They were led to a mill of all places, a tiny two story shack of rotten wood and molding stone set between two rolling hills on the outskirts of town. Two burly looking women were pushing a wheel stone in the middle when they entered, flour pouring into the outstretched trough.

"He'll see you down there," one of the rebels said, voice raised over the din of grinding stone. He jabbed a finger towards the basement steps. "I'll stay here. Make sure we weren't followed."

"Delightful," Libro murmured, knowing full well the trap he was walking into. Given the loud, droning noise. The dark, dank cellar. Perfect place to murder a couple of outsiders and dump their corpses in the sea. He looked at Elba for guidance, but she merely shrugged, not knowing what else to do either. Stick with the plan and see just how deep in the shit they could get, he reckoned.

Rickety wooden steps creaked under foot as they stepped down, the claustrophobic pit below barely high enough to keep your head from knocking. A scarred table sat in the center surrounded by heaping sacks of flour, two chairs facing each other, one of them occupied.

Shayn Mordenson was a grizzled looking strip of meat. He sat tall and sinewy in his chair, arms crossed to reveal ropes of well labored muscles. His face was a dagger of suspicion aimed straight at Libro, eyes narrowed, a deep frown carved in his iron gray whiskers.

"You the Imperial agents I'm expecting?" he asked, his voice low and slow like rolling thunder.

"I am," Libro said, waving down for the others. "We are."

"Good." Shayn smiled as he lifted up one hand and clicked his fingers. Three bowmen slid out from the sacks of flour, arrows knocked tight aiming straight at them.

"Let's start by relieving you of your sharp assets and then we'll talk," Shayn said, smiling through yellow teeth. "An armed society is a polite society, but we are not polite society now are we, my little tin soldiers?"

"Touch my ax and I'll break you in two," Cent snarled.

"You'll be dead before you take a single step," one of the bowmen hissed back, a woman barely twenty with high cheekbones and a rakishly sharp chin.

"You think a single arrow will stop me, girl?"

"It will when I plant it right between your eyes!"

"Enough, Tergrid," Shayn said, eyes sliding towards her. "There's no need for threats. Not when the balance of power is so clearly understood." He turned his attention back to Libro. "My good man I must apologize for the words of my subordinate, but would you kindly tell your own to stand down and relinquish his weapons? I promise to give them back after we've had ourselves a chat."

"Cent, lose the ax," Libro commanded. "Moss, kill them with your bare hands if you have too."

"Aye," Moss said as he tossed his ax on the ground.

"Farking shite," Cent muttered as he threw his own weapon aside. One by one a small pile grew from their turned over weapons, Brands metal staff clattering last.

The rebel known as Tergrid smirked at the twisted pole of metal. "Not much of a weapon, 'lest your planning to poke someone's eye out with it." She turned her nose up, eyeing Brand with a look that dared him to answer back.

And sadly, the boy took the bait all too easy. "You'd be surprised what a piece of metal can do to a man," he growled, voice cracking ever so slightly as puberty reared its ugly head. Hard to believe the boy was still two years short of twenty, right until he opened his big mouth, Nido bless him.

"Tergrid," Shayn warned her.

"Cinnis," Libro snapped back.

Both rebel and Wizard went rigid at being addressed, the boy's ears quickly glowing red, the girl's neck flushing even brighter.

"My apologies for the outburst, Mr. Mordenson. It will not happen again," Libro said, eyeing Brand as he cautiously descended the remaining stairs. "My name is Captain Libro, of the Vangen Royal Guard."

"Quite the fancy title for one so young. You barely look a fifth of your century left on this miserable rock." Shayn eyed him warily.

"A year over my fourth if you'd believe it."

The rebel leader studied him for a moment before turning his gaze to Elba. "And such fancy titles should come with an even fancier entourage, I reckon? Who are your little friends?" He asked.

"This is Elba," Libro said, pausing as he tried to think up a title. Something interesting. Something exotic. Something believable enough for a man paranoid enough to have three arrows prickling your backside over a chat. "From the Confederation of Nitra."

He could feel his wife's gaze burning into the back of the head as he leaned forward tapping the table three times with his finger nail. Enough to remind her of the game they both were setting up together.

"Never heard of it," Shayn said.

"It's a province to the north east of the Empire where their people train in all manners of warfare. Even the women. Their people were threatened by the Vostoch hordes in the Antiquity days until the Empire intervened and together found prosperity in both alliance and trade."

A lie of course. Nitra was little more than a fantasy cooked up by Elba during their early days together during the Siege of Middengard. Why he'd chosen it he had no idea, but he wasn't about to stop his iron mask and silver tongue from making the magick happen.

"How very prosperous. And the boy? I take it he's more than a simple sour annoyance like my Tergrid here?" The rebel girl shot Shayn a look, but thankfully kept any opinions she had to herself.

"This is Cinnis, my ambassador from Middengard and heir apparent of the Medial Valleys. When his uncle, Raylein, tried to have him assassinated in order to take the throne, we intervened and helped end his uncle's tyranny. He's been a loyal ally of the Empire ever since."

Another lie, save the loyalty part, but Libro was weaving his story too quickly to try and stop now. Lies and truths fell out of his mouth like woven spells, his body light as a feather, the burning pain in his arm all but gone now.

That name struck a bell this time as Shayn's eyes widened a bit. "Raylein? Raylein Stelegrim?"

"The very same."

"You killed the bastard?"

"That we did."

