary said, breathing slightly heavily, "I...I just had a funny thought."

"Oh, okay," said Seluria, looking around the room, "So, what sort of room is this?" Mary blinked, wondering what kind of question was that. Did Seluria not know what a kitchen was when she saw it?

Mary shook her head; no need to start pointing fingers over lack of knowledge. "It's the kitchen, where I prepare food."

"I see," Seluria replied, "And will food be ready soon? I'm hungry."

Mary chuckled at the straight-forwardness of the elven girl. "In fact," she said, going over to the stove, "It...yes, it's ready." Mary took the turkey out, "Come on, follow me and you can go eat." She set out for the dining room, Seluria following behind.

* * * * *

Henry sat down at a table in the Three Brothers. He was feeling like eating some of their cheese-baked chicken. Henry pondered if Mary had tried the dish yet. If she hadn't, he had to get her to try it. Who needed other taverns when you could go to a place like this? Sadly, Henry noted that business did not seem to be doing well here.

"Hey, Henry, how's it going?" Thomas asked as he walked up.

"Not bad," Henry grinned at the older man, "Just got back into town."

"Yes, I thought Mary had mentioned something like that when she was in here a couple of days ago," the bartender commented thoughtfully. Henry chuckled to himself, amused to find out that Mary had snuck out again.

"So, what do you want? Cheese-baked chicken, or are you going to actually not be boring?" Thomas halfway joked.

"Guess I'll be boring. Chicken it is," Henry said.

"Coming up," Thomas headed off to get it ready. Henry stretched out, glad to be back in Amestraton. Food here was definitely far better than the travel rations he had been eating. Not to mention the comfort of being back in his own bed.

Henry reflected on Seluria. She seemed like a nice enough sort. A little haughty, perhaps, but he had seen far worse than her. A pity he couldn't have found her a place to stay, but then again, neither Yamras or Councilman Williamkin would have allowed it. It did raise the question of where he planned to keep Seluria, if her nature was to be hidden. No sense worrying about it, as it wasn't going to earn Henry any worthings.

It was too bad he couldn't tell Mary about the elf though. Henry had hoped that, having made his peace with Yamras and the elf, he could have brought it up without mentioning their errors. But he had given his word to Yamras, and he would look bad if he did. As much as he cared for Mary, it was not worth throwing away his reputation.

Thomas brought the chicken out, along with a mug of goat's milk. Good food, and it was fairly cheap too. As he began to eat, Henry noted that was why he preferred this place to other taverns such as the Crow's Eye. Also, it was quieter here, so it was much more safe to conduct quiet meeting here without attracting attention. Henry remembered telling Mary that, although he didn't think she understood it completely.

Still, there seemed to be less customers then he remembered there being before. Business here apparently was slower then it had been. Maybe Thomas would pay him if Henry referred new customers in. It certainly would be easier than making a supply run. Henry made a note to ask Thomas after he finished eating. The food was too good to let get cold, and Henry began to eat faster.

* * * * *

Mary walked into her room and sighed, closing it behind her. Apparently Michael had thrown question after question at Seluria, irritating Robert so much he sent his son to eat in his room. And then, just to complicate things, he had tried to get Mary to ask Seluria those questions when she went to collect his dishes. While she might just be a maid, she was not going to fall for that age-old ballad.

Pondering, Mary wondered if Henry knew the truth about Seluria. However, based on what Yamras had said, he didn't know. Not that she could bring it up with the dwarf, as he would likely tell Robert. Mary actually felt guilty. She'd never actually hidden anything serious from Henry until now. But she had no real choice in the matter. Mary knew the matter of an elf was far too important to go spilling it in some tavern where everyone could hear.

Mary picked up the book Michael had lent her and began to read, only to set it down again. Chances were the book was now effectively obsolete, as she could just ask Seluria. However, if she was too direct about asking, Robert would end up angry with her as well. Mary definitely didn't want that to happen, as it likely would make her father upset too.

There was a knock on the door. "Yes?" Mary asked wearily, wanting some time to herself. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like she was going to get any.

"Our guest needs instruction on...where to sleep," her father's voice, sounding neutral despite the sheer ridiculousness of the request, said. Mary rolled her eyes. Well, she had wanted something new and different to happen...this is what she got.

"Coming," she said as she moved to open the door. Hopefully Seluria learned quickly, as Mary did not want to spend all winter playing caretaker to the elf.

* * * * *

Chapter 4

* * * * *

Mary walked into the dining room, carrying the tray of tea and flatcakes for people. She hadn't been certain what Seluria would like, so she had made hers plain, which was how Yamras preferred his. She hated being forced to improvise. Hopefully, she'd be able to figure out Seluria's taste in food soon. After all, the elf was a guest, and the number one rule drilled into Mary from years before was that you do everything you can to please guests.

To her surprise, Robert was not in the room. Michael, Yamras, and Seluria all sat around the table, waiting for their meal. Mary shrugged to herself, and served each of them, then turned to leave. "Um...aren't you going to eat?" Seluria asked from behind her.

"I eat in the kitchen," Mary answered, wondering why Seluria asked.

"Why don't you eat with your family?" Seluria insisted.

Mary was confused, "My family?" None of her family was even in the room.

"I mean, your brother is here..." Seluria began. Mary's jaw dropped as she turned to look at the elf. Michael and Yamras tried hard to stifle their laughter, causing the elven girl to shoot them a perplexed look.

"I'm not his sister," Mary explained, trying to keep calm. Had no one explained her position here?

"Cousin, then," Seluria nodded sagely.

"No," Mary's irritation rose, "We aren't related."

"What...I don't understand," Seluria turned to Michael, "If she isn't related to you, why is she allowed to prepare your food?"

Mary sighed at the obvious realization, while Michael kept sniggering. Apparently, it was some elven custom, and something that had to be explained. Mary had the nagging feeling she would be doing a lot of such explaining in the near future.

"I don't have to be related to them, I'm a maid, a servant," Mary tried to stay patient.

"I see," Seluria replied, although Mary honestly doubted that she did. Clearly someone was going to have to sit down with Seluria and explain things. Mary hoped that didn't fall to her. Although, most likely, it would be Michael who would end up with that unenviable task.

Mary returned to the kitchen, where her father was already eating. "Our guest giving you trouble?" he asked, apparently reading something on Mary's face.

"Don't ask," Mary was too annoyed to bother being polite.

"Very well, I won't," he replied in a dry manner. Mary got the impression that he was somehow amused by this. It was sorely tempting to throw something at him, but the only things in reach were her flatcakes and tea. Throwing those would be a waste.

The two ate quietly, Mary savoring the taste of blueberries. She never quite understood how anyone could dislike blueberries, as they brought out the best flavor of flatcakes. However, her father remained unconvinced for some reason and refused to eat anything on his. Typical of him, really. Mary wondered if he was actually capable of enjoying flavorful foods.

As she took her last bite, the bell from the dining room rang. Mary grumbled as she headed out of the door. She hoped this wouldn't turn out to be a waste of time. The bell rang again at she got to the dining room door. That meant it probably was Seluria, since everyone else knew better than to ring more than once. Sighing, Mary opened the door and walked in.

Michael was laughing in his chair, while Seluria stood there holding the bell cord, looking puzzled. Yamras was scowling at Michael, and Mary had a good idea what had happened. "Michael..." she said warningly, "What did you tell Seluria that bell was for?"

"I told her...it summoned a sorcerer...to help her," Michael sputtered, unable to stop laughing.

Mary wanted to slap him. What in the name of the Three Saints had gotten into Michael? It wasn't like him to pull such pranks. He'd certainly never done it before.

"Lad, you'd better not lie like that again," Yamras spoke up, voice low, "If you do..."

"Wait, it was a trick?" Seluria looked at Michael, biting her lip. Everyone else stood silently for a moment. Finally, Seluria broke the silence, bursting into laughter, "That was pretty funny!"

Mary's jaw dropped, as that was the last reaction she had expected. Yamras groaned disgustedly, "From now on, Michael, just stay away from the lass."

The dwarf paused, as if considering something. His beard swaying as he shook his head, Yamras left the room too. Michael shot Mary an odd look, and then left the room as well. Mary gathered up the dishes, muttering to herself. This was going to be a long winter.

* * * * *

The job board, surprisingly, had no jobs available on it. So much for the mercenaries' guild, Henry thought to himself. He'd have to seek work through other, more unconventional channels. Personally, he preferred it that way, as it meant less paperwork. Paper costing as many worthings as it did, it was just more profitable to take on jobs by word-of-mouth.

The trick, of course, was making certain you got paid in full. Even legitimate jobs, like the one he had just taken with the traders' guild, tended to have someone try to haggle down the wages. Henry, of course, had seen all the usual tricks, and knew a dozen different ways to counter them. Being prepared like that could make all the difference between earning your next meal and going hungry, as he knew all too well.

Henry considered his options. His best bet was to go talk to some of the people he knew, and call in a few favors in order to see if they knew anyone looking for hired help. There was always a job available, Henry knew. The only difficult part was finding the right people. The rest was naturally easy. Taking one last look at the job board, Henry headed out of the guild...

...only to bump into a man walking in. Henry fell backwards but caught his balance. There were definite disadvantages to being short, and this was one of them. Henry straightened up, then recognized Erik.

"Sorry, I...Oh, it's you, Henry," the larger man said apologetically, "Guess I should be more careful."

"No problem," Henry replied calmly, sizing up Erik. The man was dressed inadequately for the season, especially considering the weather lately. Running the risk of winterkill was not worth it, and Henry wondered if he should mention it.

"Oh, that reminds me," Erik suddenly said, "I came here looking to hire someone, so maybe you could take the job?"

"Oh, really?" Henry raised an eyebrow, careful not to show too much interest, "What is the job?" Erik grinned, "Simple thing, really. Some shop owner over on Samuelkin Road has been getting robbed regularly, and he wants someone to stand guard and possibly catch the thieves."

Henry nodded. Crime was a problem for many of the smaller businesses, and the city guard did little to help. Hiring mercenaries as guards meant this shopkeep was desperate. Desperate was good, as it meant more pay for him. However, there was something odd.

"Wouldn't one person be enough?" Henry questioned Erik, studying him closely.

"The shop owner wants two, so he told me to find someone else to work with and I could have the job," Erik explained, moving out of the way as a man with an eyepatch walked into the guild. Henry shrugged. Given the fact he'd just met and befriended an elf, that didn't particularly strike him as odd. "Alright, I'll take it," Henry responded, causing Erik's face to brighten, "When do we start?"

"Tomorrow is what he said," Erik scratched his head.

Henry nodded, then asked his final question, "How much is he paying?"

Erik grinned all the more widely, "Thirty worthings a night, for as long as he'll have us." That number was a ballad to Henry's ears, as far as he was concerned. Doing some figuring, it would more then cover his expenses, plus a little extra.

"Sounds good," Henry told the other man.

"Well then, I'll see you tomorrow," Erik said, walking out of the guild. Henry stood there for a minute, smirking. It was good to be back in Amestraton, where he was much more in his element.

* * * * *

"Bah, I dislike this city, sure as my beard is brown," Yamras remarked suddenly.

Mary looked up, startled. She was cleaning the parlor (again, at her father's insistence and her annoyance), while Yamras and Seluria had been sitting there silently. Robert had gone to the traders' guildhouse, after sending Michael grumbling to his room again, this time for his prank. Mary thought the punishment was juvenile, but then again, the prank had been too.

"Why? It seems nice enough," Seluria asked, looking at the dwarf curiously.

"Too many buildings, not enough open spaces," the dwarf grumbled, "No room to really breathe."

Mary shook her head, amused at the dwarf's complaining. From what she remembered, Yamras had always found something to complain about whenever he came to visit. It was worth knowing that some people never changed.

Seluria shrugged, and Yamras leaned back in his chair and took a swig of his ale. Mary blanched at the sight of him doing that. The ale smelled foul and bitter, and Mary betted that it tasted just as bad. Furthermore, she knew full well how tough it was to scrub it out of the rugs should any be spilled. And Yamras was far from the neatest person she had met. Still, Mary knew he didn't mean any harm, but it still frustrated her.

Yamras stood up, stretching and spilling a few drops of ale. Mary winced inwardly, as there likely went her next hour. "Well, I'm going to go relax in my room," he said a little loudly, and left.

Mary shook her head and left off dusting the large portrait. Pulling out a spare rag, Mary began to rub at the rug in an attempt to clean off the ale before it soaked in too deeply. Thankfully, it worked, and Mary looped the rag back around her sash before returning to the portrait.

* * * * *

"A coin, sir?" the little boy asked the man hesitantly.

"Begone, wretch," the man spat and turned away, walking down the street.

Henry stopped at this sight, reminded of a time when he had actually considered begging. He hadn't done it, of course. He had decided that he would never lower himself to that level. In the end, he had thrived where many others had been unable to.

It was a pity, but Henry knew from experience taking care of too many people was impossible. It took all of his intelligence and considerable planning just to prepare for Mary to move in. And even then, that could possibly go sour at any time, despite those efforts. Such was the nature of reality: success could be very fickle.

Thinking about it made him want to go check his account books. He knew he probably hadn't made an error, but it still bothered him. Henry set off down the street, leaving the beggar boy - now asking a woman for worthings - behind.

* * * * *

"Is there a reason you are rubbing everything like that?" Seluria spoke up. Mary sighed, as the elf's questions were beginning to irritate her. It seemed like she had no tact, and Mary was having to deal with a lot of it. Still, she supposed she couldn't blame Seluria too much. After all, she wasn't trying to cause problems, and chances were that the elf simply didn't understand.

"It's cleaning," Mary tried to explain, "I do it everyday to keep things clean."

"I see," said Seluria, for what had to be the tenth time today. Mary resumed her cleaning, being careful not to rub too hard. If this portrait, the only surviving one of Robert's own father, was damaged, there would be no end to the trouble she'd be in.

"By the way," Seluria suddenly spoke up, "What was it that Yamras was drinking? It smelled bad." Mary wanted to groan at the latest question. Did the elf not know there were better ways to figure out stuff then constantly ask questions? If all elves were like this, Mary hoped she never had to deal with another one.

"It's called ale," she answered tiredly, "It's made by the dwarves."

Seluria nodded, and looked thoughtful, "Maybe...the dwarves should not make drinks that stink."

Mary was unable to suppress a giggle at that remark. Seluria grinned slightly at that response, looking happier somehow. Then again, being who she was, the way the elf might have been treated...Mary was sympathetic.

"So, the drink you served me before was called...tea, correct?" Seluria asked again.

"Yes," Mary replied, making one final pass of the portrait. Satisfied, she moved onto the next portrait, this one of a much younger Sarah.

"It's an okay drink, although it's a little too bitter," Seluria stated from behind Mary.

Mary was surprised, "Why didn't you add the sugarcane powder to it, to sweeten it?"

"Oh, we don't use powders in our food or drink," Seluria explained cheerily, "They might contain poisons."

Mary almost dropped her rag on hearing that. What kind of people were the elves, such that dealing with poisons was part of everyday life? Mary genuinely wanted to go slapping some other elves, but obviously there were none to be found.

At any rate, Mary noted, it was clear she didn't want to discuss what the flatcakes Seluria had eaten earlier were made of. In fact, Mary decided it was best if she turned the conversation away from food all together. And she had a good idea how.

"How have the other people treated you?" Mary asked hesitantly, hoping the topic wouldn't upset Seluria.

"Robert was fairly nice, but Yamras has been a little weird," Seluria said slowly. Mary noted the elf had not mentioned Michael, but then again, given his behavior earlier, that was understandable. "Overall, they aren't that bad," Seluria concluded. Mary, having finished dusting the portrait, turned to see Seluria with a slight smile on her face.

Mary nodded at her, and returned to work. So much cleaning was left to do, and she wanted to be able to sneak out tonight to try to see Henry. For a second, she was tempted to ask Seluria about him, but she realized it would be best if she didn't reveal her relationship. Sighing, she turned back to her work.

Seluria, of course, asked yet another question, "So, do most people in this city live in places like this?"

Mary turned, and spoke, voice raised slightly, "I'm sorry, but I really need to get to work, so if you would please stop asking me questions."

Seluria frowned, "But I'm a guest, right?"

Mary, wondering where this was going, replied weakly, "Yes."

"Michael told me since you're a maid and supposed to keep guests like me satisfied, you have to answer my questions," Seluria smiled slyly, "I won't be happy until you do."

Mary burst out laughing. Seluria, and by extension Michael, had gotten her. The elven girl was clearly far more shrewd then anyone seemed to have caught on. While Mary knew she probably should turn the elf down, the opportunity to annoy her father, coupled with admiration for how subtle Seluria had handled it, meant she could not pass this up. "Very well," Mary said, calming herself somewhat, "What else do you want to know?"

* * * * *

Henry thumbed through his account papers. So, if he figured correctly...roughly nine months of expenses, not counting the money he would be earning with his new job, were covered. Good, that would work, and he stood to improve his worthing reserves. Henry set the papers down on the desk, then walked over to his bed and sat down with a sigh.

As much as he hated to admit it, he was bored. It was an unusual feeling, as he was used to having periods between jobs when he had nothing to do. Although normally he did stretching exercises both to pass the time and keep himself in good condition, he didn't feel like it now. Henry put those thoughts out of his mind, and stood up. Regardless of how he was feeling, he still needed to exercise.

He stretched then put himself through the exercises. It felt forced somehow, despite the fact that Henry had done it many times before. Thinking about it, Henry realized he'd always been that way, never doing anything that didn't help him financially. At least, he'd been that way until he had met Mary about a year ago. While it was odd, he had to admit that meeting her had been mostly a good thing.

Finishing his stretches, he went back to his account papers. Maybe he should start check his expense calculations for when Mary finally decided to give up working as a maid. He'd have to find a more reliable job, of course. He knew better than to live job to job, as Henry had seen far too many people try and fail to do. Naturally, they did deserve it for not having the foresight to plan ahead. Not a single worthing could be wasted, but they never figured it out.

Enough dwelling on the past, Henry reprimanded himself. Time to focus on the matter at hand, and see financially what he could do in the future. After all, these problems didn't solve themselves. He returned to his desk, and resumed checking his books.

* * * * *

"So, some people think elves are a legend?" Seluria wondered, looking a little out of place.

Mary nodded, "Although some think elves actually existed, most people don't think the elves ever existed. Or at least, as far as I know." Mary inwardly wished she did know more on the subject, but that was Michael's area of expertise, not hers.

However, since Robert was being adamant about Michael not being allowed to speak with Seluria, it fell to Mary to explain things. At least her father hadn't been too annoyed about her talking to Seluria rather than doing her work. Mary could live with that. Any reason to avoid having to do more cleaning was good by her.

"But, what became of the other two groups of elves?" Mary looked up, seeing Seluria eying her, "What happened to them?"

"I don't know about any other groups of elves," Mary shook her head, uncertain of what the elf was trying to say, "All of the elves vanished centuries ago, according to what we know."

"That doesn't match our history," Seluria explained, "According to the tales, there were three groups of elves. One group sided with the humans, and another group called for war against the humans. Our group, the Ni'arth, decided that we had to leave the humans and go live away from them."

Mary shrugged. She didn't know all the details of the history - again, that was more of something Michael would know - but it was fairly clear the two histories did not match up. She wondered which was right. However, it was something she doubted she could figure out now, so she set the problem aside. It was time to move back to the main issue.

"So, do you understand why you can't be allowed outside the house?" Mary frowned. To be honest, she would rather just let the elf make her own decision, but she wasn't the one here making the choice.

"Yes, I see," Seluria seemed sad, lost in thought. Mary wanted to hug her out of sympathy, but refrained, not knowing how she might react. Without another word, Mary got up and left the parlor, determined to find some more work. She didn't want to think about what Seluria must be going through, and anything that could take the poor girl's problems off of Mary's mind would be welcome.

* * * * *

Henry set down his account books in disgust. He had made an error in one of his entries, making his financial situation looking easier than it was. The costs of having Mary move in and start living with him would take out practically all his savings. While he wanted Mary to move in, he needed a few more months to earn the worthings to pay for it. Henry let out a shaky breath; he really should have thought about this sooner.

Shaking his head, he calmed down. It was better, after all, that he caught this mistake early before he had acted. If he had kept pressure on Mary to move, it would have been bad if she had given in. And knowing her, she probably would have done so soon. Damn, he'd been a fool. He wouldn't make this mistake again, that much was true.

At any rate, Mary probably would come over tonight. Henry checked to confirm he had not lost the ribbon he had bought earlier, then lay down on his bed. A nap would help, Henry thought. Maybe he should try getting a little more sleep. He didn't tend to sleep a lot each night.

* * * * *

Mary clambered over the fence. At the moment, she was glad that the Crow's Eye was on the opposite side of town from both the Three Brothers and Henry's house. It was strange though, how her father had been invited to go, leaving just Seluria and herself alone in the house. It wasn't typical of Robert to take his butler out to eat along with the rest of his family, but Mary could deal with it.

Fortunately, this made sneaking out particularly easy. After preparing a breadstack for the elf, Mary had simply left her in the dining room to eat. She didn't even have to feign eating her food, as Seluria would not know enough to spot it. While Seluria would be alone, Mary doubted that she would cause any trouble. After the talk the two had, she was fairly certain that the elf understood her position in a city that knew practically nothing of elves.

It was just as cold as before. Mary remembered Henry once telling her that the cold weather did not bother him as much. Of course, he wore coats anyway, which undercut his point. Mary couldn't even begin to imagine how someone could be used to this chill. She sped up her walk, desperate to avoid getting chillbite. If she did get it, it would be obvious to everyone that she had spent far too much time out in the cold, and she would be caught.

Walking up to the small house that Henry lived in, Mary took it in. It was small, but cozy. Mary actually found it to be more comfortable than Robert's spacious house, even though the small house was slightly dusty. This was mainly due to Henry never cleaning. Maybe there was something to cleaning on a daily basis. Mary snorted, and put it out of her mind. If her father ever found out she actually agreed with him on something, he'd never let her forget it.

She knocked on the door, and waited for Henry to respond. Hopefully he was home. After all, she wanted to see him again, and Mary was certain he felt the same way.

* * * * *

Henry yawned as he opened the door to see Mary standing there. Her face brightened as she saw Henry standing there. "Let me get my coat," he said, ducking back inside for a brief moment to grab it, along with the ribbon. Sticking the ribbon into a pocket, he headed out, and the two began to walk.

"So, how was the job?" Mary asked.

"You know, your master is a little crazy, making friends with a dwarf like that," Henry was not exactly happy to have this subject brought up.

"Perhaps he is, but you shouldn't be too mad at him. After all, he paid you well," Mary said, slightly teasing.

"True," Henry admitted, "However, I don't want to have to deal with any dwarves again."

Mary looked visibly perplexed, "Why? Were they rude or something? That doesn't sound right..."

Henry shook his head, "Not rude, just...odd. I got the feeling dwarves don't play by our rules." He flexed his shoulders, trying to keep warm. He must be getting soft, to let the cold get to him like that.

"Since when do we play by our rules?" Mary nudged him slightly. He wished she wouldn't do that. He was perfectly capable of getting when she was joking.

"Since you were a wench," Henry said, resorting to their personal joke, "Maids always play by the rules."

Mary promptly stepped on his foot, "When will you ever give that joke up?"

"When you stop hurting me when I tell it," Henry retorted smoothly, ignoring the ache in his foot. This earned him a brief scowl from Mary, which quickly gave way to laughter.

* * * * *

Looking at Henry as they walked together, Mary was reminded of the day she had met him. Just as then, he was dressed in a patched leather vest over a worn cloth shirt, and thick wool trousers. His dark hair was ruffled as always, and as was typical he looked like he had waited a few days too long to trim the scruff on his face. Not that Mary was complaining. In fact, she wouldn't have it any other way.

She let go of Henry's arm as the two entered the Three Brothers. Outside of Robert's house, there really wasn't any reason to hide their relationship, as she doubted anyone who mattered would see them. Even so, she didn't want to risk the possibility of word getting out. At his house, at least, she didn't have to hide her feelings.

"Ah, it's you two!" Thomas exclaimed, spotting them as they walked in, "Good business, this. Have a seat."

Henry walked over to a corner table and sat down quietly. Mary followed his lead, sitting herself directly opposite him.

"So, I did try that chicken dish the other day," Mary began, feeling a lot more relaxed then she had been lately. Hopefully, if she kept his mind on the food, he wouldn't bring up the subject of their plans. She wasn't entirely certain she wanted to talk about that right now.

"Told you it was good," Henry smirked, "I bet you didn't believe me."

"Oh, stop being so smug!" Mary gestured widely, "You're the one who kept telling me the pork was better for months. Then comes one day, and suddenly you think the chicken was a gift from the Three Saints!"

"And what makes you certain it isn't?" Henry's smirk did not fade in the least.

Mary sighed slowly, the smile dropping off her faced. "I thought I told you I don't like jokes being told about the Three Saints," she said seriously. It was her fault for bringing it up, and she regretted it.

"Sorry," Henry said, briefly looking upward. Mary knew that he probably wasn't sorry at all. It wasn't a big deal, really. After all, there were plenty of people who didn't follow the Three Saints, and Mary herself wasn't the most devout. She had to try to be less offended by people like that.

"Knowing you, I'll bet you already found a new job," Mary teasingly changed the subject.

"Of course I did," Henry replied. Mary was caught off guard; was he serious? "Serious? Yes," Henry nodded, and Mary realized she had just spoken out loud.

As much as she wanted to hit herself, she'd settle for continuing the conversation, "Oh...then, what is the job?"

"Guarding a shop from thieves," Henry looked thoughtful, "Been robbed a lot recently, so I get to go clean up the mess."

"A shop?" Mary thought about that for a few seconds, then something struck her. "Did the shopkeep get compensation from the traders' guild?"

* * * * *

"Huh?" Henry asked, thoroughly baffled. Why would the traders' guild compensate a random shopkeep for stolen goods?

"Oh, I should have realized you didn't know," Mary, seeing his confusion, said apologetically, "A few months ago, the city council passed a law. If the traders' guild sells goods to a store, and the goods are stolen, the guild will pay the shopkeep the full value of the goods. Of course, he has to prove he bought the goods from the guild with the right paperwork or something. I don't remember the details."

"That makes no sense," Henry was irritated by how illogical it was, "If that's the case, it'll discourage those people from bothering to secure their goods. After all, they don't have to pay a single worthing if they lose them to theft, right?"

"Good thing no one would ever try to steal from the tavern then," Thomas said, walking up beside them, "We'd never get a coin from the guild anyway, as pretty much all our food and drink is local."

"I thought you got ale from Pordrin," Henry noted, studying the heavyset man.

"Wish I could, although no one would steal that," Thomas chuckled, "Dwarves ship so damn much of the stuff down to the city, I ought to get it cheaper than the guild charges."

Mary frowned, "Odd, I thought the dwarves shipped more wool and cloth down, not ale."

"I don't pay much heed to stuff like that," Thomas waved his hands airily, "After all, I don't go selling wool in the tavern, do I?"

"I suppose not," Mary smiled, glancing at Henry. He barely noticed, as he was still trying to figure out what the traders' guild gained with such a law. Briefly he considered the possibility that Mary had misunderstood, but he dismissed that idea instantly. She was just as bright as he was. Due to her work, she had greater knowledge of what the city council was doing at any given point then most residents of Amestraton, himself included.

"Well, enough gabbing," Thomas spoke up, "What will you two be having tonight?"

* * * * *

Mary smirked inwardly. Henry had been so lost in thought that he had distractedly ordered the same dish as her. Time to make him regret making that wager with her.

"Pay up," she said, forcing a glare at him, "You've lost the wager, so you owe me."

"What wager...oh, did you order the chicken too?" Henry asked weakly, "Damn."

"Pay up," Mary repeated, feeling a grin spreading across her face. She couldn't help it. Getting the best of Henry this once left her too amused for her to hide it.

"Alright, I'll pay you...with this," Henry pulled out a ribbon.

"You...you were going to give me that all along!" Mary wanted to throw something at the man, but she settled for grabbing the ribbon out of his hand.

"So, you don't like it?" Henry smiled infuriatingly at her.

"Of course I do," Mary forced herself to calm down, "But you still owe me a pair of worthings."

"Fair enough," Henry agreed, leaning back in his chair.

"At least you remembered to get me one that matches my current ribbons," Mary grumbled good-naturedly, "Otherwise, I'd make you give me the five worthings."

"Why?" Henry asked.

"Can I throw something at him?" Mary asked Thomas, who had just come over bringing them their drinks.

"Go right ahead," Thomas winked at her, making it obvious to Henry that it was just a joke. Mary, laughing gently, doubted Henry would get offended. It didn't hurt to let him know they were just teasing him though.

Henry crossed his arms grouchily, drawing a giggle from Mary, "Yes, you two are quite amusing."

"About time you figured it out," Thomas laughed heartily, "Now, if you don't mind, I got to go tend to other customers." He walked off, still chuckling.

Mary shook her head, feeling quite merry. It felt good to be able to relax like this. Things had been looking grim recently, so it was nice to have a spot of cheer. "Thanks," she told Henry, taking a sip of her drink.

"Thanks?" Henry was bemused, "For what?"

"For being here for me," Mary replied in all seriousness.

"Careful, now, you're starting to sound like a cheap ballad," Henry chuckled. Mary glared at him. It figured that he'd make a jest out of the whole thing.

* * * * *

Henry leaned back and looked at Mary. While she was no legendary beauty - assuming such a thing actually existed - she was quite pretty in her own way, and that was enough for him. Tonight she was as pretty as ever, her brown hair tied back in a horsetail and wearing a lovely, if well worn, blue dress. However, something was off. Her smile seemed distant, and she was looking downcast whenever she wasn't smiling or laughing.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what Mary was thinking. Henry, being who he was, caught it instantly. Apparently the whole bit about Councilman Williamkin's wife was getting to her. It didn't bother Henry, naturally. He'd seen plenty of people sick or even dying. Such was a fact of life for many people of Amestraton. Of course, illness wasn't nearly as common a problem among those that could afford the best medicines, which meant Mary had never really had to deal with it to any great degree.

Although he would prefer not to admit it, it pained him to see Mary saddened like this. She normally had a bright disposition, but she was letting this get to her too much. Henry wondered what he could say that would make her feel better, as he took a drink. He really wasn't good at this sort of thing, he acknowledged. Definitely something he'd have to work on in the future.

"So," Mary spoke up suddenly, "You've met Yamras."

"Yes, I did," Henry set his mug down, "Decent sort, if not the brightest. And do you know why he keeps making jokes about his beard?"

"Not really. I think it's a dwarven thing." Mary explained, frowning, "He's not as dense as he acts, though."

"Really?" Henry noted a flaw in that logic, "You'd think he'd want people to take him openly. He runs the risk of not being trusted."

"Good point," Mary scratched her head, "But it's his decision. Besides, he could always surprise people that way."

Henry nodded. It was a tradeoff, deciding if you wanted your real abilities you wanted to reveal. He preferred the honest and open approach, himself. It made finding work a lot easier when people knew what you were capable of.

"Have you..." Mary started, then covered up her mouth. Henry glanced at her curiously, as she had obviously started to say something she would regret.

* * * * *

"Have I what?" Henry asked, smirking.

Mary sighed, irritated that she had almost blurted it out. Thinking fast, she replied, "I was wondering why you hadn't been discussing me moving in with you."

"Oh," Henry said slowly, expression neutral, "So why so curious?"

"No reason," Mary lied, hating herself for it. At this point, though, she might as well press forward with this, "So why didn't you bring it up?"

Henry looked reluctant, "I...I don't have the money. I made a mistake."

Mary was surprised. It wasn't typical of Henry to make a mistake when it came to working with money. He was normally meticulous, and accounted for every single worthing that he owned, owed, or would spend. Knowing him, it had to bother him too. Mary decided that some cheer was in order.

"Well, could be worse," she said brightly.

"How so?" Henry warily studied her.

"You could fall in," Mary kept her face straight.

Henry groaned, mock disgust evident in his voice, "That old joke? You should be ashamed!" Despite his tone, he couldn't keep a grin off his face.

Mary chuckled. Keeping high spirits was important, after all. Now if she could get her father to be in a better mood more often, things would be quite good. No, she told herself. Thinking about her father or the situation in Robert's house would just leave her feeling down again. This was supposed to be an evening to relax with Henry, and she didn't want to spoil it.

"While we're talking about it, how soon will you have the money?" Mary asked. Having gone there, she might as well go the whole distance. As long as it prevented any more blunders in other areas, she could accept it.

"A few more months, I guess," Henry rubbed his forehead, "So by the time winter is over." He grinned at her, "At least I know you actually got what I was hinting at,"

Mary chuckled, relieved that she'd been able to switch the conversation. If she had revealed Seluria's existence to him...there would have been no end to the troubles that would result.

* * * * *

Thomas brought out the food, and Henry began to eat silently. He wasn't fond in the least of conversations during meals. Eating the food always took priority over conversing, no matter the situation.

Mary at least understood that, even if many people didn't. Henry didn't even bother to count the number of people who insisted on holding meetings over dinner.

Eating didn't take long, and soon Henry was finished. Definitely the best food to be bought in Amestraton. Thinking back, it had surprised him a little when Mary had also told him that she thought the food here was best. He'd thought that, with the kind of food she cooked for Councilman Williamkin and his family, she'd have more expensive tastes. According to Mary, though, the food was frequently too bitter for her liking.

Henry shrugged inwardly. In the end, the food gave them a good reason to keep coming back to this place. Although the fact that this tavern was where they met might be enough reason for Mary, Henry was more practical. Suddenly, Henry was reminded of something.

"Hasn't it been exactly one year since we met?" he asked, startling Mary, who was looking down at her now empty plate, as if she expected more chicken to be teleported there by a sorcerer.

Mary took a drink, looking thoughtful, "If I remember...it's not for another two days." She set down her mug. "Thinking of doing something special?"

Henry caught the amused glint in her eyes. Teasing him, as usual. "Not really. With my job, I don't think I could."

"Well, you'll have to make it up to me later," Mary smiled wickedly, "Don't worry, it won't cost you too much money."

"I'll believe that. Wenches are cheap, or so I hear," Henry retorted instantly. Mary flushed and smacked her head with her palm, getting a chuckle out of him.

* * * * *

Mary walked back into the kitchen. From the look of things, Robert hadn't returned from his dinner with Yamras. This didn't surprise her, as Robert tended to stay late whenever he went to meet someone in a tavern. This always aroused her curiosity. She really wanted to know what Robert did at those taverns. Considering her father was there, perhaps she could ask him why Robert took so long.

Mary snorted at the idea. Her father would just tell her not to "pry into other people's business", as he referred to it. Someone really ought to tell him that what her master did was most certainly her business. Not that he would likely listen, she thought slightly bitterly. As much as she loved her father, there were times when Mary felt he deserved a solid kick to the backside.

Right now though, she had other concerns. First, she had to check up on Seluria. Mary quickly checked the dining room and parlor...no sign of the elf. Mary then went up to the guest room. Stopping at the door, Mary was reminded of who this room was originally for. Shaking off the gloom, she knocked lightly.

There was no answer. Mary sighed, and opened the door gently. Seluria sat there on the bed, looking puzzled. Mary initially wondered why the elf hadn't opened the door or answered when she knocked. She guessed it was yet another "human custom" that Seluria didn't get.

Seluria confirmed it, naturally, "Was there a reason you were tapping on the door?"

Mary sighed, "It was to determine you were there, and if so, you were ready and willing to have someone enter the room."

"I see," Seluria said, infuriating Mary. She was beginning to get sick of hearing those two words, told to her and Michael and everyone else. It was getting a little...Mary wasn't quite certain how to put it. It wasn't like she could ask about it. If word got back to her father, she could be in serious trouble.

"Is there anything you need?" Mary asked, dismissing such thoughts. It was pointless to speculate about this, as she would likely not find out anytime soon. Seluria was just too mysterious for Mary's liking.

"Nope, thanks," Seluria's response was unsurprising, although Mary still wasn't entirely certain what "nope" meant. She guessed it basically meant no.

"Good evening, then." Mary nodded, and exited quickly, glad to have taken care of that detail.

Now, was there any cleaning left to do? Her father had mentioned something about Robert's bedroom, so that would be a place to start. It would be best if she was busy when they returned. It wasn't like any of them could tell the difference between a room she cleaned one or two days ago and a room she had cleaned an hour ago, after all.

* * * * *

Walking down the street, Henry felt suddenly a chill. It reminded him of that rubbish superstition about someone talking about you. It was complete nonsense anyway. Only a fool would believe in something like that. Even some people who Henry had found to be lacking in intellect knew better.

Damn, he'd gone off on another tangent again. He didn't want to blame Mary for it, but the fact was that he hadn't acted this way before he met her. Of course, given how he had been, he supposed it was a price to pay for becoming better in other ways.

That was a foolish notion as well, though, and Henry knew it. Improving in one way didn't mean you had to degrade in another way. Clearly he'd been too relaxed about this, and he had to shape up his behavior. His irritation fueled his energetic state, and he began to increase his pace, eventually reaching a rapid walk, as he headed home for the evening.

* * * * *

An hour passed and Mary finished the room, and they still weren't back yet. Mary had to go around lighting the fireplaces and candles, something that her father normally did. Mary was starting to worry something bad had happened when she heard the faint creak of a door opening. Stowing her rag away, she headed downstairs to find out if they had returned from the Crow's Eye.

Downstairs, she found nothing. The front door was still firmly shut and locked. Mary looked around the front hall, only to see Seluria slipping out of a door nearby. What was she doing wandering around the house? Well, time to find out.

"Is there something you need?" she asked with a yawn. Mary hadn't realized how tired she felt, but she really wanted to go sit down and read quietly. It had been a long day.

"No, I was just wondering where the others had gone," Seluria bit her lip.

Mary was caught off guard, "Did they not tell you where they were going?"

"They mentioned something called a tavern," Seluria explained, "I'm not sure what it is, but I guess they'll be eating food there, since you didn't make some for them."

"You're right," Mary said, mildly impressed by the deduction, "Taverns do serve food and drink." Mary would have bet ten worthings that she knew Seluria was about to say.

And she would have won the bet. "I see," Seluria yawned herself, "How soon until they return?"

Mary honestly didn't know. Robert was never one for being the most precise when it came to keeping an exact schedule. However, it bothered her a bit that he got annoyed at Councilman Richardkin for the same problem. Although a part of her wanted to call him out on it, she knew he wouldn't take it well. Besides, it wasn't her place to do so anyway.

Seluria yawned again, and Mary realized, lost in thought, she had not answered the elf's question. "I don't know," she said, feeling uncomfortable for some reason about not knowing. It hadn't bothered Mary before, so she didn't get why it would now.

"Then I'll go back and sleep," Seluria said, and headed off. Mary nodded and stretched. She wished she could go get some sleep herself, but she didn't dare until Robert returned. Her father would not approve...or rather, would probably say something like "the master would not approve". The thought made her chuckle, as that sounded completely silly and at the same time something he would say.

The door creaked open behind her, and Mary whirled around. Robert entered the room, holding up a pale Sarah, looking dreadful. Michael and her father followed behind. Michael looked worried while her father remained as unflappable as always.

"Ah, Mary," Robert said, seeing her, "Can you help Sarah to the bedroom?" Mary ran forward, and Sarah shifted herself to lean on Mary instead of her husband.

"Thank you," the older woman murmured as she shifted her weight onto Mary's shoulder.

Mary was surprised by the fact that Sarah did not weigh as much as she had thought. This did not bode well for Sarah's health. Sighing, she began to walk alongside the ill woman to the bedroom. After this, all she wanted to do was get some sleep. Her father could chew her out later.

* * * * *

Henry sighed as he sat on his bed, glad he had found no new errors in his accounts. One year since he had met Mary...what was he going to do? Although he wanted to meet her, his work got in the way. As it usually did, which made his earlier mistake all the more frustrating. No, it wasn't the mistake itself. Even if he had been right, it wouldn't have changed anything.

A year ago, he wouldn't have had this conflict. He would have simply gone on with his work, not caring in the least what some silly maid thought of him. Of course, the Henry of then was not the Henry of now. There was no point in worrying about the past anyway. Plenty of troubles lay in both the present and the future, and he had to be ready for them.

Henry considered the law Mary had mentioned. It sounded as if it would end in a net loss for the guild, as they would essentially not get to profit off the stolen goods. And yet Councilman Williamkin had pushed it forward. Henry had gotten the impression from Mary that the councilman had been reluctant to enforce this law.

Henry knew that couldn't possibly be the case. If he honestly didn't want to enforce the law, as head of the traders' guild, he didn't enforce the law. It was as simple as that. Mary had to be mistaken about this matter. She really thought too well of her master, despite the obvious evidence to the contrary. Like the other councilmen, he most likely had his own agenda, without caring about the other effects those actions caused.

Of course, it didn't matter if this shopkeep knew of the law or didn't. Henry had agreed to protect the store, and protect it he would. You didn't back out of contracts due to personal dislikes. That was just about the worst thing you could do if you were a mercenary. Henry had seen exactly what happened to the others who had tried it, and there were none who were still in the same line of work as him. They'd paid the price for that mistake.

No, Henry was professional, in a way few were. He'd do the job, and do it well, same as he always did. It was just another step towards his ultimate goal, and one he would gladly take. Mary would understand perfectly, and agree.

Now, though, he had a more immediate goal. Henry began preparing so he could sleep in preparation for tomorrow night, where'd he try to do the same thing he did every time: Be the ideal mercenary, and do his work.

* * * * *

Mary walked into the dining room, bringing food, to see everyone seated - except her father, of course. Sarah actually looked like she was feeling better, discussing something with Seluria. Michael was listening in, fascinated, while Yamras was eating at his normal rate, or to put it plainly, stuffing his face. Robert meanwhile was slowly eating, paying no heed to anyone else.

"...and then my brother let the deer go in order to help Pylarth," Seluria was saying, "After all, saving him from falling into the river was much more important." Mary listened in interestedly as she served the food to everyone.

"Naturally," Sarah looked at the elf kindly, "I'm certain you'd have done the same thing,"

"I would've, but I wasn't training to be a hunter," Seluria explained, "It wouldn't have been allowed."

"Why not?" Sarah asked, coughing lightly. Mary was curious herself. Obviously Michael was, and suddenly spotted a couple of piece of papers with scrawled writing on the table near him. He had been writing the information down, it seemed. It made sense to Mary, given that this really was the first encounter with an elf in centuries.

If Michael was the first to publish information...suddenly Mary glanced over at Robert, a horrifying realization occurring. That would explain why he was acting so distant; he disapproved of what was going on. He did want Michael to take over the traders' guild, after all. She knew this would not end well, but what could she do?

"...so, it was decided I'd study herbalism," Seluria continued. Mary inwardly hit herself, now she wouldn't likely find out why the elf could not have been a hunter anytime soon.

"Good," Sarah said, nodding.

Mary was glad to see Sarah feeling better. At least one good thing had come out of Seluria's presence. Taking her place by the wall, Mary noticed Seluria still was drinking her tea plain, with no sugarcane powder. Mary wanted to know how she, or anyone else, could stomach the tea without the sweet flavor.

At least the elf still hadn't asked about some of the other food they serve. Or at least, hadn't asked Mary. Judging by the fact that she had eaten one biscuit already, Mary guessed Seluria still did not know. It would be a tough time for her if the elven girl ever found out the truth. Hopefully, by then, Seluria would be adjusted and not complain.

"Are you okay?" Seluria asked, as Sarah broke out into a fit of coughing. Mary hurried to the older woman's side.

* * * * *

Henry shook hands with the shopkeep, who had just introduced himself as James Peterkin. It wasn't often he met someone actually shorter than him, but he couldn't hold that against him. Considering how many people saw him that way, he couldn't hold it against someone else. Besides, Mary would never let him hear the end of it.

"So, you said the thieves have hit here three times?" Henry asked. In his opinion, any shop owner careless enough to get robbed repeatedly deserved it.

"Yes, yes," said James nervously, "I don't know how they possibly get in, but they keep doing it."

Erik snorted from behind Henry, "Try getting a new lock," While Henry agreed with this assessment, he didn't think acting that way was the best idea.

Fortunately, the shopkeep didn't take offense. "Yes, yes," James said, "That would help, wouldn't it?"
Henry was rapidly coming to the conclusion that the shopkeep was a fool. Of course, the world had plenty of fools. The ideal method of dealing with them was simply not to deal with them, but things rarely worked out that way. In this case, Henry would just accept it. After all, just because a man lacked intelligence didn't mean he made up for it with malice. Erik was a solid example of this.

"The shop has only one entrance, other than windows, correct?" Henry remarked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, yes," said James for the third time, leaving Henry wondering how often he would repeat that phrase.

Returning to the issue at hand, Henry was certain that one of three things was occurring. The first was that the thief or thieves had keys to the shop, which Henry doubted highly. The second was that they were skilled at picking locks, a much more likely possibility. The third was a window entry, which was plausible. But he had to confirm something first.

"Can I see the upstairs?" he asked, exchanging a glance with Erik.

"Yes, yes," James replied again. Henry was starting to think that the man was intentionally trying to provoke him. Sighing, he motioned to Erik and the two followed James upstairs.

* * * * *

Mary shook her head at her father's words. So Councilman Richardkin was determined to visit with Robert. She wasn't exactly thrilled, as she knew where this was going.

"Go clean the parlor, before he gets here. Be quick about it," her father predictably told her. "Also, as per Master Williamkin's instructions, I will serve the tea. You are to stay with Seluria and keep her occupied."

So Robert didn't even trust his fellow councilmen with knowledge of the elf. Thinking about it, Mary didn't realize what he actually planned for Seluria. It wasn't like he could keep her holed up in this house indefinitely. Sooner or later, he'd have to do something. Mary couldn't think of any possible actions he could take with the elven girl.

Of course, she thought as she cleaned, realizing the obvious. Robert himself did not know what to do yet. Simply hiding Seluria here was a way to give him time to decide what should be done. Mary decided to ask Michael about it later, as he might be able to confirm it. It was a pity she couldn't talk to Henry about it.

Mary wanted to hit herself. She had sworn to avoid thinking about Henry for today, but she had already failed. She guessed it couldn't be helped. After all, there had to be some truth in the ballads and tales of the women who missed the men they loved. Some things were just natural, and trying to fight them was the way of a fool.

Mary finished cleaning and nodded. The parlor was ready for company, to her father's satisfaction. Now she had to go and brew tea, before the other councilman got here and she had go listen to Seluria say, "I see," several more times. Oh, Mary thought to herself, what a wonderful life she led.

* * * * *

"Excuse me," said a slightly nasal voice.

Henry and Erik turned to see a plump mustached man standing there. His clothing indicated he was quite wealthy, and Henry guessed he was most likely one of the councilmen of Amestraton. However, he had no way of knowing which one, as he'd never met any of them personally.

"When I said excuse me, I meant get out of my way, fools," the man scowled, his tone nasty.

"Alright," Henry said, and he and Erik backed out of the way. With a disdainful snort, the man walked by, down the street.

"What a nasty sort," Erik muttered to Henry, "Now, you were saying about that shop?"

"Since the man's bed was in front of the window, there's no way into the shop except the front door, so that's where the thief was getting in," Henry explained. He did not like having to repeat himself. The rich man had interrupted him though, so he had no choice.

"Got it," Erik noted, "I knew he should have gotten a new lock."

Henry rolled his eyes, "Lock aside, the thief, or thieves, are very good. I'm going to go sharpen my sword for tonight, and I suggest you do so as well."

"Will do, Commander Henry," Erik cracked, grinning. Henry honestly wanted to hit the man; clearly he couldn't see this was serious. In the end, it didn't matter though. Foolishness always caught up to you, and there were few second chances. Too many people learned that lesson with their dying breath, and Henry had seen quite a few.

Erik departed, and Henry headed for his house. Although Erik hadn't been paying attention, Henry had gotten a good look at the lock. Knowing what to look for, he had quickly realized that there was no sign of tampering. This meant either the lock had been picked by someone incredibly skilled, or not picked at all. Either way, Henry knew they were likely not dealing with any ordinary thief. They would earn their pay, that was certain.

* * * * *

Mary sat down in the chair. Seluria sat on the bed, studying her. Mary wasn't certain what to say to the elf. After all, what could keep someone like Seluria interested? Mary had no idea, but she had to come up with something.

"I don't get why the heck you're here," Seluria commented mildly, "I thought your...maid duties would keep you busy."

Mary quickly thought of an excuse, "I was finished with my work for now, so I thought about asking for a story An elven story, or legend."

"I see," said Seluria, infuriating Mary yet again.

Putting her irritation aside, Mary pressed on, "So, can you tell me one?"

"Very well," Seluira cleared her throat, "This is the story of how Greatfather Arth captured Sula the Firespark."

Mary cocked her head to the side. So the elves believed in their own gods, rather than the Three Saints. She made a note to ask if Seluria knew anything about Saint Amestra.

"Long ago, Arth was cold," Seluria began, "So Arth sought Sula to ask for her to come to him and keep him warm. Five times he asked, and five times Sula denied him. So, in his anger, Arth tried to grab Sula, but she was fiery to the touch, and burned Arth's hands."

Mary nodded. Arth seemed foolish to her for trying to touch the untouchable Sula, but then again, she hadn't heard the whole story yet. She waited for Seluria, who had paused, to continue.

"Arth, however, was clever. He took vines from his body and tied them into a rope," Seluria gestured with her hands, demonstrating tying some kind of knot, "Arth used the vine rope, which was harder and stronger than his flesh, to bind Sula."

"At first Sula struggled, but Arth tied the vine rope around his waist as well," Seluria said somberly, "Sula blazed furiously, and circled Arth many times, always pulling. But Arth was as strong as he was clever, and Sula could not break free."

Mary was fascinated by this tale, although she was beginning to wonder where this was going. The idea of Arth just catching Sula like that bothered her for some reason.

"Sula then realized how clever and strong Arth was, and was smitten. She flew in close, but again her fiery body burned him." Seluria paused to take a breath, then continued, "Sula understood, and hid herself inside a rock so she could get close to Arth without burning him."

Mary was disgusted. Falling in love just like that? Maybe it was because she wasn't an elf, but the story was beginning to make her angry.

"But inside the rock, Sula could not keep Arth warm." Seluria's voice rose, "So Arth commanded her to circle him mostly, and only come close at certain times. Arth then took the rock Sula had hid in, and kept it close so that Sula could hide in it when he allowed it. This angered Sula, as she wanted to be with Arth whenever she chose, but she obeyed him despite this."

"To this day, Sula circles Arth endlessly, partly angry with Arth and partly wanting nothing more to be with Arth, but still only able to when he lets her," Seluria finished.

"If you ask me, she should completely angry with Arth," Mary blurted out, then froze. Why couldn't she keep her mouth shut? She was used to not having to hold herself back when Robert, Sarah, or her father weren't around.

"I see," Seluria's predictable response did not surprise Mary in the least. What she said next, however, did, "I always thought the same."

Mary relaxed, smiling at the young elf. At least they agreed on something. "So, you said before your people are the called the Ni'arth." Mary thought out loud, "Is that related to this Greatfather Arth?"

"Yeah, it is," Seluria tilted her head, "Ni'arth means that Arth is our father."

"I see," Mary said, then wanted to slap herself. Seluria was getting her doing it now, which was not good. Suddenly she remembered something. "One of your names...was Ni'teralsan. Does that mean your father was named Teralsan?"

"Yeah," Seluria looked saddened at the mention of the name.

Mary decided not to press the subject, "So, are there any more stories about this Greatfather Arth?"

"Maybe later," Seluria yawned, "I feel like taking a nap now."

Mary nodded and left the room, as Seluria lay down on the bed. Now was a good time to go listen in on the meeting then, since her father would not be able to stop her.

* * * * *

Sheathing his sword, Henry sighed. It was as sharp as it was going to get. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to use it, or this job could end up costing more then it paid. That was the worst risk of this sort of job, the possibility that it might cost you. Still, Henry knew if he was careful, there should not be any problems that arose.

He thought for a moment about the best approach. Since the store had only one entrance, the best plan for two guards was to have one at the front door, and one in the storeroom. That way, if they weren't coming in through the front, they'd still have to deal with one guard, and the other could quickly help if needed.

Erik was the best one to take the front, Henry decided. After all, if they could intimidate the thieves into not coming, that would work just as well as if they were able to capture them. And they weren't getting paid any bonuses for doing so, so nonviolence was the best approach. This left Henry to guard the storeroom, something Henry didn't mind. It beat standing outside in the cold.

Now all that was left to do was to tell Erik the plan. Of course, that could the tricky part, as they couldn't afford to be overheard. However, that actually wasn't too difficult, as there were quite a few places Henry knew of that would serve that purpose. First though, he had to find Erik. He grabbed his coat and hurried out the door.

* * * * *

"So the Crow's Eye is doing quite well?" Robert asked.

"Oh yes," replied Councilman Richardkin, sniffling, "I daresay the other taverns can't possibly compete with it."

Mary couldn't believe what she had heard, and backed away slowly from the door. Councilman Richardkin owned the Crow's Eye. The reason why the Three Brothers was going out of business was because of what he did. For an instant, Mary raged silently in the hall.

She forced herself to cool down. Most likely it was simply business, as she ought to know. The councilman wasn't trying to be malicious. She knew that merchants of all kinds constantly competed, and only some could win. It still upset her, but Mary grudgingly admitted no one was to blame. Whatever was going to happen would happen, Mary told herself, and turned her attention back to the door.

"...can't believe Torthrus is trying to get access to our trade routes again," the other councilman complained to Robert.

"While I wish you would not change the subject, you are right. It was an audacious move," Robert noted, sounding oddly calm, "I did not expect it, so you can understand my reaction."

"Of course," Richardkin said soothingly, "In your position, I would have done the same,"

"Thank you. More tea, Patrick," Robert asked.

"I'll have to go fetch some, Master Williamkin," her father replied, and Mary retreated from the door silently and swiftly, before she was caught.

Heading back to Seluria's room, Mary paused, thinking about what she had just heard. Maybe she ought to tell Thomas about this. She dismissed that idea instantly. It wasn't like she knew anything he could do something about. It didn't make her feel any better though.

Given all the things that were going on, one thing was clear to Mary. She needed Henry to get the money, so she could finally move out of here. Although she was reluctant - everyone would be very unhappy, not just her father - she saw no other choice. She couldn't bear to be here any longer, as it was slowly draining her, for lack of a better phrase. It was getting harder for her to keep being cheerful, and she hated it.

At least when she moved out, there would readily be another maid to replace her. As Henry said, there were plenty of people who would give up everything to have the kind of job she did. Hopefully, it would also make her father understand how bad it was for him to treat her like that. Overall, Mary realized, the benefits outweighed the downsides.

Henry would be glad to hear of her decision, she told herself as she came to the door of Seluria's room. Suddenly an odd thought struck her, as it had only been a few days, yet she already thought of the room as belonging to Seluria. Mary shook her head, a bit surprised that she had forgotten the previous occupant of the room. Then again, she had been disliking being less cheerful, so anything that took her mind off of such thoughts should be welcome.

Hearing a voice speak inside the room, Mary froze, then pressed herself to the door as usual.

Wondering who would pay a visit to Seluria, she listened in.

"...annoyed at me for some reason," Seluria voice was low.

"She's just not used to you," said a familiar and tired voice. Mary was completely caught by surprise; was that Sarah in there?

"I see," Seluria's voice sounded sad, "I like her better then most of the other people I've met though."

"Mary is a good girl," Sarah noted, clearing her throat, "I'm certain that even if she gets annoyed at you, she will still be your friend."

Mary backed away from the door, shaking her head. And she was going to leave this behind? She scorned herself for her earlier thoughts. Seluria was in need of a friend, and she couldn't just leave the elf behind, not when Sarah had faith in her. She'd have to stay as a maid, at least until Seluria was no longer a part of the household.

At least there were a few months before this actually became an issue, Mary gloomily noted. She wandered away, uncertain of what she should do.

* * * * *

Henry took up his position in the storeroom. Erik was already outside, and the shopkeep had just closed up shop and gone off to eat somewhere. Judging by the lack of a kitchen, Henry guessed that this James Peterkin always ate at a tavern. Not exactly the best way to keep your shop safe, leaving it untended like that.

At any rate, it seemed fairly well stocked for someone who had been robbed recently. The shopkeep must have just gotten in new stuff to replace the stolen goods. It made sense to Henry, who knew that was probably a good idea for business to keep stuff stocked. Overall he was coming to the conclusion that Peterkin was most likely a good businessman who had never had this problem.

At any rate, there was nothing for Henry to do but settle in and wait. He wouldn't fall asleep unlike most, as he was used to working at night. He couldn't be choosy, after all. He leaned back patiently, listening to the muffled sound of the wind blowing outside.

* * * * *

Laying under thick blankets on her bed, Mary couldn't fall asleep. It ate at her, knowing the choice she had to make. Why, she bitterly asked herself, couldn't it be as easy as in the ballads? The man and the woman always ending up together, never apart. Time and again the same story, but it seemed that reality didn't work that way.

She was letting this get to her too much, she decided. It did her no good to constantly worry about this decision at this point. Mary admitted she'd have to talk to Henry about everything, including Seluria. Mary had been trying to avoid it, mainly because she suspected she knew what his view would be. However, it was wearing her out keeping this to herself, and she needed someone to talk to.

Since she was probably going to meet up with him tomorrow, she could talk about it then. Thinking about that reminded her of how it had been one year since they met. Mary grunted, and burrowed a little deeper under her blanket. She could think about such things later. Right now, she needed to get some sleep.

* * * * *

Henry raised his head at the sound of creaking wood. He knew the sound of a tread when he heard one. Someone was clearly walking around the shop. In the darkened storeroom, he wouldn't be able to see exactly who it was if they entered, but he could readily tell if they were the thief. So he waited, sitting next to a wall and feigning sleep.

Naturally enough, a figure entered the room. Henry watched as the figure crept to one of the shelves and began going through the contents. Not a very bright thief, that much was obvious. Henry studied the thief closely for a second. Whoever it was, they were either hunched over or very short. A sudden thought struck him, and he realized exactly who the thief was.

Henry rose silently, and without hesitation, pounced. Grabbing the rope he had set aside just for this, he quickly and expertly tied up the thief. Despite his struggles, the thief was no match for Henry's skill. And he hadn't even had to draw his sword.

Erik burst in, apparently having heard the commotion. "What?" he said, raising a lantern and casting light on...the shopkeep, James Peterkin.

"How...how dare you!" the bound man exclaimed indignantly, gazing angrily back and forth between Henry and Erik. "You won't get away with this."

"He was the thief?" Erik blurted out, surprise evident both on his face and in his voice.

"Yes," Henry replied, then turned his attention to the shopkeep, "Now, you have a choice. Since we caught the thief like you wanted us to, you can pay us...oh, say, for three nights worth of work."

"Like I would!" James shouted, trying and failing not to look scared.

"Or, I can have Erik fetch the guards, and you can go to gaol," Henry smirked at the squirming shopkeep, "Your choice."

"I...you...oh fine," James stuttered, "Untie me, and I'll pay you." Henry did so, and followed the short shopkeep upstairs, with Erik trailing behind.

The shopkeep opened a large crate, and began scooping out worthings and putting them into two sacks. Henry was slightly amused to note that, like himself, this shopkeep did not deposit money in the bank. A minute later, the sacks were full.

"Here you go. Now get out!" the shopkeep yelled. Henry and Erik headed downstairs. As they went, Henry heard the shopkeep muttering, "...would have gotten away with it if it weren't for those..."

Henry and Erik exited the store, and Erik immediately headed off, looking lost in thought. Henry hoped he understood what had happened there, in order to avoid it happening again. Unfortunately that wasn't likely, due to Erik being Erik, but some things you just couldn't do anything about.

Thinking about it, it was a beautiful scam, Henry chuckled to himself, heading towards home. The shopkeep knew full well about the law with the traders' guild. In fact, that was the cornerstone of the plan. By stealing his own goods and hiding them, he effectively didn't have to pay for them, and could sell them later for pure profit. Then he hired mercenaries to make it look realistic. If Henry hadn't been the one planned to take the fall, he would have praised the shopkeep for his cleverness.

One thing was certain: he was glad he didn't have to call his bluff. Henry wouldn't have been able to make any money that way, with it being a job not backed by the mercenaries' guild. At least the shopkeep didn't dare risk it either, which was the whole point of making the bluff in the first place. Walking by an abandoned steam wagon station, Henry couldn't help but grin. The shopkeep probably would continue to pull his scheme, and Henry had made some money off of it.

Henry frowned as he thought of the law that made the whole thing happen in the first place. The councilmen were all fools, who didn't understand a thing about how the city really worked. They just cooked up their little games, not knowing or caring what the actual effects were. He had to convince Mary to get out, as nothing good would come of her working for one of them.

That reminded him that he owed Mary for this one. If she hadn't mentioned that law when they last met, he would not have figured out what was going on. He would have to thank her tomorrow, when they met again. On second thought, maybe she should keep working as a maid. He certainly wasn't lacking for work that way. Henry dismissed that idea. It didn't do Mary any good, forcing her to stay in the house of a man like Councilman Williamkin.

At any rate, Henry thought as he arrived at his small house, such concerns were for another day. Now to get some sleep, so he could look for his next job. Hopefully, it would be one that did not involve him getting scammed.

* * * * *

Chapter 5

* * * * *

Making a note in his accounts, Henry frowned, then stood up suddenly. He knew it shouldn't be bothering him, but since last night, the nature of the law had left him feeling on edge. Part of it was him disliking being the one on the victim end of a scam...but he could understand why the shopkeep had done it. No, there was something more to it.

This wasn't the time to complain though. Henry had walked out of it wealthier, along with Erik. And the shopkeep probably could still turn a profit off of his scheme, if he played it right. So the next thing would be to go see about those supply runner jobs, he guessed. Those paid moderately well, but there were plenty of them, and each only took one or two days. Provided nothing went wrong, it would not be long before everything went as planned.

Returning to his desk, Henry resumed checking his books. If he didn't make certain to keep accurate notes, it would create problems later. He shook his head, still slightly embarrassed about his previous error. No more mistakes, he told himself. Henry was just lucky that mistake had been minor. Even so, he knew well how bad minor mistakes were.

