OoOoO

The StormRider slid across the surface of Aryna Lake like a duck on a millpond; with scarcely a sound and only ever-widening rings of ripples in its wake. Lhara's twenty years contained precious little knowledge of sea-faring up to this point, but even the most seasoned crewmembers of the StormRider joined her at the ship's rail to marvel at the beauty of Blue Stone.

They had passed Syrion nearly three days ago. The famous Syrinese Baths had been somewhat underwhelming to Lhara, appearing to be little more than a series of cubby-like rock formations etched into the sides of the sandstone cliffs. Granted, the cliffs themselves were imposing, and a collection of canopies of red, yellow, and orange peeking through the dense green foliage up top added a spot of colour to Goran's western coastline. When Lhara had mentioned her disappointment to Reyson however, he simply chuckled and shook his head.

"The baths are meant to be an attraction for the sake of passers-by, Lhara. Their true worth is only for those wealthy patrons who can afford the gatekeepers' fee. Picture sitting in a natural hot-spring filled with the brightest blue-green water, a glass of chilled wine in hand and the sea stretching out below you as far as the eye can see. Especially at sundown, when minstrels play on the clifftop, there can be no better place in all Goran."

"You've been to the baths, then? In person?" asked Lhara, her curiosity piqued.

"Once or twice" was all Reyson would say before dropping the matter altogether. From what Lhara knew about the swordsman though, she gathered such a trip must have had something to do with Kiiss. No doubt, in happier times before the rebellion, the opulent ArtSeller must have frequented such a place.

The beauty of Blue Stone, on the other hand, was free for all to enjoy. Nestled twenty leagues inland by way of the broad Ramida River, the city sat fully-fronted upon the shores of Lake Aryna. Here, so much further north than the sun-drenched, white sand beaches of Utunma, there was a crispness to the wind, a sweetness to the morning mist that hinted at coming autumn. Lake Aryna sat cradled in a bowl of steep hills, so thickly carpeted in grasses and moss that the hillsides seemed to ripple like brushed velvet beneath the breeze. White fog encircled streamed like ribbons around the highest spires of the city rooftops, and Yidu told Lhara that she could see owls, circling Blue Stone in peaceful circles as they came home to roost for the day.

Blue Stone itself was to Lhara a curious mix between all she knew of Moaan, and her memories of home. The city sat largely upon a natural jetty of mossy rock, surrounded by docks tidily built from a collection of white wood and stones. Dozens of boats sat quietly at anchor, the day still too young yet for work to begin. One sailboat was setting sail onto the lake though, from what looked to be a private dock along the shore. Although Lhara couldn't make out the tiny figures on board, she saw the sail; a triangle of white against the grey-green hills.

Beyond the docks, the city proper made up for the lack of open land by stretching upward, its highest spires seemingly reaching up to touch the last of the fading morning stars. A castle with many smaller towers encircling it sat at the center of Blue Stone, and all around it the city grew outward in gradually shortening spirals, down to the ground-level buildings on the lake's waterfront. Everything seemed to be built from the same round, pale lake stones, with dark shingled roofs.

The true beauty of Blue Stone lay not above the water though, but beneath it. Leaning far over the rail of the StormRider, Lhara understood how the city had gotten its name.

So far inland up the Ramida River, the waters of Lake Aryna were so clear and calm, Lhara could see all the way to the bottom. The entire bottom of the lake was made up of large blue-grey stones, some silvery like frost, while others gleamed with the same impossible smoothness as the tunnel from Hollowtop Mountain. Drifting across the water, as clear and perfect as glass, the sensation of floating came to Lhara, and for a moment she wondered if the StormRider wasn't sailing in midair.

"Ready to dock." Despite the beauty of their surroundings, Captain Dagaan sounded tense. "Reyson, you're up."

"Right then, let's make this nice and quick." Ebn, absent his usual easy smile, stood by the entrance to the hold with his hands in his pockets. "Everyone belowdecks with the cargo. The merchants should be ready and waiting for us, Madame Kiiss said they'll be bringing their own unloaders."

Seeing Reyson move toward the front of the deck as if he intended to disembark before the captain, Lhara looked quizzically at Yidu. The younger girl shook her head, but leaned in to whisper.

"Undor's rebelling, remember? A ship full of southerners pulling up at port this far north...we could be in for trouble. That's why Dagaan and his crew stole this caravel earlier this summer...so we wouldn't have to risk sailing a dhow or mtepe in these waters. To be safe, Reyson will pose as captain and speak to the harbormaster."