"Always wondered where that Wyrd bastard ran off too. Was a big name in Danic before he fled from King Erik's terror. Wondered where he'd end up. Never expected him to try and take over entire kingdoms."

"Big names always seek bigger titles, but some just can't carry the weight." Libro slid into the chair, voice oily smooth as he leaned in. "You see where I'm going with this, don't you?"

Shayn frowned at him. "And what would that be, tin man?"

"The Empire takes care of its allies and the Vangen are very good at making problems go away. Whether it's hordes of wildmen from the eastern plains or the savage politics of a Medial coup, we have the necessary resources to make sure your Lightbringers stay on the winning side."

Shayn thought about that. He thought about it for a good long while, brows rising and falling as he weighed out the odds. "Nothing ever comes free with an offer like that. Don't pretend I'm ignorant of the bigger picture here. Empire's do not expand their borders on friendship alone. Besides, we've been fighting on the losing side for twenty five years now. Your Empire could have given us a helping hand any time since then. Why now?"

""I'll admit we've had our own troubles to deal with back then. Civil war raged across our countryside when our Imperial Ministry of Sorcerers tried to kill the Empress and install a puppet. It took three campaigns and besieging our own city before we finally put it to rest, and it was the Vangen alone who stitched the Empire back together. Just as we can now for Danic."

More truths. More lies. Libro was bending history into new, unfamiliar patterns. It didn't matter that it was the Empress's rise that sparked the civil war, nor did it matter that it was her callous cruelty that sent the Vangen chasing after their fallen brothers until they'd killed them all with a magickal bomb in Orienta. It didn't matter which way you looked at it, the Empire and its enemies were nothing more than a pack of vile schemers.

All that mattered was that Shayn Mordenson believed him.

And he did. Libro could see it in his eyes. That faint glimmer in a dead man's eyes when he sees hope. Shayn was no fool, but he was no historian either. Libro could've told the man they'd killed Jotuns and slain towering Iron Knights, which they had, and the man would have lapped up every word.

"What are you offering me, tin man?"

"I'm offering you the Vangen's support in your effort to dethrone King Erik. He's too much of a threat along Middengard's borders a year fresh from the siege. And any threat to Middengard is a threat to the Empire."

"How many men?" Shayn demanded.

"Two thousand battle hardened warriors supported by cavalry and siege equipment."

"Two thousand will barely put a dent in King Erik's armor."

"I'm not giving you a hammer," Libro said. "I'm giving you a spear tip. The Vangen aren't going to kill King Erik's rabble," and he slammed the table hard with his good hand, making Mordenson flinch. "The Vangen are going to give you King Erik's head."

Shayn swallowed as he sat back up, watching Libro with renewed suspicion. "And what do I have to give up in order to make this devil's deal?"

Libro counted the arrangements on his fingers. "You protect Middengard's northern borders from any potential invaders. You agree to a trade agreement with the Imperial treasury. And you provide a yearly tithe of warriors for the Vangen's ranks. We can start with a hundred." He held his hand out. "Do we have a deal?"

Shayn eyed his hand, frown deepening as he bent over to reach it.

"There is one more thing," Libro said, pulling his hand back. "Of a personal matter."

"And that is?"

"The Vangen recently had a deserter in our ranks. A crime considered punishable by death by our Empress. We tracked his whereabouts here at Danic, but we lost his trail soon after. Considering the coincidence knocking at my door, I couldn't simply pass up the chance.

"And you want my help finding him?" Shayn demanded.

"I figured his best chance of survival was blending in with your Lightbringers. He's a native of this land and a good fighter. I'm sure anyone would welcome him into the ranks without much suspicion.

"Does he have a name?"

"Goes by Regis. Not his real one, but it carries weight within our rank."

"What's he look like?"

"Hard to describe, but I'll know him when I see him."

"Your not given me much to go on, Captain."

"Aye, but don't worry. He's not at the top of my list. Taking care of your problem is. As I said though, the Vangen are meant to be a spear tip, not a hammer. If you don't have the sufficient numbers to fight King Erik's army, then our deal is reneged. The Empress only deals in absolutes."

To Libro's surprise, Shayn smiled at that. "Oh, if it's numbers you're worried about, you can put that particular burden to rest. One trip to Middlefort and you'll be seeing quite the hammering we've got in store for King Erik."

Libro licked his lips, knowing full well when it was time to seal the deal. "Well then. Sounds like we've a long journey to help us get well acquainted with one another." He held out his hand again and this time Shayn took it, his grip like an iron vice. He did his best not to wince. "By the way. I've been meaning to ask. Do you know where Keela ran off too?"

"That farking witch?" Shayn snarled, animosity boiling to the surface. "Hopefully falling down a waterfall if my prayers were ever answered. I'd sooner wring her neck myself if she weren't so bloody useful to the rebellion."

"She is quite the schemer," Libro said. "Let's just hope she doesn't get over her head one day."

"Oh aye," The man leaned in close, a rueful look in his eye. "But best be warned, Imperial. That woman has keen eyes for weakness, and a tongue made of silver. She'll encircle you like a viper, and squeeze you tight when it's too late to run. She probably told you all her fancy names when you first met, didn't she?" He asked all of a sudden.

Libro didn't like where this conversation was going. "She did. Why?"

"Cause she uses them to play every side and has a name for each of them. You may know her as Keela, but Crehl Due Murgan was the name I grew up knowing. The witch that made the rebellion for what it is." He sighed and sat back, fists gripped tight against the table. "And what it ultimately could have been had she not interfered."