But enough thinking about the past and those who hadn't made it. Henry had to stop getting distracted like that. Turning his focus back, he began to tally his money.

* * * * *

Mary led Michael into the parlor, wondering what Robert wanted with his son this time. To her surprise, Seluria was already seated there, wearing a worn red dress that probably had once belonged to Sarah. She couldn't possibly see any reason for Robert to have a reason to address the two of them.

"Please sit," Robert instructed, and Michael did so, sitting near Seluria. Mary took up her usual position by the wall. Robert did not seem to notice, but then again, he tended not to.

"Last night, apparently one shopkeep attempted to con the traders' guild by robbing his own shop," Robert looked grave, "He hired mercenaries to protect the shop, then attempted to frame them. However, the guard he reported it to figured it out and arrested the man."

Michael grimaced, while Seluria looked puzzled. Mary hid her own shock. Was Henry one of the mercenaries involved? That certainly couldn't be true.

Michael spoke up, "But how could he hope to actually benefit by robbing his own shop?"

Robert sighed, "By taking advantage of a law - one I voted against, but it passed anyway. You should know which one, I discussed it with you before."

"The one requiring the traders' guild to reimburse for stolen goods," Michael mused out loud.

"So...this man lied?" Seluria suddenly interjected.

"Correct," Robert replied, "What do you think of this?"

"Well," Seluria spoke seriously, "He did deserve punishment. But as long as he wasn't caught, no harm was done, right?"

Mary wasn't terribly surprised, as she had already figured out that Seluria had her own strange standards of behavior. Both Michael and Robert, however, looked equally taken aback.

Robert responded first, "Just because no one knows it happens doesn't make it right." He scowled, and Seluria shrunk back. "How can you think something like that?"

Seluria was clearly confused, "That's the way it's always been. Maybe not for humans, but..."

Robert's voice showed he was clearly astonished, "I...I don't believe it." He sank back in his chair, lost in thought for a minute. Finally, he spoke, "I apologize. It seems I have misjudged you."

"I see," Seluria demonstrated her knack for annoying Mary. Robert, of course, paid it no heed. Mary considered the possibility of locking her master in the same room as the elven girl for a couple of hours. She'd enjoy seeing what he thought of Seluria after that. Not that she could actually do that. It was just a foolish idea, anyway.

"Anyway, back to my main point," Robert rubbed his head, looking tired, "Michael, you will likely have to deal with the council when you take my position, so be aware that their designs may prove harmful." Michael nodded gravely, knowing better than to speak against his father at this point. Mary suspected that later, in private, he would be all too willing to be contrary to what Robert said.

"Seluria," Robert stumbled slightly over the unfamiliar name, "I know you may not be familiar with our customs, but I wanted to warn you that most of the councilmen do not exactly have the best intentions. I know you complained about being forced to stay here to Yamras, but if they find out exactly what you are..."

"I see," the elf tilted her head. Mary ignored Seluria's personal phrase, more interested in the fact Robert was actually admitting his own mistrust of the other councilmen. While she had suspected he felt that way from how he acted in the past, it was somehow satisfying to have it confirmed. Henry would be interested in this detail, and Mary would not hesitate to tell him.

"Now, Michael, if you will excuse me, I have something private I need to discuss with Seluria," Robert frowned as he shifted in his seat, "Mary, would you please show Michael to his room?"

Mary nodded wordlessly and led Michael out. Whatever Robert planned to say to Seluria, he didn't want anyone to overhear it. It probably was something simple like explaining how he ran the traders' guild. Nothing that she needed to be concerned about. She could always try and ask Seluria about it later, if she wanted.

"Is Seluria always like that?" Michael quietly asked, frowning, "I guessed she didn't know much about us, but thinking that crimes like that are alright?" He shook his head, closing his eyes in what Mary knew was frustration.

"Yes, she has..." Mary tried to find the right phrasing, "...her own values."

"It's not just that," Michael complained, "When I spoke to her yesterday, she didn't even know what the Plague was! It's like she spent the last hundred years frozen in a block of ice."

Mary didn't like thinking about the Plague, so she shifted the conversation, "I doubt that's the case. What, do you think she's really a sorceress who kept herself alive that long?"

"Of course not," Michael missed the slight sarcasm in Mary's voice, "I don't get why she doesn't know these things."

Mary was sorely tempted to continue being sarcastic, but she decided again it. "Well, we don't know anything about what happened to the elves, do we?" she asked, keeping her voice calm.

"I guess not," Michael grumpily admitted as the two arrived at his room. Seemingly lost in thought, he entered his room silently and closed the door. Mary wondered what was going through his mind, but ultimately she didn't know.

However, she didn't think she had time to find out. Her father had asked her to report to him after serving tea in the parlor, and since that was clearly done, he would be waiting. Mary moved on to her next task.

* * * * *

Looking at the job board, Henry made no effort to hide his annoyance. The few jobs that were posted were looking unappealing. Yes, he thought sarcastically, you naturally want to hire a freelance mercenary to go shopping for food. Henry was not about to take a job like that. He'd be a fool to have that as part of his reputation.

Sighing, he looked across the board. Regardless of how he felt, he needed to take one of these jobs. Looking across, one in particular caught his eye. It was the kind of assignment he had done when he was just a boy: locating someone's lost dog. Henry frowned as he caught sight of who was hiring for this one. It was another of the councilmen, Councilman Richardkin.

Well, given the excellent pay rate, Henry supposed he could deal with working for one of the councilmen again. After all, he doubted anyone else would take such a job, and building a better reputation among the wealthy of Amestraton could be useful. Jobs from them did pay more, although a lot of mercenaries refused them on principle. Henry himself had done so in the past. It amounted to another thing that meeting Mary had done for him.

At this point, he had to fill out the job paper first and hand it in. Quickly writing down the information, Henry walked over to the guild clerk, feeling more annoyed that he had to do more paperwork. Unsurprisingly, Henry didn't recognize the clerk, and guessed they had hired someone new. Not that it mattered, as the guild went through a clerk just about every year. He handed the paper to the clerk wordlessly.

Henry waited as the clerk scanned over the paper, in a manner that suggested he was being deliberately slow. Finally, the clerk raised his head and addressed Henry in a dead voice, "I am sorry, but you did not fill this out correctly. Please go and put a correct last name."

Henry looked the man in the eye, "It's filled out correctly."

"Your name is incorrect," The clerk did not flinch, "Please write down a correct name, or go away."

So, that was the trick, Henry thought to himself. It wasn't the first time he'd seen this, although it had been years since the last time he'd had to deal with it. Although Southerners or descendants of Southerners were supposed to be treated the same as everyone else, quite a few people held on to the old hatreds. And with the laws regarding papers and forms, they had all the tools they needed.

Henry had lost count of how many times he had cursed the city council in his life. Whatever that count was, he bitterly thought, he could increase it by one. Five years ago he could have just walked in, taken the job, and left. But now, the paperwork made getting a job a lot harder. It was probably even worse for most mercenaries, who did not have the skills Henry did to fall back on.

Without a word, Henry simply left the clerk standing there and headed out of the guild. It looked like he was going to have to go through unofficial channels again. Either way, he was confident he could find something. He always did.

* * * * *

Mary was standing in the kitchen when she heard the scratching noise. At first she thought it might be a rat. Despite the traps set for them, they tended to have a knack for thriving despite being unwanted. Upon hearing it again, she realized it was coming from the door to the outside. Setting down the pewter dish she had been wiping, she walked over to the door and opened it.

A medium-sized dog with brown fur was pacing around, whimpering slightly. Mary had seen a few dogs, but could not recall ever being this close to one. The dog sniffed at her, then walked up, looking at her piteously. Mary wasn't certain what to do, as this was not a typical situation.

"What's going on?" her father asked from behind her. For once, Mary was actually glad he was here, as she wasn't used to handling dogs. "Oh, a stray dog," he noted, peering around her, "I wonder..."

"Wonder what?" Mary drew back as the dog moved towards her.

"It probably wants attention," her father told her, "But what I was thinking of was something Councilman Richardkin said about a missing dog."

"You think this could be the missing dog?" Mary turned, not certain which surprised her more: that her father was actually taking an interest in something like this, or that he actually listened to what had been said when the councilmen met.

"I do not know," he frowned, "but I will find out. Keep the dog here, but whatever you do, don't feed it. We don't want it becoming too attached to us." With that, he went back through the kitchen, leaving Mary standing there.

What was she supposed to do with the dog? Shivering, Mary walked back inside. The dog followed, tail wagging, leaving dirty paw marks on the tile. Something else for her to clean up, but at least it was something that actually needed cleaning. If it weren't for the dishes taking priority, she'd have started on it right away.

Well, hopefully her father would return soon and...suddenly it hit her. She had forgotten that Robert had gone to the traders' guild to handle some business. It wasn't something he did very often these days with Sarah's condition. However, if Robert wasn't here, that meant her father could only find out by going over to visit Richardkin himself. Vaguely, Mary did remember something about her mother saying her father liked dogs...but she'd never seen it firsthand.

"What's that...beast?" asked an all too familiar voice from the kitchen's entrance. Apparently, as with so many other things, Seluria had no knowledge of dogs. Not that Mary was much better, but at least she knew something.

"It's a dog," Mary kept her patience. She was beginning to see why Michael had gotten so frustrated, although up to this point it really hadn't bothered her much.

"I see," Seluria predictably said, "I've just never seen a dog that looked like that."

Mary didn't respond, partially because there wasn't much to say, and partially because she was busy scratching behind the dog's ears. She couldn't really blame Seluria for being ignorant this time. According to one of the books Mary had read, there were countless breeds of dogs. If the elves didn't have a certain breed, well, nothing could be done.

After a minute, Seluria walked forward and extended her hand. The dog sniffed it, then began licking it happily. Mary backed off and returned to her cleaning, keeping an eye on both the dog and the elf as she worked. Even if it was only for a little while, at least Seluria was happy. Some things, even if Mary had to clean up after them, were worth it.

* * * * *

"No, haven't seen nor heard of any fellows coming around asking about it," the man shook his head sadly, "Wish I could help you there, mate."

Henry nodded his thanks and moved out of the dim alley. Apparently no one was hiring outside of the mercenaries' guild, and he already knew he wasn't about to get a job there until tonight, when the night clerk took his shift. And Henry dislike dealing with the night clerks, as they tended to be rather impatient and cross.

Heading down the street, Henry took a moment to think about something Erik had said. The other mercenary mentioned finding a more regular job. The problem with that was that between the taxes charged and the normally lower wages, it was a lot harder to make a living. It didn't make sense, really, but such was life in Amestraton.

Turning the corner, Henry was startled to see a small gray-haired dog, fur stained with dirt, wandering around, barking at people eagerly. Most of the passerby ignored the little dog, but Henry noted it seemed to match the description from the job notice from earlier. Time to go see if this was the dog the councilman was looking for, then. Even if he hadn't officially taken the job, there was certain to be money in it for him. And if it wasn't really their dog, he didn't stand to lose anything by it.

Henry picked up the small dog, which didn't even attempt to resist. It just snuggled itself against his shoulder, feeling slightly damp even through his thick shirt. Like many fools, this dog was all too trusting. Of course, he could hardly call a little dog a fool. Henry silently laughed to himself. That was just the sort of thing Mary would think of. She was definitely rubbing off on him.

Less than an hour later, Henry walked up the street where Richardkin's house was, still holding the small dog. He'd taken the opportunity to confirm that the dog was in fact female. If he remembered the notice from the guild correctly, that matched up with the description as well. This was turning out almost too easy, but it was best not to question it.

As with most of the councilmen's houses, Richardkin's was far too large for Henry's taste. Surveying, he noted a thin, fairly well-dressed man leaving, a slightly serious expression on his face. No matter - such a man wasn't the reason he was here and wasn't worth his time. Turning his attention back to the house, Henry prepared to head inside.

Henry banged on the door knocker, and after a short minute, an elderly woman poked her head outside the door.

"Yes?" she asked, before spotting the dog he held, "Oh, so you've brought Silver back. Excuse me." She hurried inside for a second, and Henry waited.

A moment later, she returned, "Master Richardkin is out, but Lady Karenkin will see you now."

Henry let himself be led into what was a very wealthy home. A thick rug was on the floor, and various fragile and expensive vases stood about, many holding potted plants. Henry didn't remember Mary telling him about such things, but then again she didn't tend to talk about her work that much. In his arms, the dog squirmed excitedly, distracting Henry from his thoughts.

He followed the maid into the parlor, which was just as lushly decorated as the other parts of the house he'd seen. There sat what Henry guessed to be the fattest woman he had ever seen. She sat on a sofa that, as Henry's expert judgment showed, was straining to hold her up. This, then was Lady Karenkin, and Henry was repulsed by her appearance. If ever there was a good reason to avoid living too luxuriously, it was in front of him.

"So, you have brought my dear Silver back?" she spoke, her voice deep and harsh.

"Yes, Lady," Henry was determined to be polite, despite his rising feeling of disgust. He held up the dog so that she could see it.

"Why..." Lady Karenkin, "How dare you!"

Henry was confused, "What is it?"

"My darling Silver would never get so dirty!" the woman shouted, making the maid cringe, "How dare you bring me an impostor!" Henry didn't think any protest would suffice, so he remained silent while Karenkin continued to rant, "Why do you people keep doing this? I am getting tired of these fools! Get out! Before I call for the guard!"

Henry quickly exited without a word. The maid didn't even move, looking both shocked and frightened. Making his way out of the house, he groaned. A sudden motion made him realize that he'd taken the dog with him. Frowning as the dog - Silver, wasn't it - tried to lick his face, he went off, thinking hard about what to do next.

* * * * *

"So this isn't the dog?" Mary asked her father.

"No," he sounded tense, "Lady Karenkin...confirmed it."

"So what do we do with the dog?" Mary was worried. She didn't want to leave the dog in the street. It seemed quite friendly.

"I'll take to the market, and hand it over to a merchant I know," her father explained, "Then he can be sold."

"You're getting rid of the dog?" Seluria's voice was tinged with sadness.

"We're giving the dog to someone, " Mary's father was firm, "So that it can find a home and an owner."

"I see," Seluria responded. Despite the typical response, Mary could tell that something about this was upsetting the elf. Seluria said nothing else and exited the room, leaving Mary baffled.

"Go and see what Seluria's problem is," her father ordered, "I will take care of the dog." Mary nodded and left the room, heading for Seluria's room. She didn't understand exactly what was happening, but then again, she was used to that feeling by now. It simply held doubly true for Seluria, who was very mysterious. Even Mary, feeling that she had gotten closer to the elven girl than anyone else, still did not know much.

Reaching the door, Mary paused before knocking. She wasn't certain what she could say to the elven girl to make her feel better. Normally, she was used to knowing exactly what to say to make people feel better. Then again, Mary realized, she had known most of these people for years. Seluria, of course, she had met mere days ago, although it felt much longer than that.

Sighing, she knocked gently. "Come in," came Seluria's response, sounding cold. Mary opened it to be met by an angry gaze.

Mary settled for a direct approach, "What was the matter?"

Seluria didn't even blink as she replied, "You...you actually think you...or someone else...can own that dog?" Her eyes were furious.

Mary didn't see the problem. It was only a dog, after all. Of course it would belong to someone, or else it went on the street. Stop it, she told herself. She knew better then to assume that Seluria would know about this, just like most other things. Instead, she should try to find out more information about why Seluria felt this way.

Time to stop planning and start talking, Mary told herself and asked, "Why not? It's only a dog."

"It's a living thing!" Seluria's expression was savage, "You think you can just do whatever the heck you want because it isn't human?"

Mary saw a way she could respond, but hesitated. She could end up making Seluria more angry...but there didn't seem to be another way she could see to make the elf understand. "What about the deer your brother was hunting?" Mary questioned, "What did he think then?"

"You..." Seluria sputtered, face darkening, "Get out!"

Mary left, feeling like a complete fool. Of course that didn't work. Trying to provoke someone like that never did, and she couldn't believe she had just tried it. Why had she thought it would actually work? Maybe Henry...Mary shook her head. The fault was hers and hers alone, and she would have to deal with it. Her father was going to be angry.

"You going to stand there all day?" Michael asked from beside her, startling Mary.

"Uh, no," Mary stammered. She knew better than to get lost in thought, but she had done it again. As she moved back down the hall, she shuddered. Nothing that could be done now. She just had to tell her father, and hope he would not be angry...

* * * * *

Looking down at the small dog sniffing her way around, Henry knew he had to keep Silver in his home for today, at the least.

It was a simple matter, now that he had cleaned Silver. Once night fell, he could go see the night clerk and then pick up the papers for the job. Then he just had to be certain to deliver the dog when Councilman Richardkin was home, and he could collect the payment. He would be paid, the councilman would be happy, and all would be well.

For now, though, he had to tend to Silver's other needs, which meant feeding her. While Henry was no expert on dogs, he knew that dried meat should be good for any dog. Henry always kept some in his cabinet, and went to retrieve it. He broke off a small piece, and put it on the floor near the small dog. Silver sniffed it, and then began to chew at it.

Thankfully, the dog was small and would probably not eat too much. Even so, the reward would more than cover the costs of this. Just so long as the dog didn't leave any...presents...in his house, he could deal with that. The last thing that Henry wanted was his house smelling foul because of the dog. That would cause far more problems than it was worth.

Silver finished eating and began pawing at Henry's feet, wanting attention. The dog was too trusting, but she would forget about him once he brought it back to his master.

* * * * *

Astonished, Mary stared at her father, "You're not angry?"

He sighed, "Mary, you need to stop worrying so much, especially about what I think. I doubt I could have handled Seluria better anyway."

This wasn't typical behavior for her father. Mary was beginning to wonder if Sarah's illness was getting to him too. For now, though, she had other worries. "So...what now?" she asked.

"You probably should go apologize to Seluria," her father remained calm, "I'll go track down Yamras and see if he knows anything helpful."

"Very well," Mary was reluctant. Her father patted her comfortingly, and walked off.

A few minutes later, Mary found herself in front of Seluria's room yet again. It was seeming like she spent less and less time actually cleaning and more time tending to the elven girl. Why was she complaining to herself? Mary had never really liked cleaning anyway. It made no sense for her to prefer it to this. And yet, Mary admitted, she would rather clean than keep dealing with the ever-strange Seluria.

No sense holding off on it any longer. Mary knocked on the door.

"Come in," came the familiar response. One thing Mary could say about Seluria - the elven girl was predictable in what she said to a fault.

Mary opened the door and walked in, hopefully looking calmer than she felt. Seluria sat there, looking quite somber.

Mary opened her mouth, but Seluria spoke first, "I've got to apologize for earlier."

"It wasn't your fault," Mary, surprised, blurted out, "I mean...I shouldn't have aggravated you like I did,"

Seluria studied her, "I see. So we're both in the wrong in this situation."

Mary let out a shaky sigh, "I guess so."

"I...I 'd never thought about what you said," Seluria said, "Whatever my father and the other elves of my clan did or said, I always thought they were right. But..." She shook her head, and Mary was startled to see tears forming in the corners of the elf's eyes, "I was wrong."

"Well," Mary said slowly, knowing the truth of her statement all too well, "Sometimes fathers don't always know what is the best."

"I...understand," Seluria said simply, looking over at Mary. The two sat silently for a minute, gazing at each other. Mary was glad this was actually working out so well. Finally, Seluria spoke again, "I need to do something."

"Do something?" Mary asked, confused.

"I was sent here by the dwarves as punishment," Seluria admitted, glancing away, "I stole some of their food in order to survive, and they told me to repay what I had taken by working for Robert, or Councilman Williamkin as they called him."

Mary was surprised. So this was why Seluria had ended up here. Of course, Robert and Yamras both probably already knew this, but she had possessed no idea. Mary tried to dismiss a twinge of anger towards the two for not telling her. It really wasn't her business to know, but yet they expected her to keep watch over the elven girl. Mary fought back the frustration to focus on what Seluria was saying.

"But I haven't been able to do it." Seluria continued, "I just end up taking more and more, and he's not giving me a opportunity to do anything."

"I'm certain you'll figure out something," Mary tried to comfort her. She understood very well what it felt like to be stuck with nothing to do.

"But you can help me," Seluria insisted, leaning forward, "I want you to help me."

"Help? How?" Mary was completely confused. Short of having Seluria help with work around Robert's house, she couldn't see any way to help the elf.

"I can't do anything unless I learn more," Seluria laid out her plan, "So you can help me with that...by taking me around the city."

"What..." Mary, suddenly scared, tried to come up with an excuse not to, "Sorry, I can't do that. I have to go clean and-"

"Michael told me you go out into the city," Seluria cut her off, "Don't try to deny it."

"Michael wasn't supposed to talk to you," Mary retorted, trying to hide her panic. When had Michael...she suddenly remembered him standing in the hallway right after she had provoked Seluria. He must have talked to the elven girl right after then.

Apparently Seluria realized what Mary was feeling, "Don't worry, I have no intention of revealing what you have been doing." Her voice softened, "Can you please do this for me?"

Mary thought about it. She understood that the elf was probably desperate, to resort to borderline blackmail. She had no doubts that, despite her reassurance, Seluria would not hesitate to tell Robert about what she was doing. It was an odd sensation, feeling both frustrated and sympathetic at the same time.

Still, both feelings left her knowing there was only one thing to do. "Alright," Mary said, "But you have to promise not to tell anyone."

"Okay." Seluria relaxed at Mary's answer, "As I said before, I do not plan to reveal it."

Mary felt a little better, but she was still worried. She'd never tried to sneak someone else out before, but it wasn't like she had a choice in the matter. Until Henry had the money, she couldn't risk having the truth revealed. Besides, as long as no one found out about Seluria being an elf, it would be fine, and everything would work out.

Although Mary told herself that, she still had no idea how she would hide Seluria's identity. Probably a cloak, like the one Seluria had been wearing when she arrived, would work. Mary immediately went off to search for one.

* * * * *

Henry walked into the Three Brothers with a sigh. He had been forced to wait a few hours until Silver fell asleep, because she kept trying to follow him outside. Henry had always thought dogs were not the brightest beasts, and Silver was no different in this regard. Putting thoughts of the dog out of his mind, Henry turned to survey the tavern, and was caught off guard by who he saw.

Yamras sat at a table, drinking deeply from a mug. If he remembered correctly...damn, this was bad. While he had hoped to surprise Mary by going to the tavern in advance, he knew how she would react if she found out the dwarf was here. After all, she did know him, and he, in turn, knew Councilman Williamkin. He had better leave before...

"Henry! Good to see you," came Thomas's familiar voice, killing any chance of subtlety. Yamras, naturally, turned to look, eyes widening with recognition. So much for that plan. Henry only hoped Mary decided that, on seeing he wasn't home, would decide to return home herself.

"Taking a seat this year?" Thomas asked. Resigning himself, Henry walked over to Yamras's table. No point in avoiding a direct confrontation at this point, as it was likely to happen.

"Hello, lad," Yamras raised an eyebrow as Henry approached, "What brings you here?"

"He's one of my regulars," Thomas supplied helpfully, walking up, "Comes in every few days."

"Ah," Yamras commented, "Figures as much. Looks like a nice place, all in all."

Hearing a customer call out, Thomas walked off, luckily before he could ask Yamras about how he met Henry. Henry sat down slowly, not exactly liking this situation. He might as well make the best of it though, and get some information out of it. Nothing else that could be done at this point, as he didn't want to seem overly suspicious.

"So, how's Seluria doing?" Henry asked cautiously, confident even if anyone overheard the question, it would be meaningless to them.

"She's doing fine, staying with me," Yamras replied in a low voice, "And that's all I'll say about it." As far as Henry could tell, the dwarf had no subtlety. It probably did not help that, being the only dwarf in the tavern, let alone the city, he was drawing the gazes of most of the few customers in the tavern.

At any rate, this confirmed that Councilman Williamkin had the elf hidden away in the traders' guild, which made sense. Given that for some reason he refused to hire guards for his home - Henry had heard this from Mary - the guild building was probably the best place. That wasn't saying much though. Sooner or later, someone would loosen their lips, and Seluria would be exposed.

That wasn't Henry's problem though, so he moved on, "Alright. So what are you doing here?"

Yamras frowned, "Someone told me about this tavern, so I thought I'd try it. Doesn't serve dwarven ale, though, so it's not all that good."

"Well, the dwarven ale is expensive, so most taverns can't afford it." Henry noted, crossing his arms and wondering how little Yamras actually knew about the trade deal.

As it turned out, very little. "I don't see why, it's valued at what...thirty worthings to a keg," Yamras glanced down, looking thoughtful, "Not as much as my beard is worth, but still..."

Henry decided to clear up Yamras's misunderstanding, "Going price on a keg is ninety to a hundred worthings."

"Are you serious? By the ancestors..." Yamras exclaimed, drawing more attention, "Bah, I'm going to have myself a nice little talk with Robert about this..."

Henry was amused how easily angered the dwarf was. Before he could say anything else, a city guard burst in the door of the Three Brothers. "Stay where you are!" he shouted into the silence of the suddenly still tavern, "I'm here to protect you."

"Protect us from what now?" Yamras asked crossly, regarding the guard coldly. While Henry himself would not dare speak against a member of the guard, he was in agreement with the dwarf on this. He doubted either he or Yamras needed protecting from anything.

"Orcs have entered the city. Stay calm. The city guard will handle it," the young guard nervously explained, looking like he didn't believe a word of what he was saying.

Henry and Yamras exchanged surprised glances. Orcs should not even be showing up at this time of year. Henry knew that, and the dwarf likely did as well. And yet apparently they were now inside the city itself. Henry hoped Mary was alright, but there wasn't anything he could do now except wait.

* * * * *

Mary and Seluria walked down the street quickly, but not too quickly. Seluria's cloak hid her face, so no one could possibly see the truth. Of course, that assumed there were people to see...and the streets so far were empty. Even with the colder weather and the sun setting, that shouldn't be the case. Normally the streets were full of people coming and going.

"Is the city normally this...deserted?" Seluria glanced around.

"No," Mary frowned, thinking about the possible reasons no one was out on the street. Maybe there was a street performance, as those tended to draw crowds. Still, she ought to hear some sort of noise, and there was no such sound. It was eerie...Mary had never seen Amestraton like this.

Suddenly, running footsteps resounded from behind them. Mary and Seluria turned to see a city guard running down the street towards them, brandishing a spear at the ready. Mary wondered what was happening, but this did not bode well.

Running up to them, the guard grabbed Seluria's shoulders and shook her. "What are you doing out on the street?" he shouted, "Get back to your homes now!"

"Let go of her," Mary coldly interjected, forcing the guard away.

He backed up, staring at both of them "You-" he blurted out, then suddenly collapsed as a blurred shape dropped right behind him.

Seluria backed up, and Mary got a good look at the guard's attacker. It was something she hadn't seen in years, and never face to face. It was the hideous gray-skinned visage of an orc.

* * * * *

"You know, I never understood why orcs keep attacking human towns," Yamras said suddenly, setting down his mug.

"Sugarcane powder," Henry answered simply.

"Sugar what?" Yamras raised an eyebrow.

"Sugarcane powder," Henry realized he'd have to explain, "It gets used in a lot of our food, and in tea. But orcs love the taste, and since they can't grow their own..."

"Bah, I've never liked any of that sweet stuff," Yamras commented, "At least that explains why orcs don't bother setting foot in Pordrin. We've got enough problems with wild wolves and the occasional wyvern as it is."

"Indeed," Henry noted, falling silent. Orcs could supposedly smell sugarcane powder from incredible distances away. While Henry didn't know if this was true, they did seem to be drawn by the stuff. It was as good an explanation as any, and allowed for them to be trapped and killed. Hopefully, the city guard kept this in mind.

* * * * *

The orc growled, raising one long hairy arm and waving a club around. Mary looked around desperately for a way to retreat, and saw Seluria cowering, looking completely terrified. Mary briefly wondered if she had ever seen an orc before, but quickly dismissed those thoughts. The situation was too dire for her to get lost like that.

Again, Mary glanced around, but no one was coming. Seluria wasn't going to be able to help, and the guard lay unconscious on the ground. If the orc was going to be stopped, she'd have to be the one to do it. Mary swallowed, disliking herself for what she was about to do, and disliking that there were no other options.

Darting forward, Mary grabbed the fallen guard's spear and hefted it, pointing it at the orc. It was surprisingly light, considering that it was made of solid metal. The orc snarled at her, continuing to wave its club. Mary looked down, wondering why the beast wasn't intimidated, and mentally groaned. She was holding the weapon reversed, with the spearhead pointing away from the orc.

Well, it wasn't like she knew how to use a spear anyway, so it didn't make a difference. The orc suddenly began to advance, and Mary took a step sideways, away from Seluria. The orc turned, keeping her in its sights. So it was after her, for whatever reason. The orc roared, and launched itself forward in a clumsy charge.

Instinctively, Mary raised the spear over her head, and in one smooth motion brought the blunt end down on the creature's skull. The impact was jarring, but Mary kept hold of the spear. The orc stopped dead, staring blankly at Mary. Then it crumpled to the ground. Dropping the spear with a clatter, Mary walked over to the orc and suppressed a gag at the sight of what had happened to the orc's head.

Turning away and desperately trying not to think about what she had just done, Mary saw Brother Adamkin standing there next to Seluria. While part of her was wondering what he was doing out on the streets, she was too relieved to care.

"Are you alright?" Adamkin asked, looking worriedly at Mary as she approached.

"I...I'm alright," Mary shivered, feeling very cold, "But you...need to get to safety. The orcs..." Her voice trailed off, and Mary realized how drained she felt.

"You'd better get home yourself," Brother Adamkin glanced at Seluria, then looked seriously at Mary, "I know you have more important things to worry about then me." With that, he walked off down the street, his footsteps echoing loudly in the silence.

Mary let out a deep breath, and looked at Seluria. She was still cowering in fear, face pale and sweaty. Mary didn't blame the elven girl. As a child, she'd had nightmares when her father first told her about orcs. Mary started to extend her hand to help Seluria up when she realized the obvious. Seluria's hood had fallen back, revealing her face to all.

Thinking back, Mary couldn't remember exactly when it had happened. The orc and the guard had distracted her. Shaking her head, she replaced the hood and helped Seluria stand. At least only Brother Adamkin had seen, and he had obviously been trying to warn her. At least no one else had seen, but it was best not to take chances.

"Let's go home," Mary said. Seluria, still stricken, did not reply, and just leaned on Mary silently. Mary started back towards home, eager to avoid any more incidents.

* * * * *

Henry shook his head in disgust, "They really should put walls around the town."

Yamras frowned, "Lad, that's a bad idea. A wall like that may look nice, but making Amestraton a fortress like that is just a trap waiting to happen. There's a reason why all dwarven buildings have two doors."

"They do?" Henry asked, surprised. He hadn't seen a second door into the one building he had been in. He'd have to remember to try and notice such things better.

"Of course," Yamras took a swig of his ale, "Never understood why humans think that way."

Henry remained quiet while Yamras grumbled, "No dwarf in their right mind would live in a fortress, just like none would go without growing a beard."

"But...don't dwarven women not have beards?" Henry tried to change the subject, not wanting to get into an argument.

"You're missing the point," Yamras sighed, not catching on. Of course, Henry was not very surprised, as it reinforced his view of the dwarf being less than bright. Mary really wasn't the best at reading people. Then again, given how she had spent most of her life, Henry couldn't bring himself to fault her for it.

"Now do you get it?" Yamras concluded, and Henry realized he hadn't been paying attention to what the dwarf had been saying. No matter, it wasn't important anyway. Henry just nodded and took another sip of his drink. As soon as he finished it, he'd head back to his house. Orcs or no orcs, Henry wasn't about to let anything else mess up his plans.

* * * * *

Mary helped Seluria take a seat. The elven girl had not said a word since the incident with the orc, and still looked pale. Mary didn't know what to say to comfort her. One thing she did know was that she wasn't about to venture outside again this evening. As much as she regretted not being able to meet Henry, it wasn't worth risking her life. Sometimes, doing what a character from a ballad would do was the worst possible thing.

With nothing else to say, Mary got up and began to walk out of the room. "Mary," Seluria spoke faintly, causing her to turn and look at the elven girl, "You...you saved me."

"Uh...yes," Mary replied, not certain what else she could say to that.

"But...I don't understand," Seluria murmured, her voice barely audible, "You told me...you were just a servant. Why would you...fight...for...?"

"To not die?" Mary asked, confused. Did Seluria expect her to just lay down and give up?

"But..." Seluria seemed to struggle inwardly, "Servants...fighting isn't their job."

Mary blinked. "Just because something isn't my job," she said, a slight edge in her voice, "It doesn't mean I don't know how to do it."

"I...I understand," Seluria sounded as if she was forcing the words, "Can you leave me alone for now?"

Mary nodded and left. She herself needed time alone, after what had happened. Stopping for a second, she leaned against the wall, exhausted. By the Three Saints, she wondered, is this what Henry went through every time he had fought orcs? Perhaps he was used to it by now. Either way, all she wanted to do was get some sleep.

* * * * *

Henry walked into his house, greeted by Silver running up and putting her paws on his trousers.. He wasn't in the mood to bother with the dog, so he ignored her and sat on the bed. He was worried about Mary, and the fact the guard had deployed to stop the orcs had done little to reassure him. Looking down at his hands, he realized they were clenched into fists.

Henry realized what he was feeling: fear. It was something he hadn't felt in years, but this was different. Before, he had simple been scared for himself, trying desperately to make a living. He'd never really worried about the few people he knew back then. Looking after his own well-being had been challenging enough.

This was different. Henry did care for Mary, but the possibility that she might end up getting hurt or killed...he shook his head. The worst part was knowing that it was partly due to him that this problem arose. Although Henry knew that he wasn't responsible for what other people chose to do, he still felt ill at what he had done.

Tomorrow he'd check up on Mary. It would be simple enough to do it without anyone seeing him. If she found out he had been sneaking around Councilman Williamkin's house, she would be furious. Henry still didn't understand her desire for secrecy, but he trusted Mary enough to let it be her way. But enough of that, time to go fetch the papers for the job, then sleep.

* * * * *

Mary led Michael into the parlor, wondering what Robert wanted with his son this time. To her surprise, Seluria was already seated there, wearing a worn red dress that probably had once belonged to Sarah. For some reason this seemed somewhat familiar to Mary, but she couldn't quite see how.

"Please sit," Robert instructed, and Michael did so, sitting near Seluria. Mary took up her usual position by the wall. Robert did not seem to notice, but then again, he tended not to.

"Last night, I found out that Michael and Seluria were secretly in love with each other," Robert looked grave, "Therefore, they must get married."

"Huh?" Mary said, trying to gather her thoughts. What was going on here? Her head felt clouded, and she was having trouble concentrating. "But they..."

"Don't worry, you can marry me," a rasping voice said from beside her. Mary turned to see...an orc, his head bleeding. "We can live happily ever after," the orc spoke, extending his hand.

Mary sat up with a gasp, and looked around. She was in her own bedroom, laying halfway under her blankets. So it had just been a dream, but what kind of dream was that? Michael marrying Seluria? The orc in the house? Mary shook her head, and got up to get dressed. There was no explanation for such a dream, and it was best not to think on it.

Remembering what had happened yesterday, Mary shut her eyes. She'd never thought of herself as being strong enough to kill something, orc or otherwise. Then again, it wasn't like her work had left her soft and weak. She smirked as a humorous image came to mind: Mary, slayer of orcs! But enough of that, work had to be done before the sun got too high.

A short while later, Mary entered the kitchen. Flatcakes today, she decided, with some fresh tea. It looked like she would have to draw more water from the well first. Grabbing the bucket, Mary headed out.

* * * * *

Henry watched as Mary walked out of the side door, and let out a breath. So she was safe, which relieved him.

Now to focus on the task at hand. Henry's next stop was to go check to see if Councilman Richardkin was at home. Thinking about it, Henry decided to go and retrieve Silver first. That would prevent him from having to make an unnecessary trip. He didn't like wasting time, and he wanted to get this over with.

Later, standing in front of the house of Councilman Richardkin, he was beginning to have second thoughts about his plan. The more he went over it, the more possible problems he saw in the plan. However, Henry knew how to improvise, which meant this was not a big deal. After all, if you didn't learn to handle things as they came up, you had no chance of success.

Henry walked up to the door and knocked on the door again. Hopefully he wouldn't have to do this again. It was ridiculous how he was having to deal with the city councilmen. It seemed so far that every time he did, resulted in a lot more complicated affair than other jobs. Although, thinking about it, Henry realized his jobs in general were getting more complicated.

Nothing he couldn't handle, he told himself as the door swung open. It was the older woman again, and she frowned as she saw him. "You really shouldn't have come back," she grumbled, shaking her head.

"Is Councilman Richardkin in?" Henry asked, ignoring her complaints.

"Yes, would you like to see him?" she asked, her face indicating she had caught on.

"I would, thank you," Henry dislike the formality, but it was important he play this out. That way, there was less chance of him getting accused of a scam again. He'd prefer not to have to deal with that particular ballad again.

Walking into the parlor, Henry though Councilman Richardkin, who was seated and ruffling through some papers, looked familiar. It took him a minute to figure it out, but then he recognized the man. He was the one who had interrupted his and Erik's conversation a few days ago. Just what he needed, Henry thought sarcastically.

Luckily, the councilman did not seem to remember Henry. "Hello, what can I do for you?" Richardkin looked impatient.

Henry held up Silver, who was wagging her tail excitedly, "I have come to return your dog."

"Oh, that does look like him. Ruby had said she had missed him," the councilman nodded. Henry guessed that Ruby was Lady Karenkin, but that wasn't really important. What was admittedly very disquieting was that they thought Silver was a male dog. Then again, Henry was aware that most of the councilmen had inherited their positions, so they were natural fools, born and raised.

"Do you have the papers?" Richardkin crossed his arms, and Henry set Silver down and produced the papers. Silver ran over and began sniffing at Richardkin curiously. "This appears to be in order...I'll have someone deliver the payment later today." He set the paper down, and eyed Henry dismissively, "You are excused."

Henry walked out, satisfied. Another job complete, and more worthings earned. Every time brought him one step closer to his goals, and he knew the day would soon come when they would be complete. Mary would be pleased.

* * * * *

"By my beard, you think they'll really try that?" Yamras exclaimed, slapping his own head, "I thought you told them it wasn't possible."

"I did," Robert said, sounding irritated to Mary, "They just don't realize the expense involved. If we actually had a nearby quarry for the stone, like I mentioned a few months back..."

"Bah, they're just talking out of their backsides." Yamras chuckled, "One of these days they'll do something really stupid, and then it will all crash down on them."

Mary turned her head so they couldn't see her smirk. Standing idle ready to serve them if they needed it, which she doubted, she was only half listening to the two talk. Her main worry was Seluria, who she hadn't seen today. Mary guessed she was still in her room, which bothered her. She wondered if there was a way she could sneak off and see her.

"The orc attack was a problem though...perhaps a wooden palisade," Robert pondered out loud.

"Palace aid?" Yamras tilted his head with an amused expression, drawing a strained look from Robert, "Just joking, I know what you mean. Although I still say any wall like that is a bad idea."

"I know, I've heard your arguments on this before," Robert grumbled. The two fell silent.

Mary had heard the arguments before too. Although originally she would have agreed with Robert, the orc she had killed worried her. Mary wondered if this was what Henry meant when he said the councilmen had no knowledge of reality. She had to admit there was a difference between discussing someone else's problem and actually facing it yourself.

"Mary," Robert startled her; she'd been lost in thought again, "Go check on our guest please." So Robert had noted Seluria's absence as well. Although it was probably wrong of her, it seemed to Mary that Robert had been paying Seluria little heed ever since she had arrived. It bothered her that the elven girl was being neglected by everyone except her and Michael. And Michael's attention was hardly appropriate, given his constant questioning.

Leaving the parlor, Mary went up to Seluria's room. As she approached, she could hear someone speaking that sounded like Seluria. Confused, Mary paused outside the door, then shook her head and knocked.

"Come in," Seluria said. Mary entered to find that Seluria was the only person sitting there.

"How are you doing?" Mary took a seat in the chair, studying Seluria closely. She didn't seem upset, but Mary wasn't certain she could tell.

"I'm fine," Seluria said simply, then paused before continuing hesitantly, "Do orcs always...act like that around here?"

"Yes," Mary was uncertain of where this conversation was going, "Orcs have always been savage brutes. It's one of the main reasons we have city guards."

"I don't understand," Seluria leaned forward as she spoke, "The orcs of the Eternal Forest were never our enemies, and we left them in peace. But here...why are they different?"

"They...just are," Mary didn't have a better answer. However, she was more interested in something else, "What is the Eternal Forest?"

"Our homeland," Seluria explained, "We've lived there since the time we left the human lands...or so our tales say." Judging from the way she said that, Mary suspected that Seluria was questioning the truth of those stories.

"So where is this forest?" Mary pressed, deciding not bring up the issue of the elven legends.

"Far to the east," Seluria said. Mary thought for a moment. The only forest she could think of that lay in that direction was the Irikok Forest, which lay a few days' travel east of Torthrus. Silently Mary thanked Michael for lending her those old books, as she would not have known about this otherwise.

"We call that the Irikok Forest," Mary frowned, "It's near the town of Torthrus,"

"Torthrus?" Seluria's eyes widened at the mention of the name.

"You know of the place?" Mary responded, surprised.

"I...overheard someone mentioning it in the caravan from Pordrin," Seluria said. Mary didn't miss the hesitation there, indicating there was more to it than that.

Mary didn't force the issue, "Alright." The two sat there silently, with Mary uncertain what to say next.

"Mary," Seluria spoke up suddenly, "What do you think your master is planning to do with me?"

Mary was stricken by how cynical the elven girl sounded. Up until this point she sounded normally cheerful - except for the orc attack - so it seemed completely opposite her normal personality. "I think he is planning to keep you safe," she answered Seluria, knowing all too well how trite she sounded.

Seluria simply nodded, and Mary wished she could help her more. But there was little a maid could do, and Mary hated the situation...and herself...for it.

* * * * *

Henry sat at home grumpily. Having just finished his stretches, he was sweating slightly despite the chill air. There was not much else for him to do today, and he doubted Mary would try to go to the tavern again. She almost never snuck out on consecutive nights, so he doubted he would be able to meet her tonight.

However, he had more immediate worries. The delivery of the reward from Councilman Richardkin had not yet arrived. The councilman would be a fool to try and attempt something like this on a job backed by the mercenaries' guild. This would get you blacklisted by the guild, and being unable to hire through the guild did not help at all. Henry only knew of two cases prior to this where someone had tried to do such a thing. Naturally, they were no longer in business.

So Henry waited. He didn't think Richardkin that big a fool, but he could be mistaken. Suddenly more angry, he stood up and began to pace. Lately his job efforts kept running into problems caused by the Amestraton council. Regardless of type, it always trailed back to one or more of the councilmen and their foolish decisions.

Mostly, it bothered him because there really wasn't anything he could do about it. The councilmen were so secure in their positions that no one could really do anything to stop them. It rankled, but Henry knew full well what would happen if he tried to oppose them. He wasn't about to do something that would guarantee that he would end up in gaol. He was smarter than the fools he'd seen air their grievances in one form or another.

At any rate, he would file a complaint if he did not get paid. But for now, he would wait patiently. Henry knew the value of patience, something far too many people undervalued. Maybe he should check his accounts again...

* * * * *

Mary pulled the bread out of the oven and sighed. Her conversation with Seluria had left her feeling sad, in a way that she hadn't felt before. Hopeless might be a better word, although she wasn't certain that was entirely it either. Sarah's illness, which had seemed to get worse again, was not helping matters. No matter what it was, she was worried on behalf of her friend.

Friend - how had that happened? It had only been days since she met the elven girl. She had been blackmailed, and been forced to cater to someone who didn't understand basic things such as a bed or a maid. And yet, through all of that, Mary found herself unable to blame Seluria. For what little she knew about the person, she still cared for the girl.

Henry, of course, would make fun of her for it. Mary suddenly wished she could get his advice on this. It was hard, not being able to see him, even for a few days. She'd come to rely on knowing he'd support her, no matter what happened. Certainly more than even her father ever really did, although Mary admitted he did try from time to time.

"Are you going to cut the bread?" her father asked from behind her, making her gulp. Why did everyone seem to sneak up on her like that?

"Yes, of course," Mary said quickly, going to fetch a knife.

Her father studied her for a moment, then spoke, "What is wrong?"

Mary sighed again, "I'm worried about Seluria. She's getting depressed, stuck here in this house." While she wasn't fond of admitting her feeling like that to her father, there really was no one else she could talk to.

Her father let out a breath, "I wish there was something I could do, but...you're just a maid and I'm a butler."

Recalling what Seluria said, Mary felt more and more frustrated. There had to be something that could be done, but her father wouldn't bother. She should have known. All he cared about was that they did their jobs. She clenched her fists, not certain if she had ever felt this angry.

"Try to calm down...please," her father, apparently seeing her rage, walked over and embraced her, "I know you want to try and make everyone feel better, but sometimes there's nothing you can do."

Mary swallowed hard, forcing back her anger. She reminded herself that her father meant well, and that he wasn't really to blame for the situation. "Alright," she managed to say finally.

"Then I'll leave you to finish cooking," Mary's father let her go, and left the room quietly. Mary closed her eyes, trying to figure out what to do next. Whatever she decided, she couldn't rely on anyone else to help her. Not even Henry, as much as she wanted to talk to him about it.

But all Mary could do right now was continue cooking the food, and planning for things that might never happen. It was all she had ever done. However, it would not be all that she ever did...she swore it.

* * * * *

A knock on the door interrupted Henry's thoughts. This was unusual, as he didn't normally have visitors other than Mary. But he doubted it could be her, so it was probably the payment; late, but at least it was here. Getting up, he went to open the door.

It was a balding man that Henry didn't recognize, wearing a thick brown robe. If he remember correct, that attire meant this man was from the church...which puzzled Henry further. While he didn't have anything against the church, he didn't particularly care for it either. Besides, the church never had, to his knowledge, hired mercenaries. It didn't matter, as it was not the payment, frustrating Henry further.

"Hello. I am Brother Adamkin," the man said, and Henry led him in. The man was probably here to try to recruit him to the church or get donations. Henry considered donating a few worthings to get the man to leave, but decided against it.

"So...what is this visit for, Brother?" Henry got straight to the point. It might not be the most polite thing to do, but he wasn't particularly interested in being polite.

"Ah, to the point then. Alright," Adamkin cleared his throat, "I have heard you are one of the best mercenaries in all of Amestraton."

"Go on," Henry was unimpressed. That was fairly common knowledge, so it wasn't like it could be used to flatter him.

"Well, there's apparently this elf in town..." Adamkin began, frowning.

"I know about the elf," Henry cut the man off. Some might call him rude, but he knew what he was doing. The more skillful and informed he looked, the more he would get paid.

"Oh...alright. I don't have to bother you with the details then," the man looked down, thinking, "My request is simple. I want you to arrange a meeting with the elf."

"Arrange...a meeting?" Henry asked, not certain what was being asked of him. Definitely the most unusual job request he'd heard in a long time.

"It is a simple matter," the brother explained, "All you have to do is bring her to me - discreetly - so that we may discuss certain things."

For Henry, there was only one clear answer to this request, "No."

"Why not?" Adamkin looked surprised, "You can be assured that no harm will come to the elf, if that is your concern."

"Did you honesty expect me to go up against one of the city council?" Henry responded, crossing his arms, "There isn't any number of worthings you could pay me to make me take that risk." Besides, it wasn't like Adamkin could possibly afford to hire a mercenary on what little money he made, Henry mentally added.

Brother Adamkin paused a moment, thoughtful. After a moment he spoke, "Alright. It appears I will not achieve anything be remaining here. I trust you will not reveal the details to anyone?"

Henry snorted. Of course not. If his reputation was half of what Adamkin had just claimed it was, he would not reveal this. He was no fool of a mercenary. Henry would throw himself in a well and rid the world of such stupidity before he betrayed a confidence.

"Farewell, and may the Three Saints be with you," Adamkin said, and left the house. Henry was glad to see him go.

Some people were complete fools, thinking they could actually go against the council. Although, admittedly, it would be entertaining if somehow Adamkin did get Seluria out of the guild house. It would wake the council up, probably get them to stop sitting around and actually think for once. While that might be good, he wasn't about to put himself on the line to make it happen.

Let the council do what it would, it wouldn't affect him or Mary. He had more immediate concerns, such as his still missing payment. If it didn't come tonight, he'd make his complaint first thing tomorrow morning. Once again, he settled in to wait.

* * * * *

Chapter 6

* * * * *

Henry woke up in his chair, briefly surprised to realize he was not in bed. Apparently he had fallen asleep while waiting for the payment delivery, which was unusual. He didn't remember feeling particularly tired, although he wasn't certain of that.

One thing he did realize was that he'd been a fool to take the councilman at his word. There was no point in dwelling on it now, as there was something to do. Henry ate a dried piece of meat while he thought carefully. He couldn't recall having the mercenaries' guild actually go against one of the councilmen before, so he was beginning to question the wisdom of filing a complaint.

However, while it was possible to take a loss on this last job, Henry considered that to be the worse outcome. If word got out that he had let himself go unpaid, it would make it much harder to collect payments in the future. He had a reputation to uphold, and he certainly wasn't going to undermine it, now or ever.

So he would visit the guild and file the report, after he changed clothes. One way or another, Henry would settle this and get his payment.

* * * * *

Walking into the kitchen, Mary felt...strange. A part of her wanted to go find her father and apologize for last night, but she hadn't really done anything to apologize for. It was confusing her to no end, being stuck in this situation. Every time she thought of a possible course of action, there seemed to be a problem with it that made it impossible.

Perhaps she was over thinking the problem, spending too much time dwelling on it. Mary considered following Henry's preferred approach for such situations. She preferred to plan ahead, but the past few days had shown rapid changes due to Seluria's presence. Not that the elven girl was doing this deliberately and out of malice. If there was one thing Mary was confident of, Seluria was one of the kindest people she had met. She trusted her judgment on that one.

Henry, of course, had told her repeatedly that he handled things as they came. Mary suspected it was a point of personal pride for him, being able to handle things like that. However, she doubted that it would work for her, or most people. Suddenly making decisions as rapid as that would only lead to problems. It was better to plan things out.

However, Mary really didn't have the time to think on this right now. The flatcakes needed to be cooked, the tea needed to be made, and there were probably several other things her father would want her to do afterwards. She could plan it out later. Grabbing the flour jar, she began to pour some into a bowl for the flatcakes.

"What are you doing?" came Seluria's voice from behind her. Mary, for once not surprised by someone coming up behind her unexpectedly, finished pouring the flour before turning to face her.

"I'm making flatcakes," Mary explained. She turned back to the bowl before she realized what Seluria would see here.

"I s...I understand," Seluria noted as she walked up, "So you cook the flatcakes...by mixing this powder?"

"Um," Mary stammered, trying to think of what to say to the girl to not worry her.

"It's okay," Seluria looked at Mary steadily, "I enjoyed the flatcakes before, so I can't object to how they're made."

"Alright," Mary, still flustered, let out a breath.

"Besides," the elven girl continued, with a smirk on her face, "I think I can trust you not to poison the food."

Mary laughed involuntarily at that one. It felt good to exchange her worries for merriment, and somehow Seluria had a knack for that. It was a bit of a shame that the girl was so quiet most of the time. Mary thought Seluria would benefit from spending some time socializing. Of course, the final decision on whether or not that would happen was entirely in Robert's hands.

The sudden frustration at Robert, bringing Mary's good cheer to a halt, surprised her again. She'd been getting angry much too often lately, for no logical reason. Definitely something she'd want to talk to Henry about when she saw him again. With the blessing of the Three Saints, that hopefully would be tonight.

"Is something wrong?" Seluria asked. Mary gulped as she realized she'd just been standing there, lost in thought yet again.

"I...I'm just worried about my maid responsibilites," Mary settled for a half-lie.

"I understand," Seluria nodded, then looked at the bowl, "Maybe you can teach me to make flatcakes?"

"Alright," Mary answered, glad to be on a subject that she could more freely discuss, "You see, this stuff in the bowl is called flour..."

* * * * *

Henry resisted the urge to groan as he walked up to the desk in the mercenaries' guild. The same clerk who had refused his job form previously was on duty yet again. However, this time there was an approach he could take to ensure the clerk would work with him. Henry had put too much time and effort into the job to just let a fool like the clerk stop him.

"May I help you?" the clerk sounded just as dry as he had two days ago. Henry wondered if he treated everyone that way.

"I'm here to file a complaint," Henry answered, not really wanting to have to deal with someone like this.

"I am sorry," the clerk said, looking directly at Henry, "We do not currently have any of those papers available."

"Very well," Henry said, heading for the door leading to the back rooms of the guild.

"Excuse me, but we do not allow people..." the clerk's voice trailed off as he saw the piece of paper Henry was wordlessly holding up. It amused him to no end to watch the clerk's face turn pale as he read the document certifying Henry had access to the back rooms. Very few mercenaries had worked long enough to have those documents, and he had expected the clerk to be caught off guard.

Henry walked into the back, knowing exactly where to go. It had been months since he had been to discuss something with the guild leader. It wasn't something he preferred to do often. Henry would rather solve his own problems. Unfortunately, this was one issue he needed help with, and so he was forced to resort to this.

Walking into the guild master's room, Henry noted that nothing had changed since his last visit. The same simple and austere desk and chairs sat around the room, and in one of the chairs sat the man Henry had come to see.

"Hello, Henry," John Anthonikin, head of the mercenaries' guild, said, "I take it this is about business?"

"As always," Henry responded readily, "I have a complaint."

"How surprising," the guild master commented dryly, "Have a seat." He studied Henry a minute, then leaned back, chair creaking under his ample weight. "Judging from you being here, I take the clerk was acting less than courteous."

"Correct," Henry knew there was no need to fill the man in, as he probably already understood the full situation.

"Perhaps one of these days I'll find someone tolerant enough to hold the job," Anthonikin sighed, "I'll deal with him later. Now, who's the client who doesn't want to pay?"

"Councilman Richardkin," Henry said. The guild master was silent for a moment, then scratched at the stubble on his chin.

"Been nearly ten years since a councilman actually went against the guild," Anthonikin mused out loud, "But we'll handle it. Wait right here while I go get the papers...and chew out a certain clerk while I'm at it."

Henry just nodded as Anthonikin lurched to his feet and walked stiffly out of the room. Inwardly, he was in a good mood. This was all working out in his favor. There wasn't anything that could possibly interfere with his plans...

* * * * *

"Are you certain you don't want to eat in the dining room?" Mary asked, still a bit put off by Seluria's declaration.

"Of course I'm sure," the girl shook her head, "I don't like the dining room anyway. It's far too...fancy."

"It would be rude if you did not eat in there," Mary's father looked over gravely, "You wouldn't want to offend Master Williamkin."

"Okay," Seluria sounded reluctant, "I guess I'd better join them then." She exited the kitchen without another word.

Mary shot a glare at her father, which he either ignored or did not notice. His insistence on the proper forms of behavior never failed to irritate her. Taking a bite of her food, she put that issue to the side. There was nothing she could do or say that could get her father to change his mind about this. She would talk to Seluria later and try to comfort her.

Instead, there were far more important matters on her mind, such as finding a way to sneak out again tonight. Mary knew it was a little obsessive of her, but she really was desperate to see Henry again. It was odd though, as she hadn't really been thinking as much about him lately. Seluria had taken her mind off of him, making her feel slightly guilty. Mary decided that she'd have to think of a way to make it up to Henry later.

Finishing her flatcakes, she left the kitchen. Time to go gather dishes for washing again.

* * * * *

"Well, that's dealt with," Anthonikin walked back into the room, "So here's the form."

"Thanks," Henry said as he took the paper. He began to fill out the form as the guild master sat back down.

A minute later, the guild master spoke, "So, I heard an interesting rumor..."

"Go on," Henry set down the quill. It was probably something to do with Seluria. It figured that Councilman Williamkin could not keep her a secret for long.

"You have been seeing a woman, or so I hear," the guild master stated.

Henry wasn't certain whether to be relieved or annoyed that this was about Mary instead. "Correct," he said, picking up the quill and returning to the form.

"And you didn't tell me," Anthonikin chuckled, then became serious, "I get dozens of mercenaries every year, coming in here and asking me about this very thing. I tell them all the same answer I'll tell you now: being a mercenary - and being a good husband - are two separate things. You can't do both."

Henry continued to just write on the form. "Let me guess," Anthonikin let out a breath, "You're not going to listen to my advice, are you?"

"No," Henry said, not looking up.

The guild master shook his head. "My boy, choosing a path in life is what all mercenaries should strive for. Sooner or later, you'll see this too."

Henry, while he knew the older man meant well, found the tone he took...insulting. "Here's the form," he said, standing up suddenly, "Make certain that I get the payment."

"Alright," Anthonikin's frown deepened, as he looked steadily at Henry. He nodded and left the room. The last thing he needed was other people trying to tell him how to handle his life. That reminded him that he would likely see Mary tonight. She certainly would make better company than any guild master or councilman.

Walking out of the guild, Henry looked up at the sky. It was clear, which ran counter to the dwarves' prediction of an early snow. He guessed he should have known better then to put faith in what they said, especially when he didn't know how they reached that conclusion. But Henry had spent enough time staring at the sky. He wasn't certain what he could do, so he might as well go home.

* * * * *

Mary put away the last of the dishes, amused by the turn of events. The fact that Seluria was helping her with her work was funny, in an odd sort of way. Mary had protested against it, but not too strongly. She could use the help.

"What's next?" Seluria asked eagerly. Mary, trying to think of what she had to do next, idly wondered if the girl would make a better maid than her.

"Next, I'm going to go dust. You should probably return to your room," Mary hated having to say it, but it would cause too much trouble for her otherwise.

"Okay," Seluria lowered her head, failing to hide her disappointment. As the elven girl left, Mary tried to shrug off the guilt. Was this how her father felt when he told her what to do? If so, Mary swore to herself, she definitely owed him an apology at the minimum. Perhaps she should arrange for Henry to buy a gift for him, too...no, that wouldn't work.

Retrieving the dusting brush from the closet, Mary suddenly heard someone shouting. While she probably ought to be working, she couldn't resist to urge to hear what was being said. She quickly headed for the parlor, where the shouts seemed to be coming from, and listened.

"By the ancestors, why did you think that was a good idea?" Yamras was obviously angry.

"I still want to know where you heard that," Robert's cold reply made Mary shiver, "You really should not believe rumors."

"Rumors. Bah!" Mary had never known the dwarf to be this angry. "I've seen the papers at the guild. I know full well these are no rumors, or I'm an orc with a beard!"

"Calm down," Robert took on a soothing tone. Mary was willing to bet it wouldn't work, given how furious the dwarf sounded.

"Calm?" Yamras's voice got even louder, making the house itself vibrate slightly, "How long have you been tricking me? We've been friends for years, and now I find out about this?" The dwarf sputtered incoherently as Mary's father walked up beside her. He gave her a calculating look; Mary knew that it usually meant he was worried. Mary felt the same way. She had no idea what was happening. Without a word her father opened the door and walked in.

"I'm going to have to ask you to stop," he said, apparently addressing Yamras. Mary peeked around the edge of the door, looking at the scene.

"I'll stop," Yamras said, walking to the door, "I'm leaving. Come this spring, the elders will know exactly what's been going on." With that, he exited the room, paying Mary no heed. Robert sighed and left also, heading up to his room.

Mary stared at her father, bewildered. She was about to ask what was going on, but he shot her a look that made her rethink that. "See to Michael and our guest," he ordered, and then followed after Robert.

Mary shook her head. About the only way this situation could get any worse was if Sarah died...but thankfully that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Putting those thoughts out of her mind, she went off to talk to Michael. Perhaps he knew what was going on.

* * * * *

Henry didn't expect the affair of his payment to be resolved today, to be honest with himself. For now, he'd just wait and see what happened. It irritated him that he couldn't take another job until this was settled. However, the most important rule that every mercenary learned on their first job was that the job isn't over until you collect the pay.

Granted, this did set his plans back by a little, but not much. Five or six days made little difference when his goal had taken him over a year to achieve. It would be worth it though, to finally get what he wanted for himself and Mary. Henry, feeling a sudden surge of impatience, reminded himself that he would just have to wait.

Instead, he would do some stretching for now, then perhaps a nap. Afterwards, he could go visit a few shops, being still undecided on what, if anything, he should buy Mary. That was the one big problem with not being able to do a job, Henry thought to himself. There was too much wasted time involved. He'd prefer to be working, but such were the way things happened.

Henry flexed and began to count his stretches as he did them. A good workout was just what he needed...

* * * * *

"Are you serious?" Mary was equally astonished and angry, "They actually made him do that?"

"The same applies to any goods made in other towns and cities," Michael looked slightly disgusted, but remained calm.

Mary was furious. It was no wonder Yamras had been so upset. Henry was proving right yet again. He had mentioned that he found the councilmen untrustworthy, and Mary could not hold any blame against him. Nor did she want to. At the moment, the people she wanted to blame were the seven men who had forced these ridiculous practices on the traders' guild.

Of course, judging from Michael's reaction, he wasn't fond of the idea either. This prompted Mary to ask, "Did you argue with Robert about it?"

He nodded, "I thought it was a dangerous idea. But he insisted that he had to abide by the council's decision."

Mary doubted that, as that didn't sound like something Robert would do. She wasn't about to press the issue, as Michael was looking more and more visibly upset. Instead, she would go and see Seluria instead, as she had been told to do. Nodding to Michael, she made her exit and headed for the girl's room.

Thinking hard as she walked down the hall, Mary felt...lost. Things were happening far too rapidly than what she was used to. It bothered her, to a degree. Mary needed some time to think, but she didn't think she was going to get any. Perhaps seeing Henry tonight would help. She could worry about that later. For now, she had to focus at the situation at hand.

"Come in," came the familiar reply, before Mary could even knock on the door. Opening the door, she saw Seluria smirking. "I heard you coming."