"Oh..." Lhara glanced up to the quarterdeck where Dagaan had left the helm. He and a handful of other sailors busied themselves with the anchor chain, shirt sleeves rolled down and sun hats pulled low over their faces. To a stranger, at a distance, the StormRider now looked to be any other ship out of Blue Stone, complete with a grey-eyed, local-born captain.

The Utunman crew weren't the only ones hiding their faces. The sun hadn't even crested over the hilltops yet, but when Jath appeared atop the ladder from the bunks, Lhara was surprised to see his fraying black hood pulled up as far over his head as it would go. He came to join Lhara and Yidu at the railing as they slid to a stop at anchor. There was a faraway look in his colourless eyes as he took in Blue Stone. Lhara was beginning to wonder if she was just about the only person aboard the StormRider who was actually excited to be there (which, considering she had initially had to be guilted into coming on this entire venture, rang of truest irony). She nudged Jath's arm lightly with her elbow, and he gave her a quick, distracted smile.

Though he may not have been the actual captain of the StormRider, Reyson certainly played the part convincingly as he strode down the gangplank. Blue Stone's harbourmaster – a rosy-cheeked woman wearing a lopsided cloth hat atop honey-brown curls – stood waiting on the dock.

"Good morning!" she called out in a cheery, booming voice. "You're in early! Ship's name, captain's name, length of stay, and business in Blue Stone?"

"Good morning Izzy. I see you finally got that promotion you'd always wanted."

The harbourmaster's mouth fell open, and when she got a proper, close-up look at Reyson her charcoal pencil nearly fumbled out of her hands.

"Reyson Hollistor! Amenthis's beard, of all the people to meet! Where have you-"

"Shush, Izzy! If you could not shout my name all the way from here to Vaelona, I'd be very grateful."

Izzy wrinkled her nose, then jabbed Reyson smartly in the arm with her pencil for good measure. "Well for goodness sake, what should I call you then? Lord Hollistor's runaway brother? Sir Seadog? It's been years!" Seeming to remember why they were even there, she leaned around him to eye the StormRider. "Gone and gotten into the captaining business then, have you?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. I'm afraid I'm not here for long though. Just dropping off some cargo and passengers. I'll be staying ashore to take them a little ways out of town - a favour to some old friends - so my first mate will be taking the ship back downriver today."

"Right, right..." Izzy was really looking at the StormRider now, particularly at the faded yellow paint around the port holes and the carven figurehead; a hippocampus surging atop rolling waves.

Reyson, apparently deciding that the harbourmaster's scrutiny was not a good thing, waved Lhara, Jath, and Yidu down the gangplank. The three of them made the crossing to join Reyson on the dock. Between Lhara with her wild plaits and sweaty, second-hand clothes, Jath with his dark hood and Yidu obviously a southerner, they must have made quite the spectacle. Izzy's attention was immediately redirected from the ship to them.

"My goodness! These are the passengers you mentioned, then?"

"Yes. Everyone, this is Isadore Ven, Harbourmaster of Blue Stone." Reyson paused, then reluctantly added "She and I went to school together, a long time ago."

That seemed to do the trick in restoring Izzy's previous friendly demeanor, at least toward Reyson. "Oh you! You make it sound like we're old and gathering wrinkles now! You might let the sun make a waste of your face, I never forget my hat and aloe vera cream! One would scarcely know that we're the same age now, wouldn't you say?" Threading her arm through Reyson's, Izzy turned them both toward the group, clearly expecting reassurance despite her smile.

"To be honest, Mistress Ven, I at first assumed that Captain Reyson was your uncle, or some other manner of older relation. Please forgive my presumption."

Jath's soft, refined accent was on full display, as Lhara had not heard it since he had revealed his full name and rank to the Factionist leaders outside Moaan. He kept his hood up, but that didn't seem to bother Izzy. She was so amused by Jath's unsubtle flattery that she burst out laughing.

"You see, Reyson?! You may be born into nobility, but even a stranger off a boat can give me better compliments than you! I have half a mind to add a lun onto your docking fee just to annoy you for that."

Reyson ground his jaw and huffed. "An owl nesting on Mirrormorn Castle is closer akin to a nobleman than I am, Izzy, and you know it. Now, what's the fee for a morning at dock?"

Izzy once again sized up the StormRider, this time with a businesswoman's eye. "A caravel, is it? Three-masted? Right, that'll be...two luns for anchorage fee, then another three for mooring. But I'll knock a lun off, just because it's you." She shot Reyson a conspirator's wink.