Mary guessed that those pointed ears had to be somewhat useful. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to reality. She got distracted too easily, and needed to focus. "Did you also hear the shouting?"

"Yes. I know it was Williamkin and Yamras, although I couldn't make out what was being said," Seluria crossed her arms.

"They were arguing over a trade deal," Mary explained. Seluria's face paled slightly. Something about this was upsetting the elf, and Mary didn't quite understand. "It doesn't have anything to do with you," she reassured the elven girl.

"What good is trading anyway?" The venom in Seluria's voice caught Mary completely off guard. "It doesn't solve anything," the girl continued, "If you have to rely on someone else like that..."

"You do know that Robert has made his living by trading." Mary kept her tone gentle. Obviously, this whole thing was a sore point for Seluria, for some unknown reason.

"I understand...just...no," Seluria frowned, lost in though, "It's not a big deal."

Mary suspected the girl wanted to be left alone, which was fair enough. With another nod, she exited the room, not certain why this had set Seluria off. Hopefully someday she could find out, but not right now. Instead, she had other things to worry about. To begin with, she had never actually started dusting the house.

* * * * *

Henry finished his stretches with a yawn. Perhaps he needed to do more of them, as they were becoming too easy. Tomorrow, then, and that way he could continue to stay fit.

For the moment, there wasn't anything else he could do. He'd already checked his accounts, and it wasn't like Mary was going to show up and keep him company. Later this evening, though, he looked forward to meeting her. She would certainly be amused to find out about his most recent jobs. He smirked to himself, then froze as there was a knock on the door.

Getting up, he walked over to the door and opened it. A messenger, only a child, held out a piece of paper for him silently. Henry couldn't tell if it was a boy or girl, and didn't bother trying to figure it out. Being poor, they all dressed and acted the same, or at least until the girls got old enough to get into certain other kinds of work.

Pulling out a handful of worthings, he handed them to the child, who skipped off. Henry made it a point to pay messengers well. He'd been one himself once, and he knew it could be a rough job. Many people had no respect for messengers, and in some cases took this to extremes.

Opening the paper, Henry read it silently, and smiled slightly. So the payment for the Richardkin job would be delivered tomorrow morning, with extra compensation for being late. Ultimately this worked in his favor, and made the wait well worth it. This meant that tomorrow he could start looking for more work.

For now, he decided as he closed his door, it would be prudent to nap. He felt relaxed after learning the outcome of his complaint, and he had earned some rest. This way, when Mary came, he could be prepared for a nice evening out. Life was going well.

* * * * *

The dining room at dinner had never felt so chilly. Robert, Michael, and Seluria were all seated with grim faces. Sarah, who was feeling well enough to come down to eat, simply sat stoically. For Mary, this disturbed her more than anything else that had happened today.

"Mary, bring us the tea," Robert said coldly. Mary gulped and realized she'd forgotten it. She really should stop being so absentminded. Although given what was going on...Mary dismissed that as just making excuses.

"Coming, Master Williamkin," Mary exited the room and made her way to the kitchen. The tea had been ready, she had just forgotten to bring it with the food.

Wanting to hit herself, she walked into the kitchen and was met by a burst of cold air. The door had blown open, something that hadn't happened since last winter. Mary had thought it had been fixed, but apparently it hadn't worked. For now, she'd just close the door, and tell her father about it later when she saw him again.

Grabbing the tea, she put it on a tray and carried it to the dining room, after setting aside two cups for her and her father. Not wanting to spend any more time in there then necessary, Mary quickly poured everyone's tea, and then left. Staying there would have put her in even more of a gloomy mood, and Mary already was unhappy about events. Hopefully, things would get better soon.

It was a shame she wouldn't get to see Henry tonight, but such was the way of it. Whatever happened, happened, and she'd just have to accept it. Heading back into the kitchen, she saw her father there, already drinking his tea. Mary nodded and picked up her own tea, and began drinking it. At least this time she had made certain to add the sugarcane powder in advance.

Taking a deep gulp of tea, Mary closed her eyes. For some reason, she felt exhausted. This day had taken more out of her than she had apparently realized. Suddenly, she heard her father coughing. She set down her tea and turned to face him, only to stagger and lean against the counter. Something was wrong, but she wasn't certain what. How could she be this tired?

Distantly, Mary heard her father coughing more. She opened her eyes to see his blurred shape staggering. Slumping to her knees, Mary thought she really should stand up and check on her father. She'd see what was wrong...right after she rested for a bit. Her eyes drifted shut again.

* * * * *

Henry walked into the Three Brothers. Having decided that Mary wasn't coming, he simply went directly to the tavern. To his surprise, Yamras was there again. Apparently Yamras had decided he liked this place, despite the lack of dwarven ale.

"Hello, Yamras," Henry walked up to the dwarf. At least this time he didn't have to worry about Mary.

"Hello, lad," Yamras said, "You were right, you know." He cleared his throat gruffly, "About the trade deal."

Henry kept silent and just took a seat next to the dwarf. Thomas was busy with other customers, so Henry didn't expect service. Not that he cared, as his attention was more focused on the dwarf. It was clear that the dwarf was unhappy for some reason. While it wasn't really his business, this could possibly affect Mary.

"So what did you do?" Henry asked nonchalantly.

"Told them the trade deal was off," Yamras snorted. Henry was only mildly surprised. He had guessed that Yamras's reaction would have been at least somewhat extreme.

"Not the best idea," Henry commented.

"Lad, he was dishonest," Yamras set down his mug and looked straight at Henry, "If he actually cared, he would have been straight. If he was going to decide to do something like that-"

"Who said he did decide it?" Thomas, walking up, cut Yamras off.

"What are you saying?" Yamras turned to Thomas and narrowed his eyes.

"The prices only started to rise a couple of years ago, after he became one of the council," Thomas explained, "My guess is that the council kind of forced him to set the prices."

"By my beard...you may be right." Yamras admitted. "But why didn't you mention this before?"

"The guard interrupted us," Henry said. While he didn't exactly agree with Thomas's view, he decided it was best to play along and calm the dwarf down.

"Bah, I forgot. The orc attack," Yamras grumbled, "I've been stupid. Guess I'd better head back and apologize...right after I finish my drink."

"Take your time," Thomas chuckled, "And Henry, what's with Mary? I haven't seen her recently."

It took all of Henry's self control not to visibly react. Mary would be furious if she found out that he gave away their relationship. His best option was to keep cool. If need be, he could always claim it was a different Mary. "She's busy, I guess," he said slowly, sensing Yamras's gaze on him.

"Alright," Thomas nodded, "So what will you be having this evening?"

* * * * *

Mary groggily opened her eyes. She didn't remember falling asleep, the last thing was...suddenly she recalled what happened, and sat up. Had her father been choking?

"You're awake," Seluria said, and Mary looked over. The girl looked like she had been crying, which troubled her. Taking a minute to look around, Mary realized she was back in her room.

"What's wrong?" Mary was suddenly very worried.

"It's my fault...I'm sorry," Seluria began to cry again.

Mary reached over and hugged her, not knowing what else to do. Maybe after the elven girl calmed down, she'd be willing to tell what happened.

"Ah, you're awake," Yamras said from the door. Mary looked over at the dwarf, feeling grateful that at least he was back. His face was grim though, and her mood turned dark almost instantly. Whatever had happened was very bad, she concluded.

"What happened?" Mary asked, releasing Seluria, who slumped down.

"Someone put some kind of sleeping poison or something in the sugarcane powder," Yamras explained, flexing his hands, "If I get my hands on whoever did it..."

Mary relaxed somewhat. "So no one was harmed. But why was it done?"

"Lass, whoever did this wasn't holding back. Robert got himself stabbed in the shoulder trying to stop them," Yamras winced, "If I hadn't of left, I could of stopped this...bah." He looked down, shame evident on his face. "As for why they did it," he continued, "I guess to get their hands on Seluria," Yamras said. He glanced at Seluria, then turned back.

Mary was stricken. Had she done this? If this was all because of her taking Seluria out, it was as much her fault as it was anyone else's. Putting issues of responsibility aside, Mart had one more question. "My father...he was coughing. Was that because of this poison?"

Yamras hesitated before answering, "Your father...burn my beard, what was the word? He was...ah, allergic...to the poison."

"Can I see him?" Mary asked, feeling suddenly cold.

"Lass..." Yamras slowly said, looking her in the eye, "He's dead."

* * * * *

Having just finished putting on fresh clothes, Henry turned suddenly at the knock on the door. He guessed it was his payment. He walked up to the door and opened it, revealing to his surprise Erik standing there.

"Hello, Henry," the big man said, "Got a delivery for you of some payment or something."

"From Councilman Richardkin?" Henry asked cautiously. He wasn't about to take any more chances with this matter.

"Yes, that's it," Erik handed over a bag. Henry took a peek inside, observing the bag was full of worthings. The heft of the bag felt about right too; looked like the payment was honest.

"Thanks," Henry said, "Just make sure the councilman pays you."

"What, is this like a late payment?" Erik laughed quietly.

"By two days," Henry closed the bag.

"Oh," Erik looked flustered. Henry was amused, but didn't let it show. "Well, later," Erik waved, and departed.

Henry closed the door and headed back in. As usual, he had to account for the payment. At least the job was done, and he could relax now. He'd probably leave off getting another job until tomorrow. Henry sat down at his desk, and began to count the coins.

* * * * *

Sitting with her arms crossed, Mary couldn't belief what had happened. Her father...dead? Despite the fire in the parlor's fireplace, she felt incredibly cold. This wasn't what she had wanted. She had always pictured her revealing Henry to her father, and him grudgingly giving her his blessing. That ideal situation was now as dead as her father.

Yamras and Seluria both sat in the parlor, but Mary paid them little heed. There wasn't much they could say that could make her feel better. The only strange thing, something that irked her slightly, was that she couldn't bring herself to cry. Despite feeling like she should be sobbing, inexplicably she just...couldn't.

The door opened, and Mary looked up along with Yamras and Seluria as Michael entered the room. "The doctor's taking my father and mother to his house," Michael looked tired, "I rented a carriage."

"Thought only your father was injured," Yamras commented, frowning.

"The doctor thought it was best that they be together," Michael bit his lip, "I didn't disagree."

"But you didn't agree either," Yamras stated.

"I...I don't know what to do next," Michael admitted, "I know the guild will run itself fairly well, but I have no idea about how he managed the household. And since Pa..." His voice trailed off. Clearly Michael didn't want to bring up her father's death.

"It's alright," Mary's words sounded hollow, even to her. She was probably even more lost than Michael. She had no idea what to do or say next, or even if anything she did or said would make a difference.

"Well, I'll help you, lad," Yamras supplied, "But first we probably want to hire someone to guard the place."

"My father never allowed guards," Michael shook his head, "The last one he hired tried to rob the house." He looked over at Seluria, and sighed, "Also, I don't think we could keep her a secret from whoever we chose."

"Ah, then we'll just have to hire someone who already knows," Yamras said craftily.

Seluria turned her head interestedly as Michael gaped. Mary herself, despite her grief, was curious about who the dwarf was talking about.

"But...who?" Michael finally blurted out.

"Why don't you ask her?" Yamras grinned. Mary suddenly realized he was looking directly at her. Both Michael and Seluria turned, staring at Mary. Mary wished she could be somewhere else, anywhere but here. He knew...

"But...I didn't tell him..." she whispered, her words echoing loudly in the silent room.

"Tell who...what?" Michael's eyes narrowed, "Mary, did you..."

"Relax, lass," Yamras reassured her, "He already knew. Who do you think discovered Seluria to begin with?"

Mary gasped, realizing that Henry had known all along about Seluria. However, she was not the only one who gasped, as Seluria herself also looked surprised. "He...Henry...knew?" she murmured, trying to make sense of this situation.

"Alright, now I'm really confused," Michael stated, looking cross, "Someone mind telling me what's been happening? I knew Mary was sneaking out of the house, but..."

"In time," Yamras nodded, "For now, Mary's going to tell me where the lad lives, and I'll bring him here. Then we can reveal all the secrets under our beards...bah, you get the idea."

"Ah...alright," Mary said slowly. She wasn't certain this was the right thing, but she couldn't think of anything else to do. "He lives at..."

* * * * *

Henry closed his account book, pleased with the way things were going. As he had expected, the guild had raised the payment slightly due to it being late. That almost made the wait worth it. However, he definitely wasn't going to take another juvenile task like recovering a lost dog again. Too much trouble for what it paid. He'd stick to jobs that were more in line with his skill.

A knock on the door surprised him. Another visitor this soon was not what he expected. While he didn't particularly want to take a new job, he'd be a fool to turn down an opportunity. He walked over to the door and opened it.

"Hello, lad," Yamras said pleasantly, leaving Henry blinking. How had the dwarf found out where he lived? He instantly suspected Mary was involved somehow.

"Come in," Henry moved out of the way. Yamras walked in, looking around the one room of the house.

"Small place," Yamras commented. Henry remained silent, waiting for the dwarf to get to the point. "Ah, anyway," Yamras finally continued, "I think I have a job for you."

"Tell me the details," Henry asked, sitting on his bed.

"Well, I'm not the one hiring you, I'm just telling you," Yamras explained, "If you want to hear the details, you need to come with me."

"And if I refuse?" Henry's voice lowered.

"I get to tell Mary about it," Yamras grinned. So he did know, which meant the secret was out. Henry hadn't counted on it being secret forever, so he wasn't surprised. Although this probably meant working for a councilman again, he didn't mind.

"I'll come," Henry said, "But one thing you have to answer first."

"Yes, lad?" the dwarf looked puzzled.

"I thought you didn't like blackmail," Henry stated, keeping a straight face.

"You-" Yamras sputtered, then slapped his face in frustration, "By the ancestors...just come on, will you?" The dwarf headed out the door, and Henry followed.

* * * * *

Mary had just finished cleaning the dining room. Although the bodies of her father and the would-be kidnapper had been removed, there were still bloodstains everywhere. The rug had been a total loss. Mary had, with some effort, removed it and tossed it into the rubbish bin. They could always buy a new rug later.

It comforted her slightly to be able to clean. For all the times she disliked doing it, at the moment it was a relief to do something normal. It helped take her mind off what had happened to her father...what had happened to Robert, and what Seluria had been forced to do. Mary didn't want to think about it, or what would happen when they found out what she had done.

Returning to the parlor, Mary found Michael and Seluria in conversation. "...doesn't matter what you are," Michael was saying, "Right now I have to keep you safe." Seluria frowned, but didn't say anything. Mary took a seat with a sigh, not particularly interested in conversation.

"Brought him," Yamras said, entering the room. Henry was following right behind. Mary looked up at him; he looked oddly calm. He walked over and took a seat next to her, and Yamras sat across from them.

"Alright, so explain," Henry crossed his arms, looking around the room. Mary felt a twinge when his gaze fell on her. She didn't want to admit what she'd done, especially not to him. It was a different sensation than what she had felt with her father. She dreaded telling him, and knew she would have to.

"Michael, lad," Yamras glanced at Michael expectantly.

"Um...I..." he stammered, losing focus. Mary didn't blame him. She was having trouble sorting out her own feelings on the matter.

"Bah, I'll tell you," Yamras grumbled, "I'll start with what I know." Mary slumped down as Yamras cleared his throat noisily. "A few days ago, Robert and Patrick asked me to check up on the lass, because she was sneaking out of the house for some reason."

Mary wanted to hit herself. How long had they known? She thought she had been careful about avoiding their suspicion, but they had noticed anyway. She felt like a complete fool, and sank even lower in her chair.

"All they knew was she kept going to this one tavern usually," Yamras continued, "So I hauled my beard over there to see what was what. Didn't find her, but I did run into Henry." Henry nodded, expression neutral. "At the time, I didn't think it was odd that he went there. Of course, what he told me took my mind off things..."

* * * * *

"So Henry was the one who told you about the prices?" Michael - at least, Henry guessed this was Williamkin's son - asked, cutting Yamras off.

"Him and the bartender at the tavern," Yamras's expression didn't change. Henry nodded, so far this made sense with what he knew. "I was angry," Yamras continued, "However, I thought a bit, and decided to look into this further."

"How?" Michael leaned forward, looking curious. Henry suspected that Yamras had just looked up the papers with the information at the traders' guild, but said nothing. His idea would be confirmed or denied soon enough.

"I went to the guild, lad, and had a look at the papers," Yamras said, "I'll never understand why humans have to write everything down. You'd think you could keep your word without having to-"

"Get to the point," Henry interrupted. He didn't like being rude, but he didn't have all day to listen to the dwarf complain about the supposed flaws of Amestraton.

"Ah, right," Yamras blinked, "So I looked it up, and they were right. So the next day...yesterday, I brought it up with Robert. That didn't go very well."

Michael nodded, "So that's how that happened. But what does this story have to do with the attack?" Henry reasoned an attack meant that he was either here to find out who did it, or protect them from future attacks. Considering what he knew about Councilman Williamkin's views, it was probably the former.

"I figured you'd want to know why I brought this mercenary," Yamras looked disappointed, "Thought you would have figured that out by now."

"Sorry," Michael sheepishly glanced down.

"I decided to go off and have a drink, so I went back to the other tavern," Yamras shrugged, "Figured I might as well tell the bartender he was right. But then Henry showed up again...and the bartender mentioned Mary."

"So...they know each other?" Michael looked at Mary, obviously puzzled. Apparently he wasn't that bright, having not figured out what was really going on. Henry found himself quite amused. No wonder Mary had thought that sneaking out like that would be a simple matter, if this young man was anything like his father.

"Oh, I'm fairly sure they know each other quite well, sure as my beard is brown," Yamras smiled widely, "And once I figured it out, I realized I actually like the whole thing."

"Huh?" Michael remained clueless. Henry was beginning to wonder if he even knew what romance was.

"I think...he means that the two of them are in love," Seluria spoke for the first time. Henry hadn't been really paying attention to her. He briefly wondered what she thought of him now that the situation had ended up the way it had. Turning his attention to Mary, he saw that she had a strange expression. Not quite embarrassment, but not quite fright either. He couldn't place it...but he could comfort her.

"It's alright, Mary," Henry said, reaching over to comfort her, "They were going to find out sometime anyway."

It happened so fast, Henry barely had time to realize it. One moment she was sitting near him, and the next she was crying, holding on to him so tightly it hurt. Henry dismissed the pain. He returned the embrace, guessing that it had been incredibly hard for her to bury her grief. While he didn't know what caused it, he did know that he could comfort her.

Looking around the room, he saw Yamras shake his head, and take a drink of ale. Seluria looked concerned, and Michael's gaze rapidly shifted between him and Mary. Figures, he thought, as Mary began to calm down. He stroked her hair, well aware that she'd never really let him hold her like this before. He'd be thankful for this...if he didn't have a nasty suspicion about this "attack" that had been mentioned.

Eventually Mary let go, and returned to her chair, eyes red. Henry turned his attention back to Yamras, "So, tell me about this attack."

* * * * *

Feeling like an utter fool for having acted like that in front of everyone, Mary listened as Yamras continued, "Someone snuck into the house and put sleeping poison in the sugarcane powder. The plan obviously was to get everyone to fall asleep, then snatch Seluria."

"So the plan went wrong," Henry stated. Mary could tell by the look on his face that he was thinking hard. She herself didn't know what to think, but perhaps Henry could sort through all of this.

"Robert and Seluria didn't put the powder in their tea, so they weren't asleep when the kidnapper came in," Yamras said, " The man pulled out knives, and Robert struggled with him. Robert got stabbed in the shoulder, but he knocked away one of the man's knives."

Mary winced, not wanting to be reminded of what had happened after that. "Seluria picked up the knife...and cut his throat," Yamras noted, frowning. Henry looked over at Seluria, eyes widening slightly. Mary wondered what was going through his head. Of course, since he already had known the elven girl...

"Also, it turns out...Patrick, the butler here...was allergic or something to the poison..." Yamras's voice trailed off.

"He's dead," Mary said, sniffing slightly. It hurt her deeply just to say it, but she knew no one else would, to avoid risking offending her. Although she should be feeling grateful, Mary just felt worse. Henry's gaze, both surprised and sympathetic, did comfort her a little.

"So," Henry said finally, clasping his hands, "You want me to find out who did this?"

"No," said Michael quietly, biting his lip, "We want you to stand guard here, to protect Seluria."

Henry blinked, then nodded, "Alright."

"So, about the pay rate..." Michael began. An odd though occurred to Mary. For all his dislike of becoming a merchant, Robert's son still had a good part of his father's skill in negotiation. She shook her head, realizing this was hardly the time or place to think of such things.

"I'll deal with that later," Henry leaned forward, "But...if there is any other information of relevance..."

For a moment, the room was silent. Mary wondered, should she tell them or not? If she did, they might blame her for what happened, but if she didn't, they could get hurt again...or someone could die. She didn't want that.

"Very well," Henry rose to his feet, "If there is nothing else..."

"Wait," Mary quietly cut him off, "I...I do know something..."

* * * * *

Henry looked over at Mary, a little surprised. He had expected Seluria herself to be the one to speak, given that she would likely know more details about this. However, she had remained silent, and Mary had spoken up.

"What do you know, Mary?" Michael narrowed his eyes, and also stood up. Henry also stood up and readied himself in case he became violent.

"Calm down, lad," Yamras said, "Let's all sit down." Henry promptly sat down, and Michael also returned to his seat, albeit with a scowl. "Now, Mary, you were saying?"

"On the night of the...orc attack," Mary began, speaking so quietly that Henry leaned forward to hear, "Seluria asked me to take her with me, so I did."

"And how did she know about Mary sneaking out?" Yamras grumbled, looking around the room.

"Um..." Michael looked hesitant, "I...sort of..."

"Bah!" Yamras slapped his face, "Go on, Mary."

"I took her out, and then a guard showed up and told us to go back home...and then..." Mary closed her eyes. Henry knew well the nature of the city guards, but something told him that wasn't it.

They all waited a minute, but Mary said nothing. "Mary?" Henry asked, wondering what was going on.

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head, "An orc showed up and clubbed the guard on the head, knocking him out." She hesitated a second before continuing, leaving Henry slightly worried. "I...took the guard's spear...and hit the orc over the head."

"Did you kill it or knock the brute out?" Yamras scratched at his chin.

"She...killed it." Seluria said softly. Henry reached over and rubbed Mary's hair, impressed. He'd seen many men run scared from the bestial and brutal orcs, and a few cut down. Yamras whistled, apparently also impressed.

"So we're dealing with the guard possibly knowing, then?" Yamras asked, "Bah, that makes things a bit harder."

"No..." Mary looked up, "Brother Adamkin showed up...and Seluria's hood had slipped off. He saw her..." She shook her head again, this time more violently. "If I had...not taken Seluria..."

"Well, that explains much," Henry commented, thinking rapidly. So that was how Adamkin had known of the elf. It was all starting to make much more sense.

"So, if I've got this right," Yamras said slowly, "Adamkin did it, or got someone to do it? And you knew he was going to do it?"

"No," Henry replied, "He wouldn't have the money to hire someone to do this. And the church never hires mercenaries..."

"By the ancestors, who did this then?" Yamras's voice rose in frustration.

"I don't know," Henry admitted, "But my guess is they probably found out from a member of the caravan who found out then." By this point, there was no way to track down that chain of information, so Henry hoped Yamras wouldn't ask him to try. "Assuming they were after Seluria to begin with."

"Bah...very well," Yamras grumbled, "We'll settle this later. For now, we need to figure out some kind of arrangement, since he'll need a place to sleep."

"That's a problem," Michael said, "There's only one open bed, and...well..." He glanced at Mary, and Henry understood instantly. He wasn't certain he wanted to sleep in her father's bed, given what happened.

"It's alright..." Mary blinked, "I need to go and prepare food." She exited the room.

"Might want to go talk to her, lad," Yamras told Henry, "I think she's blaming herself, when it's not really her fault." Henry nodded and went after Mary. He was worried, and with very good reason.

* * * * *

Mary entered the kitchen, and paused a moment. This was the room where she had loved to watch her mother cook; this was the room where her father had died. Why had she thought that coming in here would make her feel better? All it was accomplishing was making her cry again. Leaning on the counter, she shut her eyes.

"Mary," Henry said, walking into the room, "Are you alright?"

"No," she whispered, restraining herself from throwing herself at Henry again. "This...wasn't supposed to happen like this..." She trailed off, not wanting to say what was running through her mind: that deep down, a small part of her had wanted this.

"Come on, that's not how a wench should act," Henry said with a smirk.

"You're...telling a joke?" Mary was surprised. Henry had always struck her as being serious when it came to situations like these, so his attempt at humor caught her completely off guard.

"Yes," Henry commented dryly, "A joke. You should be laughing at it."

"But...I could have..." Mary protested, "I might have been the reason why..."

"This wasn't about Seluria," Henry interrupted her, holding up a hand.

* * * * *

"Huh?" Mary blurted out, looking confused. This was not entirely unexpected. Given her sorrow, she couldn't be expected to have thought this through.

"The real target was Councilman Williamkin," he explained, "If he was after Seluria, the first thing a kidnapper would have done would have been to grab her and then escape. He wouldn't have stopped to struggle with an onlooker...unless that was his plan all along."

"Are...you certain?" Mary looked at him, blinking away a few tears.

"I'll have to ask Seluria a few more questions," Henry answered, "But I think I'm right." Specifically, he needed to ask her what the kidnapper - no, the assassin - had said or done during the struggle. He'd worry about that a little later though.

Mary wiped her eyes. "So...you knew Seluria...all along?"

"Yes," Henry said, knowing that this had to have been bothering Mary that night at the tavern. A pity he couldn't have been honest with her...but then again, she probably had known more about the elf than he had.

"I would have told you...but I was told not to," Mary looked down.

"I was told the same," Henry noted, wondering if the whole thing was Yamras's idea or the councilman's. Not that it made any real difference.

"So that time in the tavern..." Mary hoarsely chuckled. Henry felt better, knowing Mary wasn't so saddened that she couldn't laugh. "I feel like a fool."

Henry nodded, "So...should I make you feel like more of one?

Mary blinked, then grinned, "How do you plan to do that?"

"For starters, by telling you it's far too early to fix dinner," Henry smirked.

"Oh..." Mary groaned, "I ought to throw something at you!"

Henry was happy that Mary was feeling better. Even though she'd probably be upset for a few days, she'd get over it. He wasn't certain he liked the idea of a gloomy Mary, especially given that he was likely to end up spending a lot more time with her.

"Coming?" he asked, and Mary nodded.

* * * * *

Mary followed Henry back into the parlor. She had to admit that she was feeling so upset anymore. It was almost like a ballad, the handsome man showing up and making the woman feel better. She reminded herself to mention it to him later, as he'd probably get a laugh out of it.

"Feeling better, lass?" Yamras asked as she walked in.

"Yes, thank you," Mary took a seat. There were more important matters to focus on at this point.

"Alright, I have a couple of questions for you, Seluria," Henry stated, folding his arms.

"What is it?" Seluria asked, her face slightly pale. Mary realized the girl still blamed herself, and felt even more sympathetic for her. Hopefully Henry would make things clear to her soon.

"When the intruder came into the dining room, did he go straight for you or the councilman?" Henry asked. Mary blinked, and then caught on. If Seluria had been the target...but wouldn't the intruder have wanted to remove any opposition? Something about this didn't make sense.

"He...he went after Robert first," Seluria looked slightly puzzled.

"Did he say anything?" Henry leaned forward. Mary wondered if perhaps he was being a little too forceful. Seluria shook her head.

"Well, that proves it," Henry looked around the room, meeting everyone's gaze, "The target was Councilman Williamkin."

"How do you reckon that?" Yamras scowled.

"If he was really after Seluria, he would have used the sleeping poison in something guaranteed to knock her out, and then gone straight for her," Henry crossed his arms, "The intruder did neither, so the target was probably Williamkin."

"But why would anyone target my father?" Michael asked, "I don't understand." Mary did understand, and had a rough idea of what Henry was going to say next.

"He's on the city council," Henry explained, frowning, "There are a lot of people who hate the council and the councilmen." He paused, letting that sink in, before continuing, "I don't particularly like them myself, but I'm not about to go around trying to off them. Some people, though..."

Michael though on that a moment. "And since my father is head of the traders' guild as well as a councilman..." He shook his head, and then rubbed his eyes. "I think I need a drink."

"I'd offer you some of my ale, lad," Yamras chuckled, "But I don't think your father would approve." Mary was unable to suppress a small laugh at that.

"I'll go prepare some tea," she said, leaving the room for the kitchen yet again. At least this time she was actually going to do something in there, instead of feeling sad and depressed. She suddenly stopped, realizing that there was no sugarcane powder available; Michael had disposed of it. Mary wrinkled her nose, not liking the idea of serving tea that wasn't sweet.

* * * * *

"So...it wasn't because of me?" Seluria asked in the silence following Mary's departure.

"Looks like it wasn't, lass," Yamras said, smiling through his beard at the elf, "We can relax a little, although I think Henry can stay for now."

Michael nodded along, and Henry was relieved to know that they believed him. He had no actual way of knowing why the intruder had broken into the house. All he did know was that if the target was Seluria, it had been a particularly clumsy attempt. While that increased the likelihood that it had been aimed at Councilman Williamkin, it did not eliminate other possibilities.

However, Henry knew that reassuring them was the top priority, even if it meant he wasn't entirely honest with them. Panicked people made the most mistakes, and Henry had to keep them calm in order to prevent any more errors, like the one Mary had made. He couldn't hold it against her for being sympathetic to the elven girl, as they faced similar situations. That didn't make taking Seluria out any less of a fool's notion.

At least hopefully he'd not have to worry about her trying to sneak out again. Henry knew Seluria would want to avoid a repeat of what happened the night of the orc attack. She certainly wouldn't get anyone else here to assist if her in such a thing. He didn't think there was anything to worry about from that side of the issue.

Of more concern was the obvious detail that the councilman would likely not approve of him being here. Mary never had explained why he didn't employ guards. Then again, he hadn't seen any guards at Councilman Richardkin's house either, so it could be something to do with being wealthy, or being a councilman. Typical of them to be so arrogant, thinking no one would come after them.

But all this would be dealt with later. For now, Henry had to see the house himself. "Excuse me," he turned to Michael, "Could you show me around the house so I can familiarize myself?"

Michael blinked, "Oh, of course. Follow me." As Michael headed for the doors, Henry did just that.

* * * * *

Chapter 7

* * * * *

Henry laid quietly in the unfamiliar bed, in the darkened room that had, a day ago, belonged to a different man. He wasn't used to a bed like this, as its softness made it difficult for him to sleep. Still, you couldn't control all the details of a job. It wasn't like he could just bring his bed from his little house to this...giant building.

It didn't help that the situation worried him. Instinctively, he knew that there was some detail he was missing, despite his earlier questioning of everyone. He'd figure it out in the next couple of days. Most likely Michael would be the one to admit it, since he seemed the most honest and open of the group. Of course, he had to be prepared for other possibilities as well.

Michael was truly naïve, Henry thought to himself. He had questioned Henry's decision to sleep on the same schedule as everyone else, not understanding the logic involved. The most important thing about any kind of guard work was knowing when to look imposing, and when not to. At this point, Henry knew the best approach would be to appear as non-threatening as possible, so that any attackers would not number more than one or two men.

Although he had been asked not to investigate the events, Henry understood that at some point he would be forced to. Ignorance of the situation would only cause more problems. In addition, he knew Councilman Williamkin would be much more accepting of Henry if he found out exactly what happened. But such things were for tomorrow. For now he needed sleep.

Suddenly, the door to his room (or Mary's father's room, he wasn't certain which at this point) creaked open. Turning his head, he saw a figure standing in the doorway. Although the dim light meant he couldn't tell exactly who it was, the outline was that of someone wearing a dress. Which meant it had to be either Seluria or Mary.

"H-Henry?" Mary's voice said.

"Yes?" he asked wearily. Apparently he wasn't going to get to sleep just yet.

"Can I..." she faltered for a second, "Can I lay down with you?"

"Uh," Henry was thrown off by the request, but agreed, "Alright."

Mary lay down next to him on the bed and embraced him, brushing up against his shoulder slightly. The bed was a bit too narrow for the both of them, but Henry could picture - and had been in - far worse sleeping arrangements than this. Besides, he knew Mary needed this, probably more than he needed to slumber.

At least she hadn't asked to go further than simply laying there. Unlike most mercenaries, Henry knew full well what the consequences of that were. He wasn't about to leave anyone else to the same fate he had suffered, and he didn't have enough money right now to prevent it. Even if it was Mary, of all people, Henry would have to say no.

Still, he had to admit that having Mary lay next to him like that felt...right, somehow. Despite the uncomfortable and now-cramped bed, Henry was more relaxed than he had been. Closing his eyes, he let out a breath. Hopefully he'd fall asleep soon.

* * * * *

Mary walked towards the dining room, feeling somewhat refreshed. Although she had slept slightly late, she realized that sleeping next to Henry had somehow been what she needed. While she still wished her father were here, she was able to focus on the matter at hand. Which was good, because now she would have to do all the work her father did, and still keep up with her own.

Luckily, she could now set her own work pace, which...Mary shook her head. Despite the fact that her father was dead, she couldn't help but think of ways she benefited from his absence. Henry's all too practical ways of thought were influencing her, and she was beginning to suspect that it wasn't necessarily the best thing.

Entering the room, Mary noted everyone was there...and eating. She hadn't even fixed food yet, so who had done it?

"Ah, good morning," Yamras said, winking, "You should be well rested...so to speak."

"Huh?" Mary felt puzzled, then she realized he must have seen her sleeping with Henry. That would mean the dwarf thought she had...she felt her face flush. "I didn't really do anything with him, alright?"

"Huh?" Michael echoed Mary's earlier confusion, "What?"

"Sure you didn't, lass," Yamras chuckled, "Sure you didn't."

Mary's face grew hot. This wasn't something she wanted to discuss in front of Michael...or anyone, really. While she hadn't spent much time with Yamras, she wondered if he always talked about such things.

"Enough," Henry spoke with finality, "We did not, so stop." Mary was grateful that he was sticking up for her.

"Ah, calm down, lad," Yamras shook his head, "I was only teasing."

"Teasing aside..." Michael leaned forward, "Mary will need to go to the store later, to purchase sugarcane powder along with other supplies...right?"

"Yes," Mary confirmed, not entirely certain she could do it. Her father had usually handled that business, although occasionally she had been allowed to come. She still didn't quite understand why he felt it necessary to visit multiple shops to get everything. And now...her father would never answer any questions about the matter, ever again.

"Yamras, can you accompany her?" Michael asked, surprising Mary.

"Sure," the dwarf shrugged, "I'll keep her safe, sure as my beard is brown."

Mary frowned. A part of her wanted Henry to go with her, to keep her company. It would be preferable to Yamras's more...rough personality. However, she knew Henry's job right now was to keep Seluria and Michael safe first and foremost. Her own desires would have to be set aside for now, as much as she disliked it.

"So...who made the food?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"Henry and Seluria did," Michael noted, "He said you needed the rest, and I didn't blame him."

"I can't either, after what..." Yamras closed his mouth after Michael shot him a irritated look. Mary wanted to throw something at the dwarf. Why couldn't he give that joke up? She was a bit surprised though, as she had not known that Henry knew anything about cooking. Then again, she supposed he couldn't have eaten at a tavern for every meal every day.

"You going to eat?" Yamras said, making Mary realize she had gotten lost in thought again. She'd have to be better about it, since her father wasn't around to remind her.

"Alright," Mary took a seat next to Henry, and served herself the stew that he had made. While normally she would have eaten in the kitchen, there was no point in going there when all of the food was already here. Also, it was better to be in the same room as Henry, given that there was an enemy out there. Mary definitely felt safer being near Henry. She was much less likely to be hurt should problems break out.

Taking a bite, Mary was pleasantly surprised as how good it tasted. While it was a little salty, it was still very flavorful, but not overly so. She'd have to get Henry to teach her how to make this stew at a later point. For now, though, she had to finish eating and take care of her work first.

* * * * *

Henry was very annoyed at Yamras' insistence at making sexual references. Thinking about it, he remembered that the dwarf had done so back in Pordrin. While Henry didn't mind a good laugh now and then, crude humor like that had never appealed to him, and never would. Yet again, he found himself wondering if Yamras' behavior was typical for a dwarf.

Not that he wasn't equally annoyed at Michael's decision to send Yamras out with Mary. They might as well put up a sign proclaiming them to be paranoid. That sort of attention they did not need right now. In fact, that might just explain why Councilman Williamkin had never hired guards for his house to begin with...but then he wouldn't have needed guards for his caravans, had he thought that way. In the end, there wasn't a clear answer to the councilman's choices.

Putting thoughts of that aside, Henry quickly finished his dish. Judging from Mary's reactions, she was enjoying it as well. While he had told her that he was quite capable of cooking food, at the time he had thought she hadn't believed him. No doubt they'd be able to joke about it later today, but for now, both of them had their work.

Not that Henry's work really amounted to much. Later today he'd want to go get more changes of clothing from his house, but until Yamras got back from the planned shopping excursion with Mary he'd have to wait. Not that he was bothered, but he suspected that Michael would want him to at least not wear the same thing repeatedly. Henry had to admit he preferred it that way too, but there had been jobs in the past where he hadn't had a choice.

Mary soon finished her dish and left the room, clearly focused on her work. As long as she wasn't grieving more, Henry was pleased. As Yamras got up and departed as well, Henry leaned against the wall with a sigh.

"I'm going to my room for a while," Michael said, and headed out the door, leaving just Seluria in the room with Henry. He just stood there, knowing what he wanted to say and not entirely certain of how to say it. If any of the others had been there, they would have most likely reprimanded him for it. But, since they were alone...

"Okay, what is it?" Seluria suddenly asked, apparently well aware that Henry had been eying her. She was smart - Henry had to admit that much.

"I have a question," Henry stated.

"Go ahead and ask," Seluria sounded oddly standoffish, something that made Henry wonder what the elf was thinking.

"Why did you kill the intruder?" Henry asked. Up to this point, Seluria had left an impression of being sweet and innocent...one Henry hadn't believed for a moment. The elf had apparently survived on her own in the wilderness for some time, so there was more to her than what most would think. Her killing the intruder proved that she could be ruthless, if the need arose.

"He was an enemy," Seluria stated, frowning, "If I hadn't killed him, he would have killed Robert."

"True," Henry revised his earlier opinion. Perhaps she was fairly tough and ruthless, but that didn't make her physically strong. It had been a foolish idea, thinking of bringing up the possibility of having captured the intruder. Given the situation, Seluria had chosen the best course of action.

However, he could easily turn his own foolishness to his advantage. "It's good, because I doubt Michael or Mary could bring themselves to kill if they had to." Henry paused, watching that sink in, then continued, "It's good that I can count on someone to do what's needed."

"Okay," Seluria looked pale. It seemed like she didn't like the idea herself, but hopefully she'd be ready if the worst happened. Henry knew he needed a backup plan for such a case, and Seluria seemed to be the best person to rely on for this. Especially considering how few knew she existed, which might just give them the edge.

"But why...why the heck wouldn't you trust Mary with this?" she wondered out loud, "You love her, and she did kill that orc."

Henry frowned. "There's a difference between killing an orc and killing a person," he explained, "I don't think Mary is capable of the latter."

"The ladder?" Seluria asked confusedly.

"The second of the two," Henry was partly exasperated with the elf, and partly with himself for not being clear. Although he didn't know how he could have better understood, there should have been a way.

"I see," Seluria said, frowning. Henry nodded as she left the room, and then began to head out the door himself. Time to go stand around in the front hall and get back to the job at hand. He'd wasted enough time in here.

* * * * *

Mary walked through the market with Yamras trailing behind her. Naturally, the two of them were drawing odd looks from passerby, mainly due to the fact that a dwarf was clearly an unusual sight on the streets of Amestraton. Yamras didn't seem to care. Clearly, he was used to these looks by now. However, it made Mary nervous, knowing how much attention they were getting.

Again, Mary wished Henry could have come instead of Yamras. She had never particularly liked shopping in and of itself. The only reason she had preferred it to housework was actually being able to get out of the house. But now that she could get out of the house, and be part of the outside world, she found that she didn't want to.

She wasn't certain where her desire to leave the house came from. Mary had known full well that moving in with Henry meant she would have eventually needed to take on those responsibilities. Perhaps it was her love for Henry that made that bearable...no, that wasn't the case either. She shook her head, confused. She'd figure it out later.

Walking up to a shop she remembered her father taking her to once, she headed in, Yamras following. Time to purchase some sugarcane powder, among other things.

* * * * *

Henry began to run when he heard Michael's raised voice. He didn't know what the problem was, and knowing his luck it was probably something trivial. However, he'd be a fool to not be ready in case there was a serious threat. Running up to the parlor door, he could now make out what was being said.

"...were you thinking?" Michael's tone was mild, but something about his voice put Henry on his guard..

Henry entered the room to find Michael staring furiously at Seluria, who was looking at him confusedly. A bucket filled with water sat near her feet, and she was holding a wet rag. It was obvious that Seluria had planned to try her hand at cleaning, but she didn't know what she was doing.

Might as well ask. "What's going on here?"

He was, of course, ignored. "You would have ruined those paintings," Michael continued to speak.

"Calm down," Henry raised his own voice slightly, drawing the attention of the two of them. He felt a little more relaxed, knowing this was a minor issue, but still readied himself in case it worsened.

"Do you know what would have happened if she had tried to dust those paintings with a wet rag?" Michael turned to face Henry.

"Yes," Henry kept himself calm despite the situation. The difference between his years of experience and Michael's naiveté showed clearly.

"You..." Michael sputtered, clenching his fists.

"Just because someone makes an error," Henry continued, "doesn't mean you have to get angry." At the same time, Henry suspected that there was more than anger at work here. It never was as simple as many made it out to be.

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Michael suddenly yelled, making Seluria flinch. Henry didn't let himself react, as he'd seen people panic before. Inwardly, he wondered why Michael had suddenly started to act this way now. Based on what Mary had told him, he hardly seemed the type to have any real problems of that sort. But speculation was useless at this point.

"I'm sorry," Seluria said, "I just wanted to help out..."

"The next time you want to help out with work, talk to Mary first," Henry stated, then turned back to Michael "And you may want to go rest in your room."

Michael shot both of them a glare, then stormed out. Seluria looked at him guiltily as he left the room. Henry sighed, wondering how someone who had an upbringing like that could end up like this.

* * * * *

"Well, how was I supposed to know the store got sold?" Mary protested to Yamras. The two stood outside the store, drawing more curious glances from other people.

"Lass...how long has it been since you went shopping?" he asked back, raising one eyebrow at her.

Mary thought about it, but couldn't remember. She knew her father had taken her shopping with him to that at some point, but she couldn't recall exactly when. However, it had not been recent; she had rarely gone shopping. In fact, Mary couldn't even remember exactly what her father had bought then. It irked her, realizing that she knew very little about shopping.

"Well?" Yamras persisted, giving her a curious look.

"Um...a few years?" Mary said sheepishly. She honestly could not remember, no matter how hard she tried.

"Lass...tell me you're joking," Yamras narrowed his eyes.

"No," Mary admitted, feeling completely foolish now, "I'm not."

"Bah, that's crazy," the dwarf scowled, shaking his head, "So you're saying you have no idea where to shop?"

"No," Mary knew she looked bad.  
Yamras groaned, "At least now I get that there were more reasons for you to be sneaking out than just to see Henry." He paused a moment, then continued, "How long have you known that lad anyway?"

"A little over a year," Mary replied, inwardly feeling grateful the subject had been changed.

"That long?" Yamras blinked, "They told me they only found out about you sneaking out a few days ago. Must have been blinded by their beards. Uh, so to speak."

Mary shrugged, not certain what to make of that. "Well...I was sneaking out before I even met Henry, for about a month before," she said, deciding to be honest. There was no reason to conceal things at this point.

"Heh," Yamras chuckled, "They really weren't paying you much attention then. Bet you were much better off around Henry." Mary nodded, and then Yamras grinned, "Ah, that's the solution to this problem! Wait here." Without another word Yamras trotted off, leaving Mary standing there.

She wondered what plan the dwarf had thought of. However, there was nothing for her to do but wait and see what happened. While she could find her way back to the house, she was too curious to see what the dwarf thought of to bother leaving right now. Stifling a yawn, she began to wait.

* * * * *

Returning to his position in the front hall, Henry had to wonder about Seluria. Her desire to help out, he guessed, came from the fact that she still felt guilty over what had happened. She was most likely not the reason for the attack, and even if she was, the elf hadn't done anything to cause it. He wondered how he could convince her of that fact. Perhaps Mary would be better suited to it, since apparently she had been the one to look after Seluria.

Michael's attitude was far more problematic. It was obvious he had some problems to work out with Seluria, and most likely with Councilman Williamkin as well. In actuality, it seemed like everyone staying in this house except him (and perhaps Yamras) had emotional issues of one form or another. And he was expected to keep all of them safe? Henry suspected he needed to look more into jobs before taking them.

Nothing that could be done about it now, he told himself. Besides, he knew the moment that he had learned Mary was involved, he was involved as well. He snorted at the thought: Henry Tylaris, one of the most renowned mercenaries of Amestraton, taking a job for the sake of the woman he loved. It was very different from the sort of person he had used to be.

The front door opened, and Henry looked up to see Yamras walk in...without Mary. That worried him a little...where was Mary?

"Hey, lad," Yamras said as soon as the dwarf spotted him, "We're switching."

"Switching?" Henry was confused.

"Turns out Mary knows nothing about where to buy food or such," Yamras grumbled, "If I had known, I would have given someone a piece of my-"

"You want me to go meet her?" Henry asked, understanding what was needed.

"Of course," Yamras sighed, "I'll stay here and keep an eye on things."

"You might want to go talk to Michael then," Henry noted, realizing he could use this to his advantage.

"Ah, what's up?" Yamras said.

"He and Seluria had an argument," Henry decided to keep things simple. The dwarf would find out the details soon enough anyway.

"Bah, should have known better than to leave those two together," Yamras groaned, "My beard will fall out at the rate that goes on."

Henry didn't even bother to comment on that one, and just headed out the door. All the while, he was beginning to wonder if the death of Mary's father was a good thing. The fact that he hadn't taught his own daughter practical skills caught Henry off guard completely. It was disturbing, realizing that Mary had been far more sheltered than even he had thought. Thankfully, she was smart enough that she should learn quickly.

From guarding the house to showing Mary the location of a general store, this job had become very strange. Apparently it was going to involve far more than simply standing guard. Henry was actually glad he had decided to postpone the discussion of payment. He was planning on demanding more for doing this. Perhaps he could even get enough so that Mary could finally move in with him...

* * * * *

"Hello," said a familiar voice behind Mary. She turned around to see Brother Adamkin standing there, a friendly smile on his face.

"Hello, Brother," Mary had actually seen him walking down the street a few minutes ago, so this time she hadn't been surprised. In fact, it amused her slightly that she actually had avoided being caught off guard for once.

"Shopping as usual, I see," Adamkin smiled gently. Mary reminded herself that this man, at the moment, might be dangerous.

"I'm actually waiting for someone," Mary explained, hoping he would leave soon. It was strange. A few days ago she had thought of this man as someone to admire...but given what he knew, she couldn't see him the same way.

"Oh, alright," the man frowned, "But I have a small request for you."

"Huh?" Mary asked, puzzled.

The brother lowered his voice, so that none of the passerby could hear them, "I would like to meet with the elf you are keeping hidden."

Mary didn't know exactly what to say to that. She kept herself calm, despite wanting to panic. This did prove that Adamkin did have something planned, but it didn't prove what. Think, Mary, she told herself. What could she do in this situation?

"Well?" Adamkin asked.

Mary decided on the spot to play for time. "I'll consider it," she said quietly, suppressing her urge to get as far as possible from this man.

"Alright," Brother Adamkin nodded, "I will wait for you to send word." He walked off without another word.

Mary waited until he was further down the street before slumping against the wall in relief. Never mind that it drew more odd looks. That conversation had been extremely nerve-wracking for her to deal with. She hoped Yamras got back soon, so she could tell him what had happened. He or Henry could decide what to do about this.

"Hey," Henry's voice caught her completely off guard, "What's wrong?"

* * * * *

Mary spun around, startled as usual. Henry was amused. Despite all that had happened recently, some things never changed. Mary's tendency to not notice people approaching her was one of those things.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, eyes wide, "Where's Yamras?

"He's going to go stand guard, while I get to take you shopping," Henry explained.

Mary's shoulders slumped. "I'm such a fool," she said quietly, looking down at the cobblestones.

"Yes, but there's one difference between you and most other fools," Henry stated.

"What's that?" Mary looked up again.

"You know me." Henry said simply. Mary looked at him for a moment, and then reached over and hugged him. "Do you really want to do that in front of everyone?"

Mary instantly let go, blushing. "You..." she grumbled, and then laughed in spite of herself. "Alright, you win."

Henry decided to get the thing that was bothering him out there. "Since I win," he told Mary, "you have to tell me what Brother Adamkin wanted with you."

Mary frowned, and lowered her voice, "He wanted me...to do the same thing he asked of you."

Henry was impressed that she was able to phrase it so that no one who overheard their conversation could figure it out. "Arranging a meeting?"

"Yes," Mary said, looking worried. Henry couldn't blame her. The persistence of Adamkin was becoming bothersome.

"What did you tell him?" Henry asked.

"I'd told him...it would be considered," Mary glanced down again, "Was that alright?"

"That should work," Henry said. Playing for time to plan their actions was a safe option, and Mary had done the right thing. "Now...about this shopping..."

* * * * *

Mary fell in behind Henry as he walked down the street. She was surprised that Yamras had thought of the idea of having him do the shopping. She had figured he would be the most insistent on Henry staying behind to guard the house. She didn't quite understand the reasoning involved, surely someone...and then it hit her.

There wasn't anyone else in the house who knew where to shop. In fact, other than her and Henry, none of the other three knew anything about it. She should have thought of that earlier, before they even left the house.

"I'm such a fool," she muttered.

"Don't repeat yourself," Henry said, not slowing down in the least. Mary hadn't expected him to overhear her, and felt even more foolish.

"I'm sorry..." her voice trailed off. She really couldn't think of anything to say.

"For what?" Henry stopped and turned, giving her a serious look. "It's not your fault that your father and Williamkin kept you sheltered."

Mary opened her mouth to protest, and then closed it, realizing Henry was right. She never had really been able to work with other people. In fact, that was why she had started sneaking out to begin with. Her father had never really been willing to compromise, and Robert...thinking back, Robert had always really just deferred to her father's judgment.

Although she really shouldn't feel that way after her father's death, Mary was more frustrated than ever. How could he have not predicted this? While it was true that he couldn't know of the poison, he had done nothing to prepare her for what would happen if he died or something else. He hadn't planned for the future - and neither had Mary.

"You coming?" Henry asked. Mary realized she was being left behind, and hurried to catch up. As she fell into line behind Henry, she swore that she wouldn't be caught looking so foolish again.

* * * * *

Henry paused as they arrived at the shop, and turned to face Mary. "Just to be certain," he asked, "What exactly do you need to buy?"

Mary paused, looking thoughtful. "A barrel of sugarcane powder, half a barrel of flour, and...um...a crate of fresh strawberries," she said after a moment.

"Alright," Henry said, and entered the store, Mary following.

"Hey, Henry! Good to see you," the shopkeep said.

"Good to see you too, Charlen," Henry walked up and shook his hand. If there was one person he could count on to do good business, it was this man.

"So, who's the lady?" Charlen turned to regard Mary.

"Part of my job," Henry said. He didn't want to reveal too many details, all things considered.

"Oh, not going to tell me again? Alright then," the shopkeep nodded, "What'll you be buying?"

"Barrel of sugarcane, half of flour, and crate of strawberries, fresh," Henry explained.

Charlen whistled. "That's a lot. You got a way of getting it back?"

Henry shook his head, "Can you deliver it to Councilman Williamkin's house?"

"A councilman, eh? Moving up in the world, aren't you," Charlen chuckled, "Of course, delivery will cost you extra, so...eighty worthings.'

"Seventy-five," Henry stated.

Frowning, Charlen studied Henry for a moment. "Alright, deal," the shopkeep finally said, "I'll have it sent later today."

Henry nodded and handed over the money Mary had supplied him with. He didn't particularly like carrying around so much as once, but it couldn't be helped. Silently, he walked out, with Mary following silently. That was a good deal, and most likely better than what he would have gotten elsewhere.

* * * * *

Perhaps it was just her memory failing again, but Mary didn't remember the last shop she had visited being quite so...dirty. She was probably just used to cleaning every day, and what resulted from that, she decided. She'd better get used to it, seeing as Henry was not known for his cleanliness. In fact, the first time she had seen the inside of his house, Mary had fought the urge to start cleaning it immediately.

Dirty or not, it was still where she wanted to live. Even though her father...Mary frowned as she thought about it. To be honest, her father's actions were one of the main reasons she had wanted to get away from the house. And now that he was gone...maybe it could work the other way. If Henry moved into Robert's house...

No, he never would. Henry had always been independent, and his distrust of Robert and the other councilmen meant there was no chance of him agreeing to that. Also, Robert would never hire someone like Henry to serve as a butler...Mary knew full well how important social graces were for the position, and Henry wasn't exactly in full possession of those. And obviously Robert wouldn't hire him as a guard...

She sighed quietly, wishing life were far simpler than it was. Despite everything that had happened, she still didn't want to upset anyone.

* * * * *

Henry entered the house calmly just ahead of Mary. Looking around, he admitted that he didn't mind the décor nearly as much as he had at Councilman Richardkin's. It was somewhat more muted, and mostly consisted of earthen-hued paintings of various people. No doubt they were friends and family of Williamkin. He had seen one that looked like a much younger Michael.

Yamras entered the front hall, and Henry dismissed his thoughts about the house. Now was the time for more practical matters, such as what had Michael said. Speaking thereof, Michael entered the room, followed by Seluria.

"Hello," Yamras greeted the two, "Where are you hiding the goods? I know you don't have beards to stick them behind, so..."

"They'll be delivered here later," Henry interrupted the dwarf, not wanting him to start making more beard jokes. They were beginning to get annoying. "So, how did your talk with Michael go?"

"Huh?" Mary sounded confused, "What talk?'

"I'll explain later, lass," Yamras said, "I think the lad has something to say to Henry, though"

"I...I'm sorry about the way I acted before," Michael quietly spoke, "I just...it's harder than I thought, trying to get along without my father."

Mary blinked, and Henry nodded. No doubt Yamras had put Michael up to this, but he could live with that for now. There was no need to make the situation worse than it was. As long as everyone was satisfied, they could get on with more important matters.

"Apology accepted," Henry said.

"Good. Now that that's done with, "Yamras chuckled, looking at Mary, "Perhaps you should explain the finer points of cleaning to Seluria here."

"Um...alright," Mary looked even more confused. Henry knew he might as well explain the situation to her, or she'd be hopeless.

* * * * *

Mary walked into the kitchen to start fixing dinner. The sugarcane powder had not arrived yet, but thankfully she didn't need it to begin her work. As Seluria entered the room, Mary turned to face her. She had decided that it was best that the elven girl not help with the cleaning, but assisting with cooking was alright.

While Michael's reaction to what Seluria had tried to do was extreme, he was right to be upset. Doing things of which you were ignorant was not the best idea. This was part of the reason Mary was so frustrated with herself and her father over the whole shopping debacle. She didn't want to repeat the mistakes of the past.

"So, what are we cooking today?" Seluria asked.

Mary thought for a moment. Michael had requested something exotic, and she couldn't blame him, given the repetitiveness of the food she had cooked before...no, she needed to not think about that now. Considering it, Mary decided exactly what dish to prepare.

"We're cooking something called pasketti," Mary declared, heading over to the cabinet. Thankfully, there were still plenty of the dried noodles left there unused, and they had kept well. She set them aside, and looked around. There didn't seem to be any water left. She'd have to go haul in some more.

"Excuse me a moment," Mary said, grabbing the bucket...and realizing it had water in it. Where had...of course, Seluria had filled this bucket earlier in her errant attempt at cleaning. That made it a lot easier. "Or not," she added, smiling at Seluria. Carrying the bucket over, Mary set it down and pulled out a pot, and then poured the water into it.

Mary carried the pot over to the stove and set it on top. Seluria walked over and eyed it curiously. "You're boiling the water?" the girl guessed.

"Correct," Mary nodded, pleased she caught on so quickly. "Once the water is boiling we'll cook the noodles in it." She gestured at the noodles she had set down.

"So that's all there is to this...pasketti?" Seluria asked.

"No," Mary corrected her, "Now we get to make the sauce."

* * * * *

"Bah, I still think all those papers are a waste," Yamras crossed his arms.

"But can you think of a better way of keeping track of information?" Michael challenged the dwarf's statement.

Henry sighed and leaned against the wall, not bothering to hide his boredom. This argument, started by a complaint by Yamras, was going nowhere fast. Neither of the two was going to give in to the other. In all likelihood, this was going to continue until dinner at least, and possibly after that.

"Alright then," Michael suddenly said, "Henry, what do you think about this issue?  
Henry didn't really want to get involved, but he doubted he'd be left alone until he answered. "I dislike the idea."

Yamras chuckled, "See, lad, Henry knows what he's talking about."

"I still don't think there's a good way to holding on to information," Michael frowned.

"I told you already, it's called remembering it," Yamras tapped his head as he spoke, "Your head's for more than wearing a beard, after all."

Henry rolled his eyes. This debate had gone in circles, and would keep doing so. Honestly, how could anyone enjoy debating mundane issues like this? It was like comparing how you ate food for a third of a day or something like that. Completely pointless, and all it did was waste time. Couldn't either of these two find something more practical to do?

Henry hoped Mary found Seluria better company than these two. At least that way one of them would be happy...

* * * * *

"And now we let it cook." Mary concluded. The sauce was cooking, the noodles were being boiled, and all was well. Seluria had ended up mashing most of the tomatoes into paste for the sauce, and had done a very good job. She wondered if her mother had felt a similar sense of pride from teaching her as she now felt from teaching Seluria.

"So that's all?" Seluria asked, "I thought...it would be a heck of a lot more complicated than that."

"Of course not," Mary chuckled. Seluria did have a knack for cooking, which did partly explain her ease here. It was good to have some assistance though. Seluria should definitely spend more time in the kitchen, Mary thought.

A sudden knock at the door startled Mary. "Get going!" she hissed to Seluria, who rapidly exited the room. Mary let out a breath and headed to the side door. This had to be the delivery of the purchases from the store. Deliveries like that almost always never came in from the front.

Mary opened the door to see a very large man standing there, far more muscular than she had ever seen. He wore clothing that looked far too unsuited for the chilly weather, but then again perhaps he was large enough it didn't matter.

"Delivery for the councilman's house?" he said in a deep voice.

"Um, yes," Mary said, flustered.

"Right, crate of strawberries and barrels of flour and sugarcane powder," the man said, grabbing a barrel from just out of Mary's sight and walking in. "Where do you want this?"

"In the storage room," Mary moved over and opened the door for the man. He carried the barrel in, and then came back out for the next one. Mary stood there watching him, then shook herself. By the Three Saints, she had better things to do than just look on. She checked on the pasketti noodles boiling...they were coming along quite nicely.

"That's the last of it then," the big man said, having just carried the crate in.

"Thank you," Mary nodded, "and good day,"

"You can thank me by passing on a message," the man said, smirking.

"What message?" Mary asked, caught off guard.

"Tell Henry there's an interesting job open at the guild, one he ought to look into," the man said, "I'd tell him myself, but I've got to go get ready. I'm leaving tomorrow at dawn on another job."

"Oh, alright," Mary said, wondering how the man had known Henry was here.

"Make certain he knows the message is from Erik," the big man said, and paused before he exited the house. "Also, tell him he picked a pretty woman to fall in love with."

Mary blushed, half embarrassed, half furious. Did everyone in Amestraton know about the two of them? It was certainly beginning to seem that way. Putting thoughts of that aside, Mary wondered what job this Erik thought Henry would be interested in. Not that he would take it; he had told her he only took one job at a time before, and she had no reason to think that had changed.

Checking the noodles again, she decided they were ready. Time to prepare the dinner dishes for everyone.

* * * * *

Henry watched as Mary brought the dishes in, and stared. It looked like...worms covered in reddish sauce. It didn't look appetizing, and furthermore, he would have to drink tea, which he detested. Henry shook his head, knowing that pointing either of those out in front of Mary was probably a very bad idea.

"It...looks like..." Seluria spoke up as Mary set her plate down in front of her, "...worms."

Yamras burst out laughing, while Michael coughed...obviously trying to hide his own laughter. Looking over at Mary, Henry saw she was standing there biting her lip...and then she couldn't hold it in, and started laughing herself. Henry quietly sighed in relief, glad she wasn't offended. Although that raised the question of how he and the elf had thought the same thing.

He was probably giving it far too much thought. Taking a bite, he found that it actually tasted good, if a bit richer than he was used to. Well, he guessed he really needed to stop trying to judge things by first appearances. He began to eat, suddenly feeling very hungry.

* * * * *

Mary sighed, and lay down in exhaustion. The cleaning after dinner had left her too tired to even read her book. She just wanted to get some sleep. It had been one of those days.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. "Come in," she said wearily.

Henry opened the door and entered the room, looking serious. "You alright?" he asked slowly.

Mary sat up and nodded. "Just tired, that's all."

"Then you need to get some sleep," Henry told her, obviously concerned.

"Right, I will," Mary yawned, agreeing completely. Henry turned to exit the room, and suddenly Mary was reminded of something. "Wait."

"What is it?" Henry half-turned, looking at her.

"The man doing the delivery from the store had a message for you about an interesting job," Mary explained, "I think he was named...Erik."

Henry stood there for a minute. Finally he spoke, "It doesn't matter. I'm not taking another job while I'm on this one. Thank you for telling me though."

That had been exactly what she had expected him to say. She yawned again, and Henry, apparently taking note of it, left the room silently.

* * * * *

Henry stood in the empty dining hall, waiting for Mary to bring in the breakfast this morning. He found it a bit odd how readily he had adapted to the schedule of this house. Normally he had to constantly remind himself of these sorts of things, but in this case it just came naturally.

Seluria entered the room, and looked around. "Where the heck is everyone?" she asked, looking puzzled by the mundane appearance.

"Asleep, I think," Henry answered. Michael had stayed up late, looking through some books - if Henry understood it, he had been researching information about elves. Yamras had also stayed up late, but for some other reason Henry did not understand.

"Everyone?" Seluria looked definitely surprised.

"Well, Mary's in the kitchen," Henry admitted, "Michael and Yamras, however..."

"I understand," Seluria said, and promptly exited the room, presumably to go help Mary. Henry was beginning to get a little worried by her determination to work. Even though it was most likely to be her simply trying to work off the sentence of the dwarves, it bothered him slightly. He'd discuss it with Yamras later.

Right now, he wanted Mary to hurry with the food. He was feeling very hungry, and wanted to eat above all else.

* * * * *

Mary had just finished preparing the flatcakes to be taken to the dining room when Seluria walked in. "Okay, so how can I help?" Seluria asked.

"I just finished, sorry," Mary told the girl, "You can carry the tea tray though."

Seluria nodded and took the tray of drinks, and Mary took the food. The two headed for the kitchen, footsteps echoing down the hall. Looking at Seluria, Mary noticed that she seemed to be straining slightly to carry the weight of the tray. Mary guessed that Seluria wasn't used to hard work the same way she was. Being fairly physically strong was one benefit Mary had gotten being a maid.

The two entered the dining hall, to see Henry standing there. "About time," he complained in a tone that let Mary know he was teasing. Typical of him, making jokes like that.

Seluria looked back and forth between the two of them. "Are you sure you're in love with him?" she asked, frowning at Mary.

"Of course," Mary started laughing, finding that incredibly funny - certainly more humorous than it ought to be. It was probably the way the girl had said it that made it so funny.

Henry gave Mary a very strange look, before chuckling himself. "Let's eat then," he said, taking a seat at the table. Mary nodded and began to pass around the plates.

* * * * *

When the knock on the door came, Henry was standing guard in the front hall. Walking forward, he opened the door to find a strange well-dressed man he didn't recognize. However, the medallion he wore identified him as a doctor.

"Hello, I am Doctor Albertkin," the man spoke in a dreamy voice, "I'm, uh, here to talk about the results of the examination on Patrick Codikin's, uh, body."

Henry sighed and nodded. While this was hardly part of his job, he supposed he ought to escort the doctor to the parlor. "Follow me," he said, and lead the doctor to that room. The doctor took a seat, and Henry rang the bell.

A few seconds later, Mary showed up. "Yes, how can I help?" she said, sounding reflexive, before seeing Henry and Albertkin sitting there.

"Fetch Michael and Yamras," Henry told her.

"Of course," Mary nodded, "I'll make some tea after I do that."

"No need," the doctor corrected her, "I'll not be here, uh, very long."

"Alright," Mary noted, exiting the room.

Henry stood there, hoping this would finally result in some more information. He did want to find out exactly what had happened, for Mary's sake. She deserved to know exactly why her father died, after all.

"So you're the new, uh, butler?" the doctor suddenly asked.

"No," Henry explained, "I'm a hired guard."

"Hmmm, I thought Robert didn't, uh, like hiring guards after that, uh, thief," Albertkin said. While Henry was getting annoyed by the doctor's stutter, he did pick up on the reference. So that explained Williamkin's policy of not hiring guards to a degree. "It's odd that he would, uh, allow this now."

"Times change," Henry stated. He thought it best that he didn't inform the doctor that the councilman actually knew nothing about this. The doctor seemingly had nothing else to say, so Henry settled in to wait.

* * * * *

Leading Yamras and Michael into the parlor, Mary was feeling very nervous. She had recognized Doctor Albertkin instantly, and knew this matter was probably very serious.

"Let me, uh, begin," the doctor said slowly once everyone was seated. "My examination, determined that my earlier assessment was accurate, and that, uh, Patrick indeed died of an allergic reaction to the sleeping poison."

"What poison was it?" Henry asked, drawing everyone's gaze to him.

"That is the most interesting part," the doctor answered, "The poison used...does not match any, uh, poison that I am aware of. I researched several books, but I found, uh, nothing."

"Nothing at all?" Mary blurted out, startled. A poison no one had ever heard of? This was far stranger than anything she had ever heard.

"Patrick's daughter, right?" Albertkin asked, and Mary nodded. "Nothing. Except for this poison, Patrick was, uh, completely healthy. And since it was used on you, I determined it normally wouldn't harm most people. I suspect, uh, whoever applied the poison did not intend for any deaths to result."

Mary shook her head. Her father's death was a complete accident. By the Three Saints, it really wasn't fair in the least. Stop thinking like that, she reminded herself. Real life was not like a ballad, and it never would be.

The doctor began to stand up, "Well, if you will, uh, excuse me-"

"Wait, what about my father and mother?" Michael asked suddenly.

"Oh, uh, right," Albertkin sat back down, "They're currently in the care of one of my, uh, assistants. I think it was, uh, Byrna...yes, Byrna was the one."

"How soon until they can return?" Michael insisted.

"I'd say...uh, roughly three to four more days before your father is well enough," the doctor frowned, rising to his feet, "Your mother, while still ill, should be fine in your, uh, father's care."

Michael smiled, "Thank you."

"No problem," Doctor Albertkin said, "Good day." He exited the room, walking slowly and looking lost in thought.

* * * * *

To be honest, Henry had found the doctor's stutter infuriating, and was glad he was gone. Being able to speak plainly was important, and it bothered him to no end how someone who couldn't could actually be successful in any job.

"So, it was an accident," Yamras looked thoughtful, "I'm sorry, lass." He looked over at Mary comfortably, who looked sad.

"It's alright," Mary sighed, looking, of course, like it wasn't alright.

"If you say so," Yamras said, "But what kind of doctor couldn't identify the poison? Bah, I'm not sure that doctor is worth paying, given how much help he is."

Michael looked thoughtful, then brightened, "Why not ask Seluria to help? She's a herbalist, isn't she?"

Henry froze. "What...did you say?" he asked, feeling a sudden sense of dread.

"That she's a herbalist?" Michael looked confused.

"Mary," Henry raised his voice slightly. Mary turned, looking just as confused as Michael. "Bring Seluria here. Now."

"Alright," Mary said slowly, and left the room. Henry couldn't believe he hadn't seen before. Seluria's efforts to help Mary in whatever way she could, the poison being unrecognized by the doctor...it all made horrible, terrible sense. And he hadn't realized it...

"What's going on, lad?" Yamras asked suspiciously. Judging from his and Michael's expressions, neither of them had caught on.

"You'll see," Henry said. At last he had found out what had really happened...

* * * * *

Seluria followed Mary into the parlor. Mary wasn't certain what Henry wanted, but knew he was angry. Probably it was to ask her why she hadn't offered her help in figuring out about the poison. Still, Mary wished she could relieve Seluria, who looked slightly worried herself. The two took a seat, and Henry regarded the elven girl coldly.

"So you didn't tell us about being an herbalist," he finally said, "Do you have something else to tell us?" Mary blinked, not certain what Henry was getting at. What had he figured out?

Seluria grew pale. "I'm sorry," she said in a whisper that echoed through the room, "I...really am."

"Sorry for what?" Yamras looked over, frowning, "What did you do, lass?" Seluria looked down and said nothing.

"Look, I know she doesn't know much about how to act among...well, humans," Michael stood up, "But what, are you saying she's the one who..." His jaw sagged and he sat back down, looking horrified as he stared at Henry's cold expression.

"Exactly," Henry said tersely. Mary looked over at Seluria, who had began to weep quietly. What had she done?

"You still don't understand?" Henry turned to her, and Mary realized she'd said that last thought out loud.

"No," Mary glanced around, feeling completely lost.

"It's simple," Henry took a breath, "Seluria is the one who put the sleeping poison in the sugarcane powder."

* * * * *

Henry was prepared to tackle Mary, possibly expecting her to get furious at the revelation. However, she half-sat, half-collapsed into a nearby chair, murmuring. "What? No..." her voice sounded faint, barely audible even in the near silence of the parlor.

"Wait...lad, tell me you're joking," Yamras said, his face showing his disbelief, "You are joking...right?" He glanced around, his face reddening behind his beard, before fixating on Seluria. "Tell me he's joking!"

A small part of Henry had hoped that was the case, but Seluria's reaction had confirmed it. She had probably intended to leave when everyone was asleep, but apparently Williamkin hadn't taken the poison. And then the intruder had come in...it would have been easy for the elf to leave in the confusion, but she had saved the councilman's life.

Henry was about to explain when Seluria spoke up, "I...I did do it. I'm sorry."

"You..." Yamras looked down, clenching his fists. Henry readied himself again, this time expecting violence from the dwarf.

"I'm sorry," Seluria repeated. Henry noticed the elven girl was shaking.

"Sorry!" Yamras roared, "By the ancestors, I put my trust in you! The dwarven elders trusted you! Robert didn't want to take you in! By my beard, who do you think convinced him to do so! And then, you do something like this and expect to just be forgiven!" Seluria simply looked down in shame.

Let's go discuss this in the dining hall," Michael stated. Henry noted he sounded angry, but at least he was keeping a level head.

"Bah, fine," Yamras spat and left the room, and Michael followed. Henry looked back at Mary and Seluria, both sitting there sadly, before turning to head to the dining hall himself.

* * * * *

Mary forced herself up, despite feeling a deep sense of despair. She wasn't going to let this get to her again. Getting upset wouldn't help her, despite what had happened. For good or for ill, she had to deal with this problem.

Turning to Seluria, Mary saw she still sat there, quietly crying into her hands. She honestly did not know what to do. Part of her wanted to comfort the elf, tell her she had done nothing wrong...even though she had. Another part screamed to take out her frustrations on Seluria for what she had done. Inside Mary knew the latter wasn't right, but the former...

"Why did you do it?" Mary managed to ask quietly.

"I thought...I thought it was just the same," Seluria looked up tearfully.

"Huh?" Mary didn't understand.

"Back at home...everyone was just the same," Seluria said, letting out a shaky breath, "Everyone had their own plans, and...every day, I had to be careful, not knowing who might be planning to use me or my family or my clan...for anything they wanted." Mary stared in shock as the elven girl continued, "I hated it, but...there was nothing I could do about it."

Seluria paused a moment, then visibly summoning her determination, resumed her story, "After I...left, I preferred it. I had to survive on my own, and it was lonely, but I didn't have to worry about anyone else planning anything."

Mary was stunned...before by what she had found out about the elves, but now...how could someone grow up in a place like that? Even Henry, based on what he had told her, never had it that hard. If something like the poisoning of her father was everyday and ordinary to elves...the thought filled her with revulsion. She could barely imagine having to be that paranoid.

"I kept moving, ending up heading towards the sunset and farther away from the forests..." Seluria's voice trailed off, and she looked down. "But it got colder, and harder to find food, and then I got a little sick. So when I saw the caravan...I had no choice."

Mary shook her head sadly. While it sounded almost like something out of a ballad, her instinct told her that Seluria was telling the truth. It would explain everything that the girl had done.

"I told you before my punishment was to work for Robert," Seluria sighed, "But then when I got here, Robert didn't tell me anything to do...at first."

"And?" Mary asked, suddenly suspicious.

"A few days ago, Robert approached me and asked about making a trade deal." Seluria's expression hardened. "I knew then that he was just like the others...I was just part of his plan."

"But where did you get the sleeping poison? And why use it on us?" Mary insisted.

"I had it...to begin with. I made it when I was in the wilderness, and used it to catch animals with bait," Seluria explained, "I didn't...see any way to get out...Robert wouldn't have let me."

"He's a better person than that," Mary said, not really believing it herself, "If you had just talked to him about it, perhaps it would have worked out."

"I...don't know," the elven girl said, "I just...I just don't know what the heck I was supposed to do." The girl fell silent, and Mary couldn't think of anything to say to make the situation better...to Seluria or herself.

* * * * *

"Are you serious, lad?" Yamras looked on with disbelief, "That's the worst possible solution!"

"Nonetheless, my father is the one to make the final choice on what to do," Michael frowned, gazing at the dwarf, "Until then, Seluria can stay here."

"Bah, I still say it's foolish," he repeated to Michael, before turning to Henry. "What do you think about this?"

Henry shrugged. Honestly, he thought Michael had the right of it here. While it may have been an accident, the fact was that she had caused the death of someone. It would naturally make sense to let Councilman Williamkin make his own judgment, but that involved waiting. Yamras, it seemed, was not one to wait, unlike Henry.

"You'll just accept it like a sheep?" Yamras spat, than turned back to Michael, "I don't know what those books or your father taught you, but it's clear you don't know which end of a beard is up."

"Perhaps not," Michael responded coldly, "But in that case, it's better to leave the decision to my father, isn't it?"

"By the ancestors, you..." Yamras broke off, then stated, "You will regret this." The dwarf walked out of the dining hall, with the two standing there. For a moment, they both were silent.

"I hope...I made the right decision," Michael said quietly.

"I think so," Henry told him. While he wished Michael had made the decision himself - he wasn't certain Williamkin could be trusted - he understood that at the least the young man was acknowledging his own inexperience. Henry wished there were more people who were as intelligent.

* * * * *

"I wish I was...more like you," Seluria suddenly said.

"Huh?" Mary looked up from where she was sitting, startled by the statement, "Why?"

"You...you found a way to try and get what you wanted, and no one got hurt." Seluria explained, leaning over, "I...couldn't. I'm so stupid...you're a better person than me."

Mary looked at her, than let out a breath, "I wish I was."

"You are," the elven girl insisted.

"No," Mary stated flatly, "If I was, I would have been able to...I wouldn't have had to hide my relationship with Henry from everyone. And my father could have known..." she broke off, not certain where she was going with this.

"You wanted his approval?" Seluria asked.

"I...a part of me did," Mary had to admit, "but I didn't think I'd ever get it. And now..."

"I'm sorry," Seluria said again.

Mary felt bad, having not meant to blame her more. "No, you...you didn't know." Ultimately, she realized that she had to forgive Seluria. She couldn't bring herself to hate the elven girl, despite what she had done. Perhaps it was wrong of her, but she had made her decision. Just like she had made the decision, once, that a short and slightly gruff mercenary was actually worth getting to know. That had worked out well, and this one hopefully would too.

* * * * *

Henry followed Michael back into the parlor, where both Mary and Seluria were sitting quietly. He hoped they had worked out their problems, because that would make Michael's decision so much harder to work with.

"Seluria," Michael spoke up, drawing her gaze as well as Mary's, "While you did inadvertently cause our butler's death, you did save my father's life. Since he was the one who took you in, the final decision will be his." He paused; Henry guessed he was letting it sink in. "Until then, you can stay here."

"Thanks," Seluria said quietly, looking up at him stoically.

"I suggest you go to your room for now, and rest," Michael suggested. Seluria nodded, and silently left the room.

"I'm going to go, uh, read my books," Michael turned and also exited. Henry got the impression that he didn't want to think about what just happened. Hard to fault him, given the possible consequences if they had been mistaken.

Shaking his head, he turned to Mary. "Are you alright?"

"I think so," she said, frowning.

"What did Seluria tell you?" Henry was curious, wondering exactly what had happened.

"Basically, she planned to leave," Mary's shoulders slumped, "She didn't want anyone else to find out."

"I figured as much," Henry noted, pleased that he had been proven correct. Williiamkin had undoubtedly treated her poorly to some extent, resulting in this decision. He'd figure out the details later, but for now, he was more interested in how Mary was feeling. Henry walked over and hugged her, slightly awkward given that he was about the same height as her. He didn't quite understand why he felt that way though.

"So now what?" Mary asked, after a minute of just holding him.

"Go make food," Henry joked, "That always works."

"You..." Mary's face bore a slight grin, "I swear, I'd throw something at you if I could,"

"Good thing I'm holding on to you then," Henry commented.

Mary released him, and headed for the door. On the way out she called back, "Perhaps you'll learn not to bother the person who cooks your food!"
Henry chuckled, glad Mary appeared to be feeling good again. It was times like these, he thought, that made all the work he went through on their behalf completely worth it.

* * * * *

Chapter 8

* * * * *

Mary set the plate down in front of Seluria, and then took her seat at the dinner table. The absence of Yamras annoyed her, as she had been planning to cook something for the dwarf. Nonetheless, it seemed he could not keep his anger in check, and had stormed out...again. Like so much else, she hadn't known that he had that temper. There wasn't much that could be done about it now, though.

It was a shame though, as Mary had actually considered making Yamras' favorite dish - roast mutton \- for tonight. But since he wasn't here, she had just roasted some chicken by herself, without the help of...she couldn't help it, her thoughts drifted back to Seluria and what she had done one way or the other. Even if she tried dismissing it, it kept haunting her. Was she wrong to forgive such so easily?

Mary sighed and put the thought out of her mind. She really needed to focus on the task at hand. It was hard, but she would manage...somehow. Right now though, she needed to eat.

"Hey, Mary," Michael said through a mouthful of food, "Good meal."

"Shouldn't talk with a full mouth," Mary forced herself to say the normal thing, even though she didn't really feel normal.

Michael swallowed. "Alright," he replied, before turning to Seluria. "What do you think of it?"

"It's very good." Seluria said. Mary knew Michael was trying to cheer her up in his own way. It relieved her, in a way. The fact that Michael still cared was comforting.

"So, Seluria, what kind of foods do the elves eat?" Michael asked.

The elven girl frowned thoughtfully. "Mostly wild vegetables we gather, and roasted rabbit and deer, if I remember it right," she noted.

Michael made a face, "Venison tastes...bad"

"Venison?" Seluria asked curiously.

"Deer meat," Mary answered.

"Oh...no, it's very good," Seluria protested, "I don't understand why you wouldn't like it."

"Because I dislike the flavor," Michael replied nonchalantly and took another bite. Mary covered her face. Were these two really going to argue about food?

"Fine," Seluria remained calm, "Whatever suits you."

"Calm down," Henry told them, sounding stern. Mary hoped they would listen to him and just enjoy eating. Admittedly Michael seemed to be arguing the point more here.

Michael didn't. "Whatever suits me?" he said, "It's not like there's any spices you could put on venison to make it taste good anyway."

"We...don't use spices on our foods," Seluria stated. Mary had forgotten that she mentioned that before, but now she remembered why...and it made her think of the poison all over again. Forcing herself to not start thinking about that again, she turned her attention back to the conversation.

"Why not?" Michael looked confused.

"Because of poisons," Seluria glanced at Mary, "Any kind of powder could be poison, so we don't use them in food."

"Wait...what?" Michael blinked, then scowled, "That's insane. What kind of life is that?"

"I...I'll explain more after we eat," Seluria said slowly. Mary shook her head, and resumed eating.

* * * * *

Henry was actually slightly eager to hear Seluria's full explanation. He had gotten the rough details from Mary, but there was something clearly missing to the story. The bit about the poisons bothered him a little. Seluria must have been very desperate to resort to methods she seemingly hated. It was either that, or she had been lying all along.

The four walked into the parlor and, one by one, took their seats. Henry had to admit that he was becoming a bit too accustomed to the place - he knew that he wouldn't be here forever. It was likely that as soon as Councilman Williamkin returned, the job would end. At least he had finally taken the time to settle on his payment with Michael.

Seluria cleared her throat, and Henry focused on her. "I think I've told part of this," she began, "but never the whole story. I think you deserve it."

"Go on," Michael nodded.

"My clan, the Kalokan, thrived among the rest of the Ni'arth. While we weren't one of the Greater Clans, we were pretty well off."

"Greater Clans?" Michael asked.

"Oh, right, I didn't tell you," Seluria looked slightly embarrassed, "The five Greater Clans rule over all the other clans. They are the largest and most powerful of all the clans."

"Alright, go on." Michael paused to write something down. Henry was both amused and annoyed that he had brought pen and paper here with him.

"Like all clans, we always sought to improve our...status." Seluria closed her eyes, obviously bothered by the memories, "It didn't matter who or what got hurt...as long as your clan advanced, and it couldn't be blamed on you or anyone in it."

* * * * *

Mary shook her head in disgust. What kind of life was that? It sounded somewhat like some of the stories Henry had told her of a few people he'd met...but an entire society? Mary doubted she could possibly have put up with that. Looking over at Henry, she saw he was frowning deeply. Clearly, he was not happy with this as well.

"I grew up being taught how to do that sort of thing," Seluria let out a shaky breath, "I never really liked it, but...I didn't know anything else I could do."

"Run away?" Michael supplied, shooting a brief glance at Mary. If that look meant what she thought, Mary definitely was going to give Michael a long talk after this.

Seluria shook her head, "There was nowhere to go. Our land spanned many leagues-"

"Leagues?" Michael interrupted with another question.

"Let her finish," Henry told him sternly.

"Sorry," Michael said.

"It spanned many leagues," Seluria repeated, "So there was nowhere I could go that wasn't elven lands. And going to human lands would have been out of the question."

"Why?" Mary blurted out. Her face grew hot; she hadn't meant to interrupt Seluria yet again.

"While we had not encountered humans in hundreds of years, they were - according to our tales - the reason we had come to this forest. They were...our enemies." Seluria paused, looking around the room, as if to see their reactions. Mary herself was not surprised...this made sense with what she knew, in a strange way.

"I myself didn't really think much of the stories, since no one had ever seen a human," Seluria continued, "So I was chosen to be an herbalist, and I figured that was how I would spend my life." She took a deep breath. "Then...he came."

"A human?" Michael asked.

"Yes," Seluria looked down as she kept talking, "It was...my brother who found him, and brought him before the clan assembly to decide what to do. After some debate, they agreed to hear what this man wanted to say."

"What was his name?" Henry quietly said.

"I don't remember," Seluria admitted, "He did say he was from a place called Torthrus, and that he was willing to offer us some goods if we did the same. He showed us a knife made of metal - at the time, I had no idea what that was."

"What, the elves don't know how to work metal?" Michael spoke jokingly, and then the smile fell off his face as he looked around. Mary was annoyed by his lack of seriousness, given the situation.

"No, all of our tools and weapons were made of stone and wood," Seluria noted, "From what I've seen, most of them are very similar to the ones you use, so I had no trouble understanding them."

* * * * *

"Back to the story," Henry stated, not wanting this to go off on a side tale about wooden swords or something ridiculous like that.

"Sorry," Seluria said, "The human was allowed to leave, and told us something about waiting on our decision...I didn't understand the details."

"And the decision?" Michael sounded insistent. Henry was beginning to get perturbed with how many questions he was asking. This tale was ending up taking longer to be told than it needed to.

"It was debated for several hours," the elf explained, "I wasn't part of the debate...I never liked the assemblies anyway. But when it was over, the decision was...to not trade with Torthrus."

Henry wasn't surprised. Like many people, the elves clung to traditional behavior, regardless of how it might benefit them. While it was preferable to stick to your principles, he knew sometimes you just had to make changes. If he hadn't been able to do so, Henry knew, he wouldn't be here now.

"In the end, though, it didn't make any difference," Seluria's voice grew bitter, "Apparently one of the Greater Clans found out about it, and called the head of the clan - my uncle - to face their judgment."

Michael swallowed audibly, and Mary looked pale. Henry didn't quite understand them getting upset...this was something that had already happened. Better to save their worries for the future. He wasn't about to reprimand them though...there had been enough interruptions already.

"I don't know exactly what was said at that meeting," Seluria closed her eyes briefly, "But the result was that our clan was declared enemies of the Ni'arth."

"And that means?" Michael's frown deepened.

"That any member of the clan...was to be killed on sight." Seluria slumped down, obviously pained by this. "It had been done to a few lone elves, or a few wild beasts that attacked us. But I'd never heard of it being done to an entire clan before....until this." Everyone, including Henry, was silent, waiting for the elven girl to continue the tale.

* * * * *

Mary listened intently as Seluria resumed her story. "We didn't learn of the decision until the warriors and hunters...from all the Greater Clans, and many of the others...appeared at our clan village." The girl clenched her teeth in what seemed to be a mix of frustration and sorrow, "There was nothing we could do but run...as they...killed everyone..."

Seluria leaned over, unable to continue. Mary got up and moved over to her, murmuring, "It's alright." Right now, she knew how painful it was. Just thinking about her mother saddened Mary, and that was just one person compared to what surely was dozens that Seluria had known.

"Mary, take her to her room please," Michael said, voice tense. Mary didn't have to be told twice. She lifted the elven girl up on her shoulder and half-carried her out of the parlor. As she exited, she wondered if Seluria's past could possibly be worse. Of course, now that she had thought about that...it probably was.

* * * * *

Henry looked up as Mary reentered the parlor. Michael had been silent the whole time she had been gone, looking very thoughtful. Henry, of course, was more concerned over what Mary had told him Williamkin had said. He wasn't certain it was the best idea to tell Michael about it, but...it had to be said as some point.

"How's she doing?" Michael asked.

"Alright, I think," Mary said dubiously, "She was still upset, but more tired than anything else."

"So, I guess we get to wait to hear the rest of the story?" Michael sighed.

"I think...I know most of the rest," Mary sighed. Henry nodded, looking her in the eye. Her expression told him she got the message, and would tell the rest of the story.

"So...what happened?" Michael's impatience showed.

"Apparently...she survived on her own in wilderness for a while," Mary said slowly, "I think she didn't like it, but thought it was better than living with the elves. But then she became ill...and she found the caravan."

"And Henry was guarding that caravan...which is how Yamras knew about him," Michael noted, "But why poison the sugarcane?"

"Councilman Williamkin attempted to make a trade deal with her," Henry stated flatly. No sense in side-stepping around the main issue any longer.

"What?" Michael gaped, then scowled, "By the Three Saints, how could he?"

"He couldn't have known," Mary shook her head, "We didn't know either."

Michael just stood there for a moment, clenching his fists. Finally, he whispered hoarsely, "How...how could my father act like that?"

Mary walked up and gently patted Michael on the shoulder. "I don't know," she spoke in a soothing tone. Henry himself did know, but said nothing. It was just another case of the disregard the councilmen had for the affairs of anyone but themselves. He suspected Mary understood this too, but now was admittedly not the best time to bring that up.

"I'm...going to my room," Michael said, and turned towards the door.

Henry didn't care, because there really was anything left to say...wait a second, he told himself. Damn it, he had forgotten something. "Wait," Henry spoke, making Michael stop.

"What is it?" he answered Henry, voice strained.

"It seems that Brother Adamkin is desperate to meet with Seluria," Henry explained, "I meant to tell Yamras, but..." He let his voice trail off, certain that was all he needed to say.

Michael looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded, "I see no problems with it."

"Huh?" Mary blurted out confusedly.

"You don't have any problems with this?" Henry asked, beginning to suspect that this wasn't a good idea.

"As long as we control the details of the meeting, there shouldn't be a problem, right?" Michael crossed his arms. That did make sense to Henry. In fact, the more the thought about it, the more he liked it. There wasn't really a better way to judge what Adamkin really wanted, and if he posed any threat...Henry could easily deal with that.

"Alright then, we can-" Henry began.

"No," Mary cut him off.

* * * * *

"Why not?" Michael asked, looking rather puzzled.

Mary wondered herself why she had spoken out. It wasn't typical of her to oppose the decisions Robert made, and she should do the same despite the fact that he wasn't here. Still, a sense of certainty told her she was doing the right thing.

"Seluria...she should be the one to decide," Mary stated, sounding far more confident than she felt.

"I don't think that she has-" Michael started to argue.

"Wait," Henry interrupted Michael, in a manner similar to how Mary had just interrupted him. "She's right. Seluria should decide."

"I don't get it," Michael frowned.

"Do you want to be poisoned again?" Henry stated. Mary wasn't certain where Henry was going with this, but as long as he was arguing her point, it worked.

Michael paled, "I get the point. Doing something involving her without asking...no, I definitely won't make that mistake." He shrugged, "I guess I can ask her tomorrow morning. Now, if you'll excuse me..." He left the room.

Mary and Henry stood there for a minute. "Guess I'd better go get some sleep," Mary yawned, feeling tired.

"Get some rest," Henry said gently. Mary nodded and headed for her room. Along the way, she wondered if all the heroines of the ballads possibly had it this hard. Probably not, she decided as she opened her door and went in.

* * * * *

The dining hall was quiet the next morning as Henry sat down. Seluria had not yet come in, and Michael and Mary were quietly eating. Sighing, he began to eat his flatcakes. To be fair, he preferred dried bacon in the morning, but he knew better than to denigrate Mary's cooking. After all, it was usually better than what he normally had to eat - the food at the tavern excepted, of course.

The door creaked, surprisingly loudly, as Seluria entered the room. She looked around sadly, and wordlessly took a seat.

Michael swallowed, than spoke, "Seluria." She looked up, uncertainty visible on her face. "I know I can't speak for my father...but for everything you went through...you have my apologies."

"Thank you," Seluria murmured, so faintly Henry barely heard it. While normally he would have suspected that statement as being trite, a look at Michael's face convinced him that the young man was being sincere.

"That said, I have a question," Michael continued.

"What?" Seluria said abruptly.

"Brother Adamkin...a member of the Church of the Three Saints...wants to meet with you." Michael explained. "As he already knows about you," Michael shot Mary a look that Henry did not miss, "I don't see any harm in it...but the decision is yours."

"Very well," Seluria answered instantly.

"You don't have any objections?" Michael looked surprised. Henry himself admitted he had not expected such a prompt answer.

"If I did, would it matter?" Seluria's voice grew bitter.

"The whole point is for you to have a choice," Mary burst out, suddenly standing up. Henry could see she was angered by Seluria's response. "I thought you wanted that!" She closed her eyes, suddenly looking very tired. "I'm sorry," Mary said, "I just..."

"No...you're right." Seluria replied softly. An idle thought crossed Henry's mind, making him wonder if this would turn into a contest to see who could apologize the most. And he had thought Mary had gotten better about that...

* * * * *

Mary sighed and sat back down. She really needed to not lose control like that. It hadn't been an issue before she had met Henry, but she supposed that was the price she paid for knowing someone like him. It was worth it in the end; at least, she hoped it was.

"So," Michael spoke, looking warily back and forth between Mary and the elven girl, "what shall we do about Brother Adamkin?"

"I guess I could speak with him...it couldn't make things any worse," Seluria looked down, "Besides, more information wouldn't be a bad thing." The girl stretched, relaxing slightly. "I would like to know more about what the heck is going on, after all."

"Alright," Michael nodded, "I'll send Mary over to the church to bring Adamkin here later. For now, I'd like to finish these flatcakes." He promptly sat down, and started eating again.

Mary resumed eating herself, although she was still worried. She wasn't entirely certain that Brother Adamkin could be trusted. But ultimately they had to trust in Seluria's choice, and Henry's ability to react. Of the latter, Mary had no doubt whatsoever. Any problems or issues that arose, Henry would be prepared to deal with, no matter what it took. That was the kind of person he was.

Seluria was a different matter. While no one of such a young age should have to make choices like these, there really wasn't another option. Mary knew herself that she had not been knowledgeable enough to make such decisions at that age. In fact, she wasn't certain she was that capable now. But they needed answers, and soon. Robert's life might very well depend on it.

Thinking about it, another possibility struck her. If Robert returned in a few days and disapproved of what Seluria had done...Mary didn't know what would happen next, or even what she would do. Making up her mind, she decided to ask Henry about it in private. He probably, of course, had this whole thing planned out. It was one of his best talents, naturally.

* * * * *

Henry wasn't certain how to plan for what was going to happen. Adamkin most likely would not be capable of seriously using a weapon, but he had to be ready for that. Even though they had control for the most part, there was no telling what the brother was capable of.

At first, he had thought it a bit odd that Mary was supposed to be the one going to talk to Adamkin, but then he realized that it made perfect sense. Considering that the word was out that he was working here, him going would draw far too much attention. Mary, in this case, was the much more covert option. This was mildly amusing, given that she wasn't exactly the most discreet person - no matter what she said about it.

Walking into the parlor, Henry saw that Seluria and Michael were already there, Michael reading a book while the elf sat silently. They had eaten more rapidly than him, and had gotten here first. Idly, Henry wondered if Michael actually had anything to do other than just sit in his room and read, or come here. Although it might have something to do with Councilman Williamkin's absence, but Henry suspected that wasn't it.

"So, what do you plan to do for the death rites?" Seluria asked, making Michael look up. Henry looked over too, wondering what this was about.

"Death rites?" Michael frowned, "Like...a funeral?"

"I don't know what the heck a funeral is," Seluria shrugged, "But if that's the same as death rites, yes, for...Mary's father." She looked down, obviously still ashamed despite the reassurances of Mary.

"We haven't held funerals since the Plague," Michael explained.

"Plague?" Seluria said, "What plague?" Henry was mildly surprised that she had no idea about it. He guess it proved that they hadn't been affected.

"You didn't know?" Michael sounded put off.

"No," Seluria shook her head, "What happened?"

"About a hundred and ten years ago," Michael spread his hands as he leaned forward, "the Plague broke out in the lands to the south, among the great kingdoms there. It was devastating, and many of the people there died as those kingdoms collapsed."

"That's...bad," Seluria was clearly at a loss for words.

"The Northlands, for some reason, was not as badly affected," Michael continued, "Some accounts said, as silly as it sounds, that a sorcerer was responsible. But many survived, and they were joined by refugees from the south."

"Fleeing the plague, I guess," Seluria noted. Henry stifled a yawn. He knew this story as well as he knew the inside of his house.

"Correct," Michael noted, "Although I don't think I've actually ever met someone from the south, or descended from those refugees...most of them aren't very wealthy."

Henry cleared his throat, "You've met one."

"Who?" Michael looked up confusedly. Henry just stared at him, and recognition dawned. "Oh," Michael said sheepishly, "I didn't know you were Southern...you don't really look like it."

"No problem," Henry nodded, not really surprised. From his experience, a lot of people had not been able to tell that by looking at him. Michael was no exception in this case.

* * * * *

Mary exited the house with a sigh. This was...what was that expression Seluria kept using? This was a heck of a lot better than having to wash dishes, that was it. She wasn't certain exactly what the word "heck" meant, but, as odd as it seemed, she liked how it sounded.

She shook her head, realizing she had gotten lost in thought again...and before she had even taken two steps. It was a bad habit of hers, and she really needed to stop it. No, she would have to worry about that later. For now, Mary had to get to the church and inform Brother Adamkin of their decision to see him.

She hurried down the street, noting there were not many people out today. Looking up, she saw the reason why. Clouds were covering most of the sky, blocking out the sun. Knowing this would likely mean snow later today or tonight, Mary quickened her pace. She definitely did not want to get caught in the winter weather.

* * * * *

"So you're...a Southerner?" Seluria's question was hardly surprising, given that Michael hadn't discussed that information before returning to his room. Henry was beginning to suspect he was writing down everything he learned from the elven girl. It was getting bothersome, having him run back and forth through the house. It made it quite difficult to ensure Michael's safety.

But that problem could wait. "Correct," Henry said, guessing Seluria was about to ask some more questions about it.

"What's the difference between Southerners...and, uh, other people?" Seluria asked, just as he had predicted. However, Henry was surprised to find he didn't have a ready answer. He'd never really seen that much of a difference in how people acted or spoke, including himself. Of course, the fact that his parents had abandoned him might have something to do with it.

"Not much, really," Henry shrugged, not knowing how else to phrase it, "People make a bigger deal out of it than it really is."

* * * * *

"How can I help you?" Sister Abagailkin asked Mary.

"I'm here to speak to Brother Adamkin," Mary explained, peering inside the church. She thought she heard children speaking, which struck her as unusual.

"Just a moment," Abagailkin ducked back inside the building. Mary decided not to follow. She wasn't in the mood to pry into what was going on. She just wanted to get Adamkin and get back to the house before the weather turned foul.

A moment later, Adamkin walked out. "Yes?" he asked pleasantly, recognition in his eyes.

Mary swallowed and said, "I'd like to tell you that you can come and speak with our guest." Henry had specifically instructed her to be very cautious when talking to Adamkin.

"Ah, excellent," Adamkin smiled, "When will be the time?"

"Uh...now," Mary was not exactly happy about the idea. Then again, Henry had told her they didn't want to give him time to set something up in advance, should the brother prove problematic. It was hard to find fault with that logic.

"Really?" Adamkin looked reluctant, "I suppose..." He ducked back into the church, and Mary heard him call out, "Sister, can you take over the lesson? Something urgent has come up." He came back out, sighing. "Let's go."

"Lesson?" Mary asked as they begin to walk.

"Curious, aren't you?" Brother Adamkin chuckled, "It's lessons on how to read and write, for some of the children of Amestraton."

Mary nodded, understanding and impressed. She knew not everyone got the opportunity to learn those things. Henry had said that, unlike him, most mercenaries couldn't do that sort of thing. The idea that the Church of the Three Saints was actually doing something to correct for that was comforting.

She just hoped that Adamkin really had good intentions. Mary didn't want there to be any more problems with Seluria...or in general, really.

* * * * *

Henry nodded as Mary walked into the parlor, followed by the brown-robed figure of Adamkin. Michael had returned, and he and Seluria sat both grim faced. Seluria in particular looked nervous, something Henry thought she should get over soon. If Adamkin gave any trouble, he would be quickly and forcibly be removed from the house.

"So you are the elf," Adamkin said, taking a seat. Henry noticed he didn't seem overly surprised by the mercenary's presence. "My name is Philip Adamkin. It...is an honor to meet you in person."

"I'm Seluria Ni'teralsan Na'uldrini Kalokan, and it's a pleasure to meet you too," Seluria said. Henry guessed that was what passed for elven formality.

"Alright then," Adamkin pressed his hands together, "Before I begin, I admit I have a bit of a confession to make."

"What?" Seluria asked, leaning forward.

"Not to you," the brother explained, "To him." He gestured at Henry.

"Go on," Henry said calmly.

"I'm certain by now you're curious about why I approached you, of all mercenaries, to contact Seluria?" Henry saw immediately where this was going and nodded. Mary paled slightly, indicating to him that she understood as well.

"As it turns out, when I approached you regarding contacting Seluria," Adamkin nodded at Henry, "it was not chance that I chose you. I had learned about your relationship from a friend."

"Who was it?" Mary suddenly asked. Henry shot her a glance, a bit annoyed at the interruption. However, it had been basically what he had planned to ask, so he might as well go with it.

"I'm not about to betray my confidences," Adamkin said, "Just as I expect none of you would in regard to yours." Henry nodded, understanding where Adamkin was coming from. He certainly wouldn't betray that kind of trust, and clearly the brother was smart enough not to either.

* * * * *

"But back to the subject at hand," Adamkin looked back at Seluria. Seluria shrunk down slightly before it, and Mary was glad that look wasn't turned her way. "I have come to give you a warning."

"A warning?" Seluria asked, looking confused.

"Indeed," Adamkin glanced around at all of the people present. "What I'm about to say is a bit of an unofficial secret of the church, but I think it won't be a problem if I tell you."

Mary looked around. Michael and Henry were both nodding their approval, and Seluria's face was neutral as she told Adamkin, "Go on."

"The church has traditionally been divided on the issue of whether the elves should return, and what should be done when they do," Adamkin frowned, "I, personally, was one of the ones that had felt that they would never come back...at least until I saw you that evening."

"And this means?" Seluria sounded uncertain to Mary, despite what she was saying.

"The official church policy, created possibly as an attempt to mend the divide, was to declare that should an elf be found, that it should be arranged for them to be in sole custody of the church," Adamkin shook his head, "This, of course, has led to another divide...between those who support this policy and those who oppose it."

"And which are you?" Seluria asked, gazing intently at Adamkin.

"As I said, I wasn't really on one of those sides," Adamkin explained, "I thought it wouldn't ever come to that, but I wanted to ask you what you thought of it."

"I wouldn't agree, of course," Seluria declared, narrowing her eyes.

"I'm not surpised," the brother replied, "But the attack on Councilman Williamkin changes things a bit."

* * * * *

"How so?" Seluria asked. Henry understood now that there was far more to Brother Adamkin than a simple member of the church.

"As it stands, the other members of the church in Amestraton - particularly Mother Bettikin herself - are in favor of this policy," Adamkin leaned back, brown robe shifting, "If they knew about you, they would likely go to great lengths to get you into the church."

"It sounds like you are opposed to the policy after all," Seluria noted.

"I suppose...I am," Adamkin said, "But I am a bit aware of the intentions of the other councilmen of Amestraton, and I'm more worried about what they might do if they learned an elf was here."

"You think one of them might be behind the attack?" Henry asked, suddenly very interested.

"It's a possibility," Brother Adamkin shrugged, "I've been here long enough to learn that the councilmen would love complete control over one or both of the major guilds, so...that might be part of it."

Henry had suspected that the councilmen were probably not exactly content with how much power the guilds held over them; this confirmed it. Considering that the council itself got to choose new councilmen, that would mean...so that was why Williamkin had been chosen. Still, if he was willing to comply with their policies, as Henry had seen, why would they try to hurt him? It didn't make any sense to him, leading Henry to conclude that there was more to it than this.

"At any rate," Adamkin continued, "It might be better for you, in the long run, to have the protection of the church. Although I can't guarantee what they will do, it is probably the best option."

"And if I don't?" Seluria pointed out, frowning.

"It's your decision," the brother told her, "I am willing to wait, and will continue to conceal your existence from them." He stood up and headed for the door. As he reached it, Adamkin turned back and said, "If you wait too long, the choice will be made for you. Good day."

* * * * *

Mary stood there, staring at the door, startled. Both the sudden exit and Adamkin's parting words left her unnerved and confused. She'd never even thought of actually getting involved with the politics of the city council. The thought of the fact that they might be trying to kill Robert...scared her.

A thousand wishes crossed her mind at that moment. If only she had been able to move out with Henry sooner, if only her father had never worked for Robert to begin with...anything to prevent this. If this was what daily life was like for Seluria, Mary understood exactly why she would go to any extreme to get out of it.

For that matter, Robert himself had to face this every day as well. Perhaps she had failed to understand how that weighed on his decisions. It was a disturbing thought, that this sort of thing had been going on, and she had paid it no heed in pursuit of her own goals. Really, she was no better than her father, not paying attention to other people's problems.

"It really isn't any different here, is it?" Seluria asked quietly.

"Not exactly," Henry frowned, "I'd say most people don't have to worry about this sort of thing." Mary knew him well enough to read the unspoken message: that he was grateful he didn't normally either.

"I see," Seluria said. Mary noted she hadn't heard that phrase in a while. Once again, she found herself doubting how much the elven girl really understood.

"Well, I see my father is now really in it," Michael slowly rose to his feet, "I'm don't know how he could possibly handle this."

Mary sadly agreed with that statement, doubting there was anything else that anyone could possibly do in this situation. Henry shrugged, the motion drawing Mary's gaze. It seemed he was just as lost as the rest of them.

* * * * *

What had he gotten himself into? Henry was certain that this job had turned far more complex and dangerous than even he could have ever foreseen. Too late to do anything about it now, he told himself as they left the parlor, but he admitted the odds were probably very much against them.

If the city council really was targeting Williamkin as part of some plan, it meant they no longer wanted him on the council, and had a replacement likely lined up. But who could they possibly count on to replace him? That was the mystery, but that wasn't a concern. For now, Henry would just have to keep them safe until the councilman's injury was healed enough to return.

And when he did return, Henry had no intention of leaving Mary behind. His money aside, it would simply be far too dangerous for her to keep working here. If necessary, he could make a few adjustments, possibly call in some favors, if he really needed the extra worthings. But he wasn't going to put her in jeopardy any more.

He'd have to bring this up with her later, in private. Henry had no doubts that he'd be able to convince Mary. For now, all he could do was continue to do this job...and then he would be finished with this whole business, and could move on.

* * * * *

Mary nodded as she entered Michael's room. He had asked her to bring him tea, something he didn't normally do. Then again, she was fairly certain this situation hardly qualified as normal by any sense of the word. Between the possibility of the councilmen having their own agenda, and the church also, Mary was extremely worried.

"Here's your tea," she said, setting the tray down on Michael's desk. Michael, laying on the bed and looking at another of his books, didn't respond. Mary turned to leave.

"Wait," Michael said from behind her. Mary turned to see him, noting he looked weary. "What would you think if...I decided to tell my father I refuse to become a merchant?"

"Huh?" Mary asked, caught off guard by the question.

"I don't know how he got into this position with the council, but...I don't want to have to deal with that," Michael's voice was low and serious.

"But...you won't have to be on the Amestraton council," Mary protested, frowning. She didn't know where he had gotten this idea.

"That's how it will turn out," Michael stated, scowling, "As you know, as soon as my father retires, I'll become head of the guild. And then the council-"

"Head of the guild?" Mary was stunned. Was that really what Robert had planned all along? She had just thought that he had wanted Michael to become another merchant, not head of the entire guild.

"You didn't know?" Michael drew back, surprised.

"No," Mary admitted, "I didn't."

* * * * *

Henry stood in the front hall, thinking hard. He still wasn't certain exactly how he would convince Mary to leave her. It was the only home she had ever known, and he wouldn't be able to fault her if she wanted to stay. It would be the same as asking him to live somewhere other than Amestraton. That was highly unlikely to occur.

A door creaked as Seluria walked into the hall, looking thoughtful. "Can...can I talk to you?" she asked quietly.

"Go ahead," Henry told the elf, curious as to what this was about.

"There's one thing I don't understand," Seluria paused, expression uncertain, then continued, "Why weren't you angry over the death of Mary's father? I thought you...would be a heck of a lot more angry about it, but you haven't brought it up."

Was that all it was? Henry mentally laughed, then looked Seluria in the eye and said, "Why would I be angry?"

"But...Mary's father is dead, because of...what I did," Seluria looked down. Henry sighed, wondering how long she was going to keep feeling upset over the whole thing. "If I hadn't been here...he would still be alive."

"Wrong," Henry stated flatly.

"What?" Seluria looked up, startled.

"If you hadn't been here," Henry explained, "the intruder would have killed Councilman Williamkin...and then everyone else in this house, to ensure there were no witnesses."

"You're saying...I saved everyone's life...and that Mary's father was going to die no matter what?" Seluria gaped at him, completely astonished.

"Exactly," Henry knew it was a harsh fact, but the world was made of harsh facts. Most people couldn't deal with such things, but Henry was ceonfident that there was more to Seluria than that, given what she'd already been through. It made her all the more impressive of a person.

* * * * *

"...and I still don't understand how my father - and yours - could have not noticed you were sneaking out," Michael frowned, "Perhaps they aren't the best as seeing reality."

Mary shook her head. Michael had been rambling for some time now about the many flaws of his father, supposed or real. She knew better than to interrupt him when he was going on like this. It tended to make him angry when he was, something she had learned the hard way.

"I guess I've kept you too long," Michael suddenly admitted, abruptly changing the subject, "You'd better go start dinner."

Mary nodded, and exited. She wouldn't deny that she was glad she didn't have to listen to him go on and on. Usually it was about some piece of information from one or more of his books. Michael tended to find those books extremely fascinating. While Mary was interested in history, it was nothing compared to Michael's near-obsession with such a subject.

However, she'd never heard him really act this way about his father. It worried Mary, knowing as she did that he would return soon. When Robert did come back, she wasn't certain she wanted to be around when that confrontation took place.

* * * * *

"So, most mercenaries are Southerners?" Seluria asked.

"Correct," answered Henry, beginning to get tired of the questions. It was almost a requirement to be a mercenary in Amestraton. There were very few exceptions to this rule...Erik being the only one Henry personally knew.

"But why is that?" the elf frowned.

"It's...complicated," Mary walked into the hall, looking slightly pale. Henry didn't quite understand how she could still be upset about the situation - there was nothing that could be done now.

"I've got time for you to explain," Seluria said dryly, "In case you didn't notice, I'm not going anywhere." Great, Henry thought to himself. Bitter sarcasm makes everything better.

"Why don't you come with me to the kitchen, and I'll explain there," Mary told Seluria, glancing at Henry. Apparently she had figured out Henry was getting irritated, something for which he was grateful. Besides, Mary probably could answer those questions better than he could.

"Okay," Seluria nodded, and followed Mary out of the front hall. It was a pity he hadn't gotten to bring up the issue of the future after this job, but then again it was probably best that no one else be present when they discussed it. Henry wasn't certain he could count on Seluria not to tell Michael anything she heard.

Back to standing guard for him, he thought tiredly. Honestly, this would be one of the most boring jobs he'd ever taken, if it weren't for Mary...and Seluria. That admission surprised him, but he did, when it came down to it, actually like the elven girl. He hadn't realized it until now, but he did respect her, despite (or perhaps, he admitted, because of) the fact that she was an elf.

At this point though, this made his choice harder. Ultimately, Seluria would have to look out for herself, just as she had done before. Guaranteeing Mary's safety took priority, after all.

* * * * *

"Before the Plague, the Northlands didn't have access to the machines that were commonly available in the southern lands," Mary explained as she gathered the ingredients for dinner. She was pleased to find how readily she remembered the information from those books, even though it had been months - years, even - since she had read them.

"Why not?" Seluria leaned against the wall next to the kitchen door.

"I think it had to do with the machines not working well in colder weather," Mary said, pausing for a moment to recall the reasons, "Also, the Northlands and the people who lived there were...not viewed well by the residents of the kingdoms of the south."

"And then the Plague hit, and so you had the refugees," Seluria nodded, "But what happened next?"

"Well, the Southerners didn't really have a lot of choice in what jobs they got," Mary pointed out. She began mixing some spices in a bowl. "In addition, plenty of people in the Northlands were still bitter over how they had been treated in the past, so they took it out on the refugees."

"So they got stuck with jobs like being mercenaries?" Seluria sighed, "Okay, I guess that makes sense. Is that all there is to it?"

"As far as I know," Mary said, hoping she hadn't forgotten anything. It wasn't easy, trying to remember what she had read in the books she had borrowed from Michael over the years.

"So, do you need any help cooking?" Seluria asked. Mary frowned, uncertain on whether she should let the girl help her. Although she thought that she could trust Seluria, a part of her was still hesitant about the whole affair.

Mary sighed, remembering what she had told Henry and Michael earlier. She had convinced them to give the elven girl a chance. There was no reason she couldn't do so herself. She just hoped that it wasn't a mistake. "Alright," she said to Seluria.

* * * * *

Henry walked into the dining hall, ready to eat. It was actually good to eat food like the kind Mary cooked on a more regular basis. He mentally reminded himself that the food would not be nearly as good once this job ended. A pity, but he just couldn't afford the expensive ingredients that were paid for by Councilman Williamkin.

However, he did miss his house, as small and humble as it was. Henry mentally groaned, realizing his thinking was becoming increasingly colored in favor of this house. He had to stop thinking like that. This was a gilded trap, and time was growing short. Fortunately, Williamkin should return soon, he reminded himself again.

It bothered him slightly that there hadn't been much word, but Henry put that concern aside. After all, he didn't know the methods of this particular doctor, so that could readily explain it. If something else did come up, he could handle that problem when it came.

"So, did you think I did a good job?" Seluria asked, looking over at Mary, who was taking a bite of the food. Apparently Mary had decided to let the elf help her cook. Henry wasn't certain he agreed with that choice. Then again, given how Mary had spoken up for Seluria before, he shouldn't be too terribly surprised. That was just the sort of person Mary was.

"Yes, it's good," Mary swallowed before speaking.

"Perhaps Seluria should be our cook," Michael joked, "She might be better at it than you."

"Nope, I wouldn't," Seluria quickly said.

"Not a chance," Mary spoke at the same time. The two looked at each other, and then burst out laughing. Henry smirked, himself amused by their response.

"If you two say so," Michael chuckled, before swallowing another bite of the cheesed potatoes being served.

* * * * *

Mary sat back with a contented sigh as Michael and Seluria left the dining hall. Good food and good company, those were what made the finer things in life. It was a pity they wouldn't last, but she had known from the moment she had chosen to be with Henry that it would be that way. It would be worth it in the end.

She stood up and began to gather the plates. "Wait," Henry said from across the table, "We need to talk."

"About what?" Mary asked. Whatever it was, Henry clearly didn't want Michael or Seluria hearing whatever he had to say, since he had waited for them to leave before speaking up.

"After this job," Henry stated, "It's best if we go ahead with the plan."

"You mean," Mary spoke slowly, feeling a chill, "you want me to move in with you right away?"

"Correct," Henry said.

"Why?" Mary was completely confused now, " I thought you wouldn't have the money?"

Henry looked hesitant, which worried Mary. "I can probably come up with something," he explained, "However, it's too risky for you to stay here."

So this was about what Adamkin had told them. Mary had managed to put it out of her mind, but it came back to her now. And if Henry was worried...she was suddenly very frightened. "Henry...what do you think is going to happen?" she whispered.

"I don't know," he told her, stepping forward and embracing her. Mary returned the gesture, gradually feeling much better as she stood there and held him. While she knew that whatever happened next might be bad, it would make the happiness they would earn together so much better.

* * * * *

Henry let go of Mary. "Well?" he asked slowly.

"Alright," Mary frowned, "If that's the best choice...then I'll take it."

Henry nodded and looked at her steadily. It still amazed him how much Mary had come to mean to him. While Henry had met some impressive women in his life, none could compare to her. He shook his head, realizing how ridiculous he sounded right now.

Mary noticed the gesture. "What is it?" she asked, a faint smile on her face.

"Just thinking," Henry stated.

"Thinking of what?" Mary insisted, stepping forward.

"You," Henry stated with a small smile.

Mary smiled widely back and nodded, eyes gleaming. "I know," she said. She drew back, and looked over at the table, "Well, I need to get to work."

Henry nodded and headed for the door. He himself needed to return to protecting this house and those who lived here - Mary most of all.

* * * * *

Entering her room, Mary let out a breath and lay down on the bed. She had barely paid attention while she had been washing dishes, forcing her to redo some of them. That was what she got for forgetting the soap.

At the moment though, she was more focused on what Henry was planning. She didn't want to leave Seluria or Michael to face the dangers that lay ahead, but what else could she do? It was pretty clear that Henry would never agree to continue to stay here, and she wasn't sure she wanted to be here either. But leaving meant leaving others to suffer...

But there didn't seem to be much choice. Based on what Adamkin said, it wasn't a question of if there would be more attempts on Robert's life. It was only a matter of time. Mary knew it was logical for her to want out. She hadn't chosen to be a part of this to begin with. She didn't want to be caught in the middle of such a situation.

Mary turned over on her bed. She knew what she would do - the choice was clear - and yet it still hurt, knowing that other people would end up having to deal with this. There was nothing she could do though, and she'd just have to accept that fact.

She sighed, and got up to put on some nightclothes. She really ought to get some sleep for tomorrow. After all, Robert could back as soon as then, and she had to be prepared for what would result. One way or the other, it would be settled soon.

* * * * *

Chapter 9

* * * * *

Mary turned and looked on in horror at the corpses of Yamras, Michael and Sarah. No, this wasn't right...they couldn't be dead!

A sudden noise startled her, and she whirled to see Henry staggering there, bleeding. "Mary...help..." he whispered, and then collapsed.

"No...no," Mary muttered fiercely. She kept turning, almost automatically, trying to find some sign that this wasn't happening, that there was a way out.

"Mary....how could you...trust..." Seluria staggered into view, seemingly out of nowhere. She was also injured. "Why..." she managed to say before falling to the ground too.

Mary wanted to scream, but couldn't for some reason. She kept turning, and Robert appeared, grinning. "So they are dead," he stated, "I win the game." He gestured to a checkerboard sitting on a table, with pieces on it.

"No!" Mary shouted, and....she sat up, sweating. It was still dark, which told her that it was just a dream. Then again, while only a nightmare, it had disturbed her even worse than the last one. She couldn't remember the last time she had woken up so frightened. Certainly at the least it hadn't been this bad since her mother's death...Mary shook her head. She did not want to think about that again.

She lay back down, knowing she wouldn't likely fall asleep again. If this was the result of dealing with a situation like this, Mary knew that her departure could not come soon enough.

* * * * *

Henry noted Mary seemed tired when she walked into the kitchen. While hardly surprising, it did leave him worried.

"Henry? Um...what are you doing in here?" Mary asked, looking startled to see him.

"Talking to you," Henry said.

"Seems to me you haven't really started talking yet," Mary quipped, "So what is it?"

"You're alright with leaving here?" Henry went ahead and threw out the question. After all, he hadn't gotten a definite answer last night.

"I don't want to...but it's probably for the best," Mary sighed, "I wish there were some other way, but...you're right. I don't know what would happen if there were more intruders."

Henry nodded. It was good that Mary was being agreeable about this. He had actually expected her to protest it more. Knowing how much she cared for Robert and his family, despite everything she had been through, this was a minor surprise.

"I'll have food ready soon, so you don't have to wait around here," Mary told him, smirking. Henry took the hint and left, knowing that at least she was trying to feel better about the situation. That was somewhat of a relief, as it allowed him to focus on other duties.

* * * * *

Mary hummed as the flatcakes began to cook. Henry's worry that she would not go along with his decision both touched her and bothered her, all at once. It was typical of Henry. he didn't rely on telling her how he felt, instead letting his actions speak it for him. However, she got the impression he didn't entirely trust her in this...

She shook her head furiously, irritated at her own doubts. She was being a fool. If she couldn't trust Henry, there was no one else she could trust. Henry trusted in her, and Mary knew she needed to do the same. It wasn't like something miraculous was going to happen, like the Three Saints showing up in person to help her.

Looking down at the cooking food, she wondered if her mother had ever had this problem. For that matter, Mary didn't really know that much about her parents. Her mother had never talked about herself when she was alive, and her father...it would have taken incredible luck getting him to talk about anything not related to his duties.

Either way, she told herself as she began to sort out the flatcakes like she always did, it didn't matter. Her parents most certainly had never had to deal with exiled elves, scheming councilmen, or would-be assassins. This was really her problem to deal with, and she'd do it her way. Although she wished they could be here to see this...

No, Mary stated to herself firmly. She wasn't going to let herself get upset again, knowing better than that. Loading the tray containing the flatcake dishes, she headed out of the kitchen. Soon, she told herself again, repeating the words that gave her hope. Soon, she would be living with Henry, and everything would work itself out from there.

* * * * *

Henry took a bite of the flatcakes. He reminded himself to ask later if Mary actually ever made anything else to eat in the morning. It seemed to him that they were eating mostly the same things every day, and it was growing tiresome. However, compared to some of the things he had dealt with in certain jobs, this was a minor detail.

The councilman would probably return today or tomorrow, and that was the main problem. After all, Williamkin was the one ultimately paying him, and Henry wouldn't be terribly surprised if the councilman was less than generous. Even though he and Michael had settled on a good amount, Williamkin could easily rework the agreement as he saw fit. That was the risk of a job not sanctioned by the guild. However, in order to be as successful as Henry was, the risk had to be taken.

"Can I try one of those things?" Seluria asked Mary, breaking the silence. The elven girl gestured to a strawberry on Mary's plate.

"Of course," Mary replied, passing the berry to Seluria, who promptly took a bite.

"It's good," Seluria spoke through a mouthful of the strawberry. She swallowed, then continued, "What's it called?"

"A strawberry," Mary answered. Henry shook his head, idly wondering how many things the elf was unfamiliar with that were common in Amestraton. Undoubtedly, Mary had likely already dealt with this several times.

"I've never heard of a berry like this," Seluria frowned thoughtfully, "We sometimes gathered crowberries in the forest, but...are you sure this is a berry?"

"Crowberries?" Michael asked, ignoring the elven girl's other question.

"I guess you've never heard of those either," Seluria responded, "They are small and blue, and taste very good when crushed."

Henry had to wonder why Seluria and Michael kept ended up talking about food. It wasn't like it helped resolve the current problems they were facing. Perhaps this was how Michael spent most of his time, discussing pointless things like this. Henry preferred to be focused on more important matters, avoiding minor distractions.

"Would be nice if I could try them," Michael complained. "Probably can't though."

"Why not?" Seluria drew back slightly, looking at Michael.

"I'm allergic to strawberries, and probably other berries too," he explained to the elf. Henry put that information away for later, noticing Mary was looking a little sheepish. It probably had something to do with the allergy, but it wasn't Henry's concern. After all, bringing it up would just remind her of her father's death, and he wasn't about to start with that subject again..

"Oh, just like..." Seluria trailed off, obviously stopping herself from going over the same subject. "Sorry," the elf said in a small voice. Henry turned back to Mary, to see what her reaction was.

* * * * *

Mary sighed, not certain whether to be grateful or annoyed. She could accept the fact, that through tragic misfortune, her father had died. It didn't bother her that much anymore. Mary had come to understand that nothing could be done about it. While she wished he hadn't died, it simply didn't matter really.

While she knew Seluria meant well, Mary found herself wishing the girl didn't try to avoid the subject. Not talking about it didn't change things, after all. She almost smiled at the thought that sounded something like Henry would say.

"It's alright," she told everyone, realizing that they were all looking at her. Mary wasn't exactly happy about that, but then again she had taken a while to answer.

"Really?" Michael asked.

"Yes, I am," Mary replied, then felt embarrassed. She was letting herself get too irritated, and all they were doing was trying to be nice. "Sorry, I'm just..."

"No need to apologize," Michael said quickly, "We won't bring up the matter again."

"That's...not it," Mary shook her head, "I...never mind. Let's just eat." She resumed eating, noting her flatcakes were cooling. She'd better eat them fast, because cold flatcakes did not taste pleasant at all.

* * * * *

Henry shook his head as he left the dining hall. That conversation had been very awkward, and he had been somewhat irritated by the fact that none of them got to the point. He understood what Mary had been trying to say, of course. She just wanted to get on with life, and not have to deal with more grieving or sympathy due to her father's death.

He couldn't find fault with that. Practicality commonly required people to put their own emotions aside in favor of actions, and Henry knew this better than most. Michael not realizing Mary could set aside her grief was somewhat surprising, given that she had been there all of his life. At least Seluria, having not known Mary that long, had a rational reason for thinking that way.

Of course, Henry reminded himself, such emotional issues were unimportant in the long run. With Mary having agreed to departing, all he had to do was wait for Councilman Williamkin's return, and finish it off. He shouldn't have to get more involved here. This family had serious problems, both individually and as a whole. Henry believed that getting Mary out was the best option.

Well, enough of him standing around thinking about the situation. Perhaps he'd been doing too much of that lately. It might just be an effect of this house, Henry noted amusedly. That certainly would explain Mary's tendency to think about strange things.

* * * * *

Mary set the last of the dishes down, glad to be done cleaning them. While it was boring, she knew very well that if they weren't clean, they could become extremely filthy, and make the house smell bad. While her dislike of cleaning in general remained, she knew this had to be done.

At least she hadn't had to dust or polish the furniture recently...which, strangely enough, made her feel a little guilty about not doing it. It was odd, finding herself thinking like that when she disliked having to do that. She'd probably work on it later today. After all, Mary doubted that she'd be here much longer.

Beginning to put the plates up, Mary decided that she needed to take her mind off of more serious matters for the moment. She began to hum her favorite song, enjoying the sound as she worked. Sometimes, it was the simple things that were the most cheerful, Mary thought as she worked.

"What's that noise you're making?" Seluria's voice interrupted her.

Mary sighed and turned to face the girl, "It's an old song, one of my favorites."

"Does it have any words?" Seluria asked, "I don't understand how you can make noises with your mouth like that and it being a song."

Apparently Seluria had never heard of humming before, something that was odd. "I was just humming it," Mary explained, keeping a level tone, "It does have words, though."

"Can you sing it?" Seluria looked curious, "I'm wondering if it's...different from our music."

"I don't know..." Mary conceded. While she didn't think her singing voice was particularly good, it wasn't like she hated the idea of singing. It was just...she wasn't certain she wanted to sing to someone. Mary had never done it before, after all.

" _There once was a pretty young girl/Who owned a golden locket/Because she wanted to be safe/She put it in her pocket_ ," Mary sang, then took a breath before continuing. " _And there once was a rugged thief/Who sought gold of any kind/So he followed the young girl/With robbery on his mind._ "

Seluria smiled and Mary took another deep breath. She really wasn't used to singing much, and her throat was already beginning to ache slightly. " _As the thief followed the maiden/Whose appearance was oh so fair/He found himself admiring/Her long golden curly hair_ ," Mary's voice wavered slightly, and she coughed lightly.

"Are you okay?" Seluria sounded concerned.

"I'm fine," Mary took another breath, "I'm just not used to singing."

"Maybe you can just tell me what the rest of the song is like," Seluria suggested.

"Alright," Mary replied, "It's about how the thief and the maiden fall in love." She resumed putting dishes away, needing to get work done.

"Funny," commented Seluria.

"What?" asked Mary, not bothering to turn and look at the elven girl.

"I would have thought you'd have hated that kind of song," Seluria noted, "Since you didn't like my tale of Sula."

Mary opened her mouth, about to say they weren't the same thing...and then she realized they actually were. Both involved a man with ill intentions...and a girl who fell in love with them. "Point taken," she admitted, shaking her head. Mary knew she should be offended, and yet didn't really feel upset over it.

Seluria shrugged, apparently unaware of the way how critical her comment really was. "So, do you need any help?" she suddenly changed the subject, surprising Mary,

"Alright," Mary said after a brief pause, "You can help me sort these. You see, these dishes with the flower design..."

* * * * *

Henry hadn't been this bored in a long time. That was the one potential problem with guard duty, he knew. Despite paying well, it could end up extremely uneventful. Of course, it was supposed to preferably be that way, as it kept the job safe. However, Henry avoided longer jobs when he could, as they tended to be tedious. Just like this one was turning out to be.

That had been why he was originally leery of the caravan escort, despite it ending up working out for him in a number of ways. It had been the potential benefits, in terms of money and reputation, that had ended up convincing him to do it. In retrospect though, Mary's suggestion had most likely inadvertently saved her life. That made it very much worth it.

It still didn't change the fact that Henry was very much tired of this job. If he were a lesser mercenary, he might have considered just leaving the house immediately. Henry, however, would see this job through to the end. That was what separated the best mercenaries from the rest, and Henry knew which group he belonged to.

No, there was nothing else he could do about it. Henry would just have to endure for the rest of today, and whatever few days remained. The end result, he reminded himself again, would make this whole endeavor worthwhile.

* * * * *

"So, what is elven music like?" Mary asked curiously. She and Seluria were walking down the hallway, having finished with the cleaning of dishes. While Mary knew she ought to be going to do more work, it could wait until later.

"It's different," Seluria said, "I wouldn't know how to compare them..."

"Then why don't you sing?" Mary surprised herself slightly, but decided not to retract the question. After all, she was genuinely curious as to what it sounded like.

"Well, I'm not a very good singer..." Seluria protested.

"Neither am I," Mary pointed out.

"I'll try," Seluria rubbed her face, "Hold on, I'm trying to remember how the heck that one went."

Mary stood there for a minute as Seluria thought. Finally, Seluria spoke, "Okay, I think I remember this song."

"Go ahead then," Mary told the girl, eager to hear it.

"Hunter with a full quiver/Going out to the woods for a sliver/Of meat to give her, his fair lady," Seluria half-sang rapidly. It sounded very strange to Mary, almost like there was something missing. "Food for them and for the baby/Hidden in the forest so shady/A glade he found, with food for..." Seluria's voice, then her head fell as she said, "I'm sorry, I thought I had remembered the words...but those weren't the right ones."

"It's alright," Mary nodded, "It was...different, as you said."

Seluria smiled sadly, "It sounds better with the drums we normally play, I guess."

"You miss it, don't you?" Mary realized suddenly, "Your home, I mean."

"Yeah, I do, sort of" Seluria admitted, "While I hated the plotting, some of the rest...I'm just not used to this place yet."

"It's alright," Mary lightly hugged the elven girl. She couldn't imagine what it was like, being so far from everything you knew. Luckily, that would never happen to Mary. Amestraton was her home...and for the near future, Seluria's too.

* * * * *

Henry was a bit surprised to see Michael walk into the front hall. He had expected Williamkin's son to stay in his room most of the day. Either he was going out, which so far he hadn't done, or he had come to talk to Henry himself...the latter possibility worried him.

"Can we talk?" Michael asked, walking up.

"Yes," Henry said. A humorous thought came to his mind, that while they could talk, but it didn't mean they had to. He dismissed it, and turned his attention back to Michael.

"What are you going to do after my father returns?" Michael looked Henry straight on.

So that was what this was about, Henry realized. "Leave," he said, deciding there was no reason not to be honest here.

"And Mary?" Michael was quite predictable.

"She'll most likely go with me," Henry stated. Deceiving Michael was pointless, as it would only make him angry.

"You know, I could recommend that my father hire you as a bodyguard..." Michael started to offer.

"Not going to happen," Henry spoke with clear finality. Damn, he thought. He hadn't foreseen this complication, which looked like it could possibly make this job go bad rather quickly. However, if he took a hit to his payment, so be it.

"But...why?" Michael looked astonished, obviously not seeing the facts.

"You couldn't pay me enough to put myself...and Mary...through the risk," Henry emphasized Mary's name, hoping he would catch on.

"Very well," Michael said tightly, obviously not happy, "I suppose I cannot get you to go beyond your word." He paused, and phrased his next words coldly and clearly, "As soon as my father returns to this house, you may do as you see fit." He whirled and left quickly, his hard steps showing his anger.

Henry shook his head, a bit irritated by Michael's naïve nature. He ought to have realized, from the moment he had learned of Mary's love, that it meant she would end up leaving. Some people just fixated on the present too much. Henry knew better than that, and prepared for the future.

* * * * *

Mary looked over the room, satisfied. The parlor looked its finest, with everything dusted, polished, and otherwise cleaned. Looking over at her newly chosen assistant, Mary was glad that Seluria had been able to help her. As far as she could remember, she'd never been able to get the parlor clean this fast before.

"Thank you for the help," she told Seluria.

"No problem," the girl said, "It's...interesting. I've never seen anyone have to do this kind of work before."

"Really?" Mary was surprised, "You don't clean like that?"

"Our houses are...a little more primitive than yours," Seluria shifted back and forth, avoiding looking at Mary.

"Primitive?" Mary had a sneaking suspicion.

Seluria sighed, then spoke, "They're made of wood and mud."

"What?" Mary was startled. Even though she hadn't believed that elves had lived in "crystalline spires", as many of the books phrased it, it was astonishing that they lived so crudely.

"Yeah, I thought so," Seluria commented, surprising Mary.

"Huh?" Mary stared at Seluria, unable to make sense of the remark.

"Michael reacted the same way when I told him that," the elven girl explained.

"Oh," Mary was unable to stop herself from chuckling. Seluria let out a laugh herself. Mary found her good humor died when she reminded herself of what she and Henry planned to do...and what it meant for Seluria. She hoped that, when the time came, the elven girl would understand.

"So you talked to Michael?" Mary asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah," Seluria frowned, "He asked me a bunch of questions." Mary shook her head; Michael could be very annoying at times.

"Well, don't let him bother you too much," Mary advised, "Now, if you excuse me, I have more work to do...and I don't think you can help me do it." Seluria nodded, and Mary headed off.

* * * * *

Henry entered the study to see Mary cleaning. He hadn't really visited this room yet, and judging from what he'd seen she didn't normally come in here either. Given that this was where Williamkin most likely did a lot of his work, it probably was to avoid disturbing him. While he didn't care for the councilman, Henry could respect the need for privacy while working hard.

"Henry," she said, paling slightly on seeing him, "What's wrong?"

"Michael isn't happy about our plans," he told her.

"That's all?" Mary sounded slightly relieved, "While I wish you hadn't told him...I'm not surprised."

"He asked me," Henry pointed out.

"Oh...alright," Mary said slowly, "What did he say?"

"Not much," Henry wasn't certain how much to mention to Mary, "He wanted you to stay, I think."

"I thought he would," Mary shook her head, "But it's not like we can do anything better, right?"

"Of course not," Henry reassured Mary. He was mildly surprised to find himself vaguely wanting to handle it differently. But there was no other option to take. Either they left together, or they took the risk of getting killed if any more attacks happened.

"Excuse me," Mary spoke up, "If you really don't have anything else to say...I need to get back to work."

"Sorry," Henry said, looking around the room briefly. A pair of desks with chairs, a small table for refreshments, and a few more portraits of the family adorned the room. Henry made mental notes of all of these before turning to the door. "See you later."

* * * * *

Mary found herself a little annoyed as she prepared to start dinner. She had hoped that Henry would have had a little more tact and not revealed their decision to Michael so readily. Still, it couldn't really be helped. Hiding things from him would only make him angry. Given all else they were having to deal with, an angry Michael was the last thing they needed.

A sudden noise from the outside door startled her and made her turn. Her body felt icy cold as she saw that a man, wearing dark clothing and brandishing a sword, had burst in. Two more men were behind him, both with blades of their own.

"Hey lady," the one in front said, "Just stay there and this will be quick and painless..."

Mary was terrified, but something in her told her that doing what they told her was a very bad idea. Without even blinking, she turned and ran as fast as she could out of the kitchen, calling out a warning, "Henry! Everyone! Intruders!"

* * * * *

Henry heard Mary yelling and reacted instantly, drawing his sword. As she burst into the front hall, Henry moved forward to cut whoever was following her off. Three men, all wearing dark grey, burst into the room, swords extended. Henry parried one blow, and evaded the others.

"Warn the others!" he called out to Mary, before turning his attention back to the battle. Three to one odds were not in his favor, and he knew his best bet was to end this quickly. The three circled him warily, studying his stance.

One of them moved in swiftly, and Henry deflected the incoming blow with a swing of his own. Given their numbers, they were likely going to attempt to wear him down. There wasn't much he could do about that, so he'd just have to wait for an opening and hope that luck was with him. His one advantage was that they couldn't all come at him at the same time, making this possible. He raised his sword for another swing as two of them moved in.

Bringing his sword around, Henry ducked under their swings and took a swipe of his own. They barely were able to evade it in time by halting their swings and stepping back, but the third assailant was already moving in. Henry forced his sword to reverse direction, and block the incoming swing. Although he was successful, the effort strained his arm.

The three attackers backed off, exchanging glances. All Henry could do was hope that he was buying enough time for Mary and the others to escape.

* * * * *

Peeking around the edge of the door, Mary watched fearfully as Henry fought against the three thugs. Henry looked like he was holding his own, but he was still outnumbered. By the Three Saints, this was not looking good.

At least she had warned Michael and Seluria about the attack. Michael had indicated he would barricade himself inside his room. Seluria, surprisingly, had remained calm and gone to her room also, although Mary couldn't be certain what she planned. At least they were both out of the way, so they wouldn't likely be in real danger.

While she knew that she ought to seek safety herself, Mary couldn't help but watch him. Even though it was incredibly foolish of her, she needed to see the end of this battle. She loved him too much to leave and find safety. It would actually be something like out of a ballad. If Henry fell, she would join him in death. Surely that would be appropriate...

Mary shook her head furiously. She didn't want to die, and she didn't want Henry to either. What kind of fool was she, thinking of their death as something heroic and noble. They had to survive; there was no way this could end in failure. Dying here and now for either of them would be completely pointless.

Please, Henry, Mary silently asked. She hoped he could find a way to defeat these attackers, find a way to live to see tomorrow.

* * * * *

Henry was starting to become exhausted.. Although he had managed to avoid getting hit so far, he had only just barely injured one of his opponents, with a minor slice to one leg. That particular attacker was hanging back slightly, trying to avoid exposing any weaknesses while the other two continued their offense. They weren't even talking. They didn't have to, as their coordination was near perfect.

Again they moved in, and again Henry drove them back. Sweat was beginning to roll down his face. He wasn't used to having to fight an extended fight like this. However, by this point he and the other three intruders should be the only ones left in the house. If he died here, at least Mary was safe. That was small consolation to Henry, who most definitely did not want to die.

"Hey lads, try fighting someone with a real beard!" a familiar voice shouted, and Henry turned to see Yamras charging through the front door. Before Henry could react to this sudden development, he saw a sudden movement from one of the attackers. He fell back, but Henry felt a sharp slicing pain on his left arm. Damn it, he thought, drawing further away from the assailant, who was grinning wickedly. That's what he deserved for being so easily distracted.

Taking a second to examine the wound, Henry found it was shallow...but bleeding heavily. This was bad; if he bled out too much, that could make him pass out due to his exhaustion. Henry clumsily fended off another sword strike. That attacker, however, disengaged from dueling Henry and joined his fellows in fighting Yamras.

Just as well, as he didn't think he could keep fighting anyway. Henry stumbled over to the wall and sat himself down, head reeling and arm hurting. Hopefully, he could recover in a few minutes and then rejoin the fight.

* * * * *

Mary was shocked to see Henry slump down against the wall, looking pale, even more than she was at the sudden return of Yamras. Rushing out, she moved quickly to his side, panicking. "Henry?" she gasped.

Henry blinked slowly, "Mary...you should have left," he said, then winced. Mary looked down at his left arm, which he was holding with his other hand. Blood was covering his fingers, and while she was no expert on injuries, Mary knew that the injury had to be serious.

"I...couldn't..." was all Mary could say.

"You should have," Henry told her, grunting, "This isn't...like a ballad."

Mary shook her head, tears blurring her vision, "I know...but I couldn't." She hugged Henry tightly, causing him to groan in pain. "Sorry," she said, releasing him, "But it's alright. Yamras will take care of it." At least, she hoped the dwarf could handle it. If she remembered correctly, though, he had actually been a guard before starting escorting the trade caravans, so he should be able to.

Mary sat down besides Henry, and gripped his left hand tightly as she watched the fight. Yamras seemed to be doing decently at the moment, although he hadn't landed any blows. She hoped he could finish this fight soon.

* * * * *

Henry's vision was growing a little dim, but that didn't prevent him from seeing that Yamras was losing in just the same way he had lost. They were wearing the dwarf out, and taking their time about it. While they were showing signs of exhaustion themselves, it was evident to him what the final outcome of the fight was going to be.

He wished he could get up and help Yamras, but Henry knew his body well enough to realize that wasn't going to happen. Between the blood loss and the fighting, he was truly exhausted. He doubted he could fight off a crippled orc in his current condition, let alone three armed thugs.

Looking over at Mary, he wondered why she hadn't sought safety. She knew full well that being a fool like that would only get her killed, but she had stayed anyway. It wasn't like she could have helped in the fight. Her previous victory over the lone orc had been pure luck, and she had to know it. And yet, she stayed behind, with no possible reason other than that the person she cared for had been at risk.

It felt good knowing that she cared for him that much...almost relaxing. Which was good, because Henry needed some rest. He closed his eyes and shut out the sounds of the battle. Yamras would take care of it in the meantime...

* * * * *

Mary felt Henry's hand relax, and looked down to see him unconscious. "No," she whispered, looking up at Yamras. The dwarf swung his axe again wildly, missing the assailants who now looked confident. This had to be some kind of nightmare, she thought desperately. It couldn't end like this, Mary told herself.

"I see," said a familiar voice quietly. Mary looked up to see a blurred shape dart by her. Was that...Seluria? It couldn't possibly be anyone else. The figure moved in rapidly, launching a rapid kick one of the attackers, making him stumble. Before he could react, she leapt back out of the way, and moved to the next one and quickly struck him too, then moved on.

Mary had never seen anything quite like what Seluria was doing now. The closest thing she could think of were a couple of bar fights Henry had described for her, but those had been rough and tumble affairs. This...was almost like some form of dance, with Seluria moving smoothly and gracefully between the attackers. Mary couldn't think of any other way to describe it.

The attackers looked confused, suddenly thrown off by the new threat. "I can't hit her!" one of them shouted, breaking the silence. He then leapt sideways, barely dodging a swing from Yamras.

Seluria jumped back and stopped, causing all of them to stare. "I can keep going," she stated calmly.

"What the...an elf?" the one who had been cut by Henry exclaimed, "No...no way...damn it, I'm not getting paid enough for this!" Without another word he turned and ran out the open front door. The other two glanced at each other, and darted after him, leaving the room silent.

"Well...uh..." Yamras said, looking around the room, "Hello."

* * * * *

Henry groaned as he opened his eyes. He appeared to be lying in his temporary bed. The injury to his arm ached horribly, and he still felt tired...but he was alive at least, which meant Yamras had won. That was a relief...but what about Mary? He tried to sit up, grunting in pain.

"Don't get up, please," Seluria spoke nearby. Henry understood the value of that, and relaxed a little.

"Is Mary alright?" Henry had to know, before anything else.

"She's...definitely okay," Seluria answered, sounding slightly sheepish. Henry knew instantly something was up.

"What's wrong?" he asked. He might be tired, but even now, he was no fool.

"Nothing...really," Seluria's tone told him she was clearly hiding something. He started to say more, but then Yamras walked in.

"Bah, she wouldn't listen to me," the dwarf grumbled. "Michael either. At least he's awake now."

"I'll go talk to her," Seluria sighed and exited the room.

Yamras took a seat there, and looked down at Henry, frowning. "I guess I owe you an explanation, lad."

"Go on," Henry told the dwarf.

"You remember when you went to help Mary with shopping?" Yamras looked down, sounding ashamed.

"Yes," Henry wondered where the dwarf was going with this conversation.

"Well, someone came by and left this note," Yamras explained, producing a piece of paper. Henry reached over and took it, and read over it.

To Michael Robertkin: We have your father and mother. Meet us tomorrow at the traders' guild to discuss what you can do to get them back. Fail to meet with us will result in drastic measures being taken.

The note had no signature, and Henry had no way of recognizing the writing. It didn't make sense though. If they had Councilman Williamkin and Lady Ellenkin hostage, why would they need Michael's cooperation? Anything he could do for someone, Williamkin could too, and much more readily. And with his wife captive, he'd have ample reason to do so.

"So you knew something bad might happen," Henry looked up at Yamras, "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because I was stupid," Yamras spat bitterly, "I wasn't sure how to tell you...and then I got so angry about the whole Seluria thing, that I forgot all about it...until earlier today."

Henry might have felt angrier, had he not been so exhausted. As it was, he was frustrated by the whole situation. Yamras's lack of self-control had come close to dooming them. At least he had come back in time to resolve the problem, which was more than most people did.

"And Mary?" Henry pressed on.

"When I told the lass, I thought she would punch me," Yamras shook his head, "Not that I don't deserve it. She ran off and shut herself in her room."

Henry sighed, and looked up at the ceiling of the room. He couldn't blame Mary for being angry, as he was himself irritated with the dwarf. However, there were more immediate problems. With whoever it was - Henry suspected that this went far beyond the councilmen - wanting Michael to give in to their demands, he needed all the help he could get.

* * * * *

"Mary," Seluria asked through the door, "May I talk to you?"

Mary didn't know whether she wanted to talk to Seluria or not at the moment. She was fairly certain the elven girl was here to ask for an acceptance of Yamras's apology, but Mary didn't feel particularly sorry. Given that Henry's injury could have been avoided if the dwarf had been honest, she didn't feel like she was unreasonable.

"Mary?" Seluria said, sounding concerned.

Mary sighed. "Come in," she answered, knowing exactly what Seluria was going to say.

The girl entered the room and stood there for a minute, silent. "Why are you so angry with Yamras?" Seluria finally said.

"Henry almost got killed," Mary stated coldly. She couldn't comprehend why Seluria didn't understand this. "If Yamras hadn't hidden it from us...this wouldn't have happened!"

Seluria paused, an odd look on her face. "So...you hated your father that much?"

"Huh?" Mary was confused. That was definitely not what she had expected.

"You forgave me," Seluria spat, clearly upset, "Your father died because of me, but you accepted that. With what Yamras did...we're all still alive, but you won't forgive him?" Mary had never seen Seluria this angry before. "Is Henry the only thing that matters to you?"

"What? No, I..." Mary was dumbfounded by the accusation. That wasn't true; Mary had cared for her father, it was just...was that really the case? No, she told herself firmly. She had worked through this before, and was certain that she had done the right thing then.

But then again...was she doing the right thing now? Seluria had apologized, and Mary could accept that. There was no reason she shouldn't accept the one offered by Yamras, but she had refused it. As she thought about it, the answer became clear. Her father hadn't really been part of what she had wanted for the future.

"I guess," Mary admitted, "I should apologize to Yamras. It's just that...we were so close to getting what we wanted, and...it almost got taken away, just because..." She trailed off, unwilling to think of the possibility of Henry dead.

"Okay...I understand," Seluria said, glancing down, "By the way, Henry's awake now."

* * * * *

Henry looked over as Mary entered the room. Yamras had left after a while, apparently having nothing to say to Henry. That was fine, as the reverse was true as well. At any rate, he had to discuss matters with Mary.

Seluria walked in, and Henry felt a twinge of annoyance. He would have preferred to hold his conversation in private, but there wasn't anything he could do to ensure it in his condition. Besides, he could turn this to his advantage. Better that Seluria heard the information from him, than from a secondhand source like Michael.

"You're alright?" Mary knelt down, looking concerned and very tired.

"I'll live," Henry told her, reaching over and patting her on the shoulder.

"Well...what should we do next?" she asked, shifting slightly. Henry could tell that she was troubled, and it was apparent why.

Henry thought for a moment. He didn't want to give up on this job, as the effects of doing so on his reputation would be quite bad. In addition, he wouldn't get a worthing out of it. But if there was another attack, he would be hard pressed to defend against it. While he was not unskilled with a blade, in retrospect taking on three skilled thugs at the same time had been completely foolish.

His worry is that the next time, they would send even more men, who would be better prepared. Next time, he wouldn't be able to count on Yamras to save him. And with Robert held hostage...he wasn't certain what he should do either. All Henry knew is that there would likely be no more chances. The next attack would likely be the last one.

While Seluria was still apparently unknown to their enemies, it was only a matter of time before they found out about her. And despite her thwarting the first attack, Henry did not have a lot of confidence that she could pull it off again.

"Henry?" Mary asked. He realized he'd let himself get lost in thought, something he didn't normally do. He must be more tired than he had thought. Better to keep this short, then.

"I need rest for now," Henry explained, "Later, we'll work out how to handle this."

Mary nodded, and Seluria leaned against the wall. Hopefully he could use the time to think of something, as he really was uncertain of what they should do. It wasn't that he was being dishonest. He'd be able to think better once he recovered.

"Can you get me something to eat?" Henry asked Mary, deciding that food would be good right now.

"By the Three Saints," Mary stood up, exclaiming, "I forgot all about dinner! Excuse me." She rushed out of the room, looking quite embarrassed. Henry quietly chuckled; some things were just too entertaining not to laugh at.

* * * * *

Mary was practically running when she got to the kitchen. Even with the attack, she shouldn't have let herself forget about food. Perhaps Seluria was right, and she was letting her feelings for Henry get in the way.

No, she told herself again, she needed to stop doubting herself. Second-guessing herself could come at a later point. For now, Mary decided, she ought to focus on what she could do, which was cook. But what to make...she'd have to make do with dried meat. While it was normally used for stuffing, there wasn't much else she could prepare quickly.

"Mary?" Michael said from the kitchen door.

"What?" she snapped, then felt foolish over her own anger. "I'm sorry, I just-"

"No offense taken," Michael seemed oddly...calm, "I need to talk to you."

"Alright," Mary replied, turning her attention back to preparing the food.

"So you're planning on leaving with Henry, correct?" he asked.

"Yes," Mary was surprised by the question. She thought he had already heard that from Henry, so why would he ask her?

"Good," Michael stated. Mary stopped and turned, not certain what to make of that response.

"But...I thought..." she started to say, trying to put her thoughts in order.

"While I do want you to stay here," Michael began, "I'm not going to force you or Henry to risk your life to do so."

Mary doubted that, given what Michael had told Henry before. "Then what you said to Henry before..."

"I didn't think there was really a problem," Michael admitted, "I thought Yamras was just being paranoid...I mean, he even told me that the city watch couldn't even be trusted."

Mary merely nodded, hiding her surprise. She'd heard Henry's explanation of that before, and while she disagreed, it was unexpected that someone like Yamras held those same views. Perhaps there really were some bad sorts among the city guard, but it shouldn't extend to all of them.

"But this proved it," Michael shook his head angrily, "I'm what they are after, and I will not let anyone be hurt on my account."

Mary gasped. Michael...he was going to do something stupidly heroic, something straight out of a ballad, wasn't he? No, wait, he couldn't-

"I am not my father," Michael stated coldly, "I'm not going to let other people put themselves in harm's way for my sake. Do you understand?" Mary nodded again, and Michael's expression lightened. "Good. As soon as Henry has recovered, I want you both to leave. Don't worry, he will be paid the full amount for his bodyguard services - he's earned it."

Michael turned and exited the room, leaving Mary there shaking. She couldn't leave Michael alone to face these enemies, even if they were aiming for him. But what could she do about it? Sighing, she resumed preparing food, knowing that this would likely be one of the last times she worked in this kitchen.

She'd definitely miss this place. Mary sighed, knowing that she couldn't give in to nostalgia now. The enjoyment of the kitchen, the time spent with her mother - that was almost all in the past now. There wasn't much of a future left here, if her life was constantly at risk. It was very strange though. Mary had thought from time to time that life would be more...exciting, if she lived with Henry.

She shook her head, realizing she was getting distracted...again. Mary sighed, and turned back to the cooking. She could worry about the future later.

* * * * *

Seluria cleared her throat, waking Henry up a little. "You're still here?" he asked, feeling a little slow.

"Why don't you want to stay?" the elf responded with her own question.

"Stay? Uh..." Henry was tired, and had to stop and think about what Seluria was saying. "Because...the risk is too great."

"Okay, I think I understand," she said slowly, "I wonder though..." Seluria looked down thoughtfully, and Henry closed his eyes. Why was he so tired? Perhaps it was because he hadn't eaten...no, that couldn't be the problem. He'd gone without food before.

Mary entered the room, carrying a tray. "Your food is waiting in the dining hall," she instructed the elven girl.

"What about you?" Seluria paused, looking back as she headed through the doorway.

"I'm going to eat in here." Mary stated. Henry was quite pleased that Mary had set up the situation so they could talk in private.

"Okay," Seluria said, shrugging. The elf exited the room, leaving the two behind to eat.

* * * * *

As Henry ate, Mary noticed that he looked somewhat better. If she had actually been paying attention to important matters such as dinner, he might not have ended up as bad as he had appeared when she entered the room. But at least he was fed, and perhaps now they could discuss things.

"So, about us leaving," she began, not knowing how to phrase what Michael had told her.

Henry sighed, "More objections?"

"No, the opposite," Mary frowned, deciding to be straightforward, "Michael wants us to leave as soon as possible."

Henry snorted in disbelief. "Why do I not believe that," he said, in what clearly was not a question.

"He sounded honest," Mary responded, not exactly happy about Henry's doubt. While she understood why he didn't think Michael was being sincere, she didn't want to have to argue her point. "Anyway, I think he plans on doing something foolish."

"I doubt I could stop him," Henry spoke, confirming Mary's worries.

"I know," she admitted, "But I don't like it." It really was the age-old ballad coming from her. Mary, knowing some action was for the best and not liking anyway, and being forced to go along with it. She was probably far too predictable.

"Don't worry." Henry stated, stopping to yawn. Mary suspected that he was worried himself, but wasn't letting it show. "They'll be capable without us. If Yamras could save me, he should be able to protect them."

"Yamras...didn't save you," Mary said. She'd forgotten he'd passed out before Seluria had entered the fray.

"Oh, then who?" Henry looked at her, sarcasm evident in his voice, "Seluria?"

"Exactly," Mary smiled, knowing exactly what sort of reaction this would get.

"Oh," Henry drew back slightly, clearly surprised. Mary couldn't help but chuckle, and Henry soon joined in. Even when injured, the fact that Henry maintained his sense of humor was worth it.

* * * * *

Henry found the idea highly amusing. Mary had definitely come up with some entertaining remarks before, but this was refreshingly different from her usual quips. It felt good to laugh like that...and the food had helped as well.

"Alright, enough jokes," Henry spoke after the laughter died down, "Who ended the fight?"

"I...wasn't joking," Mary looked surprised. Henry himself was equally stunned. Was it really Seluria who had done it? If that was case...he had underestimated the elf again. Surviving in the wilderness was improbable enough, but being able to fight off armed assailants was beyond that.

Still, that posed one other problem. "Did they see she was an elf?"

"Yes," Mary admitted, looking unhappy. Henry closed his eyes, irritated. It was enough that there were people trying to get Michael to do...something, but now there would likely soon be people seeking confirmation that there was an elf here. While he supposed that it was better that he wasn't dead, Seluria's actions raised a new set of problems.

"Let's finish dinner," Henry told Mary, feeling tired of having to deal with this situation. It seemed like this had been an extremely long day. "I'll worry about this later."

"Alright," Mary said, resuming eating

* * * * *

Mary went into her room, looking around it. She might as well start preparing what she owned for the move to Henry's place. She closed the door behind her, realizing there wasn't all that much for her to pack. Her possessions amounted to just her clothing and a few small keepsakes. In fact, it could be argued - assuming someone was around willing to argue it - that she didn't even own that much.

Then again, her father's possessions might belong to her as well...it was a shame that Henry had fallen asleep already, so she couldn't go in there and look through them. It bothered her a little that she had never really bothered to find out about his past before. Seluria was partly right on that account. She wasn't entirely certain she really had cared for her father.

A knock on the door surprised her. It was fairly late in the evening, so Mary hadn't expected anyone to want to talk to her again. "Come in," she called, wondering who it was.

As it turned out, it was Yamras, looking a little...tentative, for lack of a better word. The dwarf had never seemed the type, but then again she hadn't known about his temper either. "You still mad at me, lass?" he asked, looking up at her.

Mary sighed, "No, I'm not." There wasn't much point in remaining angry over the situation. It didn't change anything, and possibly made it worse. As long as Yamras didn't make similar mistakes, they should be fine.

"Good." Yamras shook his head, making his beard flop back and forth, "I don't blame you. I'd feel the same if my Agita were hurt."

"Agita?" Mary didn't recognize the name.

"My wife?" Yamras shot her a puzzled look. Mary was dumbfounded. "You're telling me you didn't even know about her?"

"I had...no idea..." Mary said slowly.

"Bah, that seems to be the case far too often," Yamras quipped. While she knew it was a joke, it was painfully true too. She really had been largely ignorant of the people around her. Although her father and mother had rarely talked about their past, and Robert and Sarah rarely talked to her at all...no. She wasn't going to make excuses. Mary knew better than that.

'So...apology accepted?" Yamras asked.

"Alright," Mary nodded.

"Well, I'm for sleeping then." The dwarf turned and headed through the door, then paused. "One more thing..."

"Yes?" Mary sat down on the bed.

Yamras turned and looked her in the eye, "When you move out, try to keep Henry from doing anything too dangerous." He snorted. "He's a restless sort of lad, always looking for something to do."

"I'll...keep that in mind," Mary smiled faintly at the idea of having to keep Henry safe. If anything, it was more likely to be the other way around.

"Night, then." Yamras headed off. Mary shook her head, acknowledging that Yamras wasn't really a bad person. If only he could actually have thought things through...but nothing could be done to fix that now. She had to admit Henry's original assessment had been right. Then again, Henry tended to be correct about such things.

But for now, Mary needed to stop thinking about Henry. She still had to finish preparing for their departure soon. After that, it was time for her to get some sleep too. Whatever came next, Mary couldn't possibly deal with it without sufficient rest.

* * * * *

Henry woke up with a start, his arm feeling stiff. Undoubtedly this was a consequence of his injury yesterday, and it would likely persist for a few more days at least. Hopefully he wouldn't have to see a doctor...the paperwork involved would draw far too much attention than he wanted.

For now, he was content to lay in bed, even though he knew he needed to get up soon. With luck, it would be his last official day of guard duty at Councilman Williamkin's house. He figured one more day of rest would be all he needed before feeling fit enough to be active. While it would be several days before he could take a new job, he had the worthings to pay for that if he was cautious about spending them.

But that could wait. He rose, and prepared to get dressed. The day he had long worked towards was almost at hand. While it had not gone as planned, Henry knew enough to understand that few things did, unlike most people. But soon it would all work out, and he'd have exactly what he wanted.

* * * * *

Chapter 10

* * * * *

Henry walked into the kitchen, knowing it would surprise Mary again...except that Mary was not there. Seluria stood there instead, facing away from the entrance.

"Mary - oh," the elf said, turning to face him.

"She's not up yet?" Henry asked.

"As far as I know, nope," Seluria responded, sounding annoyed, "I'd fix breakfast myself, but I'm...not sure I remember how." She suddenly smirked. "Also, I doubt Yamras would eat it then."

Henry had to admit, that thought amused him. "I'll go find her," he told Seluria, turning around and leaving the kitchen.

As he headed down the hall, Henry began to go over his plan once more. He'd have to go buy a larger bed...and then extra food, because undoubtedly Mary would want better fare than what he normally ate. Not that he was complaining - he had already known Mary's cooking was superb, from before he even came here. It was worth the risk she had taken sneaking out leftovers to him. Again, a pity she used too many spices, but wealthy people like the councilmen preferred it that way.

Arriving at the door to Mary's small room, Henry knocked. For a moment, there was no answer, then the door creaked open, revealing a somewhat disheveled and sleepy Mary, still wearing her nightclothes.

"Uh...Henry...what are you doing up so early?" she yawned.

"It's not that early," he told Mary. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized he was fully dressed for the day.

"Oh...uh," Mary managed to say, before going back into her room. Henry chuckled at her confused expression. He'd couldn't remember ever seeing Mary look so unprepared, and he'd be certain to tease her about it later.

He was tempted to get one last jest in, but decided against it. Henry was in a good mood, but he didn't want Mary to end up in a bad one. He turned and headed back, feeling his stomach complain in a typical manner.

* * * * *

Mary felt flustered as she half-ran to the kitchen. Staying up late to try and fold up all her clothing had been a bad idea. If her father were here, he would have scolded her to no end for something like that. But he wasn't, and...she really needed to quit thinking about his death.

It wasn't like she could help it though. Between thinking of her father's death, the illness of Sarah, the attacks on the house...it seemed like things had only gotten worse in the past few days. It was very difficult to find some bright spot in all of this, despite the fact that the thing she wanted was almost within her grasp.

Yet, Mary found herself going on, propelled by determination. If she gave up now, when their goal was so close, it would render everything Henry and she had worked for pointless. No matter what other people said about her - and her reaction to her father's death - she wouldn't quit. The end was in sight, and she needed to get there.

But first, she had to get to the kitchen. She'd become lost in thought again. Mary hoped she could do a better job keeping track of things when she moved out. She'd become too dependent on her father...and there she went again, thinking about him. At least cooking the food should hopefully take her mind off of depressing matters.

* * * * *

Henry looked over as the dining hall door opened and Yamras tromped in. "Ah, good to see you," the dwarf said casually, moving over to his normal seat and taking it. Henry silently looked at him, thinking it was best to keep Yamras in a good mood. It would not benefit anyone if he lost control of his temper a third time.

"So, I talked with Mary," Yamras cocked his head, "Lad, while I can't be sure of it...I know Robert, as silly as it sounds, does see her as part of his family. You know he's not likely to be happy about this, right?"

Henry nodded, understanding that much. Although he didn't think that Williamkin had treated Mary well enough to earn that position, he knew many people could be delusional about what role they played in events. Sadly, it was not surprising that Mary would be seen this way despite her desire to leave the house.

Yamras opened his mouth to say something else, but Michael entered the room at that point, distracting him. Just as well, as Henry didn't want to talk any more about that matter than necessary. It was all but set in stone, and talking didn't accomplish anything.

Mary and Seluria came in soon after, bringing the flatcakes with them. Henry began eating the moment the food was set in front of him. He was particularly ravenous this morning, no doubt due to his injury. Even though he didn't particularly like flatcakes, he was too hungry to care.

* * * * *

The meal passed by silently, with no one even trying to talk. To Mary, it was a chilly atmosphere in the dining hall. She understood that, in all likelihood, no one really wanted her to leave. But, as she had told herself many times before, there were no other options that would end well for her or Henry. It was a belief that was hard to keep, despite the apparent support she was getting for her decision.

Michael finished his meal and rose. "I've got some business to attend to today at the guild," he stated, "Yamras, would you accompany me?"

"Of course, although it's a good way to lose your beard...and your head," the dwarf grumbled, "But if stuff needs doing, lad, then stuff needs doing."

Mary had thought that the last thing Michael would have wanted to do was to leave the house. And given that Robert seemed to have set things up at the traders' guild so that it practically ran itself. But then again, it wasn't like she was a expert on the workings of the guild. All that Mary knew about it had been picked up from Robert's conversations...and she hadn't really paid close attention.

Turning to Henry, she could see he didn't look happy either. But with his arm still bandaged and healing, she didn't think there was any other way to handle it. He was not in any condition to protect them, and he most likely knew it too.

"Then I'll go prepare," Michael looked around the room, then left. Mary shrugged to herself and resumed eating. As soon as she was done, there was work to be completed.

* * * * *

Henry watched as Mary left, with Seluria following her. He was beginning to worry about the elven girl's single-minded dedication to helping Mary out in any way she could. If it weren't for the bigger problems at hand, he'd have brought the matter up. Hopefully Mary recognized the problems this posed and dealt with it accordingly.

Yamras snorted, and Henry realized the dwarf hadn't left the dining hall. "Don't you have to get ready?" he asked neutrally.

"Are you joking, lad?" Yamras snorted again, "I'm always ready."

Given that the dwarf was either wearing an outfit identical to one he had worn the past two days, or the same clothes, Henry disagreed. Now was not the time for that, though. "What do you want?" he asked bluntly.

"To talk about Seluria, lad," Yamras frowned, "No need to tangle beards, so to speak."

Putting aside the question of how many times Yamras would say the word beard - he'd been thinking like that too much lately - Henry responded, "What about her?"

"Well, I don't know anything about elves," Yamras began, "However, if she's like other elves..." The dwarf trailed off, intending to let his point sink home.

Henry rolled his eyes. Yamras still wasn't all that bright. Of course, he thought sarcastically, all elves secretly want to leave their culture behind in favor of a new life. The fact that Seluria had seized that opportunity when it presented itself, despite what it cost her, proved she was far from an ordinary person. If Henry had to guess, there were few elves like that.

Although Seluria had caused problems, it was fair to say she did her best to help fix them. Henry, being better than most at reading peoples' intentions, was fairly certain there was no ill will on her part. The elf had been simply trying to look after herself first. That wasn't a bad idea, but her ignorance had ruined it.

But enough dwelling on what already happened. "You say that like it's a bad thing..." Henry commented.

Yamras shook his head, "She can outfight three grown mercenaries, knows something about poisons, and is one of a group we thought were all dead! Lad, you better believe that would be a bad thing, if a bunch more with her skills showed up."

Henry had to admit, there was that point. It wasn't like the other elves, based on what he had heard, possessed the same restraints as Seluria. There was no telling what would happen if they did somehow show up here, even though the possibility was unlikely. Not that saying such looked like it would ease Yamras' worries.

Still, there was one other key factor. "Point taken," Henry said, "However, we'll know what to expect." There wasn't much else to be said on the subject.

"Suppose you're right," the dwarf admitted.

* * * * *

Mary turned to face Seluria as the girl followed her into the kitchen. There was something she had been meaning to ask of Seluria, but she hadn't really thought about it until now. "How did you really fight off those attackers yesterday?" Mary asked.

"That was...a defense technique," Seluria said slowly.

"Defense?" Mary didn't quite understand.

"It's not actually capable of really defeating someone," Seluria looked down, "It's supposed to just keep you alive until someone else can come and save you."

"But then...why did you do it if you were going...to not win?" she responded, stunned. If Seluria hadn't stood a chance either, why had she thrown herself into the battle.

"It was...kind of a bluff, I guess," Seluria replied, "Besides, Yamras was there too, remember?"

"Alright," Mary conceded. It was still crazy, the idea that they had been saved by trickery like that. She wondered if she ought to tell Henry or not. There wasn't a reason not to, and it might be useful knowledge to him.

"So, who taught you this...technique?" Mary struggled slightly with the last word, as it was unfamiliar to her.

"My mother." Seluria said slowly. Mary caught the look on the elf's face. She was clearly uncomfortable with this subject. Mary knew it was rude to pry, but her curiosity demanded answering. "All our women learn such things," Seluria continued.

"Uh...could you show me?" Mary had to ask.

"No," Seluria answered flatly.

"Why?" Mary was confused.

"Well, these clothes don't allow a heck of a lot of movement," the girl pointed out. Mary had to admit, looking at the faded dress Seluria was wearing, that was likely true. Dresses weren't designed for physical mobility, after all. "Besides..."

"What is it?" Mary drew back, trying to figure out what this was about.

"I...don't like it," Seluria looked hesitant, avoiding Mary's gaze.

"Why?" Mary found herself asking again, "Doesn't it...keep you safe?"

"No," Seluria sighed, "It just means they won't try anything...unless you can't fight back. Like when you're sick, or asleep, or..." The elven girl trailed off, looking down.

"Or what?" Mary pressed the issue, ignoring a twinge of guilt.

"Or...with child," Seluria's voice was nearly as quiet as a whisper.

Mary took a step back, horrified. They wouldn't...they targeted people like that? While she had thought Seluria had suffered mildly living among her people, and pitied her, this...was monstrous. Compared to this, the things Henry had told her about the rougher side of Amestraton seemed like paradise - and those had frightened her at the time.

"I'm sorry," Mary stepped forward and put her hand on Seluria's shoulder. Why was it that every time she talked to Seluria, she felt more and more sympathetic towards her?

"Don't be," Seluria said, "It's okay. It's not your fault, after all."

* * * * *

"Excuse me, but we need to go," Michael said from the doorway of the dining hall, interrupting Yamras.

"Ah, alright. Let's go then," Yamras slowly walked to the door, and followed Michael out. Henry shook his head, thinking about everything Yamras had just said. While the dwarf was right to be paranoid, he was looking for threats in all the wrong places. Being scared of the elves - a distant threat most likely far from here, was pointless.

The real danger was the city council and whoever was holding Councilman Williamkin. Thinking about it, Henry found it increasingly likely that the council was behind it after all. There was no other explanation why they had not sent guards to investigate, let alone involve themselves...unless they already knew about it.

But it didn't make any sense that way. There was no reason why the council would do such a thing, when a more direct approach would work equally well. No matter how he analyzed the situation, there seemed to be something logically flawed with the idea the councilmen had done this. The more Henry thought about it, the more frustrated he became.

There had to be a detail he was missing, and he didn't like the idea of being ignorant. No matter, as he wouldn't have to deal with this situation much longer. Henry stood up and flexed his arms slowly. He really ought to do his stretches soon, even if they were bad for his injury. Perhaps he'd ask Seluria's opinion, seeing as she had most likely been the one who treated his wound.

* * * * *

Mary shook her head at what Seluria was telling her. "They actually think that way?"

"Yeah," Seluria sighed and looked away. Mary didn't blame her, as the subject made her feel bad...and she had never had to deal with any of it. It was no wonder the elven girl had sounded almost grateful for her forced exile.

"But..." Mary tried to put it into words, but couldn't do it. "I'm sorry," she managed to say, knowing she was repeating herself pointlessly and unable to do anything else.

"I told you, it's not your fault," Seluria protested again, "It's okay...really!"

Mary wasn't the least bit certain of that, given Seluria's earlier reaction. Obviously it bothered the girl a great deal. However, Mary decided that she'd been pushing this a little too far, and chose not to press the issue farther.

"Alright," Mary said, "Now if you excuse me, I've-"

The kitchen door creaked, and Mary turned at the same time as Seluria. Henry was standing there, looking around before his gaze settled on the elven girl. "Can I speak to you?"

Seluria shot a glance at Mary. "Go ahead, I can take care of things here," Mary said, feeling oddly disappointed that the girl wouldn't be around to help her. She was getting too used to having Seluria around. She'd just have adjust to the fact that the girl would not be there.

Seluria sighed and followed Henry out of the room. Mary turned back to her work with a sigh, not exactly thrilled with the prospect of cleaning all the dishes herself...

* * * * *

Henry led Seluria to the parlor. He looked around, taking in the room. He couldn't deny one admission any more: Councilman Williamkin, whatever else his faults, was a man of good taste. But enough of that, he had business to tend to.

"What did you want?" Seluria asked bluntly.

"How long before my arm heals?" Henry responded with equal bluntness.

"Several days, I guess," Seluria relaxed slightly, her relief obvious to Henry. Clearly she had expected this conversation to be about something else. "I wish I could be more sure, but I'm not that good at it..."

Either way, Henry didn't particularly like that answer. He would have preferred the recovery to go faster, so he could get back to work sooner. He needed every worthing he could get and then some, especially since circumstances had forced him into this position before he had been ready.

"Alright, thanks," Henry nodded at Seluria and left, thinking hard.

He barely heard her response of "No problem." Henry had much more important things to worry about other than Seluria. His future was very much on the line, after all.

* * * * *

Mary looked around the bedroom of Robert, taking it all in. How many times had she cleaned this room, and all the other rooms with it? Skimming over everything with her gaze, she knew she was being unreasonably nostalgic. She didn't care. While Mary understood that they would not leave yet, probably not until tomorrow at the earliest, she had to do this.

She hated and loved this house, and what it represented. Even though she wanted to be free of it, Mary knew that she wouldn't forget it, or any of the people who lived here. She shook her head, glad Henry wasn't around to see her acting like this. He'd tease her about it at the least, and criticize her as a fool at the most.

And he'd be right, Mary admitted. She had cleaning duties to tend to, even though they weren't really necessary. It was likely the last time she could do something like this for Michael, so she ought to do a good job with it. One final cleanup to pay her debt, and then she could move out. That, at least, was better than standing around and becoming more nostalgic.

* * * * *

Henry was standing in the front hall when Michael and Yamras entered the house. At least they hadn't been attacked, which was reassuring. Less so was the fact that they seemed to be deep in an argument.

"Lad, you cannot just give up on him like that," Yamras protested.

"I wouldn't if I had a choice," Michael shot back, "Someone had to take charge, and even though I didn't want to..." He paused for a moment before continuing, voice low, "...I was the only one who could."

They both stopped in the middle of the hall, neither noticing Henry standing there. He found this both amusing and annoying. Like most people, they really didn't pay much attention to their surroundings. Of course, they had tended to treat Mary this way too, so this wasn't really a surprise to him.

"Stop thinking your beard is longer than it is," Yamras scowled, "The guild would work fine on its own."

"Then why wasn't it?" Michael retorted. Henry was amused; so Councilman Williamkin hadn't even bother to set the guild up to run in his absence. That should have been expected. "You were there, Yamras," Michael's frown deepened, "You saw the backlog of paperwork, orders to be filled out, goods to be sold and distributed."

"Bah, and you think this makes it alright for you to just take charge?" Yamras snorted, "It might be a problem, but you're a little young, and there are people better suited already there."

"You're one to talk," Michael said angrily, "You may be older than my father in years, but you're still young for a dwarf."

"Lad...this isn't about me!" Yamras exploded. Henry winced, not happy about seeing the dwarf get so angry yet again. "Face it, you don't have what it takes!"

"Like you do either!" Michael shouted back.

This was getting ridiculously juvenile, and Henry decided he needed to step in. "Enough arguing," he told them, stepping forward. They both froze, apparently neither of them having been aware their conversation had been observed.

"Uh...fine." Michael muttered, and departed a second later. Henry guessed he was heading to his room. Yamras stood there for a minute, still visibly upset, then left too. Henry shook his head. While he didn't like Williamkin or the other councilmen, he did not envy having to sort this out.

Perhaps he ought to warn Mary of their bad moods, though. She might be able to calm them down, although he was beginning to suspect this was going to end badly. An odd thought occurred, that this could really cause major problems for Amestraton in the future. While that wasn't his concern, it bothered him more than he thought it should.

Of course, Henry realized, it would not do well for him to be linked to any such problems. He definitely needed to talk to Mary then, as hurting his reputation at this point would be very bad. Nodding, he left the front hall in search of her.

* * * * *

Mary turned at the sound of the door opening behind her. Turning, she saw Henry standing there. "Michael and Yamras have returned," he told her, sounding slightly bitter.

"What's wrong?" Mary asked.

"They were arguing," Henry stated. Mary shuddered, hoping desperately that Yamras didn't lose his temper. It was no wonder Henry seemed annoyed.

"Arguing about what?" Mary frowned.

"Apparently Williamkin's absence was not good for the traders' guild," Henry explained, "I think Michael plans to take charge."

That made some sense to Mary at least, seeing as Robert had planned for his son to take over. Still, it was hard to believe that Robert hadn't prepared for an event such as this. And why would Yamras be opposed to Michael trying to deal with the issues? She didn't understand, but thankfully soon enough, she shouldn't have to.

It didn't make her feel much better about the situation though. "So why would Yamras object?" Mary found herself wondering out loud.

"I don't know," Henry said, and Mary believed him. Mentally, she berated herself. For all the facts she knew about the politics Robert was involved in, she really didn't understand the reasoning behind most of it. She really ought to know better.

"About Michael," Henry continued.

"What is it?" Mary was curious.

* * * * *

Henry was suddenly unsure of how to phrase this. It wasn't easy, trying to say what had just occurred to him without being offensive. If it were anyone by Mary, he probably wouldn't have bothered to consider his words.

"How much do you think Michael hates his father?" he finally said, settling on a simple question.

"Hate? He doesn't hate his father," Mary frowned, "They don't get along sometimes, but they care for each other..."

While that view was valid, as Mary had known them almost her whole life, Henry suspected there was more to it than that. He couldn't completely blame Michael, as this whole affair did indicate, if nothing else, that Williamkin was incompetent. Not that he should have expected anything else of one of Amestraton's councilmen, but he had listened to Mary sing the praises of the man enough to make him wonder if he wasn't so terrible like the rest.

Mary was still somewhat biased in this regard, although not as bad as she used to be. It was good, Henry noted to himself, that she had a better grasp on the truth nowadays. He could remember the argument they once had over the city council...but that wasn't important right now.

"Henry?" Mary asked, making him cringe as he realize he had gotten lost in thought. At least it hadn't happened in a more dangerous situation. He couldn't afford that sort of distraction.

"Alright," he said, making up his mind, "I'll talk to Yamras about it." It would probably be the only way he could get more information. Henry suspected that the knowledge might prove valuable, otherwise he wouldn't have any reason to bother trying to sort this out.

"Try not to make him more angry," Mary advised, half-teasingly. Despite her tone, Henry could tell she was still worried...and with good reason. Nodding, he exited the room, heading for Yamras's room.

* * * * *

The kitchen seemed empty to Mary as she prepared to fix dinner. She was beginning to run out of ideas...most of the time she fixed food, she had been told what to cook. Deciding on her own was much harder than it ought to be. She was old enough that it shouldn't be a problem, and yet it was. Sighing, she settled on roast chicken like she had made a few days ago. No one would object to that, and it was definitely better than pork.

She began to wonder if she should resume preparing midday meals. While Robert seldom requested them, they didn't take too long, and for Mary that meant not having to prepare as large a dinner for the evening. She shook her head, realizing that she'd been thinking as if she was going to remain her in this house.

Still, it would probably be a good idea to do it for Henry's sake. From what she knew, he didn't particularly eat well. That, at least, would have to change. Besides, Mary admitted, she couldn't stand the thought of eating the kinds of food he normally did. At least he went to the Three Brothers fairly often, so he was eating decently that way.

But worrying about Henry's food would not help her fix the current meal, so she eagerly got started.

* * * * *

Henry was greatly frustrated. He'd searched the entire house, and there had been no sign of Yamras anywhere. If he had gotten so angered that he'd stormed out again...this was beginning to verge on being comically sad. Why would the dwarves appoint someone like Yamras to serve as the go-between for Pordrin and Amestraton, he had no idea.

Perhaps it was like Seluria's case, with the dwarves getting rid of a potential problem. Given Yamras' temperament, that would not be surprising. Of course, Henry had no way of knowing, but it was as good a guess as any. If it was true, Henry wondered if Councilman Williamkin knew about it. He doubted it.

He headed back to the parlor, and found Seluria standing there. "Where's Mary?" she asked.

Henry frowned, not certain whether or not he should answer. There was no need to be too antagonistic though. "The kitchen," he answered.

"Oh," Seluria said, slumping back. Henry figured she was annoyed with herself for not realizing it earlier. She headed for the door to the room.

"Wait," Henry said, bringing the elf to a halt, "Let her do it herself."

"But..." Seluria protested, "I have to help her. Her father's death..."

Henry sighed, not wanting to have to go over this argument again. "I told you he would have died either way."

"You don't know that," Seluria said accusingly, "What makes you think it couldn't have been better off if I wasn't here?"

"What makes you think it could?" Henry responded simply.

"I...don't know," Seluria admitted, "It's just...I'm tired of everyone saying nothing is my fault...when I know I did it."

So the elves believed that ridiculous notion. Henry put aside that thought, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. He hardly liked the idea of having to deal with a young girl's confessions, elf or no. It was damn difficult enough to deal with his and Mary's problems. Giving advice like this was not something he was used to doing.

Still, he had to answer somehow. "Some things are, and some things aren't," he tried to explain, not certain how he sounded, "You have to know which is which."

"But...it was my fault," Seluria insisted.

Henry shook his head, knowing this wasn't working out. He definitely was no good at this, and Seluria did have a point...she was responsible. Perhaps he ought to try a different approach.

"Perhaps you're right," Henry told the elf, "However, there are probably better ways to make up for it." He gestured with his still-bandaged arm, hoping Seluria got the point.

She apparently did, as her eyes widened slightly. "I understand, but...you and Mary will be leaving soon."

"Then make it up to the councilman or Michael," Henry said, "Mary's father was their butler, after all."

"Okay," Seluria let out a breath, and then departed the room. Henry was glad that was over, as he hated the idea of being called on to deliver such a speech. Knowing Mary, she'd probably comment on it by saying it was straight out of a ballad or something like that. While he hadn't listened to many ballads, Henry couldn't help but admit that could be the case. Of course, the fact that she had him thinking in the same terms she did was a problem in itself...

But enough of that; it was time to resume searching for Yamras. Perhaps there was someplace he had missed...or he had simply missed seeing the dwarf. He doubted it, but it was better than standing around doing nothing like he had most of today. Sighing, he headed for the door.

* * * * *

Mary set the food on the table, wondering where Yamras was. She didn't want to think of the possibility that he had left the house again out of anger, but it occurred to her nonetheless. However, she might as well ask about it.

"Where is Yamras?" she said, looking around the table. Neither Michael nor Seluria said anything.

"Not in the house," Henry told her, frowning. Mary felt like saying something inappropriate, but refrained from doing so. The dwarf was beginning to frustrate her, to the point where she considered the option of letting Yamras know of her displeasure. Not that she would, of course. Mary understood that was just about the worst thing she could do. The best thing was just to let him calm down.

Letting out a breath, Mary sighed. "Well, more for the rest of us," she said, forcing another joke despite her irritation. Why Yamras was recently so easily angered, she had no idea. There wasn't much point on dwelling on it though, as it wasn't a problem for her to solve. Although she wished she could, Mary knew better than that.

Taking a seat, Mary began to eat. At least the food she made was as good as ever, she noted. If there was one thing she knew how to do, and do well, it was cook...regardless of who was around to enjoy it.

* * * * *

Henry flexed his arms as he entered his room. No, that was wrong, he thought as a surge of pain flowed through his left arm, making him grimace. This had never really been his room. It was just a guest room really, with Mary's father dead. At the moment though, his arm was probably a bigger concern than what the nature of the room was.

At least Seluria had changed his bandage right after dinner, which indicated more understanding than most of the people Henry knew. He'd seen them leave wounds untreated or crudely wrapped up, and he knew the results of that. They all claimed they couldn't afford to actually treat it, and they all ended up paying even more for what resulted. And all the while, they claimed they were particularly careful about their health.

A knock on the door drew his attention. He turned and opened it to see Mary standing there. She entered the room, and immediately went over to the desk and began searching it. Henry was baffled, not understanding what was going on.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Mary stopped and looked up. "Sorry," she said sheepishly, "I was so intent on searching, I...didn't pay attention to you."

"Searching for what?" Henry had to ask. He had no idea what was going on here.

"Mementos," Mary explained, "Keepsakes...anything that my father kept that used to belong to him or my mother."

"Oh," Henry understood. While he personally had never seen the point of such, he'd never had any such keepsakes to begin with. "Do you need help?" he asked, despite not knowing exactly what she was looking for to begin with.

"Alright," Mary looked up at him, obviously grateful. Henry nodded and moved over to look at the desk.

* * * * *

Mary couldn't believe that there was nothing. She and Henry had gone through the room quite thoroughly, checking everywhere from the desk to under the bed. No letters, no portraits, and no sign of anything related to the lives her father and mother had led.

It frustrated her to no end. The only people who might know something - Robert and Sarah - were not here. It was also unlikely she would see them again, a thought that made her feel guilty again. She took a breath and sighed, and resumed searching. There was no reason for her to beat herself up, after all. She'd done nothing to set their kidnapping in motion; it wasn't her fault.

Henry sighed as she knelt down by the bed again. "I don't think there's anything to find," he told her. Mary knew he had to be wrong. There had to be something here, some object or remnant of the past.

She kept searching, but found nothing. Mary grunted as she stood up, admitting defeat. She had no idea why her father wouldn't keep something for the sake of memories, but that's how it was. She shook her head, not wanting to believe that her father had been the sort of person who didn't care about the past.

"You should rest," Henry advised. Mary's shoulders slumped as she realized he was right.

"Alright," she sighed, straightening up. "Thank you for your help." Leaving the room, she slowly walked back to her own room, feeling somehow sad. At least she knew of this mistake, and she could prevent herself from making it. That was cold comfort, given the situation, but it was all she could think of.

* * * * *

Henry stretched as he exited the room he had slept in. For some reason, it was difficult to avoid thinking of it as his room, despite his personal admission that it wasn't. Not that it mattered, as he wouldn't be there any longer.

His arm felt much better today, barely aching at all. The injury must have been less severe than he or Seluria had originally thought. That was good, as it meant he could probably go ahead and move out today. Also, it meant Henry could take another job sooner, which would be of great use. They would need the worthings.

Entering the dining hall, Henry paused at the sight of Yamras. Apparently the dwarf had returned late last night, after the rest of them had gone to sleep.

"Hey, lad," Yamras greeted him. Henry frowned, resisting the urge to speak his mind. He was beginning to get annoyed at the dwarf constantly calling people lad and lass. For some reason, it came off as dismissive. Of course, the other dwarves had spoken the same way. It was probably just a dwarf thing, one he thankfully wouldn't have to deal with any more.

"Hello," Henry said, then took a seat. He had just settled down as Michael entered the room.

"So you're back," Michael stated coldly. Henry wanted to punch the young man for his lack of tact, but said nothing.

"Bah, you're grumpy," Yamras noted, "And I was thinking I might apologize to you."

"Apologize?" Michael snorted, "About time."

"Don't be uppity, lad," Yamras narrowed his eyes, "I might have been wrong, but that doesn't make you right."

"Obviously," Michael noted. Well, that confirmed it, Henry thought. He definitely wanted to leave today, given that this sort of in-fighting was starting to become common.

Yamras took a breath. "Look, your father meant well. It's just-"

"Meant well?" Michael laughed bitterly, cutting the dwarf off, "Much good that did."

"Lad?" Yamras asked, clearly confused.

"No excuses," Michael shook his head, "It does not matter if he meant well, or not. What matters is what happened. And what happened...so many problems he caused." He gritted his teeth, looking down at the floor.

Henry noted he was being ignored again, which bothered him more than it should. It wasn't a big problem though, and he listened in intently. This information could be of use, after all.

* * * * *

Mary walked into the dining hall to see Yamras and Michael standing there, glaring at each other. Surely they weren't arguing again...but that was probably the case. Mary came to a stop, and she felt a slight impact as Seluria, following her closely, was too slow to stop herself.

"Sorry," Seluria said. Mary half-nodded, her attention more focused on the confrontation taking place. Looking around the room, she noticed that Henry was sitting there, clearly unhappy. It was not surprising, given how bad the arguments had seemed to become recently.

"Lad, you can't do that," Yamras finally said, shaking his head.

"I have no choice but to do that," Michael's expression didn't change as he spoke.

"Fine, be that way!" Yamras snarled. He looked like he was about to say something else, but looked around and apparently stopped himself. Muttering under his breath, the dwarf walked out of the room. Mary was aghast...was he planning to leave again?

* * * * *

Henry sat quietly as Mary distributed the food - today, it was some kind of sweetbread - to the people at the table. Seluria took her seat, glancing at Michael periodically. No doubt the elf was just as off-put over the argument as he was, and possibly even more so, given her past.

Mary finished setting the food and drink down. "Excuse me," she said, taking Yamras's food and heading out of the dining hall. Henry didn't think it likely that she would be able to catch him in time before he left the house, but she certainly could try. That was possibly part of being a maid. It wasn't like Henry actually knew all that much about it, other than what Mary had told him.

Speculation on that point was useless, as was much else. He sighed, reminded himself not to lose focus. Right now, the issue was getting out of this insane house. Away from all these arguments, and away from all this danger. After he ate, he'd have to talk to Mary about it, though. Hopefully, she was already prepared for it, in the same way he was.

* * * * *

Mary knocked on the door, hoping Yamras was in this guest room. If he wasn't, it would frustrate her greatly. This whole argument between him and Michael had gone on long enough. She couldn't just sit back and do nothing about it.

"Come in," came the familiar voice. Mary let out a sigh of relief. "Unless you're Michael," the dwarf quickly added, "In which case you can stuff it."

Suppressing the urge to do something uncivilized, Mary opened the door, and then picked up the tray she had set aside. "Oh, so you brought me my food," Yamras took the tray, "Thank you, lass."

Mary stood there and watched Yamras eat, noting that he wasn't particularly neat, as butter dripped off the sweetbread into his beard. He ignored this and ate vigorously, a lot more rapidly than Mary would have thought healthy.

Looking up, Yamras noticed her. "Go eat," he told her, "You need the food and..." He trailed off, studying her silently for a moment. "Lass, I know you're worried about Michael and me," he finally said, "It's not your problem though. You've got your own plans to deal with, and you need to see to them first."

"But..." Mary started to protest, although she wasn't certain what to say. She did agree with Yamras, but the situation just kept making her feel guilty.

"No objections," Yamras wagged one finger at her, "I'll settle my problems, with Michael and Robert, and you settle yours."

"Alright," was all Mary could say to that. There wasn't much point in continuing that argument.

"By the way," Yamras narrowed his eyes, "What are you planning to do after you move in with Henry?"

"Um....I...don't know," Mary admitted.

"Are you joking?" Yamras was incredulous, "You can't just go off and do things like this without a plan! And all this time I had thought you knew what you were doing!"

"What could I have planned for?" Mary found herself asking, "Since at any point that my father or Robert found out about it, that likely would ruin any plans we made." She stopped herself, surprised by how confrontational she had just sounded. It wasn't typical of her to do that.

Yamras frowned slowly, then nodded. "I get that. But you've got to work something out. You can't just depend on Henry to fix everything, lass."

Mary nodded. "I understand," she told the dwarf, still unsure of what she was going to do. But he was right; she couldn't just sit around and be useless. She'd have to discuss this with Henry though, just to be certain.

"Then go eat," Yamras told her. Mary departed, feeling more determined than ever about the move. It would happen, and then they could work it out from there.

* * * * *

As Mary re-entered the dining hall, Henry studied her. She looked thoughtful and somber, which usually meant she was worried about something. No doubt Yamras had most likely eluded her and left again, which would explain it.

So far, the meal had mostly passed in silence, so Henry decided this was an opportune time to break it. "Did you find Yamras?" he asked. He noticed Michael giving him a slightly sour look. Henry pointedly ignored it, not caring.

"Yes, I did," Mary replied. Henry had not expected that answer, but he supposed it didn't matter. Unless, of course, Yamras had deliberately said something to upset her. In that situation, it was absolutely his business.

"Was he...really angry?" Seluria asked, sounding to Henry oddly similar to Mary.

"No," Mary told the elven girl, forcing a smile that he knew had to be fake. However, Mary wasn't one to outright lie, so Henry reasoned that Yamras was not the cause of any worry she felt.

Mary began to eat, but it didn't take long for Henry to see her heart wasn't in it. He definitely needed to discuss these things with her. If it was guilt, as he suspected, he'd have to convince her that nothing was wrong.

* * * * *

As Michael and Seluria left, Mary slowly moved to gather the dishes. It bothered her, perhaps more than it should, that she could not come up with any ideas for any work she could do in the future. Yet again, she found herself cursing her upbringing...her only real skills were cleaning and cooking, and she'd prefer not to do the former.

"Mary," Henry spoke, getting her attention. She had been so lost in though that she hadn't noticed that he had remained in the dining hall.

"What is it?" she asked, setting down what was likely Michael's plate.

"We're leaving today," he stated calmly. Mary wasn't terribly surprised. Given the way Michael had been acting recently, Henry wanting to get out of this situation was natural.

"Alright," she replied, keeping equally calm.

Henry sighed. "What's bothering you?" he said, looking her in the eyes.

Mary let out a breath, not wanting to bring this up right now...but it would have to come up sooner or later. "I'm just worried about what we'll do after we leave."

Henry shrugged slightly. "Well...I'll get some more jobs in a few days," he explained.

"And me?" Mary asked, dreading the answer she suspected was coming.

"You can either stay in the house," Henry answered evenly, "Or you can find some job yourself."

* * * * *

Grateful that the problem had been something so minor, Henry stood there observing Mary. To be honest, he wasn't fond of the idea of her working - it would be impossible for him to react quickly should an emergency come up - but he could hardly prevent her from doing so if she chose. Mary had spent almost all her life repressed in this manner. Henry knew better than to continue that behavior.

He had planned for this all along. Henry had carefully listed, in his account books, totals that roughly approximated what would happen in either case. However, as any intelligent mercenary would, he planned for the worst case scenario. Even if Mary wanted to work, she might not be able to find it so easily.

"I see...you planned for it?" Mary asked. Henry nodded. "I should have known..." Mary looked at him gravely, "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Henry told her. It was actually refreshing, to actually have a problem come up that he had already prepared for in advance. This whole affair had been far too chaotic for Henry's liking.

Mary walked up and silently hugged Henry, and he hugged her back, careful with his arm. Standing here, embracing the one he loved...once again, Henry reminded himself, it was moments like this that made the difficult times worth it.

* * * * *

Mary finished gathering up the last few of her belongings, and looked up at the ceiling of the room. Despite the whole thing apparently being settled, she still couldn't really find it in her to believe it was over. The fact that her father was dead, and Robert and Sarah were being held hostage...she wondered if she could have even have gotten this far had things gone differently.

That was pointless speculation though, and Mary knew it. Whatever had happened had happened, and she couldn't change it now. All she could do was go forward, and keep telling herself not to be upset over things beyond her control. Not everything worked out for everyone, and she knew that fact. Luck was on her side, but Mary wasn't about to count on it to last.

As Mary headed for the door, it opened to reveal Seluria. Mary found it a bit disconcerting that the girl hadn't knocked, given that she normally did.

"Yes?" Mary asked.

"I came...to say goodbye," Seluria said hesitantly.

Mary sighed, not certain what to say to this. She'd always thought that the most difficult - and possibly the most rewarding - part of all this would be saying farewell to her father. But instead, he wasn't here and Seluria was.

"It was nice to meet you," Mary settled on.

"Likewise," Seluria nodded.

A sudden thought occurred to Mary. "What will you do once I leave?" she said, studying the girl's face.

"I'm probably going to take over...your work," Seluria explained, "I don't know if I can do a good job, but I did figure a lot of it our from you. Besides, someone has to do it, right?"

Mary chuckled at the thought. Somehow, she doubted that an elven maid was what Yamras or Robert had in mind when they arranged for her to be here. "Is that really what you want?" she asked, reminding herself of how problematic her life had been.

"I'll be fine," Seluria smiled slightly, "Besides, I still need to work for him, and given what happen, I really do owe Robert that much."

"In that case..." Mary paused, again uncertain. She'd never had to say goodbye like this before. "Farewell,"

"May Arth bless you," Seluria spoke ritually, and Mary felt tears gather in her eyes. Why was something like this so hard? Shaking her head, she turned and left the room for what she hoped, and didn't hope, was the last time.

* * * * *

Henry stood in the front hall, watching as Mary entered carrying her few possessions. It was even less than he thought she would have. He had mixed things over that...it meant his house would be less crowded than he had planned on, but it irritated him how little it was. He set those feelings aside for the moment. He shouldn't have expected better from one of the councilmen anyway.

"Ready?" he asked her, noticing Michael enter the room quietly.

"Yes," Mary replied simply, shifting one of the few bundles around for comfort, "I suppose so."

"Good," Henry nodded, and turned to the door.

"Mary..." Michael spoke up, and Henry half turned back to keep an eye on them. "I hope you have good luck."

"Me too," Mary attempted to joke, sounding half-hearted. "Farewell...Michael."

"Farewell," Michael nodded, patting Mary on the shoulder, "Remember...if you need help, I'm willing to do what I can."

Henry was certain he didn't require such help, but said nothing. The last thing he wanted was word to get out that he was being taking care of by the son of one of the councilmen. A good mercenary could make it on their own, without aid of any kind. Henry, of course, knew he was one of the best.

Michael turned and walked back deeper into his father's house, and Henry opened the front door and headed out, Mary behind him. Looking up at the gray sky, Henry wondered when the real winter snows were going to set in. At least, this made the move easier.

* * * * *

Mary looked around the street as they walked down it. No one paid the two of them any attention. No one even seemed to care about the two. It wasn't like she could expect everyone to know what happened and cheer her on, but this was not at all how she pictured it.

It was really Michael's reaction that was responsible, Mary decided. It wasn't that he really approved of her and Henry, but instead simply sent her out to keep her safe. It wasn't what she wanted, but she supposed she'd have to accept it. She mentally shrugged, and continued down the street, following Henry.

Arriving at Henry's - now hers too - home, Henry stopped. Mary moved to his side to see what it was, and discovered a very large crate sitting in front of the door.

"What's that?" Mary asked. Henry didn't answer, instead moving forward and opening the crate. She walked up to see a slight expression of disbelief on his face. Looking into the crate, it seemed to contain...pieces of wood. She had no idea what they were for, although obviously Henry recognized them somehow.

Looking more closely, Mary noticed a piece of paper on top of one of the pieces of wood. Wondering if it was a note, she picked it up. Turning it over, she found it had all too familiar writing on it...Michael had penned this. She quickly began to read.

Mary, I trust you will find this little surprise to yours and Henry's liking. Consider it one final reward for all the years of service you provided me and my father. Again, I wish you the best. Sincerely, Michael.

While that was nice, it still didn't tell her what it was. She doubted she could move the crate inside, but maybe the pieces were meant to be moved...but what was it? The shape of some of the pieces seemed oddly familiar, but she couldn't quite recall what they reminded her of.

"Henry?" she said, looking over at him, "What is this thing?"

Henry looked up at the sky, a faintly exasperated look on his face, and didn't reply. Mary was beginning to wonder if he was actually going to say anything when he finally replied with a sigh, "It's a bed."

* * * * *

Reading the note Mary had handed him, Henry was quite irritated. Clearly Michael and Yamras had set this up earlier today, during their errand to the traders' guild. Although it did save him money, it created more problems than it solved. The fact that the son of one of the city councilmen had helped them was not something Henry wanted known.

But there was nothing to be done about it now. It would make finding a job slightly harder, as no one who despised the councilmen would want to hire Henry. Thankfully, most of those people tended to offer jobs he wouldn't touch, but nonetheless not having that option was a nuisance. His prior reputation might overshadow it though, so with luck it wouldn't be so bad.

Of more immediate concern was what to do with the large crate. It couldn't be moved easily, even if they took the bed pieces out. He'd probably have to pay for it to be hauled off. Michael really had not thought this "gift" through, which was unsurprising. At least, given the amount he had been paid, he could easily afford it.

For now, he'd just have to accept the bed. "Come on," he told Mary, gesturing to the crate and grabbing some of the wood. Mary walked over and grabbed some too, and they turned towards Henry's house.

* * * * *

Mary finished bringing the last of the pieces of wood in. While it had been nice for Michael to buy a bed frame, something about it bothered her. Perhaps it was Henry's reaction to the gift. He seemed less than happy over the whole deal.

"Need help?" she asked, looking down at Henry, who had began to assemble the pieces. The smaller bed had been dragged to the other side of the house by the two of them, where it now stood.

"Yes," he said, putting a piece down and rubbing at his arm. Mary paled; she had forgotten about Henry's recent injury.

"Alright," she replied, taking the hammer from Henry's grasp. He didn't object to it. Although she had never really used one before, she had seen her father do it, so she had a rough idea of what to do here. "So how do these fit?" Mary asked anyway, deciding that it was better if she knew more.

"Line that one up horizontally," Henry told her, and she moved to comply.

* * * * *

Henry had to admit that Mary did a good job, despite obviously being unused to this kind of work. It made him feel better, knowing that he had correctly figured her as being capable of handling such problems.

On the subject of problems, his arm certainly was one. He obviously couldn't put too much strain on it. Moving the pieces of the new bed frame in, along with moving his former bed aside, had been a little too much for it. He wouldn't be able to take much in the way of work for another few days. While he'd been injured before, and the annoyance as a result never really lessened.

While he ought to work on his account books, he didn't really feel up to it. He had to adjust his numbers to account for the bed, which admittedly made this whole affair a great deal easier, money wise. Fortunately, it wasn't something that had to be dealt with immediately, so that wasn't a problem. He could always do it later, or even tomorrow.

However, one task remained, he noted as Mary finished with the bed. "Time to go buy some padding," he said, gesturing at the empty bed frame.

"Alright," Mary nodded, smiling, "Give me a minute to get ready."

He watched her prepare, suddenly feeling relaxed. Despite Henry's arm and the difficulties that lay ahead, he was satisfied with how things had turned out. Given what could have happened, he supposed that this little affair had a "happy ending", as many of Mary's favorite ballads went. A small part of him commented that it might not be over yet, but he dismissed that notion.

"Ready to go," Mary straightened up, beaming at him, "Shall we?" He nodded, and the two of them headed out the door.

* * * * *

Chapter 11

* * * * *

"So you actually got her to move out?" Charlen asked from behind the store counter.

"Yes," Henry answered. He noted that Mary shifted beside him. He wasn't certain what her reaction to the question would be.

"I'm right here, you know," she grumbled.

"Ah, she's a good lady," Charlen grinned, "Enough to make me miss my wife."

"What happened to her?" Mary sounded worried. Henry glanced at her, realizing what was likely coming.

"Nothing," Charlen's smirk widened, "I said I missed her, didn't I?"

Henry groaned in disgust at the terrible joke. "That...wasn't really funny," Mary replied slowly, "Alright, perhaps it was a little..." She chuckled politely, and Henry knew that her first statement was the truth. She didn't find it to be a good joke either.

"Well, I've kept you two too long," Charlen noted, "So have a good day then." Henry nodded and headed for the door, Mary following behind him.

* * * * *

Walking out of Charlen's store, Mary had to admit the shopkeep seemed nice enough. His pleasant reaction to their success made her feel a little better, even if his idea of humor was lacking somewhat. It was nice to have someone support them in their decision, after all.

Less nice was the fact that Mary had ended up carrying the bag of padding for the bed. While not very heavy, the sack was quite bulky, which made hefting it somewhat tiresome. However, Henry couldn't do it on account of his injured arm, and could only carry the cloth that made up the outer layers of the bedding. Hopefully the wound would heal soon. Mary couldn't just do all of this work herself for an indefinite period.

Not that she was going to complain to Henry. Even though she doubted the wound hurt that much, it was probably for the best that he not exert himself too much. Also, he seemed far happier than any other occasion that Mary could recall. She could live with doing more of the physical work for now, satisfying herself with their happiness. Especially since he had done almost all of the work that had brought them to this point.

"Let's go drop that off," Henry said suddenly.

"We're not going to finish preparing the bed?" Mary blinked. She had expected Henry to want to get that task done first. He really was in a different sort of mood, to act in such an...impractical manner.

"No, we can do that later," Henry explained, "Besides, I figured we could go to the Three Brothers."

Mary grinned and nodded. Going there to celebrate made perfect sense to her, and Henry likely had known that in advance. Also, he probably wanted to go himself, although she doubted he'd ever admit to that. Again, it was something she knew better than to bring up for discussion, at least at the moment.

"Come on then," Henry gestured, and Mary followed.

* * * * *

Henry opened the door to his house and deposited the mattress sacks inside the door. Moving aside, he watched as Mary hauled the large sack of padding inside and set it down as well. Her breathing was a little heavy, and Henry wondered if he had pushed her too hard. But no, it would have been even worse if he had tried to carry it.

Leaning against the crate, he looked at the little house and actually wished, for the only time that he could remember, that he had owned a larger home. Henry knew wanting to change the past was pointless. Even if he had known what he would end up doing, the future would refuse to change. Desire alone meant little without the effort to back it up.

But enough of that; he needed to put such worries to the side and focus on the here and now. He'd been in a good enough mood until he started thinking about that, and he ought to stop. Henry didn't want to ruin Mary's feelings, as she no doubt had long awaited this day, as had he. He shook his head, wondering why he kept thinking that. That focus, to the exclusion of all else, was unhealthy.

Seeing as Mary had apparently caught her breath, Henry decided it was time to set out. No point in standing around outside as the sun lowered. It was far too cold for that anyway, and it would only get colder. Better to hurry, than stand around and wait for the yet-to-arrive snowfall. Nodding to Mary, the two of them began walking.

"So," Mary started as they moved along, "What are you going to eat?"

"I don't know," Henry stated, "But no more wagers."

"You're no fun," Mary commented accusingly. Henry chuckled. He was definitely going to enjoy tonight.

* * * * *

Mary couldn't believe what she was seeing. The Three Brothers stood silent and dark, with no sign of anyone being inside. The door was tightly shut, and likely locked. Mary knew that the lights off could only mean that the place wasn't open for business.

Whether it was permanent or temporary, Mary couldn't tell. All that she knew at the moment was that they weren't eating here. And Mary knew Henry well enough to know he preferred this place over others. While she'd never been to another tavern before, she wasn't certain that anything could compare to this one. And now...

It had to be temporary, Mary told herself. Thomas wouldn't have shut down the place permanently, not when there were customers to be served. He clearly loved his work, and in many ways he seemed a more compassionate version of her father. But that comparison was as useless, as the tavern was completely deserted.

Henry shook his head. "Damn," he muttered, barely audible. Mary, while a bit offended by the word, couldn't argue with the sentiment behind it.

"Well, I guess we can go back and I'll make some food," she suggested.

"Alright," Henry answered, not taking his eyes off the unlit tavern.

"Of course," Mary commented, suppressing an urge to giggle at her own joke, "You have to stop staring at the tavern first."

Henry snorted quietly, but finally turned away. "Let's go then," he said, setting off at a rapid walk. Mary, taken off guard, hurried to catch up.

* * * * *

Henry was disgusted at himself. If he hadn't been inside that house guarding Michael and Seluria, he would have known about this in advance. Just a few days there, and he'd become that isolated from what was really happening.

No wonder Mary came off as naïve on occasion. Given what happened to him, he was beginning to think she was actually better informed than most people in her position would have been. If this extended to the councilmen as well, it clearly explained why so many of their decrees seemed out of touch with what would actually benefit the city.

Back on the subject of Mary, Henry had noted she didn't seem truly disappointed by this, despite her loving the tavern. Of course, she was probably hiding her feelings, for Henry's sake. Additionally, she liked cooking as well, so she was probably enjoying that opportunity. Henry admitted to being curious to what Mary would do with the few things he had.

Well, she could work on the food, and he could work on his account books. He remembered showing Mary one, and her reaction was to claim that she could make no sense of what was written there. He'd have to be the one to manage the money, because that was what he was suited for. As for her, she could do whatever she was best at, which did include cooking.

* * * * *

Mary glanced through the cabinets curiously, noting Henry didn't keep a lot of spare ingredients. She wasn't even certain how fresh some of them were, but there was nothing that could be done about that now. Later, she reminded herself, she'd have to go buy the freshest ingredients. Henry shouldn't have any objections, given that he preferred good food.

She'd have to settle for a potato stew, although she didn't know how it would taste without the spices the recipe normally had, let alone the other ingredients. In addition, the tiny pot Henry had paled in comparison to the kitchen at Robert's house. She'd just have to make do, and hope for the best. It couldn't possibly be too bad, after all.

Looking over at Henry, she noticed he was hard at work writing in an account book. She couldn't read his handwriting, so she could hardly help him with that. He took it quite seriously, more seriously than even Robert had appeared to take guild business. Of course, Robert probably had plenty of people working under him to handle that sort of thing.

Mary sighed, putting thoughts of Robert out of her mind. That was behind her, and ahead of her was her life with Henry. It was what she had wanted, after all.

* * * * *

Henry took a bite of the stew. It was good, although not anywhere near what they could have eaten at the tavern. Folding one corner of the page, he closed the account book and began to eat in earnest. It was still good stew, and made the more impressive that Mary had came up with this despite his admittedly limited ingredients. A part of him wanted to just buy better ones for her to work with, but he knew he could hardly afford that.

But at least now he could ensure that good food was readily available, which was beneficial because the Three Brothers was the cheapest tavern in Amestraton. It had been the only one that cost no more than it took to prepare a meal at home; the other taverns charged more. In fact, had they not made the decision to have Mary come here so soon, he likely would have been forced to cook his own food.

Not that Henry was bad at it, of course. Like any good mercenary should, he possessed a very wide array of talents and skills. However, there was difference between knowing how to do something and being able to do it well. Henry was willing to admit, that when it came to cooking, such a gap existed between him and Mary.

"Is it good?" Mary asked uncertainly, pausing between taking bites from her own bowl of stew.

"Yes," Henry replied, "It is." If it hadn't been, it likely would have been his fault anyway. Mary certainly wouldn't have ruined the dish, so a bad result would only come about from spoiled ingredients.

"I thought so," Mary smirked, "The way you were eating it, I wasn't certain I'd get an answer out of you."

"Alright, I'll eat slower then," Henry stated, then added, "Just so you can be certain."

"You..." Mary burst out laughing then. Henry chuckled and resumed eating.

* * * * *

Mary finished stuffing the mattress. Idly, she wondered if she should have mentioned something about this to Seluria. As far as she knew, none of the mattresses in Robert's house had been replaced in years, and it might have been a good idea to do so. It probably didn't matter, she told herself, as the elven girl would eventually figure it out.

"You done?" she asked, turning to Henry, who had been working some more on the account books. Mary was beginning to think he was a little obsessive about them, but then again he had put them off in order for them to go to the tavern. She had known about it before, anyway. It was just that...there was a difference between being aware of something and seeing it first hand.

"Mostly," Henry told her, clearly focusing more on the book than on her. Mary sighed and turned back to the bed, and began putting the blankets on it. It was a good thing Henry had extra blankets, as the larger bed took more than most of the beds Mary had worked on.

Finishing, she immediately began changing out of her dress. Although she was slightly embarrassed to do so in the same room as Henry, he wasn't paying attention anyway. Putting on her nightclothes, she wondered why she even felt that way. After all, she was going to be spending her life with Henry, so she needed to get used to this.

"Alright, done," Henry said, and she turned to see him approach. They embraced each other, Mary taking pleasure in this moment. Why couldn't life be more like this? No, she knew better than to start along that line of thought. It would only make her feel bad again.

"Let's sleep," Mary moved back away from Henry, sitting down on the bed.

"Good plan," Henry nodded, stepping forward to join her.

* * * * *

Henry slowly sat up to see Mary already at work, cooking again. He must have slept in, as he knew that he normally rose well before she did. Then again, he guessed he needed the sleep.

"Arm feeling better?" Mary asked, turning. He guessed she had heard him shifting on the bed as he had awoken.

"Yes," he told her, flexing it. It felt surprisingly much more mobile. He could probably start looking into taking a new job tomorrow.

"Why don't you take off the bandages?" Mary suggested. Henry inwardly cringed; he should have thought of that before. Sighing, he unwrapped it to reveal an jagged line down his arm, still scabbed over. It would probably leave a scar, but that was not of any real concern.

"Oh..." Mary looked hesitant upon seeing his arm, "Perhaps you should...put on more bandages."

Henry chuckled, agreeing with her. Reaching under the new bed, he pulled out a small crate and began to unravel some more bandages. While these were somewhat cruder than the ones available in Councilman Williamkin's house, they would more than suffice.

"So what are you making?" Henry asked as he wrapped up his arm.

"Just some porridge," Mary sighed, "We really need to go shopping for more food."

Henry didn't like the idea of visiting Charlen's store two days in a row, but he knew he couldn't rely on other shopkeeps. "Alright," he conceded, "We'll go get some food." It would have been nice if they could have bought it last night, he thought, but that would have been too difficult between the two of them to carry both the food supplies in addition to the mattress padding.

But that was done, so Henry focused on the present. Standing up, he began to change clothes, hoping he would be finished by the time food was ready.

* * * * *

Mary reflected, as they left the house, that she really shouldn't try to make porridge again. She wasn't certain whether it was a result of her not having made it in years or not, but it had turned out very poorly. Both she and Henry had trouble eating it due to the taste, despite the fact that they needed It was a bit shameful, not being able to prepare food of her normal quality.

"You feeling alright?" Henry asked. Mary blinked, and then realized she'd been acting absent-minded again. It would probably be amusing to someone else to see her like this, she thought, but she wasn't happy about it.

"Fine," she responded, resuming walking.

"I'm sorry I asked," Henry grumbled.

"Wait...no," Mary realized she'd been more curt than she intended, "I should be sorry." She wasn't certain why she had acted that way.

"Apology accepted," Henry patted her on the shoulder. While she didn't doubt that he was being sincere, her own actions were something to be ashamed of. She'd have to do better in the future.

As they walked, Mary noticed the sky was growing more clouded. It was odd, as she'd never really paid much attention to that sort of thing before. Knowing Henry, he probably already knew about it. She really needed to improve her own abilities. Before, she had thought she would have plenty of extra time, but the attacks and the suddenness of their decision meant she couldn't possibly be ready to deal with the things Henry dealt with.

It wasn't anyone's fault...well, except perhaps her father's. But Mary knew blaming someone for it was pointless and changed nothing. For now, she had to fact the future...and Henry, at least, would be there to help.

* * * * *

"Back again?" Charlen said amusedly upon seeing Henry and Mary enter the store, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you just love being around me."

Mary chuckled politely, while Henry gave the shopkeep a sour look. He knew better than to take Charlen seriously, despite the man having an almost magical knack for being mildly annoying. Still, Henry knew Charlen would never go so far as to do something that would drive a customer off. It was merely teasing, and he could tolerate it.

Mary moved to the shelves and began browsing them. Henry, having decided she would better know what to buy, left her to it and walked up to the counter. It was as good a place and time as any to begin gathering information about what had happened in the meantime.

"Any news?" he asked Charlen quietly, glancing around. Thankfully, the store was empty except for Mary, and she wasn't paying them any heed.

"Nothing major," Charlen's expression grew serious, "Been a little more backlash on the streets lately over the traders' guild and the deal with the dwarves, but I doubt it'll ever come to anything. Just people grumbling."

And he couldn't make any money off of that information, Henry noted. However, he suspected there was more going on than just that. "Anything else?" he spoke, leaning forward against the counter.

"Well...there's a rumor going around about an attack on the house of Councilman Williamkin," Charlen shook his head, "I'm guessing that didn't actually happen. Obviously, you're here, and the little lady too, so..." He gestured at Mary.

"Yes, we are," Henry stated, refusing to acknowledge the blatant attempt to get information out of him. He was not about to indicate his involvement to anyway, even including someone he trusted more than most, like Charlen. Not that it mattered in the long run, as that information would be revealed anyway. He just had to uphold his image as a mercenary.

"One more thing..." Charlen sighed, "I also heard one of the councilmen is funding research into some old machines or something." He shrugged, then continued, "Wish I knew more about it, but it could be of use."

"Right. Thank you." Henry nodded.

"No problem," Charlen grinned, "Or it won't be if you buy enough of my goods..." Henry groaned again.

* * * * *

Mary found it amusing that Henry clearly didn't think she could hear their conversation. It wasn't that he was trying to specifically exclude her. She knew he was just being cautious. Now that she was beginning to get some actual impressions of what he had referred to as "being subtle", Mary found it laughable.

Of course, that could explain Henry's seeming disdain for most other people's abilities, if he had gotten away with this for so long. Perhaps she was ignorant, but it seemed there were more covert ways to go about finding information out. Then again, the whole reason she had met Henry was one such attempt, so Mary supposed she couldn't complain.

At this point, she was just really waiting on Henry to finish talking to Charlen. She'd already selected the food she thought they needed and placed in the cloth sack she had brought. Hopefully it wouldn't cost too much. Mary had tried to avoid buying anything really expensive, with the view that she could always improvise if she had to.

It felt oddly liberating, to be able to be this freeform in her cooking. With her father constantly looking over her shoulder, Mary had been expected to do everything a certain way. While occasionally she had found ways around it, she had always had to keep watch to make certain that it wasn't discovered. But now that was one worry that didn't bother her.

"Are you done?" Henry asked, walking away from the counter.

"I've been done," Mary smirked, "I was waiting for you."

"Wait," Henry frowned, "I was the one waiting on you."

Mary burst out laughing, unable to help herself. What fools they were, she thought as she nearly doubled over. Henry sighed and rolled his eyes, but Mary could tell he was just as amused, even if he didn't show it.

"Alright then," Henry said firmly. Stifling her laughter - it felt good, to laugh like that - she headed to the counter with the sack.

* * * * *

Walking home from the store, Henry was feeling good about how things were going. Of course, he had to be wary. He'd known several people who had let rampant optimism get in the way of thinking clearly, and the results...had not been very pleasant. Not that it meant things were likely to go to ruin either. Henry knew that he just had to be prepared for every eventuality.

"What the..." Mary said as they approached his house, coming to a stop. Catching up to her, Henry noted that this was not an eventuality he could have expected. "A dog?" Mary murmured.

"Looks that way," Henry studied the small dog, standing in front of the house with its tail wagging. Something about it seemed familiar to him...could it be that same dog that belong to Councilman Richardkin? It certainly looked similar, although he couldn't know without checking more closely.

"Did you feed this dog?" Mary asked, turning to face him.

"Well..." Henry thought back a minute, trying to recall if he had fed...what was that dog's name again? Silver, he remembered suddenly, and groaned. He had fed her, and no doubt she had run away and come to the one place she knew she could get food.

Seeing Henry's expression, Mary laughed, "I should have known. You've gone soft."

"It's...more complicated than that," Henry wasn't certain how to phrase this, as it was quite embarrassing that he had made such a simple mistake before.

"Alright...so you can tell me once we get inside," she smirked, moving towards the door, and Henry followed The dog, seeing them, barked a couple of times and ran partway down the street, then stopped and barked again. Henry was confused by the behavior. He would have thought the dog would have wanted more food, but apparently that was not the case.

"It wants us to follow it, I guess," Mary said. Henry wanted to slap himself for not realizing it sooner. Part of him wanted to just go inside and ignore the thing, but he was admittedly curious about where a councilman's dog might want to go. And he knew exactly what side Mary would likely take, so the decision was clear.

"I'll explain it to you later," Henry told her, "I'm going to see what's the issue with this dog."

"Alright," Mary nodded, then added, "Don't take too long." Henry nodded back and headed down the street, causing the dog to take off once more.

* * * * *

Inside the house, Mary began to sort out the groceries. It took all her effort to focus on that, due to her curiosity about that dog rising rapidly. This wasn't like life back in Robert's house, where the most she had to do to find out anything was press her ear to the door and hope her father didn't catch her. Then again, recalling her eavesdropping in the store, perhaps it was that simple, or even more so.

It was strange, realizing how little difference there was in the way things work. Mary supposed that she'd always seen Robert, as a councilman, handling things in a better way than most people. He was no different, of course, but it never really had struck her until now. Of course, it could be partially due to the fact that she found the whole council affair pointless.

Finishing putting the groceries away, Mary sighed and walked over to Henry's desk. She might as well start trying to figure out what his account books actually said. That would be useful information to have in the future, especially if Henry ended up taking a job that led outside Amestraton. He'd probably want her to make a note of if she spent any money, and it would be simplest if she did it the same way he did.

Reading through the first few pages, Mary grimaced. So many little notes and details...this would be even harder than she had thought. But she wasn't about to back down from this, after everything she had gone through. She continued to read, studying it closely. If the left column there was profits...no, wait, that didn't make sense due to that note on the side. But it wasn't expenses either...by the Three Saints, this was frustrating.

She'd have to get Henry to explain it. Mary wished she could learn this sort of thing on her own, but she admitted in this case she was out of her depth. She wished she could just leave it all to Henry, but at the minimum she had to learn something about his methods. Mary sighed, and set down the book. All there was to do now was to wait on Henry.

* * * * *

The dog led Henry to a warehouse that looked abandoned. There being no obvious clue about it, Henry had no idea of who owned this building. But given that Silver had led him here, it most likely was part of Councilman Richardkin's holdings. Which, of course, made him wonder what he would find here.

The small dog ran up to a hole in the base of the wall, barked once, and crawled in. So the dog had it's own way in...now Henry had to find a way inside too. If he guessed correctly, the entrance was to his right around the corner. Naturally, as he walked around there, he came upon the large door that led into the building.

Testing the door, Henry found it wasn't even locked. Opening it confirmed what he had thought: this warehouse had been abandoned for some time. Of course, that raised the question of what the dog had found here. Probably some toy or something to play with. It was also possible that someone was actually using this place as a home. Henry had seen people do that before in desperate times.

Looking around, he noted the building was dimly lit through the windows. The whole place was just a single open space, with one closed door to his right. If he guessed correctly, the dog was in that room...along with whatever she had found. Walking up to the door, he tested the handle and found it, unsurprisingly, locked.

"Is someone there?" a man called out from the other side of the door. So it was a kidnapping plot he'd stumbled upon. Henry thought a moment, then made a decision.

"Just wait," he spoke up, hoping the captive got the message. A bark from inside the door confirmed the dog was there. Of course, the dog knowing about this place likely meant Richardkin himself was involved. Normally Henry would not get involved, but given the lack of guards, these prisoners probably weren't important.

He'd never really had an opportunity of this variety before, and he might not do so again. It was the right thing to do, it possibly would aggravate one or more of the councilmen, and there was the possibility of a reward as well. Henry grinned to himself, and quickly began to pick the lock. It was a good thing he was in the habit of always carrying a nail or two for many purposes, this being one of them.

It had been a while since he'd actually picked a lock, so it took him a while to open. Finally the door opened, revealing an older man, shirtless and wearing tattered trousers. Behind him was a woman, who looked even older and more tired. Silver was jumping around at their feet and barking loudly. Henry hoped the dog didn't draw too much attention.

"Thank you," the man said hoarsely.

"No problem," Henry nodded, "So, who are you?"

"Robert Williamkin," the man said, "I am...I used to be a city councilman of Amestraton."

"Sarah Ellenkin," the woman said, coughing.

Henry looked up, trying to figure out how this was even possible. While he had seen more strange things than most, he'd never encounter such coincidental circumstances such as this. Whether it was beautifully perfect luck, or the worst possible chain of events, he wasn't certain anymore.

Perhaps Mary could explain this better than he could. It was a bit too far for them to walk to their home, given their condition. Since it was a fool's notion to remain in the warehouse any longer, his house was the best destination for now "Let's get out of here," he told them.

"Lead the way," Williamkin replied. Henry inwardly grimaced as he realized they didn't likely know what Mary had done in the meantime. This could turn out badly, but he had no other feasible options at this time. He'd just have to trust in everything to sort itself out.

* * * * *

Mary turned as the door opened, glad that Henry had returned. Hopefully he could explain the account books to her and...stunned, her jaw dropped as she saw who was following him.

"Rob...Robert?" she blurted, stunned by his appearance here. What was going on here, and what had that dog found?

"Mary?" the older man blinked, "What?"

"Mary, is that you?" Sarah, letting go of Robert, moved forward and embraced her. Mary didn't move, still trying to figure out what was happening. How had Henry found them, how would they react when they learned what she had done...she could barely think straight.
"I think...we need to talk," Robert said faintly.

* * * * *

Henry realized this situation was going nowhere fast. Mary was completely flustered, Ellenkin was just holding her tightly and quietly crying, and Williamkin was studying the two suspiciously.

"Take a seat," he said, gesturing to the chair. Williamkin promptly sat down, and Henry gazed at him for a bit, trying to decide how much to tell the man.

"So then, I will get straight to the point," the older man frowned, "How do you know Mary?"

Henry had expected that. While it would have been logical for Councilman Williamkin to try and find out about the guild status first, he'd already figured that the man wasn't all that logical. Few were, of course, but it was a sign that Williamkin was unfit for his position.

"I've known her for a year," he replied simply, "We met in a tavern."

"So she has been sneaking out for that long?" Williamkin's response was incredulous, "I highly doubt that."

"It's true," Mary replied, moving out from Ellenkin's grasp. The older woman sat down on the bed, while Mary gazed down upon Williamkin.

* * * * *

"But why?" Robert asked, staring at her.

"Because I wanted to...I wanted to make my own choice," Mary said. She had made her decision, and she had planned for this day to come, thinking over and over of what she would say when confronting her father and Robert with the fact that she planned to leave. While she had hardly pictured it happening like this, this was what she had - a chance to assert why she had chosen this.

"So you were sneaking out to meet various thugs and scoundrels on the streets?" Robert protested, "You are a fool if you think that random dalliances with ruffians is ever a good idea."

"What?" Mary was stunned by the accusation. She had never...she wouldn't even ever have considered the idea. "That's not true...I love him...he..."

"Should I believe that?" Robert asked softly. She wasn't certain how to answer him. In fact, Mary realized, there probably wasn't an answer she could give that he would find believable.

"I don't know," said softly, looking down.

"Well, I cannot stop you," Robert's voice was suddenly sharp, "But I advise you think twice about this. If you-"

"Enough," Henry interrupted.

* * * * *

There were much more important matters to discuss, and Henry knew attempting to debate the whole issue with Williamkin would just waste time. It was already obvious Mary wouldn't be able to convince the councilman of anything at this point.

"Very well," Williamkin scowled, "So...is Michael alright?"

"He's fine," Mary looked down, "Or at least, he was when we last saw them yesterday."

"You weren't there?" the older man looked startled, "That...never mind. And Yamras? And the elf?"

"Both are fine," Mary said. Henry was beginning to wonder why he would bother asking when he would soon find out for himself. Then again, he probably was trying to alleviate his ignorance, something Henry couldn't fault him for.

Also, he noted that Ellenkin did not say anything, looking at Mary sadly. Henry figured the older woman probably disagreed with the way her husband was acting, but wasn't about to criticize it. How pointless

"Well, then, we need to get back to the house." Williamkin noted with a yawn, "Would you kindly escort us there...what is your name?."

"Henry Tylaris," he replied automatically, not certain why he felt it necessary to tell the man his full name.

"Very well," William nodded, "Sarah?"

"I...I'm ready," the older woman said quietly. The two moved to the door, and Henry followed...and he heard Mary moving up behind him.

"You don't have to come," Henry told her, turning to face her.

"Yes," Mary replied, "I do."

* * * * *

Mary had her own reason for wanting to accompany them. She knew that Yamras was likely the only one who could possibly convince Robert that she was doing the right thing. She knew Henry would likely object if he knew. Of course, he might figure it out anyway. Knowing Henry as she did, he probably already had done so.

"Very well," Henry said after studying her for a moment. Mary sighed in relief, grateful that Henry was giving her this opportunity.

Following them out the door, she clenched her fists, trying to figure out why Robert would act the way he did towards Michael and her. It was almost like he didn't think they were smart enough to make those choices. While Mary was naïve, it wasn't as if she would be able to move away from that without learning on her own.

Was this really what her father had wanted for her? Mary didn't know, but she suspected that Robert might be doing this out of some sort of respect for her father. She did remember seeing them discussing various topics on a number of occasions. Perhaps that was the reason for Robert to choose to talk to her...

Mary shook her head, unhappy with herself. She shouldn't try and make excuses for Robert's behavior. No matter what reason he had done it, it was wrong, and she had to get him to understand that. And Yamras, as she had previously noted, was her best chance at doing so.

Coming up to the doors of the familiar house, Mary noticed that something seemed different about the place. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she hadn't really seen it from the outside much, but it seemed more foreboding somehow. Sighing, she walked up as Henry strode forward and opened the door to Robert's house.

* * * * *

"Oh...Henry...wait...what?" Seluria, who had apparently been in the front hall, was completely flustered by the appearance of Councilman Williamkin and his wife.

"Can you go get Michael?" Henry asked wearily, not wanting to get further into problems.

"Yeah, I can," Seluria nodded, then took off. Mary came in, giving Henry a slightly amused glance. He knew what it meant, and understood the sentiment. Seluria made for an...interesting maid, that much was certain.

Eventually Michael came downstairs, Yamras and Seluria both following behind quite rapidly. "Robert!" Yamras barked out, grinning ear to ear, "You're alright!"

"Yes, I am," Williamkin replied tiredly, "Can you help Sarah upstairs?"

"I'm fine," Sarah protested, coughing. Henry didn't believe it, and could see no one else did so either.

"Right," Seluria moved forward and began to help her upstairs. Henry noticed Mary quietly following them. No one else seemed to pay her any heed. No matter, if Mary wanted to discuss things with Seluria, that was her decision.

"We will discuss things in the parlor, "Williamkin declared. Yamras nodded, and he and Michael followed the councilman to the parlor. Henry started to follow, but changed his mind. He didn't need to become more involved in the council affairs. Leaning against a wall, he settled in to wait for Mary to finish whatever she was doing.

A sudden poking sensation drew his gaze downward. Apparently Silver had followed them all the way here, and he hadn't even noticed. Henry was irritated with himself for not having noticed the little dog. Even though he had been distracted by the problems with Williamkin, that was no excuse for failing to check for the dog.

He bent over and scratched Silver behind the ears, thinking for a moment about what to do about Silver. He might could afford her, but it would leave him with fewer reserves for if things went bad. Of course, there were other considerations than financial ones to ponder. At least he had plenty of time to do so, at least until Mary returned.

* * * * *

"So, you enjoy being a maid?" Mary asked casually as Seluria exited Robert's bedroom.

"Not really," Seluria admitted, "But it's a heck of a lot better than my old life. I can see why you didn't like it though."

Mary chuckled, "Trust me, you'll like it less when you've done it for years."

"Good point," Seluria grimaced, "So...how did you find Robert anyway?"

"A dog did," Mary shrugged, not knowing how to better explain it to the elven girl, "Henry just followed the dog and..." She paused, trying to remember what happened to the dog after that. If it had gotten shut up inside Henry's house...the mess it made would be a problem. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

"Is it the same dog that followed you in before?" Seluria stretched, yawning. Apparently the work was tiring her out.

"No," Mary told Seluria, still not certain of how Henry knew of that dog. She supposed she'd get answers about it later, when this was all settled. For now though, she had a more important question. "What have Yamras and Michael been doing in the meantime?"

"I'm...not sure," Seluria said, "They were talking about not giving something...refuns? I didn't understand."

"Refunds?" Mary asked, thinking that was the word.

"That's it," Seluria frowned. Mary thought a moment, wondering if this was about the traders' guild being required to pay back to those who were robbed. If so, that meant Michael planned to defy the city council. Mary swallowed, suddenly very frightened about what Michael might do.

"What's wrong?" Seluria looked concerned.

"It's nothing," Mary answered, trying to compose herself. It was only a possibility, not a certainty. It was most likely that something else that the elven girl was talking about. It wasn't as if Seluria was able to fully explain it anyway, so she could be misunderstanding.

Suddenly, she heard shouting coming from the lower floor of the house. While she didn't always trust her hearing, Mary thought she heard Yamras's voice. She began moving rapidly, determined to find out exactly what was going on.

* * * * *

Henry moved closer to the parlor door. It wasn't hard to overhear what was being said, given that none of them were even attempting to be quiet.

"...a reason why I set things up that way!" Williamkin's voice rang out, "If I did not, the council could replace me tomorrow!"

"That might be," Michael matched his father in terms of volume, "But you've got to understand that as long as you do that, you hurt Amestraton!"

"Better that they are hurt for a few days," the councilman retorted, "The alternative would be a lot worse!"

Mary ran up, with Seluria following behind. Henry shook his head, making a gesture for the two to remain silent.

"You think those are the only two choices?" Yamras sounded incredulous, "Bah, I don't agree with all the lad's thoughts on the whole thing, but he's right on in that you're only causing more problems than you solve."

"So now you would side with him?" Williamkin voice echoed, "My predecessors and I have fought long and hard to keep the city council from turning Amestraton into their own private plaything! I swore not to let that happen, and it never will as long as I am head of the guild! You think you are better judges of how to do that than me?"

Neither Michael nor Yamras seemed to answer that, leaving the house quiet. "I think you two better get out of here," Seluria's voice filled the silence, sounding scared but determined.

"Alright," Henry answered, not about to dispute the matter. It was clear that none of the people here were likely to be rational, Seluria excepted. He really didn't want to get involved in this more than he already had.

"But..." Mary began to protest, then sighed, "Alright, fine." Henry wished he could do something for her, but whatever she had hoped to accomplish by coming here wasn't going to happen.

"Goodbye, you two," Seluria smiled faintly. Henry nodded, and headed for the door, Mary behind him. A pattering sound of paws on the floor told him Silver was following too.

* * * * *

Mary hated to admit it, but it was apparent that Robert would not be reasonable. She should have known better than that. Given what Michael had done, it was natural that his father would be furious. It was unreasonable though, given that Robert was in the wrong here.

Either way, it hurt her deeply to know that what she'd done would not be accepted. It wasn't fair, having gone through it all. While Mary knew that she should be happy that she got what she wanted, for her it wasn't enough. She supposed she just wanted that acceptance, had wanted to show her father and Robert that she had found a better way. But now that would never come to pass.

Why did she really want that so badly? Mary admitted to herself that she was surprised by how much it actually pained her not to have Robert's acknowledgement. She had thought that simply moving in with Henry was enough. She had told herself that time and time again when things looked bleak. But that wasn't the whole of it, and now she saw that.

Thinking about it, Mary was reminded of Charlen, and of Thomas, both of whom had supported her and Henry. Perhaps...she should just accept support for her choices wherever she could find it, instead of expecting Robert to give it to her. It didn't exactly make her feel better, but Mary knew there was nothing to be done about it, regardless of her wishes.

A bark startled her out of her reverie. She turned to see the same little dog, staring at Henry with its tail wagging. Had it followed them all this way? Mary couldn't be certain. She knew she hadn't seen it around before. Then again, she had been thinking about this whole issue and not paying attention. This is what she got for letting herself be surprised so readily.

"What will we do about this dog, Henry?" she asked, a little worried. She didn't know where it came from still, and there was no telling how Henry felt about it, although he didn't seem to mind it too much. Still, as she reminded herself, caring for something didn't necessarily mean the same thing to everyone...her father had been proof of that.

Hearing no answer from Henry, Mary asked again, "Henry, what about this dog?"

* * * * *

Silver was definitely a problem, and Henry wasn't certain there was a good solution. It was clear the dog wasn't about to stay with Councilman Richardkin. While he could probably sell the dog, if Silver ever escaped there was a good chance she would make her way back to Henry somehow.

There wasn't much choice then. Henry would probably have to keep her...which meant he would have to recalculate his finances again. If only Silver were trained for tracking, he could have made use of that to make some of the worthings back. But he doubted the dog would be willing to track people down, other than those who had fed it.

While dwelling on the subject, Henry had to wonder exactly why the dog had gone back to Williamkin. He couldn't imagine Williamkin actually feeding Silver, given that as captives he and his wife had probably not been given any large amount of food to begin with. He doubted they would have given some of that meager supply up, especially to a dog they had never met. So either Williamkin or Silver had acted in a strange way. Not that it mattered overall; it didn't change what Henry was going to have to do.

Henry shrugged, and turned to Mary. "We'll have to keep her, at least for now."

"Really?" Mary looked surprised.

Henry just nodded. While he could easily take it to a shop and sell it, Henry knew the fate of those dogs was often grim. He doubted Mary would be alright with such a decision, and he certainly wasn't about to hide the truth of that from her should the matter come up.

"Why not sell her at a shop?" Mary asked, making the matter come up. Henry rolled his eyes, wondering if coincidence was the governing factor in his life.

"If a dog takes too long to sell," he explained, "They end up killing it."

"That's...horrible," Mary looked shocked, "Why...oh no..."

"What's wrong?" Henry wondered what was going on. He didn't know of Mary having any connection with a dog in her past. She'd never mentioned that before.

"Nothing," Mary said slowly, "Let's just go home." While Henry was curious, he wasn't about to pry. It had been a rough day for her, and he was willing to let this one go.

* * * * *

Mary was dismayed to find out what happened to that dog who had come by Robert's house. Her father couldn't have known that would happen...could he? She'd never know now. Of course, as with many things, she knew she wouldn't likely have been able to learn it when he was alive. For Mary, that was the saddest part of her father's death.

Not again, she sighed as she entered the little house after Henry. How many times, she had to question, would she think about her father's death? She sat down on the bed, slumping over and feeling frustrated with herself, with everything. Mary sighed heavily, not certain what she should do.

'Alright," Henry said sternly, turning, "What's really wrong?"

"It's..." Mary stopped herself from reflexively saying that same thing as before. She owed Henry honesty. "It just made me upset about something my father did once."

Henry rubbed his head with his hand, "A dog, right?" Mary nodded, not trusting herself to speak about it. Henry walked over to the bed and embraced her. Mary sighed, gradually relaxing as she returned the gesture.

"So," she said as he released her, deciding to change the subject, "What's the deal with Silver?"

"She belonged to another of the councilmen," Henry told her, "I managed to return her for a reward, but apparently she liked me better."

"What?" Mary was incredulous. "Was it...Councilman Richardkin's?"

"How did you..." Henry paused, obviously thinking, "Wait...did your father find a different dog and think it was Richardkin's?"

Mary nodded, trying to figure out how in the world things were this strange. It made less sense than a drunkard's ballad, as the saying went.

Henry groaned, glancing over at Silver, who was napping in the corner. "Really," he grumbled, "You'd think things weren't this arbitrary." His expression grew more gentle as he looked back up at Mary, "Don't you?"

"I don't know," Mary replied, not exactly certain how to respond to that. She decided to change the subject again, "But...are you certain we're going to keep Silver? You could turn her in for a reward again." She didn't mean to imply a lack of trust, but it didn't seem like typical behavior from Henry.

"I wish it were that easy," Henry sighed, "I had enough trouble getting the reward from them the first time." He looked like he wanted to say something else, but kept silent. Mary suspected that he would have ranted about the councilmen being unreliable. She didn't particularly want him to go over his views on that again.

She yawned and stretched, feeling very tired. She couldn't sleep now, as she would probably have to start preparing food soon. Whether it was here or Robert's house, cooking would always be one of the things she enjoyed the most. And if she didn't prepare it...she knew for a fact that Henry had a bad habit of eating less than he needed.

Henry didn't miss the yawn. "Get some rest," he told her. Mary wanted to object, but she was feeling tired. Perhaps a short nap would do her some good, before she prepared food. She lay herself down on the bed, and closed her eyes.

* * * * *

Henry shook his head as he looked over Mary as she began to snore gently. Not that he was going to tell her she snored. After all, she would be highly ashamed to find something out like that. He'd never understood why it was seen by many wealthier people as such a rude sound, but then again, he wasn't like them. Nor did Henry want to be.

Walking over to his desk, Henry sat down and began thumbing through his account books. He hoped Silver wasn't one of those choosy dogs, who would refuse to eat certain foods. He planned on the cheapest option, and if Silver didn't like it...that wouldn't work out well. While there might be some room for adjustment, Henry knew it couldn't be afforded if her diet got too expensive.

He supposed a test was in order, then. Getting up, he went and got out a piece of dried meat. Quietly moving over to the where the dog was sleeping. Silver raised her head, looking at him, as he knelt down. He offered her the piece of meat, hoping this worked. The dog sniffed at it once, and then began to gnaw at it happily.

Henry sighed with relief and returned to the desk. It was nice for something to turn out better for once. Unlike the whole affair with Councilman Williamkin, which was nothing but a massive disappointment. He hadn't gotten any worthings out of it, and given what Mary had gone through, he was definitely not going to take any more jobs working for Williamkin or the other councilmen again. As Henry had told himself before, the payments - whatever they were - weren't worth it.

It didn't take long for him to finish making the adjustments to the accounts. He sighed, realizing that his financial situation was less ideal than he wanted. Henry estimated roughly two months before they ran out of money. He'd have to get a job, and preferably soon.

That was a concern for later. For now, Henry knew he needed to eat some food soon. While Mary would likely scold him again for eating the dried meat, he wasn't about to awaken her for the sake of one meal. She'd earned her rest, and Henry had no intentions of denying her that.

* * * * *

Sitting up, Mary tried to collect herself. How long had she been asleep? Looking around, she saw Henry quietly sitting at his desk, chewing something. Oh no, she realized, ashamed...she had slept through dinner time. She had planned on fixing a meal, something special, but it wasn't going to happen apparently.

"You're awake," Henry commented.

"You should have woken me," Mary was distinctly unhappy. She had wanted to cook something tonight...nothing was going right for her today.

"I'm sorry," Henry said quietly, "I just thought you needed rest."

"It's alright," she said, getting up and hugging him. Mary knew Henry had meant well, and that was what mattered in this case. Besides, she'd have plenty of opportunities to cook. She probably had needed the nap after all.

Letting go of Henry, she then moved over to the cabinet. Mary had to eat something, even if she didn't cook anything. She'd probably have to end up eating the same dried meat Henry looked to be eating now. She made a face, making certain to look away from Henry first. She'd never liked this meat, the couple of times that she had tried.

This time, Mary thought as begin to eat, was no different. The meat was as salty and bland as she had remembered it. From now on, she swore, she definitely wanted to cook the meals.

"Bad, isn't it?" Henry commented, "Told you before, you'll get used to it."

"No, I won't," Mary responded.

"Yes, you will," Henry said with a straight face.

"No, I..." Mary couldn't help herself, and burst out laughing. Henry knew exactly how to make her feel better, and that was worth it. She supposed it didn't matter if the food wasn't all that good, as long as she shared it, and good times too, with Henry.

* * * * *

Henry slowly sat up, sighing. He was still getting used to sleeping next to Mary, who made the bed warmer than normal. Of course, normal was a relative idea, and he would adjust soon enough. After all, it would be something they would do, hopefully as long as they lived.

Silver put her paws on his leg, surprising him slightly. Reaching down, Henry began to scratch the dog's ears, thinking about what he should do next. His arm felt good, so he probably could start looking for a job today. So a visit to the mercenaries' guild was due later today. He could probably check up with who was hiring.

"Morning already?" Mary asked sleepily, sitting up behind him.

"Yes," Henry answered, wondering briefly if Mary had slept well. Given her question, and the nap yesterday, she might not have. "Get some more rest," he told her.

"No..." Mary yawned, "I have to fix food." She stood up...and promptly nearly tripped over Silver, who had moved around the bed to see her. Henry barely caught her as she stumbled.

"Are you alright?" he asked, wondering if something was wrong - seriously wrong - with her.

"Sorry, I...wasn't paying attention," Mary took a deep breath, steadying herself as Henry released her. She reached down and petted Silver apologetically.

"Alright then," Henry sighed, and headed over to change his clothes.

* * * * *

Having finished fixing some flatcakes, Mary was still trying to figure out why she had been so clumsy when she awoke. It wasn't like her to do something like that. While not particularly graceful, she'd never been particularly prone to stumbling over objects.

Perhaps she was letting it bother her too much. Mary knew people occasionally made mistakes, and she was no exception. But even so, she needed to do better than that. It was something she'd have to consider in depth, at a later point.

"Do you know how to make something besides flatcakes?" Henry asked calmly.

"I could make that wonderful porridge again, if you want," Mary responded sarcastically, before covering up her mouth. Why was she acting like this again?

Henry chuckled, "Alright, alright." Mary sighed, glad she hadn't made him too angry. She shook her head; she ought to know better than that. She was falling back into her old habit again.

"So, what's the plan for today?" Mary asked, trying to sound positive.

"I'll go see what jobs are available," Henry answered.

"Your arm's better then?" Mary asked, surprised. She hadn't really expected it to heal this quickly, but then again she knew little of injuries. Although based on what Seluria had said, it was likely too soon anyway. Mary wasn't about to stop Henry though. They probably needed the money, or something along those lines.

Henry nodded, "I won't push myself."

"You'd better not, or I'll...do something," Mary finished, her attempt at a joke failing. Henry grinned at that one, seemingly amused in spite of it.

* * * * *

Henry left the house in good spirits. Despite everything not going right at all yesterday, the future was looking bright. He knew this was untypical of him, being so optimistic, but he couldn't having a feeling that today was going to be a good day.

People were beginning to walk back and forth, and Henry knew he had to get going before the streets got too crowded. A part of him just wanted to stay here and savor this moment, somehow of the mind that it would only get harder from here on out. While that might be true, it would be worth it, as he had told himself many times and would likely tell himself many more.

Setting out, Henry headed down the street. He couldn't afford to let emotions like that prevent him from doing what needed to be done. And that meant getting to the guild. Idly, he wondered if they had hired a new clerk...but that was pointless speculation. Focusing his mind, he walked on, as the sun slowly rose in the sky above Amestraton.

* * * * *

Chapter 12

* * * * *

Walking into the guild, Henry was surprised to see the new clerk was a woman, and a Southerner at that. Not that Henry had anything against women, but few of them tended to stand up to the pressure of dealing with mercenaries, who tended to treat them in...certain impolite ways. Either this woman was very brave, or didn't know about that detail.

Slightly chubby, she sat behind the desk with a neutral expression on her face at the sight of Henry. "Can I help you?" she said, clearly bored. Given that they were the only two here, Henry couldn't blame her. The winter was always slow for business.

"Just checking the job board," Henry told her, moving over to it. She didn't respond, which suited Henry just fine. He moved over to the board, searching for jobs. It didn't take him long to spot the one he sought. It was a simple supply run to a local lumber camp. It would be easy enough to do, and the four hundred worthings of payment looked good.

Taking the notice, he headed back to the desk and began to fill it out. It didn't take long, as usual, and he handed it over to the woman.

"You're...Henry Tylaris, right?" she asked, uncertainly. Henry nodded, not certain he liked where this could go. While normally he didn't mind people recognizing him, it was usually because he had dealt with them in the past. This woman, he was confident, had never spoken to him in his life. Unless his memory was failing him for once...that was a disturbing thought.

"If you're taking this job, I...have a request for you," she said quietly, looking down. She seemed hardly the type of person who could work with people, Henry noted.

"Go on," Henry told her.

"There's a mercenary at this camp, guarding it," the woman explained slowly, "Could you deliver this to him?" She produced a piece of paper. Henry took it and started to read it, only to be stopped by the clerk's sudden attempt to grab it back.

"Please don't read it," the woman asked.

"Very well," Henry shrugged, knowing better than to try to satisfy his curiosity. "What's this man's name?"

"Erik," she said, "I think he said he knew you."

Henry shook his head, not knowing what to think. Why would this woman...suddenly the pieces fit, and he caught onto what was going on here.

"You love him," he stated flatly.

"Uh...please don't tell the guildmaster," the woman said, "I already lost my job as a weaver because of this."

Henry doubted that the head of the mercenaries' guild would actually do anything about this. In fact, he would most likely support such a relationship. Not that it would stop accusations of bias, which would be problematic. Either way, he had no intention of revealing this little secret.

"Very well," he said, "I'll do it."

"Oh, thank you," she nodded. It occurred to Henry that he didn't even know her name, but he didn't care. He wanted to talk to Erik anyway, regarding him approaching Mary about that job when he delivered those supplies. It would be interesting to find out Erik's reason for doing so, when it likely did not benefit him in the least.

"Now, about this job..." Henry said, returning his attention to the paperwork.

* * * * *

It wasn't easy figuring out what to do, Mary decided. She'd thought about trying to go over the account books again, but just the thought of it gave her a headache. She found herself missing the books she liked reading.

Perhaps she ought to go introduce herself to the neighbors, Mary thought, before laughing that one off. Henry had already told her what kind of people tended to live here, and she was certain she didn't want any part of them. While she supposed she would have to deal with them eventually, Mary was not looking forward to that.

She needed something to occupy the time. Mary sighed, and began going through Henry's clothes, determined that if nothing else, she could mend any torn ones. It was definitely preferable to sitting around with nothing to do except pet Silver, who was lazing about. Mary wondered if all dogs were normally this relaxed.

She sighed, and turned her attention back to the clothing. Pulling out a shirt, she noticed a tear in one of the sleeves. There we go, Mary thought, at she began to look for some thread. Something she could readily handle, and it would help Henry.

* * * * *

Henry handed the paper over to the woman. "Thank you," she said.

"Uh...your name?" he asked, not wanting to be stuck in a position of being unable to locate her after he returned.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the woman sighed, "My name is Aliah."

"Very well," Henry replied, "I'll see you when I return." He nodded to Aliah, and headed for the doorway.

"Henry," came a different voice from behind him. Henry whirled and turned to see John Anthonikin standing there. The guild head himself very rarely came out of his office, so Henry was surprised to see him there.

"Oh, sir, excuse me," Aliah spoke rapidly, "I didn't see you there."

"Don't worry." Anthonikin nodded at the woman, then turned back to Henry, "Could we speak in my office?"

"Alright," Henry said, not exactly thrilled with the delay, but aware it would be detrimental \- not to mention rude - to refuse to talk with Anthonikin.

"Let's go then," Anthonikin said, and Henry followed, really not wanting to have to do this. He'd rather get back to Mary and his house as soon as possible.

* * * * *

Mary was a bit worried about the knocking on the door. Henry had told her once he didn't normally get visitors, so she was worried. Who could it be now? Moving quietly over to the door, she grabbed at the nearest object, ready in case of problems.

It was, to her surprise, Thomas. "Come in," she said, seeing a startled look on the older man's face. He'd obviously been expecting to see Henry.

"Mary," he replied, "I...didn't expect you to be here."

"I didn't plan on it myself," Mary forced herself to smile, feeling a little nervous, "I guess...things happened." She wasn't certain how to explain all that had happened otherwise.

"We could both say the same then," Thomas nodded, and entered the room. He took a seat, and studied her for a minute, a slight frown on his face. "So," he finally said, "I take it your father was agreeable when he found out about Henry?"

"Not exactly," Mary paled, trying to figure out how to explain this. She didn't want to be forced to reveal Seluria's existence, even to someone she trusted like Thomas. Perhaps she could use the original theory they had thought of. That way, she wouldn't be forced to tell him about Seluria. But Mary didn't want to lie about it either...she didn't know what to do.

"What happened?" Thomas asked, looking concerned. He apparently had read her face, or something. Henry had commented on that once, about how easy it was to tell what she was feeling. Mary shook it off, focusing on the conversation at hand.

"My father...he's dead," she said quietly.

"What?" Thomas leaned back, stunned, "But...how?"

"Someone...tried to kill Councilman Williamkin," Mary made her decision, deciding to tell just part of the truth, "My father ended up being poisoned..." She trailed off, unable to continue. This was partly due to the subject still being painful, but being dishonest made it even harder. She had lied to her father before, but why was it so hard to do so to Thomas now?

"I'm sorry," Thomas closed his eyes briefly, wincing, "At least you made it out alright. That's better than what could have happened."

Mary nodded, knowing that much was true. "And what about you?" she changed the subject, "I know you shut down the tavern, so...what happened?"

Thomas sighed, "Enough gabbing about you, huh? Alright, I'll get to the point. You see, because of these taxes..."

* * * * *

"Take a seat, Henry," Anthonikin instructed. Henry wasn't about to disobey the older man, although her wondered what this was about.

"So, you took a job guarding the son of Councilman Williamkin," Anthonikin began, "Then you found Williamkin, who was kidnapped, and brought him back home. Am I right?"

"Correct," Henry nodded, not surprised that John already knew this. As head of the mercenaries' guild, he did have access to plenty of information around the city. It would not even startle him if the man already knew about Seluria.

"You've made some enemies," Anthonikin frowned, "Did you not think that they wouldn't figure it out?"

"Of course," Henry said smoothly. While that was technically true, he hadn't expected them to be putting it together this soon. Of course, he didn't know who had seen him walking around on the streets with Williamkin, so he supposed he should have foreseen this.

The older man sighed, looking over at Henry sadly. "It would be best if you left Amestraton," he finally said.

"For now?" Henry noted, understanding what Anthonikin was getting at.

"Forever," Anthonikin proved Henry wrong. He was surprised; from what he knew, the older man didn't want the mercenary guild to lose anyone like that.

"And if I say no?" Henry dared to ask.

"You know the consequences of that," Anthonikin's voice grew sharp, "I cannot protect you, or anyone you care for."

Henry frowned, then inwardly panicked at the thought of what might happen to Mary. And he had just signed paperwork agreeing to a job outside the city...she would be unprotected. He forced himself to calm down. The councilmen against them would likely be more focused on Williamkin. A former maid and a mercenary would be low on their priority.

"I will consider it," Henry told Anthonikin, "Now, if you will excuse me?"

"Very well," Anthonikin leaned back with a sigh, "Try not to get yourself killed." Henry nodded again, and left the room.

* * * * *

"So you're moving out to Errin Point?" Mary asked. She'd never heard much about that village, other than Robert mentioning it a couple of times.

"Yes," Thomas sighed, "I can't keep business going here, but I heard they don't have a good tavern there. So given how much money Richardkin was offering for me to sell...it was a good deal all around."

While Mary didn't like it, she understood the necessity of it. There wasn't much point in remaining here if he couldn't keep the Three Brothers running. "I'll miss the place," she commented sadly, shaking her head.

"So will I," Thomas crossed his arms, "But I can't win this battle." He paused, looking intently at Mary. "I thought about trying to talk Henry into coming with me," he finally said.

"I don't think he'd agree to that," Mary smiled wistfully at the thought of Henry's reaction, "I...don't think I would either."

"True. Home's a difficult place to leave behind," Thomas replied agreeably, "That tavern was started by my great-grandfather, when the first word of the Plague was spreading. I don't like leaving it, but it's better to keep the business going on elsewhere than to give up altogether, right?"

Mary nodded, suddenly feeling tears in her eyes. She wiped them, knowing that it was foolish of her to start acting like that. "Right," she managed to say.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine," Thomas said reassuringly, apparently misunderstanding. Mary didn't bother to correct him, knowing it didn't matter anyway. It seemed like everything she had envisioned as part of her life with Henry, was, piece by piece, slipping away. No, she told herself, that was ridiculous. She still had so much to look forward to.

"Well, I'd better get going," Thomas said, "Congratulations on moving in with Henry, and good luck."

"Farewell," Mary said, looking down as Thomas left. She sat there, thinking hard about what the older man had chosen to do...and what she had chosen as well.

* * * * *

Henry was irritated as he walked up to his house. It had built up as he had headed away from the guild, the frustration growing within him. As if he would move out of Amestraton now, given all the effort it had taken just to get where he was today. Short of his or Mary's life being at risk, nothing was going to make him leave this city.

Entering his house, Henry noticed Mary was sitting there, petting Silver absentmindedly. "I'm back," he said quietly. He didn't want to startle her, and he was curious as to what she was thinking about.

"Oh...hello," Mary said distractedly.

"Are you alright?" Henry asked. He'd seen her occasionally act like this before, but usually she was quick to re-focus herself.

"I'm fine..." Mary paused, sighing, "No, not exactly. Thomas came by to visit."

"Thomas?" Henry was a bit surprised. He didn't remember ever telling the bartender where he lived. Still, it wasn't like he had tried to keep that information a secret. He had gotten a number of jobs that way. "What did he come for?"

"He's leaving Amestraton," Mary looked down, "He said he planned to open a tavern in Errin Point."

"Errin Point," Henry repeated, thinking rapidly. So that explained why he closed the tavern down...but why there? Everything Henry had heard about Errin Point suggested the small village, lying on the western coast, was...backwards, to say the least. Still, businesses went where the money was...and Henry was willing to give Thomas the benefit of the doubt.

"So, did you get a job?" Mary asked, eagerly.

"Yes," Henry replied tersely.

"Alright," Mary said, "My turn to ask you what happened."

"Do I have to?" he sighed. Henry was not really in the mood to go over what Anthonikin had said again.

"Yes, you do," Mary smiled. Henry shook his head, knowing he couldn't resist that look.

"Alright," he conceded, "I met with the head of the mercenaries' guild."

* * * * *

"Anthonikin is his name, correct?" Mary asked, wondering where this was going.

"John Anthonikin, yes," Henry sounded irritated, repeating that name, "He told me that by saving Williamkin, I angered the other councilmen. He advised me to leave Amestraton."

"So get a job outside the city, then come back," Mary suggested, feeling quite pleased with herself for thinking of this, "Wouldn't that work?"

"That's not what he meant," Henry explained.

"Then what did he mean?" Mary asked quickly, before the answer came to her, "Wait...you mean move out of the city?"

"That was his idea," Henry spat, "As if I'd do that."

Mary burst into laughter. She couldn't help it; the coincidental timing of this with what Thomas had said was too entertaining not to. It was yet another remarkable combination of events. Henry stared at her as she finally quieted down.

"What was that about?" he asked.

"Thomas mentioned something similar," Mary said as she tried to catch her breath, "He wanted you to go work for him, I think."

"I wouldn't do that," Henry stated flatly.

"I told him you probably wouldn't," Mary sighed, not exactly happy that she had been right all along, "He understood, of course."

"Fair enough," Henry said, reaching down and petting Silver. It surprised Mary a little, how integrated the little dog had become in their lives. Then again, Seluria had been a similar case from Robert's house, so perhaps things hadn't really changed.

But one thing did have to change...the subject. "So...about this job..." Mary clasped her hands together.

"Right," Henry frowned, "I get to take some supplies to a lumber camp a day's ride out of Amestraton. I'll leave tomorrow and return the day after."

"Alright," Mary wasn't exactly happy about Henry having to leave, but the choice was out of her hands. If that's what it took to bring home the money, then Henry had to do it. She would support him despite it all. After all, that's how many ballads went, Mary told herself. Why should real life be any different?

"So...got anything special planned for food?" Henry smiled slightly. Mary thought for an instance that it looked forced, but decided otherwise.

"Of course," she nodded, "Let me make certain we have what I need, first." She went over to the cabinet, and began searching through it.

* * * * *

Henry was just starting to relax as Mary began serving the food. He didn't really pay attention to what Mary had fixed. It tasted good just the same. He was more concerned over the journey he'd set out on tomorrow. He'd have to go rent a horse for the job. That was part of the reason the job paid so much. If they paid too little, the cost of getting a horse, even temporarily, would make the whole thing not worth it.

"So, do you like the pasketti?" Mary asked.

"It's good," Henry said. He knew she was trying to make a good meal before he left, and he was grateful. Still, he had other problems to worry about.

"Well then, now I know you're not paying attention," Mary, setting her fork down, sounded slightly sarcastic, "I didn't make pasketti."

Henry looked down, realizing he'd been eating roasted chicken. He wanted to slap himself for that one. How could he have been such an inattentive fool? "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Henry, what's really bothering you?" Mary sighed. Henry was tempted not to answer, but she'd probably figure it out anyway.

"I...don't want to go off on this job," he forced himself to admit. It was the first time in years he'd even seriously considered such a thing. While he had disliked many jobs he had taken, Henry had tolerated it, knowing that being a mercenary, he could do no less.

* * * * *

Looking at Henry, Mary was nothing less than stunned. While he had grumbled before about certain jobs, she knew he would always take them. For him to suddenly actually considering backing out of a job was disturbing. What had the head of the mercenaries' guild told him, to unnerve him in such a manner?

She might as well ask. "Why not?" Mary kept her voice gentle, despite a sudden urge to shout at Henry. She knew how poorly that would work. "We need the money, right?"

"Yes, but..." Henry stared at her, a strange look on his face. Mary couldn't match his gaze, and looked up at the ceiling, thinking hard. She didn't think the guild head would have threatened him directly, so that wasn't likely the issue. Suddenly, an idea occurred to Mary then, one that made perfect sense.

"You're worried about me, aren't you?" Mary spoke slowly, "You're worried that something might happen while you're gone."

Henry started to shake his head, then stopped himself. Silver, obviously sensing something was wrong, walked up and began nuzzling at Henry's leg. Mary wondered just how smart was the little dog, being able to tell when Henry was feeling bad. He looked down, then took a deep breath.

"The other councilmen know I found Williamkin," Henry spoke in a forced voice, scarcely louder than a whisper, "They are...not exactly...pleased with it."

"And you think they might come here," Mary stated. Henry nodded slowly, not meeting her gaze. Mary didn't know if she was more frightened or frustrated at the situation. While before she had admitted that scaring Henry was enough to scare her as well, Mary was beginning to wonder why Henry was acting so...timid.

"Henry," Mary said softly, "I can take care of myself. I handled an orc, after all." She almost smiled at the memory, but stopped herself. The situation was a little too grave for that kind of humor. "Look, don't we need the money since I had to move here sooner than you planned?"

"I know," Henry's voice sounded strained, "But if they do come..."

"I'll deal with it," Mary knew that she likely would have to run if that happened, but she wasn't going to let Henry do this.

Henry shook his head, "But..." Mary didn't know what to think of this. Henry had never acted this way before.

"But nothing," Mary insisted, "You're a mercenary...do your job."

"You're...you're right," Henry finally replied, after a long moment of silence.

"Of course I am," Mary responded, trying to feign an indignant tone, "I learned it from you." Inwardly, she was relieved that it had been settled so readily.

Henry broke into a rough chuckle, and she laughed as well. Sometimes, she surprised even herself with her ability to make other people laugh. Mary resumed eating, feeling much better about how things were going.

* * * * *

Henry was trying to figure out where those sudden doubts had come from. He could hardly be considered a professional mercenary if he gave up on jobs so quickly. Even if Mary was at increased risk as a result, he could hardly back down now.

He'd gotten too used to the idea that Mary would be safe regardless of what he did, Henry realized. Before, no matter where the jobs led him, Mary had always been protected in the house of Councilman Williamkin. But now, that protection was gone, and Henry had to accept that fact, no matter how it made him feel.

Thinking back, he remembered Anthonikin's earlier advice about stopping being a mercenary. Was this why so many people didn't continue to take jobs like this? It made sense that they couldn't bring themselves to deal with the worry that came with having someone they had to guard. Given that he'd almost succumbed himself, Henry couldn't bring himself to blame them.

Again, where a lesser person might have faltered and given up, Henry knew he could continue with this job. And he knew he'd return to Mary, who also would be there for him, when a lesser person would not. He really shouldn't doubt in her, as she obviously believed in him.

Finishing his meal, Henry walked over to his desk. He wanted to make certain his calculations were correct for how much this would pay. He wasn't going to make any more mistakes...for his sake, or for Mary's.

* * * * *

Mary quickly changed into her nightclothes. Looking over at Henry as he went through his book, she was starting for feel the same fear that Henry had undoubtedly felt earlier. She shook it off, telling herself she'd done the right thing. Henry had to do what he could in order to make the money they needed.

She'd have to go look for work herself, tomorrow. Mary knew she'd been sitting around too much, becoming far too relaxed living here with Henry. A small part of her wanted to continue, but she rejected that for obvious reasons. If Henry could put himself to work despite what else was going on, so could she.

"Don't stay awake too much later," Mary reminded Henry. He didn't answer, focused intently on his work. Mary smiled slightly, and walked over to the bed. Laying herself down, she yawned, aware that the days lately seemed longer, despite the onset of winter.

For now, she'd need to get some sleep. There was a lot to do tomorrow, and Mary knew she had to be prepared for it. Idly, she wondered what her father would think of her current lifestyle. It didn't matter, she concluded as she closed her eyes. He was dead and she wasn't, and she had to go on without worrying about what he thought.

She stretched quietly, feeling the warmth of the blankets. Contented, she let herself fall into slumber, knowing that everything would work out. Whatever happened would happen, and they'd deal with it as it did.

* * * * *

Waking up, Henry wasn't surprised to find Mary already up and about. He'd worked on his accounts for nearly an hour before finally joining her in bed. It all depended on how much renting the horse cost. Given that he knew the head of one of the larger such companies, Henry figured he could probably get a discount. After all, he had worked for the man before.

"Feeling better?" Mary asked from across the room.

"Yes," Henry paused, not certain what to say. It was not a sensation he was used to, and he didn't like it. "About yesterday..."

"Don't worry about it," Mary cut him off, smiling, "You worry about too many things as it is."

Henry paused for a minute, before replying, "Perhaps so." It was a bit shameful, to admit he'd forgotten that there were some things you just couldn't plan for. While he'd tried to avoid being in situations like that, Henry supposed it was inevitable that he'd have to deal with it at some point.

"I'll have food ready soon," Mary started to turn away, then stopped, "But first, try to remember something."

"Remember what?" Henry was puzzled.

"We don't have ingredients for pasketti," Mary turned back, but not before Henry saw the widening grin on her face.

"You chose what food we bought," Henry played along, "So don't blame me."

Mary burst into laughter, and Henry smiled. No matter what faced them, even if it was all of Amestraton, they'd find a way through it somehow.

"So, should I make the porridge again then?" Mary joked.

"I'd...rather you not," Henry replied, not able to think of another joke to keep the humor going. It really wasn't his strong point. Up until he had met Mary, he'd never really indulged in any real form of humor. Again, it reminded him how much Mary had changed him, for the better.

"So would I," Mary chuckled, "So...what do you want?"

* * * * *

Mary had to admit, she had partially expected Henry to agree to the porridge, just to spite her. Perhaps his mood had not recovered as much as she had thought. Any improvement would be worth accepting though, so she wasn't about to complain.

The flatcakes were preferable anyway, Mary thought as they finished their meal. Even if they were a little more crude than she was used to, she could tell Henry didn't mind them. It was a shame he didn't like them more, but she couldn't please everyone. Her father, Mary reflected sadly, had been an example of that.

"Well, I'd better get going," Henry said.

"Not so fast," Mary grabbed at him, slightly playfully. Despite that, she seriously wasn't about to let him leave on his own.

"What's the problem?" Henry asked.

"I'm coming with you," Mary told him, "So let me get some clothes on."

"I can't afford two horses," Henry remarked, sounding annoyed, "And one horse couldn't really carry both our weights."

"Oh, sorry," Mary realized he'd misunderstood, "I'm not going out of the city, I...wait, horses?" She had been aware Henry would have to pay for a horse for this job.

"Yes, it will be faster that way," Henry explained, "So I have to rent a horse."

"Alright," Mary was a little surprised, then an odd thought came to her, "Did you have to rent one too for the job Robert gave you?"

"No," Henry noted, "Too difficult to defend something like a caravan from horseback. Also, I'd have to provide food and water...and since I had never been to Pordrin, I wouldn't know where watering holes or such would be found."

"I see," Mary said, then mentally slapped herself when she realized she'd just emulated Seluria. Either way, Henry knew a lot more about this than she did. Mary was seriously beginning to become annoyed all over again at her upbringing. The present was what mattered, instead of past problems or future issues, she told herself firmly.

It reminded her of Seluria, making her wonder how the elven girl was doing. Hopefully Robert treated her well, or at least with more respect than Mary had gotten. It had worked out so well for everyone, despite her father's death. Seluria could pay off her debt, and Mary got to be here now. Now if it continued to work out as well as that, Mary would be content.

"Hurry up and get dressed then," Henry pointed out, "I have to collect the package first, so we don't have time to waste." Mary was embarrassed to realize that she had become lost in thought again. Hurrying, she rushed over to begin getting her clothes out.

* * * * *

Henry knew something was wrong the moment he walked into the stables. They had always been kept neat and tidy, an amazing feat considering how horses tended to leave things messy. But now, the smell of manure was much more distinct, and the straw was scattered a lot more loosely.

"What's wrong?" Mary said as she walked up beside him. Of course, she had likely never been here, so she had no way of knowing what this place used to be like.

"This place is different from when I was here last," Henry turned slowly, the conclusion obvious, "Someone else must run it now."

"Alright then," Mary frowned, "Then where is the person running it now?"

That was an important question, one Henry wasn't certain what the answer was. Looking closely at many of the horses, he could see that most of them weren't in the best of physical shape. Whoever had been taking care of these horses had not been doing a very good job. They needed more exercise than they had been given.

Looking around, Henry's gaze settled on the one truly healthy horse. It appeared to be a brown stallion, standing quietly in the one of the stalls. He'd prefer to take that one, if it was available. Unfortunately, it might not be, which would possibly slow this job down considerably. Henry reached out and rubbed the stallion's head.

It let off a soft neigh, but otherwise just let him do it. Apparently it was at least somewhat docile. That would work well enough. He'd always hated the so-called "spirited" horses, who were nothing but trouble. Henry had once had the bruises to prove it, and he considered himself lucky to get away that lightly.

"I don't think you can take that horse without paying," Mary commented inanely. Henry wondered why she felt it necessary to point out the obvious. Making up his mind, he banged his fist loudly on the side of the stall, making a couple of horses nearby snort in surprise. If someone was here, somewhere, they had to have heard the noise.

* * * * *

Mary stood there, looking around the stable curiously. She couldn't remember ever having been so close to a horse before. While she had passed riders out on the street, that didn't quite prepare her for seeing them in a place like this, where they were very close.

To be honest with herself, she wasn't fond of the idea of being around these beasts. While they were shut up in pens, Mary had heard enough stories about people getting injured around horses to be wary. Perhaps that's why the owner of the stables was not here...wait, that made no sense. No one would have owned horses if they feared the creatures, after all.

A noise made her and Henry turn. It was a young boy, standing there, staring at the two of them with jaw dropped.

"Oh...hello," the boy finally said in an oddly high pitched voice, "You're here to ask about the horses?"

"Yes," Henry answered, looking slightly relieved. Mary guessed he was just glad someone had appeared that he could talk to."

"Alright, wait here," the boy nodded, and headed out of the stable.

"That boy seemed nice," Mary commented. Hopefully the owner of this stable was just as friendly. Of course, given their recent luck - or lack thereof - it probably wasn't going to be that simple.

"Mary," Henry walked over to her, giving her an odd look.

"What?" Mary asked, wondering what Henry was going on about.

"That wasn't a boy," he told her.

Mary drew back, surprised she hadn't realized it. "Oh," was all she managed to say. Looking at Henry, she could tell he was restraining himself from laughing. He might as well go ahead and laugh at the humor of the situation. She certainly deserved it.

* * * * *

It didn't take too long for the stable hand to return, a skinny man following behind her. Henry didn't recognize the man. Clearly his guess about the stables' owners had been correct. A shame, as he would have preferred to deal with Trental over someone he'd never met. Nothing to be done about it, now. Henry knew he had to leave soon, or he risked having to spend an extra night on the road.

"Hello there," the man spoke in a raspy voice, which for some reason bothered Henry more than it should. "Perhaps I can help you?"

"I'm Henry Tylaris," he replied. Something about this man seemed a bit odd, and Henry didn't like it. "I've come to rent a horse."

"Right, right." the man said, "Name's George. I guess you're a Southerner, right?" His tone implied obvious distaste, making Henry frown.

He was not in the mood to deal with this problem all over again. "Can we get on with this?" he asked, knowing he sounded impatient and not particularly caring.

"Alright," George nodded, "We've got a nice horse, just perfect for you, right here." He gestured at a stall containing a horse that Henry knew was far from being fit.

"Nice," Henry snorted, running out of patience rapidly. He didn't have time to negotiate with this fool. "I used to work in a stable. I know what a healthy horse looks like, and that isn't one."

"Perhaps you would prefer to go somewhere else then?" George suggested with a smile. Despite his expression, Henry could tell the man was offended. Which puzzled him, seeing as this man was clearly guilty of deception and knew it.

"Perhaps I would prefer that horse instead," Henry responded, pointing to the brown horse he had noted earlier.

"That horse is not available," the stable owner replied angrily, "Even if it was, I certainly wouldn't let the likes of you touch it." Henry scowled, realizing that this situation was truly a problem. While he could go to another stable, it would probably set him back nearly another hour. It didn't look like there were any other options, though.

"You don't have a choice," Mary suddenly spoke up. Henry was about to admit she was right, but then realized that the words had been aimed at George, not him.

"What?" the man turned to Mary, incredulous. Feeling highly curious, Henry looked at Mary, waiting to see what she had figured out.

* * * * *

"If you run a business that sells something, any thing of type on the premise is available to purchase," Mary explained, feeling a little nervous. She wasn't entirely certain she remembered this correctly. It had been months since she had heard Robert discussing this law with one of the other councilmen. "If one of the horses here is for rent, they all are."

"You...little..." George narrowed his eyes at her, "Exactly what are you going to do about it? The guard has more important things to deal with."

"Perhaps so," Mary spoke, "But I think the traders' guild would be very interested to find out about this. Especially Councilman Williamkin..." Mary let her voice trailed off, and she hoped Henry realized that this had to be a bluff. She knew Robert would never get involved on Henry's behalf, or hers.

"You can't...oh, fine," the stable master spat, "You can take this horse. But don't bring the stallion back, and you'll regret ever coming here, Southerner." He stormed out, leaving Mary standing there with Henry.

"Good job," Henry commented, "I guess we think alike."

"Thank you-" Mary started to answer, then realized what Henry was saying, "What?"

"I pulled that same trick a few days ago, claiming to know someone in Williamkin's household," Henry shook his head, "At the time, it was true."

"Not anymore though," Mary chuckled. Despite the humor, she wasn't entirely happy about having to bluff like that, but she had seen the look on Henry's face, and knew how frustrated he had to be getting. It served this George right for treating Henry like that, Mary told herself.

Henry walked over to the stall gate and unlatched it, opening the door and walking in. Grabbing a saddle hanging there, he began to prepare the horse. Mary looked on as he finished preparing, and then moved out of his way as he led the horse towards the door.

* * * * *

Henry noticed the brown stallion was very well trained. That made this easier, since it had been a while since he had ridden a horse. Most people would have not been able to get back so readily, but his skills remained sharp. There wouldn't be any problems resulting from that issue.

Turning to Mary, he felt the same pangs of fear beginning to rise again. Henry dismissed those, knowing that he would just have to trust in Mary to know to avoid any trouble. She was intelligent enough that it shouldn't be a problem.

"Stay safe," Henry told her.

"I was going to tell you the same thing," Mary smiled slightly, and hugged him lightly before backing away.

"I'll see you tomorrow evening," Henry said, confident of his estimate. Provided no distractions, he should be able to ride swiftly enough to get there before it became too dark and too cold.

"Alright," Mary looked reluctant, yet her voice remained steady, "Three Saints, protect you." Henry couldn't remember her ever saying something of that sort. It clearly showed how worried Mary was, despite her urging him on. But he had a job to do, and they both knew it.

Henry mounted the stallion. With a quick tug on the reins, he was off at a steady trot. While it tempted him to look back at Mary, he knew better than to turn his attention away from the stallion. Henry had learned that lesson years ago, and had never forgotten it. He'd seen what could happen.

As he rode down the street towards the edge of the city, Henry felt something cold and wet on his shoulder. Glancing up for a second, he saw snow beginning to fall. He was slightly surprised that it had taken this long for the first snow of the year. Regardless, it meant he had to hurry. He gave the reins a slight flick, and the stallion sped up.

* * * * *

As soon as Henry was out of sight, Mary set off down the street. She had work to do, and wasn't about to waste time standing there, like some maiden from a ballad. A part of her wished she had told Henry about what she planned. However, Mary knew he'd be even more worried if she had, and he had enough to worry about.

Walking along, Mary considered where to look first. One thing she did know was that she didn't want to work for any of the businesses owned by the councilmen. If they really were looking to exact revenge on Henry, she'd be a fool to think they wouldn't use her against him. They probably already knew about her as it was.

Briefly, Mary wondered if she was becoming too paranoid. It wasn't like she had ever heard of the councilmen doing something of this sort, even though she worked in the house of one of them. While they would undoubtedly have tried to hide it...Mary shook her head. She didn't know enough about this sort of thing. Henry would have been able to figure it out, but obviously he wasn't here.

Either way, it was probably best that she didn't draw attention to herself. Mary knew that emulating Henry was the best solution, at least for now. She'd have to be discreet...something that she wasn't certain how to do. For now, Mary decided, she might as well walk around and look for people hiring. Staying out on the streets wandering randomly would do her no good.

* * * * *

The ride was going quite smoothly, Henry was pleased to note. While he had been forced to slow down the horse from a gallop to a trot, the stallion showed little sign of weariness. As tempting as it was, he couldn't afford to tire the horse too much. At the pace he was setting, Henry knew he would make it to the lumber camp well before night fell anyway.

Of course, he would most likely have to stay there overnight, just so the horse could rest. While Henry was hardly the most paranoid about the stallion's health - horses did possess surprising vitality - he knew there were limits. And he wasn't about to do anything that forced him to pay the stables extra fees for harming the horse. He'd be a fool to do so.

The terrain, mostly long abandoned farmlands, passed by as Henry moved on. Idly, he wondered why there weren't more supplies being sent than what the small parcel contained, but such concerns were completely pointless. As Mary had reminded him, no matter what else changed, he was still a mercenary, and should be focused on the current task. Looking ahead into the distance, Henry rode on.

* * * * *

Rapidly becoming frustrated, Mary stopped for a second, brushing a few half-melted snowflakes off her shoulders. She hadn't seen a single sign of anyone hiring, and none of the people she had talked to in past few hours had indicated anything. She was beginning to wonder if there was a specific method required in order to obtain a job. If so, Mary didn't know anything about it.

She would probably be better off waiting until Henry returned anyway. After all, he had far more experience in this area then she'd ever had. Mary sighed, and started to head back in the direction of Henry's house. There was no point in waiting around in the middle of the street.

"Excuse me," said a familiar voice. Mary turned to see Brother Adamkin standing there.

"Hello," Mary let out a breath. She hadn't seen Adamkin in a few days, and hadn't really thought about him. Remembering what he said about Seluria, Mary began to wonder how he would react to her becoming the maid.

"So, how have you been doing?" Adamkin asked, sounding cautious.

"Fine," Mary answered, "I moved in with Henry."

"So young," the brother commented absently, "To take your first step into a world of dreams and adventures..."

"What are you talking about?" Mary blurted out before thinking. She mentally cursed, hating that she was acting like that again.

"I'm a brother in the Church of the Three Saints," Adamkin smiled, "Certainly you can permit me to speak in a grandiose manner."

"Alright," Mary smiled back, still unsure what he had meant. That wasn't really important at the moment, though. "Now, I need to get home to make dinner," she told Adamkin, and started to head off.

"Wait," the older man said, "Before you leave...what of Seluria?"

Mary sighed, not liking what she would have to say, but she wasn't about to be dishonest. "She chose to stay behind and work as a maid," she admitted.

"And you let her?" Adamkin drew back, clearly startled. All Mary could do was nod. This whole conversation was making her feel guilty again. But there was nothing either she or Henry could have done about it, Mary reminded herself.

"I suppose I should have expected as much," Adamkin finally spoke, "A bit of a bad decision, but...nothing can be done about it now." Somehow, those words left Mary feeling even more upset with her herself, despite it all.

"I wish you luck then," Adamkin said gravely, and without further ado, turned away and walked down the street. Mary sighed, and began to walk slowly back home, down a street that seemed much darker and colder than it had a few minutes before.

* * * * *

Riding into the camp, Henry brought the tired stallion to a halt before dismounting with a smooth jump. Looking around, he noted the lumber camp was roughly what he had expected. Having worked in a place like this before, Henry actually felt slightly more comfortable among the handful of tents that made the camp.

The snow was just beginning to pile on, turning everything, from the ground to the treetops, glinting white in the light of the setting sun. Henry squinted slightly, not at all fond of having to do so. He hated being out in the middle of the day when it snowed. At least the street sweepers kept Amestraton's streets relatively clear, which made it somewhat easier back in the city.

A rustling noise made Henry turn, and he saw Erik emerging from one of the tents. "Henry!" the bigger man exclaimed, "You were running the supplies?"

"Yes," Henry admitted, handing over the package.

"That's it?" Erik snorted, "The woodcutters aren't going to be happy about this." Henry shrugged; he just delivered the packages like that, he didn't question such things. Besides, he'd had other worries on his mind, like what would happen to Mary.

"Well, can you go give this to the camp boss?" Erik asked, handing the package back, "I'll take care of the horse."

Henry nodded, not terribly surprised by Erik's behavior. The other mercenary was doing his best to avoid taking the blame for any problems with the supply package. While Henry wouldn't have likely tried such a thing himself, he understood most mercenaries would. They all protected their reputations in their own way.

But he had something else to do first. "I also have a letter for you," Henry spoke up at Erik, who had walked over and was inspecting the brown stallion.

"A letter?" Erik turned rapidly, startling Henry slightly. Henry nodded and produced the paper Aliah had given him, handing it to the bigger man. Erik started to read it, a smile spreading across his face as he did so. Henry waited patiently.

"Ah, Aliah," Erik eventually sighed, shaking his head, "I told her I was only going to spend a few days out here standing guard, but she still got all worried." The other mercenary folded the paper up, sticking it in a belt pouch. "Now, you better go turn over that package. I've got the horse, don't worry."

Henry nodded again, and headed for the larger tent. If he had gotten here a little sooner, he might have considered just leaving the moment he delivered the package. But no, the horse would have been too tired for the return trip either way. He had pushed the horse to a brisk pace, after all. He'd just have to end up staying here as planned, and hope nothing went wrong.

* * * * *

Mary began to prepare food, but her thoughts were more on what Adamkin had said. She had tried to do what was best for everyone, but it was going wrong again. She leaned over the counter, trying to figure out what she could do. Perhaps go get Seluria and...no, that would not work. Nothing Mary could do would possibly help Seluria without somehow either exposing the girl's elven heritage or getting her into far more trouble than could possibly be handled.

Silver barked a couple of times, jumping up on her leg. "Stop that," Mary said, reaching down and petting the small dog. Looking back at the counter, Mary wasn't certain whether to laugh or groan. The assorted ingredients she had gotten out couldn't possibly be combined into anything resembling edible food.

Sighing, she took some of the dried meat and began feeding it to Silver. The dog eagerly ate it, tail wagging. Mary straightened up, and shook her head, trying to shake off the doubts bothering her. She knew she couldn't do anything to settle them at the moment. Perhaps she should ask Henry when he returned from the camp. If there was something that could be done, he'd probably know what it was.

* * * * *

"So, you get my warning?" Erik suddenly asked.

"Warning?" Henry looked over at Erik, glad no one was listening. Sitting inside the largest tent, the various workers talked quietly, none of them paying heed to Henry, Erik, or the other mercenary doing guard duty. Henry remembered him introducing himself as Zareem.

"The one I gave to the maid when I delivered the food to Williamkin's house?" Erik raised an eyebrow.

"I thought that was a job offer," Henry frowned, realizing that he and Mary had to have misunderstood. It finally made sense though. There were rules about mercenaries interfering with other mercenaries' jobs like that, so Erik had attempted to sidestep those rules.

"It wasn't," Erik confirmed. Thinking back about the previous attack on the Williamkin house, Henry realized the mercenaries' guild had to have been aware of it too. There was no way Anthonikin would have willingly allowed a job like that posted in the guild. So he couldn't rely on the guild for future jobs...that didn't help matters.

"You know," Zareem spoke up, quietly, "You could both get in trouble for this."

"What they don't know won't hurt them," Erik chuckled. Zareem shook his head, but said nothing. Henry had to admit that was probably not the best thing, but since he could claim ignorance, the only one who might run into problems as a result was Erik himself.

"So, where did you get that horse from?" Erik continued, "You really picked out a beauty of a stallion."

"Stables on Stephenkin Street," Henry answered, then decided to satisfy his own curiosity. "Used to work there, but they got sold since then. Do you know who owns them?"

"Not a clue," Erik shook his head.

"Councilman Leroikin," Zareem answered smoothly. Henry stifled a groan, reminding himself to never use those stables again. It was bad enough that he was already not liked by the councilmen, but this didn't help improve things.

Henry sighed and took a bite of the food. It tasted bad, and he found himself missing Mary's cooking...and Mary herself. There was nothing he could do about it now though. Tomorrow he could get back to Amestraton and take care of things.

* * * * *

The knocking on the door startled Mary. She had been considering just changing into her nightclothes and getting some sleep when the sound came. "Who is it?" she called out, not having expected a visitor this late, especially with the weather being what it was.

There was no answer, just more insistent knocking. Sighing, Mary went over to the door and opened it...to see a figure lunging at her. She just barely dodged to the side, and the man stumbled briefly before recovering and turning to face her.

"Why don't you just come with me, woman," the man grunted, "Don't make this too difficult." Mary, suddenly frightened, began to back away slowly. This had to be what Henry had been afraid of. Don't panic, she told herself. There had to be a way out of this.

"Come on now," the man started. He looked like he was about to say something else, but instead let out a yelp as Silver bit the man on the ankle.

Mary knew she couldn't let this opportunity pass. She reacted instantly, ramming her shoulder into the man, driving him backwards nearer the door. She wasn't about to let herself be beaten, not after all she had been through. No matter what happened, she wouldn't lose...not here, not now.

She rammed him a second time, continuing to force the attacker back. The man let out a gasp, but Mary didn't stop, and moved again, this time forcing him out of the house. She stood there, looking down at the man crouched in the street, then closed the door.

A second later, the man flung himself against the door. Mary fell back, looking around through blurred vision. Grabbing Henry's desk, she dragged it across the floor to barricade the door, pushing it up again the door. Pausing, she leaned on the desk, trying to catch her breath. Looking up at the blocked door, Mary reached out and braced against it, hoping that she could hold it.

She resisted the urge to sink to the floor, to give up. She felt tears rolling down her face as she knelt there, but dismissed them as she braced her body against the desk. As Silver barked angrily at the door, Mary hoped she was strong enough to hold it.

* * * * *

Henry was on his way back to one of the tents to sleep when he heard the voice behind him. "Excuse me," Zareem spoke in the same quiet manner.

"Yes?" Henry said, then threw himself forward as he heard the more distinctive sound of a blade leaving a scabbard. Spinning, he saw the other mercenary advancing with drawn sword. Henry pulled out his own sword, holding it in front of him defensively.

Moving swiftly, Zareem attacked with a series of rapid slashes. Henry blocked the first few, but was forced to back off, unable to parry them all in time. This mercenary was far better than any of the thugs who had attacked Williamkin's house. Also, Henry was tired from the ride here, so he wasn't in good condition.

Henry began to circle, looking for a way out. Zareem stood there briefly, then charged in, attacking rapidly. Henry evaded the first two sword strikes, and then saw the third coming in, angled at his neck. He raised his sword, gripping it with two hands for extra strength.

The two blades locked together with a clang, Henry barely holding off Zareem's sword. He struggled, but could not force the other mercenary back at all. He suddenly felt a wet sensation on his arm, and looked down to see blood running from his previous injury. Henry cursed, realizing he'd reopened the wound.

He disengaged, and nearly staggered as he braced himself defensively. Damn it, he was more exhausted than he had realized. Henry knew he couldn't keep fighting like this, and with Zareem showing no signs of fatigue...this looked very bad. This time, there would be no Seluria or Yamras to save him from his opponent.

Zareem grinned slightly, obviously recognizing the superiority of his position...then gasped as a sword was thrust through his back. Erik drew out the sword with a grunt, and the gasping Zareem collapsed to the ground.

* * * * *

"Damn you, woman!" shouted the man as he threw himself against the door again. Mary didn't answer, simply bracing herself for the next impact. So far, the makeshift barricade had held up...but she was tired, so it was only a matter of time before this thug broke through.

"Stop right there, criminal scum!" yelled a new voice, "Nobody disturbs the peace on my watch!"

"Guard, but...I..." Mary heard the man protest, and then a scuffling sound and muffled shouts. Those sounds quickly faded, leaving the house and the street outside silent. She waited a moment, but there were no further signs of trouble.

Mary sank to the floor in relief, letting go of the desk. If the guard hadn't patrolled by when he did...she didn't know what would have happened. Perhaps she shouldn't have told Henry to go to that job. Suddenly, she realized the truth. They had to have known Henry had left, or otherwise they wouldn't have sent someone that easily fended off.

She shook her head, not wanting to think about it. Silver nuzzled her, and Mary reached out and began to stroke the dog's fur, trying her hardest not to think what would have happened had she failed. The man hadn't wanted to harm her, which meant she was going to be used as a hostage somehow, probably against Henry.

It didn't matter anyway, as the threat was over for now. She hoped Henry would return to Amestraton soon. She wasn't certain she could handle a second attempt at abducting her so readily. Silver, yawning in a typical canine manner, walked away and lay down in a corner, curling up. Mary closed her eyes, not wanting to sleep, but wanting the night to be over.

* * * * *

"Don't know why he did that," Erik commented. Henry, finishing applying bandages to his injured arm, looked up at the mercenary.

"Thank you," Henry quietly said. While he was feeling a little better, he was still exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to just sleep. However, he couldn't do that just yet, as this affair had to be sorted out.

"Just paying you back for helping me with that crooked shopkeep," Erik stretched, looking down at Zareem's body, "But how did he know you'd be here?"

A chill ran through Henry as he considered the implications. There was no way Zareem could have made it here from Amestraton in advance. He had to have been here to begin with. But for this assassin to be waiting for him to arrive...the job had to have been issued just for the sole purpose of sending him here. It had been a setup from the very start, and he'd fallen for it.

The guild had probably been involved with this one too. Suddenly, Anthonikin's warning made much more sense. Henry had no idea how the councilmen had gotten him to follow along with their plans, but it didn't matter. There was nothing he could do about that now.

"You alright?" Erik sounded concerned.

"I'm fine," Henry answered gruffly, thinking rapidly. It was too late to do anything else now except get some rest, but in the morning he'd have to set out for Amestraton.

"You just rest then," Erik told him, frowning, "Got to let that wound heal."

Henry shook his head. "I'll rest tonight," he explained to the larger man, "Tomorrow, I have to get back to Amestraton."

"But...your arm..." Erik started to protest, then shut up as Henry looked over at him angrily. Reluctantly, he headed for the tent, leaving Erik standing there looking at the corpse of Zareem.

* * * * *

Mary couldn't bring herself to sleep. Although she felt exhausted, every time she tried to close her eyes images of the thug breaking in came to her. Sitting on the bed, she looked down enviously at the sleeping Silver, wishing she could rest as easy as the little dog did. Less than a month ago, she actually could have.

Remembering how glibly she had told herself that Amestraton was her home, Mary felt foolish. What sort of home was this, when she could be attacked on any night? Perhaps the head of Henry's guild was correct. It might be best for them to leave this city behind. But she didn't know how they would manage it, or afford it. Henry wasn't so wealthy that they could leave on a whim.

But what choice did they have? If they didn't leave...Henry could die. She grew even more scared, wondering if he might already have been attacked. Stop it, Mary told herself. She wasn't going to let pointless speculation get in the way of things. Despite this, the disturbing feeling that this was going horribly wrong, and would continue to do so, persisted.

Those thoughts allowed her no rest or relief, despite how much her tired body desperately needed it. Clutching herself tightly, Mary sat there, waiting for the dawn, knowing that it could not come soon enough.

* * * * *

Chapter 13

* * * * *

Henry mounted the horse, ignoring the pain in his arm. While he hadn't slept all that well, he didn't think he could wait for too much longer. If Mary was in danger, she'd need his protection. She could protect herself from a lone orc, but if the Amestraton council wanted her dead, she would soon be dead.

"You certain you want to leave this early?" Erik asked, coming up beside the horse. He'd been talking to the head of the camp, who was clearly unhappy about having lost one of his two guards.

"Yes," Henry answered smoothly. At least one of the councilmen knew he had left Amestraton, if not all of them. He'd underestimated them severely. Henry just hoped that it wouldn't cost him in the worst possible way.

"Good luck then," Erik nodded, and began to head off.

"Erik," Henry spoke up, feeling slightly uncomfortable about what he was going to say.

"What?" Erik came to a stop, glancing over at Henry.

"Thank you," Henry said quietly.

"No problem," Erik grinned. Henry nodded, and spurred the horse into a rapid gallop. He knew it was a risk, especially if he made the stallion run for too long. However, he didn't see any other options. If the compensation fees for injuring or exhausting the horse were the only price he had to pay for Mary's sake, then he'd gladly pay them.

But before he could worry about that, he had to get back to Amestraton. Henry flinched slightly as a low hanging branch caught him in the shoulder, but he shrugged off the pain. Nothing, short of death itself, was going to stop him now.

* * * * *

The cold, wet sensation on her hand just wouldn't go away. Sighing, Mary opened her eyes to see Silver licking her hand anxiously. She groaned as she sat up, wishing she had gotten more sleep. After what had happened last night, Mary had been too fearful to even try. If it weren't for her body giving out, she would have stayed up all night.

Her body ached, more than anything she could remember. Mary didn't even think that one time she had to clean the parlor twice in a row, due to Michael spilling his tea, had left her this sore. Stop it, she told herself. Now was not the time to remember weird events from her work as a maid. Instead, Mary knew, she should be coming up with a plan.

Of course, it wasn't quite as easy as it sounded in her head. Try as she could, any solution that came to her involved her and Henry having to risk another attack like this one. Mary knew they couldn't afford to take that chance. There was no one in Amestraton to turn to, nowhere to go.

Suddenly, she remembered the advice Henry had gotten from the head of his guild. If Amestraton itself was not safe, then the best course of action might be to leave the city. If Mary and Henry put enough distance between themselves and the councilmen, they would be certain not to try to continue the attacks. Then the two of them would be safe at last.

There were problems with this solution though. Mary didn't want to leave Amestraton, but she didn't see any other good options. Rising to go check the cabinets for food for Silver, she couldn't see how life in any other city would work out. Of course, she acknowledged bitterly, she didn't exactly know anything about any of the other cities. Perhaps she needed to not think of it in those terms.

Henry, on the other hand, would definitely object to it. After all the money and time he'd put into acquiring this house and setting all of this up, it would be no surprise to Mary. Plus, she knew he was used to living with risk. It came naturally with his work as a mercenary. Although he cared for their well-being, he might not consider this a big enough threat. However, there weren't any other options she could see. She'd just have to try to convince Henry when he returned later today.

Grunting as she bent over to give the dog some dried meat, Mary hoped he would return safely. The sooner Henry got back, the sooner she could discuss the problems with him. She had a feeling today was going to be a long day. She probably ought to try to get a little more sleep before he came.

She absentmindedly began to snack on dried meat herself, not feeling up to cooking food this morning. Perhaps that was why Henry preferred it, Mary thought to herself as she sat back down on the bed. Laying herself down, she looked up at the ceiling, wondering if life was going to be like this from now on. It should be worth it, Mary told herself, closing her eyes.

She remembered her dream from a few days ago, with everyone dead or dying, and her unable to do anything to save them. Shuddering, Mary sat up, realizing she wasn't about to get any more sleep. Getting back up, she went over to look through her clothes. She could begin packing for such a journey. Even if she didn't know about what to take, it was better than lying there and seeing horrible visions of the future.

* * * * *

As he continued to ride along, Henry found this whole situation reminded him all too much of when his father and mother had abandoned him. It hadn't been only him, he reminded himself, although he almost never thought about his brother or sister these days.

He didn't want to come home to find the same thing he'd found back then. Henry and his brother Brian had gone out to find work or food, leaving their sister behind. He had returned to find the house that their parents had abandoned with them completely deserted. His brother never returned, and Henry had been forced to move out when the city guard claimed the place.

He didn't blame himself for what happened back then. Henry had been only a child, largely ignorant of the realities of life in Amestraton. Nothing he could have done then would have prevented what happened. However, this case was different. If he had not been such a fool, he could have prevented this problem.

Henry couldn't undo the past, but he could shape the future. To do that, he had to get back to Amestraton. He knew he kept thinking that over and over, but it didn't diminish the urgency. His horse gave an annoyed snort as he spurred it to try and gallop even faster. Henry didn't care; getting back was more important than anything else, including a horse's feelings.

* * * * *

Mary put the dress down with a sigh. She didn't think it would be warm enough, even if she wore her thickest coat over it. This was turning out harder than she had originally thought. It was certainly much more complex than simple moving from Robert's house to here. Mary wasn't entirely certain if she was preparing enough.

She shook her head, wondering what exactly she was actually doing. Henry wasn't even here yet, let alone agreed to the idea. On thinking about it, preparing for something that might not happen was completely foolish. Yet Mary had begun to pack anyway, despite the fact that she should have known better.

She still couldn't see any other good choices though. Perhaps Brother Adamkin could...no, that would run the risk of drawing the church's attention to this matter, and to Seluria. Mary wasn't about to do that to the elven girl. She couldn't think of anyone else in Amestraton that could possibly protect them from the councilmen.

This brought Mary back to the original problem of convincing Henry to leave. She didn't really know what she could say to convince him. Perhaps he would be reasonable about the whole affair. After all, he was normally better than Mary at seeing the way things were. She was a bit ashamed to admit it, but it was one of her weaknesses.

She'd just have to wait and see how it went when Henry got here. Setting the idea of preparing for a journey aside for now, Mary sat down on the bed and began to pet Silver. She was beginning to think her life had a clear pattern of making her wait on other people. It certainly was the case here.

* * * * *

It was roughly midday, Henry noted, as he rode up to the stable. He brought the horse to a stop, examining it for a moment. The stallion's sides were covered in lather. Hearing the labored breath of the animal, Henry held no doubts that he had thoroughly exhausted this horse. Dismounting slowly, he led it into the stable.

The stable hand was there, apparently cleaning. Henry did not envy her in the least, as he knew how messy some horses could be. She straightened up as he approached, looking over both him and the horse quickly.

"You really shouldn't have ridden him so hard," the stable hand said.

"I was in a hurry," Henry stated, not wanting to get into an argument now.

"Alright," she said, taking the horse, "I'll probably get sent to your house later today to collect the payment. You'll want to have it ready by then."

Henry briefly wondered why the stable hand and not the manager was the one telling him this. At least it saved him time, so he could go directly to Mary. "Thank you," he told her, turning towards the door.

"See you later," he heard the girl say behind him. Henry put her out of his mind for now. The only thing that mattered was getting back to his house. He began to run, not knowing nor caring what sort of attention he drew.

* * * * *

Mary jumped up when she heard the sound of someone trying to open the door. She'd forgotten to move the desk back away from the door. She approached the desk, then stopped herself. If this was another attack, she certainly didn't want to let anyone in. She doubted she was going to be lucky enough to fend someone such an attack off again.

"Mary?" Henry's voice called, "Are you there?"

"Henry?" Mary blurted out, then paused. It could be a trap...no, it wouldn't be. Henry would never go along with any sort of plan to work against her. Grunting, she grabbed the desk and hauled it away from the door. It seemed far heavier from when she had moved it last night.

The door opened as Henry walked in, looking weary. "What happened?" he asked, looking over at Mary, "Why did you block off the door?"

"Someone attacked," Mary stated simply. She didn't want to think about the details right now. She was just grateful that Henry was back here, safe and unharmed.

"You too?" Henry blurted out. Mary felt suddenly cold, realizing this situation was worse than she had originally thought.

"What happened?" she said, knowing she was echoing Henry's earlier question.

The job was a setup," Henry slumped against the wall. Mary couldn't remember ever seeing him this visibly exhausted. "They planned to kill me there."

"You're joking," Mary whispered, well aware of what this meant. This whole thing had been planned out from the beginning. They really didn't have anyone to turn to.

"No," Henry stated, frowning, "So what happened here?"

"Someone attacked here also," Mary looked down, trying to find the best way to explain it, "I think they were trying to capture me, though, not kill me."

Henry's response completely caught her off-guard, as he just embraced her suddenly. She slowly returned the gesture, not certain what to make of this. For a moment, the two of them stood there, not moving, just holding each other tightly.

* * * * *

Releasing Mary, Henry backed away, thinking carefully about what he should do next. Looking around the house, he noticed the open sack on the bed, with the clothes laying beside it. He nodded, getting an idea of what she had been considering doing.

"Thinking of moving back in with Williamkin?" he asked. Henry was perfectly serious, despite the fact that she might see it as teasing. That plan actually might would have worked if only one of them was targeted. With both of them in danger, it would be a very bad idea.

"No," Mary stated, frowning heavily.

"Then what?" Henry asked, puzzled. What could she have been planning? He didn't see any other feasible options.

"I was thinking..." Mary paused, looking hesitant.

"Thinking what?" Henry asked again. He really wished he knew what was going on here.

"About what the head of your guild said," Mary finally admitted.

Henry took a second to think about it. What had the head of the mercenaries' guild said...then it hit him.

"You think we should leave Amestraton," Henry spoke quietly, not certain if he believed it.

"Yes," Mary looked down, seemingly meek.

"But..." Henry's voice trailed off as he thought about it. With both of them being hunted, separating was not going to happen. And considering that the mercenary guild was in on it...there really wasn't anyone he trusted enough to be able to turn to. Amestraton was a very dangerous place for them to be, that much he knew.

However, there was one problem. "I don't think I could afford the cost of traveling anywhere else," Henry explained, feeling completely defeated. He really couldn't do anything to protect this house, or Mary. He couldn't recall ever feeling this useless.

"I hadn't thought of that," Mary glance down, then continued, "Are you certain we don't have enough?" She was clinging to a false hope, Henry knew. He slowly nodded, admitting his own failure. He should have known that it would end up like this. Their fate was set in stone, and nothing he could do could stop it.

"What do we do, Henry?" Mary moved closer, looking him in the eyes.

"I don't know!" Henry yelled, surprising both Mary and himself. He immediately regretted it. He hadn't meant to shout, but this situation was beyond anything he'd ever really dealt with.

"Henry..." Mary murmured, then turned at a sudden sound. Henry himself spun, feeling a sense of dread at the sound, one that was normally quite common. They couldn't be here already, he thought to himself as the sound came again.

It was the sound of someone knocking on the door.

* * * * *

Mary moved behind the door instinctively. She could figure out why Henry was so upset later. For now, they had to deal with this newcomer who was just outside. Fortunately, she knew enough tricks from sneaking around her father to know how to use the door to hide.

Henry drew his sword, and nodded at Mary. Without a word, Mary opened the door, keeping it between her and the outside. Henry could probably handle this, she hoped. If not, she wasn't certain what she would do.

"Get back," Henry warned, waving his sword in the air. Mary wished she could see who was standing there, but the door blocked her sight just as much as anyone else's.

"What the heck are you doing?," commented an all too familiar voice. Mary gasped in shock, wondering what in the name of the Three Saints the girl was doing here.

Henry drew back in surprise, looking as astonished as Mary felt. "Come in," he said in what was barely more than a whisper. He motioned for Mary to close the door, and she did, revealing a cloaked and hooded figure, who was clearly wearing a dress under it. As soon as the door was shut, the figure threw off the hood, revealing Seluria's pointed ears and elven face.

"Would you prefer I didn't knock?" the girl scowled, looking at Henry's still drawn sword. Mary stared, until she realized the elven girl was looking at her out of the corner of her eye with a mischievous twinkle. Seluria was clearly trying to tease her about something, but she couldn't really remember what. Also, she wasn't really in the mood for jokes.

"What are you doing here?" Henry asked, looking confused, "How did you get here?"

"Michael gave me directions," Seluria answered, holding up a piece of paper. From what she could see, Mary guessed it was a crude map. "He sent me here," the girl added, smiling.

"Why?" Henry seemed at a near-complete loss for words.

"Because I couldn't find my way around Amestraton on my own," Seluria tilted her head, apparently taking her turn to look confused.

"I think he means why did Michael send you," Mary supplied helpfully.

"Oh," Seluria blinked, "I get it now. Anyway, Michael sent me here. He wants to ask for your help."

* * * * *

"What?" Henry didn't know what was going on anymore. He was starting to wonder if he was losing his sanity, with all the ridiculous events taking place.

"I think one of the councilmen had some mercenaries attack Robert's house," Seluria explained, "Michael sent me out the side door to go find you and ask for your help in stopping them. I think they already took Robert, Sarah, and Yamras captive."

Henry couldn't believe it. Here he was, stuck in a city where the councilmen were after both him and Mary, and now someone wanted their help fighting with one of them. He couldn't understand how Michael could possibly expect them to help. As much as it would hurt Mary's feelings, he knew what his answer was.

"No," he stated firmly.

"What?" Seluria was visibly stunned.

"No," Henry repeated, "I'm not getting involved."

"Why?" Seluria asked, looking the picture of innocence. Henry didn't believe that for half a second.

"We've got our own problems." Henry grunted, not wanting to get into the details. "We can't solve his without dealing with ours."

"I understand," Seluria looked down, "But...what do I do?

Henry didn't have an answer. As Seluria bent down to pet Silver, who looked agitated from all the shouting, he looked over at Mary. She looked stunned, staring at Henry with widened eyes.

* * * * *

Not believing what she was hearing, Mary looked at Henry. The last thing she would have expected was him to turn Seluria down. He had told her that he tried to be reliable and pay his debts. The elven girl had saved Henry's life - and Mary's too - so it made sense that he would repay her when he got the chance.

"Why can't we help them?" Mary protested, moving in front of Henry. The expression on his face seemed hopeless, even more so than he had before he'd left on his last job.

"Because I'd like to live?" Henry raised his voice again, "I'm not going to do something that foolish."

"She saved your life!" Mary found herself shouting. She couldn't remember ever shouting at Henry before, but he'd never been this infuriating either.

"Uh...could you not argue?" Seluria asked from beside them. Mary ignored her.

"And what?" Henry countered, "Did you forget what she did to your father?"

"That was an accident!" Mary's voice rose higher, as she felt hot anger at the fact that Henry had brought that up.

"Does it matter?" Henry glared at her, "She was a fool!"

"There's a difference between being evil and being a fool, you know!" Mary shouted, "She might have made a mistake, but-"

"It's all my fault, okay?" Seluria suddenly shouted, "Everything!" Mary turned to face the elven girl, caught completely off guard. Henry did the same, looking equally surprised.

"Seluria?" Mary asked quietly.

"All my fault!" Seluria continued to yell, "I persuaded my brother to take the human merchant to meet with the clan! I snuck onto the caravan and stole their food!" Tears began to fill the girl's eyes as she continued, "I put the poison into the sugarcane powder! I'm the one who killed your father! I admit it! I did all of that! I did it all!"

Mary drew back, both horrified and ashamed. She'd forgotten everything that Seluria had gone through. As Silver began to bark loudly, she moved forward and hugged Seluria, who hesitated one second before beginning to weep on her shoulder. All these things we said, Mary thought, and we didn't even think of how the girl would react. She'd just kept arguing the issue with Henry.

Thinking back, Mary admitted she'd always been like that. All of her decisions had been based on what benefited her and Henry, with no regard to what happened to anyone else. She'd told herself that there was nothing that could be done, but that was just a delusion. The real truth behind all of these events was stark and simple. She had been completely, absolutely selfish.

She didn't know what they would do next, or where she and Henry would go. All that Mary knew was that she was nothing more than a fool.

* * * * *

Henry admitted that the argument had been a little foolish, and didn't help with the current situation. Looking over at Mary holding Seluria, he wondered how the situation had come to this. The councilmen clearly wanted him dead, wanted to capture Mary, and had already captured Williamkin, his family, and Yamras.

The councilmen were proving themselves to be fools yet again. If for nothing else, capturing Yamras was reason enough, because it meant that they did not care one way or the other what became of the trade deal with the dwarves of Pordrin. Henry knew that without that, Amestraton would suffer. He was no merchant, but that was something even a urchin on the streets could understand.

Knowing that didn't help his and Mary's situation either. Watching as Mary released Seluria, Henry wished there was something he could do to make it better. However, it seemed that everything that happened, including what he did, only made it worse.

"So now what?" Mary asked.

"I don't know," Henry shook his head, keeping himself under control. He was not about to let his anger explode again. "Even if we helped Williamkin, it still wouldn't help our problems."

"What problems?" Seluria spoke up, sniffling.

"The same people after Williamkin are after us," Henry explained, "We could help now, but they'd still send more and more attackers until we were dead or captured."

"Wait," Mary suddenly said, "Perhaps...Williamkin could help us."

* * * * *

Feeling tense, Mary looked around the small house. Both Seluria and Henry were staring at her, waiting for her to say something. She swallowed, not wanting to make Henry angry again. While it wasn't certain this would work, it was all that she could think of.

"If we do go rescue Robert," she said slowly, "Couldn't we persuade him to arrange for us to leave Amestraton? He is head of the traders' guild, after all."

"You want to leave Amestraton?" Seluria asked, wiping her eyes with her arm.

"It's the only safe choice," Mary replied, well aware of the irony involved. A few days ago, neither of them would have even considered such a solution. Now, it seemed the best hope of making it out alive.

"And where do you plan to go?" Seluria pointed out.

"I...don't know," Mary admitted, realizing the girl had a point. With winter setting in, they couldn't afford to just wander off in a random direction. They had to figure out some place to go, one that would be relatively safe.

"You should think about that," Seluria suggested, then nodded, "So, are you coming to help Michael?"

Mary frowned, turning to Henry. "Do we do it?" she asked him, knowing everything depended on the answer he gave.

He looked down, but not before Mary caught a glimpse of his face. He looked reluctant, which meant she knew what his answer was. He probably didn't like it; Mary knew she wasn't loving the idea herself. However, they had run out of choices.

"Alright," Henry finally said, raising his head, "I guess...we have no choice. Let's go save Williamkin." He turned and opened the door. "Ready?"

* * * * *

Henry hated to admit it, but Mary was right. There really were no other options, except to depend on Williamkin's generosity and gratitude. Given how the councilman - or former councilman - had treated him the last time they had met, Henry's hopes were not high.

If the worst occurred, Henry guessed that their only option would be to try and steal some horses, making a run for it. He'd never thought he would have to resort to theft just to survive, but events had forced them into a corner. Henry was also certain Mary wouldn't agree to it either. Also, they had Seluria to worry about, so that had to be considered as well.

Finding three healthy horses to carry all of them would be hard enough, Henry noted as they quietly walked down the street. The stable he went to before hadn't had but one good horse, and he'd just exhausted that one earlier today. Obviously, they couldn't afford to waste any time checking different places just to find what they needed. Since Henry had no real knowledge of what the other stables had - or even where they were - that wasn't much of an option either.

It all depended on how many mercenaries were involved with the attack on Williamkin's house. Henry was fairly good, if still slightly injured, and he knew Seluria apparently had some skill of her own. Even with Mary possibly able to help, they would be no match against superior numbers. Three guards were probably the limit. Any more, and the situation would be beyond their ability to deal with.

He could only hope that wasn't the case. If this did somehow manage to work, Henry admitted he would owe Mary an apology. He doubted it would, and he'd have to improvise something. He wasn't certain that would work either, but he supposed it was better than waiting for their deaths.

* * * * *

Mary quietly climbed over the fence, and motioned for Henry and Seluria to do the same. It was sort of funny how she still held to her old habit of avoiding using the gate, despite the fact that no one could likely hear the sound. For that matter, her father probably couldn't have either, but she'd done it anyway.

Thinking of her father made her wonder what he would think if he saw her now. Knowing his tendency to follow rules, he'd probably criticize her decision. After all, they were going against what the city council was trying to accomplish, and Mary had never heard of anyone ever doing that. While that didn't mean much due to her being sheltered, she ought to have heard something about it.

"Coming?" Seluria asked, her eyes still slightly reddened from her breakdown earlier.

"Sorry," Mary muttered, realizing what had happened yet again. Moving up to the open side door, she walked into the all-too familiar kitchen. The flame in the stove was burning low, making the room cooler than it normally was. Mary took a good look around the place, aware this was probably the last time she would ever see it.

Moving across, Henry peered out into the hallway. "No one there," he said quietly, "I heard sounds coming from the front of the house though. Is that where they are?"

Seluria shook her head, "All I knew is Michael said they were coming in the front. I never actually saw them, so I don't know."

"So, now what?" Mary asked.

"I should go change out of this dress," Seluria pointed out.

"Why?" Henry looked at the elven girl, puzzled.

"It'll be harder to fight while wearing it," Seluria explained. Henry shot a glance at Mary, and she nodded. She'd seen Seluria fight, and knew that the girl's acrobatic techniques would not work so well in a dress.

"Alright," Henry turned back to Seluria, "Hurry though." Seluria headed down the hall without another word, going towards the guest room where hopefully her stuff was.

"So we wait?" Mary asked, wondering if that was the best idea. There was no telling what was happening to Robert or any of the others.

"No," Henry looked at her, surprisingly calm given his outburst back at their house, "Let's find out what we're dealing with."

* * * * *

Henry quietly crept down the hallway, Mary following behind. He had to admit she was fairly good at being stealthy. Even if he was still a little bitter towards her, he could at least acknowledge she had some skill in this area.

Walking slowly up to the end of the hallway, Henry peered around the corner and immediately regretted this idea. Five men, all armed, were all standing in a rough circle near the door, all watchful. In the middle of the circle, carefully bound and gagged, were Williamkin, his wife, and Yamras.

Henry evaluated his odds as Mary crouched down beside him. Alone, he stood no chance against the five men. Even f Seluria was a good a combatant as Mary had indicated, it would be a tough fight, with little chance of winning. However, since they had to wait on the elven girl anyway, he might as well see if an opportunity presented itself.

The sound of voices from across the hall gave Henry pause. He thought he recognized one of them as...wait a second, why wasn't Michael among the bound captives? If this was a trap, then he could have made the worst mistake yet.

"So the papers are ready?" came Michael's voice. Henry grew angry again as Mary stifled a gasp with her hand. This was a setup of some sort, that much was clear.

"Correct," came the voice of a man, oddly familiar. Henry couldn't remember it, but he knew he'd heard it somewhere before. "Are you ready to take the position then?"

"I wouldn't have agreed to this if I wasn't," Michael spoke, voice heavy. Henry wished he could see them from where he was, but he didn't dare expose himself or Mary.

"Excellent," the mysterious voice spoke, "We'll have to arrange for some new assistants at the traders' guild, just for you." He laughed. "I don't think the current guild members would like having you as their leader, after what you just did."

So, Henry mused, they planned to set Michael up as head of the traders' guild. That explained why they tried to get rid of Williamkin before. Given how angry Michael had been with his father, manipulating him had probably been simple for the councilmen. There was no telling how long they had been working on this.

He turned back to see a figure walk into view. He recognized the man instantly; it was Councilman Richardkin, Silver's former owner. Mary grabbed his arm to steady herself, and it was clear that she recognized the man too.

* * * * *

Mary was surprised how shocking it was, seeing Councilman Richardkin standing there like that. She supposed a small part of her had still held on to the hope that the councilmen weren't behind the attacks or any sort of plot. That hope was gone now, as it was clear what was really going on.

However, the five people standing guard worried her more. She hadn't counted on there being this many people they'd have to deal with. Even with Seluria's abilities, Mary was certain that this wasn't a fight that they could win. Her plan, such as it was, was looking like a total failure. What chance did they have when faced with such odds?

Stop it, Mary silently told herself. Everything she'd decided had led to this moment, and losing confidence now was not an option. Looking over at Henry, she noticed him studying the group intently. He was trying to spot any obvious openings, Mary realized. If such an opening presented itself...she acknowledged that it would be their best chance.

"I'm ready," Seluria said quietly, moving up beside them. She was no longer wearing the dress, having put on her leathers from before. It made Mary wonder how could the girl not be chilled. Apparently they hadn't been tending the fires to the same degree of when she worked here. Briefly, she wondered if that was due to the attackers, or Seluria herself.

Turning her attention back to Richardkin, Mary realized he was looking down silently at the bound Robert, studying him closely. While she couldn't see his face, it almost seemed like he was gloating, somehow.

For a moment, he just stood there. Finally, Richardkin spoke, "It's a shame, really. If only you hadn't insisted on continuing this foolish struggle against us, we could have made Amestraton truly great."

Mary was completely confused, uncertain of what the portly councilman was talking about. Looking across to both Henry and Seluria, they both look equally puzzled. Mary shrugged inwardly, turning her attention again to the councilman.

* * * * *

Richardkin continued, as Williamkin glared up at him defiantly, "I know you probably understand it, but I'll explain it anyway, for Michael's benefit. I think he would stand to gain from a history lesson."

"Go ahead," Michael spoke from where he stood out of Henry's sight, sounding neutral.

"Amestraton has always needed strong leadership...unified leadership," Richardkin began, "Especially so after the Plague." Henry privately disagreed, but admitted he was curious about where this was going.

"But the guilds," Richardkin suddenly snarled, "They kept insisting on some foolish idea of not having their business controlled. Year after year my predecessors tried to negotiate, but they were too stubborn to see the truth."

Henry raised an eyebrow. He wasn't aware of any other guilds other than the mercenaries' guild and the traders' guild, but the mention of the previous councilmen meant this had been going on for probably longer than he had lived. Something really bothered him though. If it weren't for the fact that this man had been part of a group trying to kill him, his logic here might have sounded reasonable.

"So we had to resort to more drastic measures," Richardkin explained, calming down, "One by one, we brought the guilds down, until about thirty years ago, there were just two left. The mercenaries' guild...and your traders' guild."

"And then?" Michael asked.

"We approached the traders' guild again, several times. Each time, they refused," Richardkin shook his head, "We even were so reasonable that we decided to grant Williamkin a position on the council. But your father was still stubborn. He just didn't realize the truth, that we have to do what is best for the future of Amestraton...regardless of what it takes."

"I understand," Michael said slowly. Henry doubted that it was as simple as that. While the idea of such infighting having dominated Amestraton in the past was not surprising, he wasn't about to believe everything Richardkin said here. Hopefully Mary and Seluria understood that as well.

"So," Michael spoke up suddenly, "Don't you need to go deliver the paperwork to the council?"

"No," Richardkin stated flatly.

* * * * *

Mary admitted mentally that she didn't know what was going on here. What Richardkin had said sounded oddly similar to a number of talks Robert had given Michael about dealing with the guild and the councilmen. It was slightly disturbing, although Mary couldn't quite figure out why it made her feel that way.

It didn't matter anyway, she realized. Richardkin clearly was their enemy, and couldn't readily be trusted. Despite all the mistakes Robert may have made, he'd never intentionally done anything to hurt her. He might not be as good a person as Mary had originally thought, but he was hardly evil. Right now, he was also their best hope for getting out of this city.

"What do you mean?" Michael finally asked after a long pause, "Don't you need to be there for the decision?"

"My voice on the decision is already included in the paperwork," Richardkin turned, revealing his face to Mary. He was smirking at Michael. "Plus, I don't think I want to have any...surprises develop."

"What surprises?" Michael sounded surprised.

"Don't play the fool with me," Richardkin, "I know you sent your new maid out of the house. Did you really think you could trick me?"

"I guess not," Michael admitted. Mary wondered what Michael had planned. It certainly seemed like he was faking being on Richardkin's side. She just hoped that Richardkin wouldn't do anything to him.

"I'll admit it was clever, tricking the last group of thugs I sent into thinking you had an elf here," Richardkin noted, "Such a clever trick, but making people believe in a fake legend is an age-old ballad. I was not fooled." The councilman paused, then continued, "Remember who it was who got you to the point where you could have your revenge. And consider what we could do to you."

Mary doubted it was revenge; she guessed that had to be the excuse Michael had come up with to trick Richardkin. It was all starting to make sense now. He clearly hadn't intended to go along with the council's plans. However, that plan itself was ruined, as Richardkin had clearly anticipated it. Although it looked like Michael wouldn't be harmed, the situation was looking worse.

"So what of the paperwork?" Michael asked.

"I'll send four of my guards to deliver it," Richardkin chuckled, "Any little surprises you had planned definitely won't work."

Mary was startled by this proclamation. Richardkin had completely misunderstood Michael's plan from the beginning. Turning to look at Seluria and Henry, Mary wasn't surprised to see the elven girl look as surprised as she felt. Henry, however, bore a neutral, almost uncaring, expression at what he had heard, which startled Mary even more.

* * * * *

Knowing what he did, Henry was perfectly capable of recognizing when someone was pulling a scam. Even so, he had to admit Michael had pulled a slightly clever trick here, deceiving Richardkin into sending most of his guards away. The councilman's foolish paranoia over the success of this plan was a mistake.

While it was a bit odd that the plan apparently left no way to deal with the paperwork giving the guild to Michael, Henry supposed he'd planned for that too. Whatever it was, it wasn't any of Henry's concern. He had enough to worry about without thinking of city council issues.

Henry watched as the guards Richardkin had assigned left one by one. The door closed behind them, with a heavy thud. In a few minutes, it would be time to make his move. He could have done it now, but that risked having the guards hear the commotion and come back. Once they had put enough distance between themselves and here, it would be relatively safe for Henry and Seluria to attack.

He wasn't certain what he would do to Richardkin. Henry considered simply taking the councilman hostage and using that to help them get out of the city. However, he certainly didn't want to do anything to provoke their anger further, or they might be convinced to continue the attacks even after they had left.

Henry guessed he'd have to decide that later. For now, it was time to begin the attack. Fortunately, he'd already figured out a plan that might work. "Seluria," he murmured, looking over at her.

"Yes?" the elf asked.

"You can take the one guard," he explained, "I'll deal with the councilman." Seluria nodded, and turned to look at the one remaining guard. Henry glanced over at Mary, "Mary, can you free Yamras and then Williamkin?"

"Alright," Mary looked slightly hesitant, but then again Henry wasn't all that confident himself. However, it was too late to back off now.

"Let's go," he said. Without any delay, he drew his sword and darted forward, prepared to end this whole problem here and now.

* * * * *

Moving forward rapidly, Mary circled around the one guard as Seluria raced to engage them. Henry had moved off in the direction of Richardkin, presumably to block his escape. Ignoring the sounds of battle, she knelt down beside Robert and pulled off their gags.

"Mary," Robert looked astonished, "What are you doing here?"

"Michael sent for us," Mary said hurriedly, not wanting to have to take the time to explain it. She began to pull at the knots binding Yamras. She couldn't remember ever seeing rope tied like this, which made it difficult. The fact that the ropes were damp with sweat didn't help matters. She hoped Henry wasn't counting on her freeing them quickly, because it was going to take some time.

Looking up, she saw Seluria performing the same agile movements around the one guard that had helped before. It actually seemed to Mary that the girl was moving even faster than she had last time. While she still was not striking any blows, it was clear the guard had no chance of even hitting her. As long as Seluria didn't tire, that guard wasn't going to win.

Looking back down, Mary wasn't surprised to see both Robert and Sarah staring at Seluria fighting. She reminded herself they had never seen what Seluria was capable of. As she continued to work to untie Yamras, it occurred to Mary that it might be a good thing for Robert to realize how much he had underestimated the girl.

Turning to Henry, Mary was a little surprised to see both him and Richardkin also staring at Seluria. While Henry did have his sword out and pointed in Richardkin's general direction, he wasn't paying any attention to the councilman. Luckily, Richardkin was just as stunned by the display of Seluria's skill as Henry, not taking the opportunity to escape.

"Henry," Mary called out as she continued to work with the ropes. It was clear now she wouldn't be able to free Yamras in time to be helpful. It was up to Henry to deal with this situation, but he needed to focus. Hopefully, this would get his attention. "Henry!" Mary raised her voice.

* * * * *

Henry shook his head, regretting getting distracted like that. While he had trusted that Mary had been honest about what Seluria had done against those other thugs, this display of acrobatic combat was the last thing he had expected. It was not surprising she had been able to defeat three armed men with abilities like that.

Turning, he could see Richardkin looking extremely startled, possibly even fearful. Recalling what the councilman had said about elves, Henry found himself amused. Seluria was the one thing that no one had counted on, and it worked in their favor.

"Enough," Henry said, raising his sword slightly.

"So the elf was real?" Richardkin spoke slowly, looking up at Henry, "An oversight. You surviving the attack planned for you at the lumber camp was another one. The maid not being captured...I really should have hired better people for these jobs."

Henry took a step closer, listening closely to the sounds of the battle behind him. He did not trust this man, and never would. For now though, it seemed as if Richardkin was not even trying to flee. Henry guessed that the man was arrogant, thinking he had won.

"It doesn't matter," Richardkin commented, "I already know how this will end."

"You do?" Henry blurted out, caught off guard.

"Of course...Henry Tylaris" the councilman grinned, "That's right, I know you, and I know your kind. You common people are always running around like little mice, scared of when one of us big scary councilmen puts his foot down. You're always afraid you might get squashed, might get killed, so you do everything you can to avoid drawing our attention."

Henry stared in astonishment as Richardkin continued, "So you'll do nothing. And sooner or later, my guard will outlast your elf - if she really is an elf. Once she is dead, he'll be able to finish you quite easily. After all, with your arm like that, how could you possibly expect to fight?"

Henry glanced down at his bandaged arm. The bandages were still blood-stained; he'd forgotten to change them. It didn't matter though, because the councilman was right. Unless the guard was somehow completely incompetent, Henry's chances of defeating him in a swordfight were very low.

"It's already over," Richardkin chuckled, "Even as you die, you'd never do something to hurt me, not even to protect yourself. In the end, you lost before you were even involved."

Henry drew in a deep breath. While he knew he shouldn't believe anything that Richardkin said, the councilman was disturbingly astute. He'd always avoided anything that would cause him to directly conflict with the councilmen. He'd always thought that avoiding risk had to be done to survive, and had lived his life that way.

Even after meeting Mary, Henry admitted to himself that he had always laid his plans around not having any such issues arise. Even with him knowing where Mary came from, knowing the nature of the city he lived in, he had made the mistake that had brought him - and Mary - to this point.

For all that Henry cared for Mary, and she for him, there was one final truth he hadn't understood. It was all meaningless, he realized, if he wasn't willing to do what had to be done. He'd thought he'd been doing everything he could for her sake, and for their future, but he'd been wrong all along.

Now, though, Henry knew exactly what he had to do. Drawing back his sword, he stepped forward quickly. Before Richardkin could react, Henry stabbed the councilman in the chest. The man stumbled, as warm blood spurted over Henry's hand, still holding the sword tightly.

"You...fool," Richardkin gasped out, before coughing up more blood. Henry yanked his sword free, and watched as the councilman collapsed on the wooden floor.

* * * * *

Mary was stunned to see Richardkin fall dying to the floor. Of all the things she had expected Henry to do, killing one of the councilmen was not one of them. She'd been vaguely aware that Richardkin had been saying something to Henry as she struggled with these knots, but she didn't hear exactly what was said.

Wiping his blade with a rag,Henry turned, and Mary could see a tired but determined look on his face. Whatever Richardkin had said to him, it apparently hadn't angered him. However, it had to have been something that made Henry want to kill the councilman. Mary couldn't quite figure out how that worked, but it seemingly had worked out.

On the other side of the room, Seluria danced away from the guard. "Still want to fight?" the girl asked, gesturing with one hand at the body of Richardkin. The man looked back and forth between her and the figure, and then quietly did the same thing the other assailants did before, jerking the front door open and fleeing. Mary let out a sigh of relief, then turned her attention back to Henry, who was sheathing his sword.

"Why did you kill him?" she asked, standing up and approaching him.

"Because I had to," Henry said simply, then astonished Mary by throwing her arms around her. "I'm sorry," he muttered, to her further surprise and embarrassment. Sighing, Mary reached up and returned the gesture. She could get an explanation later. For now, there was only one thing that mattered \- that they had won.

"Hey, you going to free us or what, lass?" Yamras shouted, "These ropes are ruining my beard!"

Mary let go of Henry instantly, feeling completely foolish. With a sigh and a slight grin, Henry walked over to the bound trio, drawing out his sword again.

* * * * *

Henry finished cutting the last of the ropes. Stepping back, he watched as Mary helped Sarah to her feet. The older woman did look pale, but he couldn't blame her. He suspected that sort of ordeal would leave most people shaken.

Henry felt tired himself, but there was still too much to do for him to relax. Turning, he saw Michael stepping forward. "Thank you," the young man said, "I had hoped sending Seluria would have worked."

"So you were manipulating Richardkin all along," Williamkin looked at his son, looking pleased, "While I'm surprised he ended up dead, I won't complain."

"That was the one factor I couldn't be certain of," Michael admitted, "But either way works out."

Mary moved up beside Henry as Williamkin nodded, "The council will likely be extremely cautious about interfering with the traders' guild after this. They do value their own lives, so they won't bother with another takeover attempt for years."

"Fair enough," Michael said. For a minute, the two stood there, staring at the body of Richardkin, lying face down on the floor.

"You know, I'm not sure I'll be able to clean the bloodstains out," Seluria commented suddenly.

"We'll replace the floor," Williamkin chuckled, "If that's the worst that comes out of this, I'll consider myself a lucky man."

"Indeed," Michael said. Henry shook his head, tired of waiting. However, they could hardly discuss arranging for them to leave the city here, so it was really up to the former councilman.

"It is a shame though," Williamkin spoke again, turning back to Michael, "It would have been better if you could have stopped the paperwork from being sent out. I suppose we can fix that problem later."

"What problem?" Michael asked innocently.

"Well, you can't remain head of the traders' guild," Williamkin crossed his arms, looking exasperated, "I'll have to take that position back."

"Why?" Michael still sounded innocent. Henry took a step back as he suddenly realized exactly what Michael had planned. It was so obvious, he wondered why he hadn't realized it before just now. Between Michael's growing frustration with the way Williamkin handled affairs and the attacks on his house, it all made sense.

"Lad, quit joking," Yamras looked up, scowling, "You know you aren't really ready to run the guild." So the dwarf had figured it out too, Henry noted.

"Run the guild?" Williamkin raised his voice, clearly confused, "What do you mean?"

"It's simple," Michael stated coldly, "I, Michael Robertkin, will be the head of the traders' guild from now on."

* * * * *

Mary's jaw dropped open as she stared at Michael. Did he really think he could replace Robert as head of the guild? It sounded incredibly foolish, and yet he seemed certain. She glanced around, seeing almost nothing but speechless faces. She couldn't think of anything to say herself.

"You..." Robert finally managed after a moment, "You can't mean that."

"I do," Michael shook his head, "You've proven you can't be trusted to run the guild."

"Can't be trusted?" Robert stared at his son. Mary could tell he was both baffled and angry. "I've been working as a merchant for most of my life, and been head of the guild for nearly ten years! What makes you think you could do better?"

"It's simple," Michael repeated, then explained, "Unlike you, I'm willing to actually act for the betterment of Amestraton."

"What do you think I've been doing all this time?" Robert's voice went even higher. Mary resisted the urge to cover her ears. "Do you even know how much I've sacrificed for this city?"

"And what good has it done?" Michael pointed out, gesturing at Mary and Henry "Look at them. You couldn't even protect Mary or her father from getting caught up in all of this, and they lived with us. There are thousands of people out there who struggle every day. How can you say you did what was best when you couldn't help any of them?"

Robert stepped back, looking suddenly stricken. Mary regretted everything she'd done over the past few days. She hadn't realized that it would cause Michael to turn on his own father. If she could take back everything, it might fix it. However, Mary understood, it would likely have meant she wouldn't have ended up moving in with Henry. She didn't know what to think any more.

"You know, the council won't let you get away with it," Robert finally said, an odd sound in his voice. Looking over at him, Mary could see tears in his eyes.

"Probably not," Michael nodded, "So I intend to get rid of them as well."

"That's beyond foolishness!" Robert suddenly yelled, "If you did that, you'd destroy Amestraton! Without the leadership of the council, the city would fall within a month!"

"I'm aware of that," Michael nodded, "The current councilmen will be replaced." He nodded towards the body of Richardkin. "Starting with him."

"And who do you think would replace them, lad?" Yamras scowled, speaking up, "This idea of yours has more knots in it than a beard after a bath." Mary agreed silently, not knowing at all how Michael's plan would work.

"Well, I have an ideal candidate right here," Michael grinned. Mary felt confused, then noticed that he was looking straight at Henry expectantly. Realizing what Michael intended, Mary was stunned. By the Three Saints, he couldn't mean to make Henry a councilman...could he?

* * * * *

Realizing exactly what Michael was considering, Henry was stunned. Of all the outcomes of this he had briefly considered, him becoming one of the Amestraton city council had definitely not been one of them. While he hadn't thought well of those outcomes, this one was even worse.

A small part of Henry wanted to accept it though, just to get back at the councilmen for all they put him through. However, he knew what kind of risk that would put Mary through. They already had enough reason to want him dead, and that would only make the whole matter worse. Henry knew exactly what he had to do, as certainly as he had known killing Richardkin had been the same.

"That's not going to happen," he told Michael.

"Why not?" Michael asked, "I know you, more than most, can understand the brutality of the councilmen."

"Exactly," Henry shook his head, "They tried to kill me just yesterday. If they see me that way now, how would they act if I became a councilman?"

"You could-" Michael began to say.

"No," Henry knew his decision was final. For the first time, he admitted that Anthonikin was right, and Mary was right. Amestraton, a town he had called home his whole life, had become a death trap of a city. He'd be a fool to want to stay.

"Very well," Michael shrugged, sounding forcedly calm, "It's your decision. I won't try to manipulate you into doing it, unlike my father." As Michael turned away to look down at Richardkin's body, Mary embraced Henry suddenly. He looked at her, aware of how grateful she had to be. He knew he'd made the right choice.

* * * * *

Mary had hoped that Henry would make that decision. It baffled her how Michael could have possibly thought that would work out. She didn't like to think of anyone as a fool, but Michael was beginning to look like he was acting like one.

Releasing Henry, she looked over at Sarah, concerned by the fact the older woman had not said anything the whole time. Sarah looked even more pale, and was clearly leaning heavily on Robert. The ordeal was really getting to her, Mary realized. Between being held captive twice and her illness, Sarah could not be feeling well at all.

Mary moved over to the older woman's side. "Are you alright?" she asked gently.

"I'm fine." Sarah said slowly, smiling gently at Mary. As if that were true, Mary thought to herself bitterly. She wished Sarah would just admit to feeling poorly.

"Yamras," Michael suddenly spoke up. Mary jerked her head around to look at him, suspicious. As much as she hated being in this position, she didn't dare trust him.

"What is it, lad?" Yamras narrowed his eyes. Mary could tell the dwarf was angry. However, instead of exploding into a fit like she had seen him do, he was doing no more than scowling at Michael. Mary wasn't certain if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

"I suppose that now that I'm in charge, we probably ought to negotiate a new trade deal." Michael explained, "One that's more favorable to Pordrin."

"You think we'd want to deal with you?" Yamras snorted.

"Why not?" Michael drew back.

"I'll tell you why, lad," Yamras said, shuffling his feet, then roared, "You really think the dwarves would deal with someone like you? For all your little claims about being against manipulation, you certainly manipulated your father and Richardkin well enough! And you expect me to trust you? You'd lie straight to our beards!"

Mary backed away as Yamras stared angrily at Michael. She half expected the dwarf to suddenly attack, unleashing all his anger. Before anyone else could move though, suddenly Robert stepped forward. He said nothing, merely grabbing Yamras's shoulder. For a minute, the two stood there before Yamras visibly calmed down. Mary let out a sigh of relief, glad it hadn't come to violence.

Michael, meanwhile, was looking desperately between the lot of them. "Fine then," he finally spoke. To Mary, it seemed like he was on the verge of panicking. "I'll just make a new, better deal," he said rapidly, "Right, Seluria? We could make a deal..." His voice trailed off as he looked at the elven girl expectantly.

Mary froze, remembering exactly what had happened the last time Seluria had been offered a trade deal. For a second, everyone else was still as well, as if time itself were frozen. Mary wanted to move, to stop what she knew was coming, but she couldn't react.

Seluria moved, crossing the room so fast Mary wondered if the girl was a sorceress. Before anyone else could react, she sent Michael sprawling across the floor with a heavy blow. Standing over Michael, Seluria looked down on him.

* * * * *

Henry readied himself, in case he had to stop Seluria. While at the moment he disliked Michael more than ever, he didn't want him dead. Still, he admitted that the young man had acted the fool, clearly provoking the elf like that. It occurred to Henry that Michael had he forgotten why Seluria had ended up in this house. He wasn't certain why that would be the case though, but he had no way of knowing.

"What the heck are you thinking?" Seluria asked coldly, "You know what my answer to that would be."

"Seluria..." Mary murmured, barely audible. As far as Henry could tell, no one but him heard her.

"You could find your people!" Michael shouted, climbing back to his feet "The guild could help you do it! The council could help you do it! Then you could represent them!"

"You want me to represent my people?" Seluria asked softly.

"Yes!" Michael answered, beginning to sound hoarse.

Seluria just stood there. Henry circled around her, only to see tears forming in her eyes. He didn't understand why she would react this way, but it was clearly important. He waited patiently, keeping his gaze focused on the elven girl.

"Then I shall," Seluria finally said, her voice low but firm, "In the name of Clan Kalokan, I, Seluria Ni'teralsan Na'uldrini Kalokan, declare Michael Robertkin an Enemy of the Ni'arth."

"What?" Michael was astonished.

"From this day, the Ni'arth shall hunt Michael Robertkin on sight, tracking him until he is chased off, or...or dead," Seluria's voice nearly caught, but she continued. Henry could see now that tears were running down her face. "Greatfather Arth, reject him...now and forever."

"You...can't be serious," Michael's voice was barely a whisper.

"I am," Seluria replied, "Leave now...before I begin the hunt."

Michael cast his gaze widely around, looking from person to person. Looking around himself, Henry could see no sympathy in any of the other faces. Confusion, mistrust, and pain were what he could make out, but kindness was not one of them. Michael himself had made certain of that, Henry knew, and now there was nothing left for him here.

"Fine then," Michael spoke coldly, "I suppose that I will have to make Amestraton a better place without your assistance." He looked around the room again, meeting everyone's gaze briefly. No one said anything in response.

Henry noticed Mary moving over to Seluria to comfort the elf, who was now sobbing. Michael paid none of this any heed, turning away towards the front door. Stopping in front of it, he turned back to face them. "Goodbye, father," he said quietly, before turning away again. With an echoing slam of wood on wood, Michael left the house.

* * * * *

Chapter 14

* * * * *

Mary helped Sarah lie down on the bed. She wasn't certain whether she should be more concerned with the older woman, who still looked ill, or with Seluria. The elven girl had been completely silent since she had stopped sobbing and calmed down, and had just followed Mary around while she assisted Sarah.

"Thank you, Mary," Sarah said softly. Even with the house as quiet as it was, Mary could barely hear her. She nodded silently, not knowing of anything she could bring up in response. It was unlikely there was anything she could say that would make Sarah feel better about what Michael had said and done. Even a simple apology probably would be pointless.

"What do you plan to do now?" Sarah suddenly asked.

"We...were going to leave Amestraton," Mary said slowly. She wasn't certain how Sarah would react to the decision, but it was too late now to change it.

"Alright," Sarah sighed, closing her eyes. Mary was about to turn, and leave her to rest, when Sarah spoke again, "Where will you go?"

"I don't know," Mary shrugged. While it was the same question Seluria had asked earlier, she hadn't had the time to think about it. It probably wasn't a good thing that she still didn't have a honest answer.

"I have...a suggestion then," Sarah coughed, lifting one arm.

"What it is?" Mary asked, surprised.

"Torthrus," Sarah told her, "You could go to Torthrus."

* * * * *

Henry shook his head as he looked at Williamkin. The former councilman sat as his desk, staring despondently at a scattering of paperwork. From the glimpses of the man's face that Henry had gotten, he knew that Williamkin was in deep despair.

"I've failed," the older man said, repeating himself almost as if he were reciting a prayer, "I can't believe I didn't see it. I've failed."

"Look, I told you it wasn't your fault Michael got his beard in a knot," Yamras grumbled, "Stop beating yourself into the dirt over it." Henry silently agreed with the dwarf's view. There was no telling how long Michael had been planning for this. It didn't matter, because in the end Michael's initial plan had worked.

It still baffled Henry how Michael had expected everyone to somehow see the merits of his plan. Considering that everyone else involved had been manipulated in some way, it seemed completely foolish. In the end, Henry admitted the only way he'd ever learn the truth was if he asked Michael directly. That obviously was never going to happen.

For now, though, he had to finish up his business here. "We need to talk," Henry said quietly, walking up to Williamkin.

"About what?" Williamkin sighed, turning.

Henry paused, undecided on how to explain the situation. It was one thing to ask for payment for a job, but directly asking for a favor was not something he was used to. He wasn't certain Williamkin was used to it either, due to his previous position.

"Well?" Williamkin was insistent, "I don't have time for you to dawdle."

"I'd like something in return for saving you," Henry decided bluntness was his best option.

"Still a mercenary, I see," Williamkin remarked sarcastically. "How much worthings is this going to cost?"

"I don't want worthings," Henry explained, less than pleased with the direction this was going. He should have known Williamkin would be a fool about this.

"Alright then," Williamkin drew back, looking mildly surprised, "What do you want?"

"I want to leave Amestraton," Henry stated.

* * * * *

"Wait," Mary said, stunned, "You're saying my mother and father are both from Torthrus?"

"Correct," Sarah replied softly. Mary could hardly believe that now, of all times, she was finally getting answers about where her parents came from. She'd put the whole idea out of her mind, thinking it was impossible. Of course, Mary had been aware that Sarah might have known something, but she'd never had the opportunity to ask.

"Why did they come to Amestraton?" Mary asked.

"I'm not certain," Sarah told her, "I do know Patrick's original goal was to make it as a merchant. That's how Robert met him. However, things went wrong, and he turned to us for help."

"Wrong?" Mary blinked. She didn't know what to make of her father actually being a merchant like Robert. It didn't seem like the sort of thing he would try to do.

"I don't know the details," Sarah coughed again, "I think Patrick was never very good at making deals. I'm fairly certain Emily also had a few health issues, even back then. I know she miscarried at least once."

Mary shuddered. She'd always dreaded the very thought of miscarriages. It seemed wrong on many levels to have that happen. However, she'd never imagined her own mother suffering through such a thing. If only she had been told about this, she might have understood them better. It was too late for that now, Mary thought, feeling tears stinging her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Sarah raised her hand.

"It's not your fault," Mary wiped her eyes with one arm, and grasped the extended hand with the other. Sarah's hand felt somehow fragile, thin and aged.

"They never talked about why they came here," Sarah continued, "But if you went to Torthrus, you could find out."

Mary drew back, realizing what this meant. To finally have some answers about this whole thing was incredible. If she could find out more, perhaps it would be worth it. Also, it meant there would be someone possibly willing to help Henry and her settle in there.

"Let me...think about it," Mary said slowly. She looked down, trying to decide if this was really what she wanted.

* * * * *

"So they were targeting both you and Mary as well," Williamkin slumped down, looking even more in despair at Henry's explanation.

"The elders definitely won't want to deal with Amestraton when they find that out," Yamras grumbled, "As much as it twists your beard, I have to tell them."

Henry shrugged, not certain what he could say to that. While he still had his doubts about this plan, he was feeling a little more confident. Although Williamkin was no longer in an official position, the older man would still have most of his money.

"You're willing to protect Mary, right?" Williamkin suddenly said.

"Of course," Henry nodded quickly. There was no need to let the older man know about his little realization prior to killing Councilman Richardkin.

"Alright," Williamkin stood up, opening a desk drawer, "I may not be able to keep Mary safe myself, as I promised Patrick, but at least you can." He extended a hand, holding something glinting. "Take this."

Henry reached out, and Williamkin handed him the metal object. It was a small iron key, looking slightly worn.

"Use this key," Williamkin explained, "You can access the guild stables with it. Take one of the wagons there, and a horse to pull it."

"What about supplies?" Henry pointed out.

"There should be enough food stored there for a journey lasting several months," Williamkin frowned, "You'll have to handle other supplies such as clothes, but I suppose you can handle that yourself. If anyone asks, tell them I ordered you to do it. No one else should know yet about what has happened, so there should be no problems."

"Alright," Henry was surprised it had gone so smoothly. Then again, given the mention of a promise to Mary's father, that would explain much. He made a note to discuss the matter with Mary later. "Thank you," Henry added.

"Just keep her safe," the older man told him, "Good luck." Henry nodded, and quietly left the study. Now, all he had to do was wait on Mary.

* * * * *

Mary paced in the hallway outside the bedroom. No matter which way she thought about it, Torthrus seemed to be their best choice. If she really had relatives there, she might be able to persuade them to help her and Henry settle in. Undoubtedly Henry would also be able to think of other benefits as well.

"Mary," Seluria said from behind her. Mary spun around, startled. She hadn't even noticed the girl approaching her. Then again, she supposed she ought to be used to getting lost in thought by now.

"What is it?" Mary asked, fighting off the urge to reprimand Seluria.

"You're going to go to Torthrus, aren't you?" the elven girl asked, "So you can get help from your family."

Mary briefly wondered how Seluria had known what she was thinking, but decided it wasn't important. "We probably will," she admitted.

"Can I come with you?" Seluria asked.

"Why?" Mary blurted out, caught off guard. She hadn't expected Seluria to want to leave. Although, now that she thought about it, it did make sense. Seluria was likely going to be in as much danger as they would be if they stayed.

"Because, if any of my clan survived," Seluria spoke up, "They might be in Torthrus."

Mary paused to consider that, then remembered what Seluria had told her. Of course the elves from Seluria's clan would go to Torthrus.

That, however, raised another question. "Why didn't you go to Torthrus to begin with?" Mary stifled a yawn, feeling tired.

"Now how the heck would I know the way?" Seluria pointed out, crossing her arms.

"Point taken," Mary wondered if it was possible to throw something at herself. She really should have thought of that before asking.

"It's okay if you don't want to take me," Seluria said quickly, glancing down.

"No, it's alright," Mary replied, "However, Henry has to decide." She wasn't certain Henry would appreciate Seluria coming along, although the girl's skills might be useful. "First, though, let's talk to Sarah," Mary added, walking back up to the bedroom door and opening it.

* * * * *

Henry was beginning to get annoyed at how long Mary was taking. She ought to know how desperate their situation still was, despite having been successful so far. Of course, considering that, it was likely that the delay was something beyond her control.

"Hey, lad," Yamras said, walking up, "I've got a question for you."

"What is it?" Henry briefly wondered if Yamras was considering accompanying them on their journey or something. He could live without the dwarf, regardless of how helpful he was.

"I think I owe you an apology," Yamras sighed, "I think I'm really the one to blame, getting you dragged into this by your beard, so to speak."

"No," Henry told the dwarf, "Because of Mary, I probably would have been involved either way."

"True," Yamras admitted, "Although I wonder if it might have been better that way."

"So," Henry didn't like to pry, but he was curious, "What will you do now?"

"Probably go back to Pordrin and tell the elders," Yamras shook his head, "I'm not looking forward to that."

"I thought you couldn't get up there in the winter," Henry pointed out, confused. At least, that was what he remembered Yamras saying.

"The wagons can't," the dwarf explained, "There's a couple of steeper routes that I could make on foot. I'm hardy enough to handle any threat."

"What about Williamkin?" Henry knew that Mary would ask about this later. He might as well try to find out now, so she would be satisfied.

"He's going to stay here in Amestraton and work against Michael and the rest of the council," Yamras said, "Sarah can't travel with her illness, so he isn't going to leave her behind."

"Right," Henry had forgotten that little detail. He idly wondered if Michael had even considered the older woman's condition before putting his plan in motion. At this point, it was pointless speculation, and he probably didn't need to worry about it.

"Well, I've got to go pack up some stuff," Yamras said, "I guess I won't be seeing you again." The dwarf looked over at Henry, expression stony. Finally, he said, "May the ancestors protect you." Without another word, Yamras walked away.

* * * * *

"I agree," Sarah said softly, "It would be best if Seluria left too. Robert probably will agree also."

Mary couldn't argue the fact, although there was one problem. "What about you?" she asked, "Will you be alright?"

"I'll be fine," Sarah coughed slightly, which didn't make what she said convincing.

"I wish I could have made some medicine for you," Seluria sighed. Mary shook her head, realizing it was a pity the elven girl hadn't been able to do that. Of course, Sarah might not trust such medicine, given what Seluria had done.

"I wish you could, too." Sarah replied. Mary frowned, then realized the truth. Sarah still didn't actually know that it was Seluria who had put that sleeping poison in the tea. And as tempting as it was to be honest, Mary understood that telling her now would only make things worse.

"Don't you need to leave soon?" Sarah looked up at the two of them.

"Yes, we do," Mary bent over, embracing the ill woman, "I'll miss you."

"So will I," Sarah nodded, "Just take care of yourself, and make Patrick proud."

Mary felt herself smile, feeling slightly bitter. "I will," she promised, "You can rely on me. Farewell...Sarah." She turned to the door, tears stinging slightly. Seluria turned to follow her.

"Farewell, Mary," Sarah spoke so quietly that Mary barely heard it, "May the Three Saints be with you."

* * * * *

Henry looked over to see Mary finally descending the stairs, with Seluria following behind, apparently having changed back into a dress. The elf was carrying a sack, which was slightly odd. However, Henry wasn't about to waste time wondering about whatever Seluria was doing. There had been too many delays already, and they needed to leave now.

"Ready to go?" he asked, feeling irritated.

"We're ready," Mary nodded. Henry turned and started for the door, then stopped as he realized exactly what Mary had said.

"We?" he said, looking over his shoulder at the two of them.

"Sorry," Seluria looked slightly embarrassed, "But I don't think I should stay here. Sarah and Mary both said it was okay..." Her voice trailed off as she looked at Henry expectantly.

Henry wasn't certain what to think. While he doubted he wanted the hassle of someone else to watch out for on this journey, he knew that the elf was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. In fact, Seluria might even know more about surviving in the wilderness than he did. Of course, there were issues with food, but if she was capable of hunting, it could make up for that.

Either way, it was true that it was probably too dangerous for Seluria to remain in Amestraton, just like it was for them. The first time her elven nature had been seen, it could be chalked up to poor lighting or panic. This time, though, the rumors would soon start flying. Once that began, the councilmen might be the least of Williamkin's problems.

It was somewhat ironic, given how when he was younger, Henry had been thoroughly skeptical of legends such as elves. Now, he was considering traveling alongside one of them. Elf or no elf, Henry had to admit, Seluria was preferable to most people as a traveling companion. Even considering her mistakes, he wasn't adverse to the idea of the elven girl coming with them.

"Alright," he sighed, hoping he wouldn't regret this. "Let's go." Turning back, he opened the door wide with a sweep of his arm. Henry instantly regretted it, realizing he'd forgotten about his injury yet again. It didn't matter though; all that mattered was getting out of this city.

* * * * *

Walking down the street, Mary couldn't believe it was not evening yet. With all that had happened today, it was hard for her not to think that it should be later. However, the sun was still fairly high in the sky, although it had began to lower. She wished she had looked at a timepiece before leaving Robert's house.

Looking around, she noticed that the street seemed strangely quiet. There were a few people standing here and there, but it was hardly crowded. Amestraton seemed different from what she was used to. Even though she hadn't been out that much, something about the city was unsettling. Perhaps she was just being paranoid, but being out on this street was making her nervous.

Henry marched ahead, not having said anything since they left. He seemed tired, and Mary could understand why. She wasn't exactly feeling her best herself, due to her lack of sleep last night. After all, she hadn't actually had to do anything more difficult than try to untie some ropes. Henry had ended up doing that for her, which probably hadn't helped him.

Glancing over at Seluria, who was hooded, Mary could see the girl still looked a little upset. She couldn't blame her for that. It was the second time that Seluria had been forced to make a choice like that. However, she'd never been forced to leave everything she'd ever known.

Perhaps that was why she felt so uneasy. Mary had always thought this city would be her home. But home wasn't someplace you just lived, she realized. If she had to spend most of her time looking over her shoulder, fearful of who might decide to attack next, then any place could never truly be her home. Amestraton, Mary acknowledged, could not be such a home.

She believed that her mother and father would have understood this as well. They had left Torthrus for some reason of their own, so Mary suspect they would have come to the same conclusion. While that left the question of what made them want to leave, she wasn't about to worry about that. Simply being able to find out what she had was more than enough.

Hopefully, Torthrus would be the home that Amestraton was not, and would work out better than it had for her mother and father. She silently prayed to the Three Saints, continuing to walk along. With luck, they would be out of the city before night fell.

* * * * *

Henry opened the door of his house, looking around it with a sigh. All the time and effort he'd put into obtaining this was now about to be worthless. There was no point in complaining about the whole affair now, though. Henry had made his choice, and he'd known in advance what it meant he'd have to do.

"Let's pack quickly," he told Mary, not bothering to turn. Moving over, he began looking through his clothes. He'd have to take the warmest ones, as winter in the Northlands would not be easy. As long as they stuck to the roads, they wouldn't have many problems, especially if they decided to head south.

"I've already packed," Mary pointed out. Henry sighed, realizing he'd forgotten about that detail.

"Well, I still have to," Henry shook his head and resumed looking through the drawer.

"I wish I could help," Seluria suddenly said from behind Henry.

"It's alright," Mary told her, "You've helped enough...wait, I didn't mean that exactly."

Henry snorted as Seluria laughed. "It's okay. I understand," the elf said, "So...do you know what Torthrus is like?"

Now why, Henry wondered, would she bring up Torthrus? It was where the merchant who helped start all of this came from, but it didn't seem typical of Seluria to seek revenge for that. Unless it was the case that she figured that some of the other elves had possibly gone there, which made more sense.

"I've never been there," Mary sounded oddly quiet.

"I've been there once," Henry spoke up, continuing to sort through his clothing, "Are you saying you think we should go there?"

"Yes," Seluria explained, "I can find out more about my clan, and Mary can find out more about her family."

Henry turned at that statement, seeing Seluria crouched down and petting Silver while Mary looked on. "Her family?" he asked, the question aimed at Mary as much as Seluria.

"My mother and father were originally from Torthrus," Mary looked down, "I just found it out from Sarah."

So they had known all along and hadn't told her, Henry thought. Given how they had seemingly mishandled Michael, he supposed it wasn't surprising. Of course, given the current situation, there was no point in bringing that up now.

Regarding Torthrus, Henry could see the benefits of going there. If people there knew of Seluria, or were somehow related to Mary, they could get help from them. He felt a little foolish, realizing that the two of them had probably already thought of this. Then again, there was no way he could have known the truth about Mary.

"Alright," Henry told them, "Torthrus will work."

"Thanks," Seluria's voice was soft.

"Now then," Henry grumbled, "I need to-" He stopped as a familiar sound rang out. Someone else was at the door. Sighing, he stepped over to the door and flung it open.

* * * * *

Mary peered around the door to see a young boy standing there...wait, it was the stable hand from before, which meant she was a girl. She mentally congratulated herself on not getting fooled by that again.

"I've come to collect the pay-" the girl began to speak, then stopped and stared. Mary turned, realizing what she was looking at. Still crouched on the floor was Seluria, her hood down and her elven nature on full display.

"What are you?" the girl shrieked. Before anyone else could move, Henry grabbed the stable hand and clapped one hand over her mouth, forcing the door closed with one of his feet.

"Quiet," he told her, "Do you want to attract the guards?" Henry released her, and she stood there, staring at Seluria.

"But she...what is she?" the young girl was clearly flustered. Not knowing what to say, Mary just looked on, feeling a little numb.

"My name is Seluria," Seluria stood up, looking over calmly. Mary didn't quite understand how the elven girl could be so calm in this situation. "I'm an elf."

"An elf? By the Three Saints, that's impossible!" the girl shook her head.

"It's the truth," Seluria explained, "I know it seems weird, but I'm real."

"A real...elf..." the girl whispered.

"Didn't you come here for this payment?" Henry grumbled, holding up a small sack. The clinking sound of metal on metal made it clear that it was filled with worthings.

"Oh, right," the girl looked back and forth between Henry and Seluria, shaking her head, "I'd best be going then." Still repeatedly glancing back at Seluria, the stable hand left the small house.

* * * * *

If the rumors weren't being spread about Seluria before, they were going to be spread now. Knowing that, Henry sighed. He'd been briefly considering that it might be a better idea to wait until the morning to leave, due to his fatigue. However, that mistake - and it was his foolishness at work here - had made it get worse.

Finishing packing his sacks full, he sighed and began to unwrap the bandages on his arm. Seluria walked over, studying his injury carefully. "Is it feeling better?"

Henry considered a moment, but being dishonest here would accomplish nothing. "No," he answered, "I opened it again when I was attacked at the lumber camp."

"Attacked?" Seluria took a step back, "When?"

"Yesterday," Henry grunted as he began to wrap a new bandage around his arm, "I'll explain the details later."

"So that's why you want to leave Amestraton?" Seluria said slowly.

"That's basically it," Mary confirmed, walking up to Seluria, "It's similar to why you didn't stay in that forest with the other elves."

Seluria looked down, not saying anything. After a moment, she finally spoke, "I'm sorry this ended up like this."

"It's alright," Mary sighed, putting one arm around the elf's shoulders, "In the end...we get what we really wanted."

Henry couldn't disagree with that statement. Finishing tightening the bandage, he spoke up, "Anything else we should take?"

* * * * *

Mary frowned, trying to consider the possibilities. "We'll have enough food?" she asked, unable to think of anything else.

"According to Williamkin, yes," Henry crossed his arms, "We'll be taking supplies from the guild."

"Isn't that stealing?" Mary pointed out.

"Probably," Henry admitted, "But considering our situation, it's the best we can do." He leaned forward slightly. "Remember, this was Williamkin's idea."

Mary found it a little hard to believe that Robert would advocate stealing from the traders' guild. However, he could still see it as his, despite the paperwork. In fact, she realized, it wasn't impossible that many of the guild workers would act as if Robert was still in charge. She felt faint, thinking of how much worse the situation would be if that occurred.

"Alright then," Mary nodded, forcing herself to focus, "What kinds of food will there be?"

"Travel rations," Henry said, "Mostly dried meat and bread."

"That will work." Mary replied. She didn't like the food, but she could live with it. More importantly, it meant Silver would have something to eat along the way. After all, Mary had no intention of leaving the little dog - who was now napping in the corner - behind.

"Why did you ask?" Henry looked at her curiously.

"Silver," Mary pointed at the dog.

"Oh," Henry looked mildly surprised. Apparently he hadn't been thinking about Silver. Mary knew she'd probably be able to get a laugh out of it later. For now, though, there was much to do. Grabbing her bags, she waited for Henry to finish up.

* * * * *

Henry opened the door with one hand, and turned to hold it for Mary and Seluria. Looking over at Mary, who was holding Silver, Henry honestly doubted the dog would stay with them once they got out into the wilderness. He wasn't about to bring that up though.

After Seluria and Mary walked past, Henry closed the door. Turning, he walked after them, ignoring the urge to look back one last time. He wasn't certain why he had that urge. He dismissed the thought, knowing he had much more pressing concerns.

Oddly enough, he hadn't seen any of the city guards around. That at least, was good news, as it made this somewhat easier. While Henry didn't expect the word to have gotten around yet about him, it was always a possibility. Regardless of what else they might be, the guards were still paid by the Amestraton councilmen.

For now, they had to get to the guild stables. Henry admittedly didn't know exactly where they were; he probably should have asked about that. Most likely, they were adjacent to the main guild building. Judging from the fact that Mary looked like she knew where she was going, she probably knew where it was.

Looking up confirmed they were steadily approaching the traders' guild, proving him correct. Henry let out a yawn, drawing a glance from Seluria. He was feeling a little fatigued, but he wasn't about to stop now. At the least, they had to put some distance between themselves and Amestraton. Then he could rest.

* * * * *

While Mary had not been in the guild stables in years, she still remembered where they were. It was a little strange, being able to remember odd details like that. For now though, it was proving to be useful, so she didn't really want to question it.

"Here we are," Mary announced, on an impulse, "The stables." Henry stepped forward with the key, and unlocked the side door. Grabbing the handle, she pulled the heavy door open, and headed inside. Henry and Seluria followed her, not bothering to close the door again.

Naturally, while she had remembered where they were, Mary couldn't recall what the stables looked like on the inside. Compared to the other ones she and Henry had been to yesterday, these seemed much more clean, from the floor to the horse stalls to the ceiling. No matter what else you could say about Robert, he had made certain everything was kept in good condition.

"Right then," Henry said, looking around himself, "Do you know where the supply closet is?"

"I don't know," Mary admitted, looking around the place. Amongst the horses and wagons, the supplies had to be kept somewhere.

"What about that door?" Seluria asked, pointing. Mary glanced over, seeing the plain wooden door. She wished she'd noticed it before, but it was partly hidden behind a wagon.

Henry quickly hurried over to door, and tested the handle. The door slowly swung open, clearly not locked. Moving up beside Henry, Mary peered inside. Beyond was a small room full of sack after sack, all stuffed full off various supplies. The whole place smelled faintly yet distinctly of salted ham.

"Let's load one of the wagons," Henry nodded, appearing satisfied, "Quickly."

* * * * *

Heaving another sack into the back of the wagon, Henry slumped down in exhaustion. While the sacks weren't exactly heavy, they were bulky. Coupled with his injured arm, he was starting to wear himself out.

"Are you alright?" Mary asked, walking around the wagon to look at him.

"I'll be fine," Henry said, although he wasn't certain that was true. He couldn't recall the last time he'd pushed himself as physically hard as he'd done in the past two days.

"You should rest," Seluria peered around the side of the wagon, "The two of us can handle it."

Henry resisted the urge to snort, as Seluria had been struggling to even lift one sack. Henry had, at least at first, been easily able to carry them. He wished he could have kept that pace going. If it wasn't for this damn injury, he thought to himself, they would have left by now.

Still, he admitted he needed to conserve his strength. Henry doubted that either Mary nor Seluria would know enough to drive the wagon. While that wasn't a hard task, it would require most of his attention. Unlike most, he knew he couldn't give that kind of attention when he was tired. It would be foolish to put Mary's life at risk over something so trivial.

"How many more do we need?" Mary asked. Henry stood up and looked into the wagon. The sacks were leaned against the sides, lined in rows stretching from the front to the back.

"One or two more," Henry told her. He was a little surprised she didn't look as exhausted as he felt. Of course, she didn't have any injuries. Leaning against the wall, he watched at Mary fetched the last of the supplies.

* * * * *

"This is the horse we should use?" Mary asked, pointing at one.

"Correct," Henry nodded, "Open the stall, and I'll get it ready."

Mary nodded, and opened the stall door slowly. She didn't know anything about horses, so she knew Henry had to handle this part. She wished she could do more, as he still looked rather tired.

Henry finished putting on the reins and began to lead the horse out. Seluria, who had moved closer to look, stumbled backwards trying to get out of the way. Mary was suddenly struck by how young the elven girl seemed. In her opinion, Seluria was far too young to have gone through what she had.

"Are you hurt?" Henry asked, not turning as he led the horse to the wagon.

"I'm okay," Seluria looked slightly shaken, but otherwise unharmed. Mary helped the girl up, then turned back to keep watch on Henry. It wasn't that she didn't think he could handle it. Actually, she mentally corrected herself, that really was what worried her.

"Alright," Henry said, "Open the doors and let's go." He gestured at the large double doors along the wall ahead of the wagon. Mary briefly wondered why they had bothered coming in the side door when they could have used the main ones. It didn't really matter, though.

Walking over, Mary began to pull on one of the doors. It was far heavier than it looked, and it dragged along the ground, making it hard to move. Suddenly, a second set of hands grabbed the edge of the door. Seluria grunted as she tried to help. While it didn't really speed it up, Mary was appreciative of the effort.

The two of them slowly worked the door open, then moved to the other door and began to pull. It felt even heavier than the other door, and Mary was grateful when they finally managed to open it. She never wanted to do that again, as her arms ached fiercely from the strain.

"I thought I saw you heading down the street," came a familiar voice from outside the doors. Looking up, Mary saw Brother Adamkin standing there, looking at them with a curious expression on his face.

* * * * *

The last thing that Henry, already sitting on the wagon and holding the horse's reins, wanted was another interruption. However, there was no way they could simply leave unless Adamkin moved. He'd have to talk to him first. Hopefully this wouldn't take too long.

"What do you want?" Henry made no effort to hide his irritation.

"Simply to talk," the man stated, studying them, "I see you plan on leaving. Does Williamkin know?"

"Yes," Henry said simply, thinking rapidly. It was clear Adamkin did not know yet that Williamkin was no longer head of the traders' guild or one of the councilmen. He wasn't about to correct this error.

"Very well," Adamkin frowned. For a second Henry wondered if he'd been wrong and the brother did somehow know what had happened. He dismissed that as being highly unlikely. Word didn't spread that fast.

"So," Adamkin continued, stepping inside the stables, "Where do you plan to go? Traveling during the winter is a bit risky."

"Torthrus," Mary answered. Henry hadn't really wanted that revealed, but nothing could be done about it now.

"Torthrus, is it?" Adamkin nodded, "That would work." He looked down. To Henry, the man seemed almost reluctant, but he couldn't figure out what it was about. Finally, Adamkin raised his head, looking at Mary. "Before you go, I believe I owe you an apology."

* * * * *

"An apology?" Mary blinked.

"Yes," Adamkin said slowly, "I believe your father did find out about your little excursions outside the house."

"Correct," Mary realized instantly what this meant.

"I was the one who told him," Adamkin admitted, shaking his head, "At the time, I thought that he had known, so I asked him what you were doing. However, since he didn't know and was clearly aghast, I was concerned about the matter. At least, until I found out what was really going on."

"From who?" Mary asked, glancing over at Henry. She could tell he was impatient, but this shouldn't take too much longer.

"I probably shouldn't tell you," Adamkin sighed, "But if you insist, I will." He paused for a few seconds. "It was the bartender of the Three Brothers."

"Thomas?" Mary could hardly believe it.

"Your father wanted me to ask around," Adamkin frowned, "I thought it was a bit of a fair request. Until I finally found out what you were doing, and realized I'd been foolish."

"It's alright," Mary let out a breath. If that was all Adamkin had to admit to, it was fine. It wasn't like he had led to her father's death. That one was entirely on the shoulders of Robert and Seluria, and the latter, at least, was apologetic.

"Thank you, but I doubt it's that simple," Adamkin replied, "Especially given what else is going on."

"What?" Mary didn't know what to think, but she definitely didn't want any more surprises.

"Mother Bettikin fell into a coma last night," Adamkin's voice was solemn, "The doctor doesn't think she'll wake up again."

"Oh," Mary thought for a moment, then gasped, "Wait, won't that make you the-"

"The head of the Amestraton church? Most likely." Adamkin confirmed, "While I do have to wait until the church leaders approve, I doubt they won't."

* * * * *

Henry was getting a little tired of this discussion. He didn't particularly care who was in charge of the Church of the Three Saints. There was only one thing he wanted: to leave Amestraton now.

"So should I call you Father Adamkin?" Mary sounded slightly amused. Henry coughed, trying to get her attention.

"Not yet," Adamkin chuckled.

"Is this going to take much longer?" Seluria grumbled, walking up to the two of them. While it was true that was not the most tactful approach, Henry was not about to complain.

"Oh, right," Adamkin looked sheepish, "I suppose I should let you go. But first, one last warning."

"What is it?" Seluria asked.

"I was able to hide your presence here from the other members of the church," Adamkin said, "I doubt you'll have that same luxury in Torthrus, so be on your guard."

"We'll be careful," Henry pointed out quickly.

"Then I wish you the best," Adamkin nodded, "May the Three Saints protect you."

"And you as well," Mary replied, and the older man turned and walked out of the stables.

"Alright, climb on," Henry was relieved that was over with. Mary nodded and walked around to the back of the wagon with Seluria, climbing in under the cover. Henry flicked the reins, and the wagon began to roll forward.

* * * * *

Mary looked around out the back of the wagon as they rolled down the streets. While she didn't really recognize any of the people or buildings they were passing, it still made her a little nostalgic. She hoped she'd get over it, as she wouldn't be much use if she kept moping about it.

"Do many people move between cities like this?" Seluria suddenly asked. The elven girl had sat silently so far in the shade, her face practically invisible under the hood of her cloak.

"Not that I know of," Mary said slowly, "But I didn't know that many people."

"Okay," Seluria seemingly shrugged; Mary couldn't tell for certain in the dim light created by the wagon's cover. "I didn't know that many people outside my clan either."

"Well, I'd think you wouldn't want to know them," Mary commented with a chuckle.

"Yeah, you're right," Seluria said, then yawned, stretching her arms as high as the wagon would let her.

"Are you tired?" Mary asked. She knew how she felt, and Henry's fatigue was obvious, but she might as well ask about Seluria.

"A little," Seluria admitted, "It wasn't as tiring as fighting those other three men when they attacked Robert's house, though."

"That's probably right," Mary nodded, "I don't know how I could have helped."

"Maybe I could teach you," Seluria said, "If you-

"Quiet," Henry suddenly hissed, "There's a guard coming."

* * * * *

Henry was beginning to wonder if everything was trying to go against them. Considering his options, he quickly decided he'd have to try to bluff the guard. He brought the wagon to a halt in the middle of the street.

"Hello there," the guard, unusually enough, actually sounded pleasant as he approached, "What are you doing?"

"Delivery on behalf of the traders' guild," Henry grunted, letting his impatience enter his voice. Hopefully the guard would get the hint.

As he should have guessed, the guard ignored it. "Well then, you ought to know the council's going to appoint a new head of the guild."

"I didn't know that," Henry calmly lied, "Does that mean you're going to stop me?"

"And lose my job for messing up guild business?" the guard snorted, "I'm no fool. So, if you don't mind me asking, where's the delivery to?"

"Torthrus," Henry told the guard, deciding deception on that matter was pointless. After all, they were on the eastern side of Amestraton, so it wasn't hard to figure out their destination was in that direction. There were not that many towns or villages to the east, and Torthrus was the largest.

"Long road then," the guard shook his head, "You think that has something to do with the traders' guild of Torthrus sending someone here to discuss business about a while ago?"

"I don't know," Henry admitted honestly. On an impulse, he added, "I'm just doing my job."

"I'll believe that," the guard nodded, "Alright, get going. You've got a tough road ahead, with winter here and all."

The guard moved out of their way, and Henry flicked the reins. The wagon began to roll forward again. Henry glanced back to see the guard moving down the street, before they made another turn, putting more of Amestraton out of view.

* * * * *

Mary considered what she'd heard the guard tell Henry. He didn't sound all that bad, but then again, he'd clearly stated he wouldn't go against the city council. If he had really known what they were doing, he would have tried to stop them. Mary did dislike it, but she admitted Henry deceiving the guard was the best option.

"Did someone from Torthrus really visit Amestraton?" Seluria asked, frowning.

"Uh...I think so," Mary spoke slowly, trying to remember, "A few days before your arrival."

"Okay," Seluria said. Mary couldn't guess at what the girl was thinking. It did seem a little foolish to suspect some sort of hidden agenda. Then again, she couldn't be certain with what they'd just gone through.

If there was a problem, which Mary doubted, they'd deal with it once they got to Torthrus. If one thing remained true, even after everything that had happened, it was that worrying about things beyond her control was pointless. All that mattered was making the best of whatever situations she found herself in.

Of course, Mary admitted to herself, she was probably thinking about this too much. There were much more important issues for her to worry about, such as the journey ahead. While she didn't know much about what it involved, she was confident Seluria and Henry could aid her with it. In fact, she was looking forward to it; it was far better than dusting furniture.

* * * * *

Henry let out a sigh of relief as they passed the last of the more closely built buildings. While there were still a few ahead, they were much more scattered. Amestraton was all but behind them now, as the city streets would soon give way to the rolling hills surrounding the city.

Thinking back, Henry still wasn't certain whether he'd made the best possible choices or not. While he couldn't see a way he could have remained in Amestraton, that didn't mean there wasn't one. With a little more planning, it was possible he could have figured out something else that solved all of their problems without such risk.

He'd have to do better in the future. Henry swore to himself that he would be ready for whatever happened. Given the warning Adamkin had given, he needed to, for Mary's sake as well as Seluria's. Still, the church was much less worrying than the Amestraton city council was. After all, the church had to hire mercenaries to get anything underhanded done. Henry, naturally, knew how to handle mercenaries better than most.

He yawned, feeling quite tired. The sun was beginning to set, so Henry knew he needed to start looking for a good place to stop for the night. Preferably one where the wagon could be hidden. Keeping that in mind, he turned his attention back to the wooded hills ahead.

* * * * *

Mary looked out the back of the wagon, staring at the dimly lit forest around her. It was a little awkward, admitting she'd never really seen so many trees before in her life. She was fairly certain she didn't want to confess that detail in front of Seluria or even Henry. While they would probably understand, they'd still be able to joke about it.

Turning, Mary felt herself smile as she caught sight of Seluria. For all her claims of not being all that tired, Seluria had fallen asleep, and was now snoring faintly. Again, it saddened her a little that someone as young as the elven girl had gone through what she did. Of course, no one deserved to go through it, but especially not Seluria.

Henry sat silently, studying the road ahead. Given the setting sun, Mary suspected he was trying to find a place to camp. Given how tired he had looked before, combined with the sleeping Seluria, she agreed with the idea. In fact, she could use a good place to sleep herself.

Turning back again, Mary stared back at where Amestraton was. It wasn't visible now, but she could still see the city in her mind. She could remember all the terrible things, and all the wonderful things. For a moment, she thought she could actually see some lights, distant yet clear, shining from the city she once called home...

Mary shook her head, clearing away such foolish thoughts. She'd sworn not to be nostalgic, and she'd hold to that. With a quiet sigh, she turned away, looking ahead to the road - and the future - before them.

* * * * *

### The End

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About the author:

Chris Mitchell is a resident of Conyers, GA, where he has lived most of his life. When not writing down his ideas for fantasy and science fiction, he enjoys reading other novels, playing a few video games, or occasional skateboarding escapades.

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Blog: http://chrismitchelltheauthor.blogspot.com/

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