Digging into the bag of coins on his belt, Reyson glanced around briefly. "I'll pay the full price if you don't mention to anyone that this ship is The Swiftling out of Heart Lake. I know you've noticed, Izzy, so don't bother denying it."

"Well of course I noticed, you think I haven't spent the last forty years of my life around these docks?!" Izzy stuck out her hand for the coins. She took another long look at Lhara, Jath, and Yidu...particularly Yidu. "You do know that that ship was reported stolen last month? Reyson, what kind of business have you gotten yourself into?"

"The kind that doesn't take well to being discussed with the Blue Stone Women's Art Society. So please, Izzy, do me this favour?"

Izzy stood, pencil and parchment in hand, eyeing Reyson just as intently as he was staring at her. Lhara, Jath, and Yidu all kept quiet, not daring to get in the middle of whatever long-standing dynamic was at play here.

Finally, Izzy rolled her eyes. "Oh alright, for Aryna's sake. You owe me though! In fact, you still owe me for getting you out of that entanglement with the fellow from Amenthere! You remember, the one who you got cold fee-"

Lhara had never seen Reyson look so alarmed. He all but leapt forward, leaning into Izzy's space with danger written all over his stubbly, sun-browned face.

"Not. Now."

Izzy just grinned. "Don't worry, I'll remember for both of us. Go on, unload your ship and deliver your 'passengers'! I can see several merchants chomping at the bit over there, ready and eager to get their hands on whatever goods you may have in your hold. Let me guess, lobster and pearls feature somewhere on the First Mate's manifest...?"

Reyson sighed. "Fine, I'll ask Ebn to set aside a pair of lobster tails for you."

"Hooray! Welcome back to Blue Stone, Captain Reyson."

OoOoO

After retrieving their meager belongings from the bunks, Lhara, Jath, Yidu, and Reyson disembarked from the StormRider for the last time. They left Dagaan and Ebn quietly overseeing the exchange of goods and coin with the merchants of Blue Stone; illegal now but as necessary as ever for the livelihoods of both Undor and the rest of Goran. Halwii waved to them from the rigging as they walked away, and Lhara waved back even as Yidu determinedly pretended not to notice.

"When do we meet our contact?" Jath asked Reyson.

"Not until dinnertime. Meanwhile, we need to find ourselves an inn and get cleaned up."

He wasn't wrong. After nearly a week at sea, wearing mostly the same clothes and unbathed since Utunma, they were all smelling pretty ripe. Dried seawater crusted their hairlines and the hems of their clothes a salty white. Reyson and Jath had been neglecting to shave, and now both sported the beginnings of short beards and mustaches. Lhara especially was itching for a wash; she had been hoping they would arrive in Blue Stone before her monthly bleed started. They hadn't.

Reyson moved through the streets of Blue Stone with the familiarity of a local. Lhara, Jath, and Yidu trailed after him, three lost ducklings in a world unlike anything Lhara had ever seen before. She was used to the simple village life of Trosk, and even Falerik and Utunma, different though they were, hadn't been all that much larger compared to home. Blue Stone was a city though, as different from Trosk as its residents were to the mountainfolk.

The first thing Lhara noticed was the women. Her best friend, Yelaina, had widely been considered the most beautiful girl in all of Trosk. Even Yelaina hadn't worn pretty skirts and jewelry like these ladies of Blue Stone though. Even a young mother with a basket of bread on one hip and a small child on the other wore an embroidered blue dress, the hem sweeping the cobbles of the street as she passed them by. The girls wore their long, fair hair not in braids, but free-flowing down their backs with the occasional clip or pin to ornament it. Older women seemed to like to keep their hair pinned up in tidy coifs, their aprons pressed and white and their heeled shoes clicking on the street behind them. Compared to the tidy, well-kept folk of Blue Stone, Lhara felt a mess.

The staring did not help. Caught up in the amazement of a new place, Lhara's roving gaze constantly kept landing on the wide-eyed faces of strangers. Some seemed merely curious, while others outright glared. It didn't take long to realize that the Gorians' ire was largely directed at Yidu. With a burgeoning rebellion on everyone's mind, it seemed that Bakko's previous warnings of animosity toward southerners had not been exaggerated. Feeling protective, Lhara sidled up to Yidu and linked her arm through the other girl's.

Jath meanwhile trailed just slightly behind, his hood still firmly up. He did not seem quite as unfamiliar with Blue Stone as Lhara and Yidu; occasionally he even let Reyson get far enough ahead so as to drop out of sight. Always Jath reappeared though, unerringly following the group to wherever Reyson was leading them.

Reyson's intended destination turned out to be an inn, about halfway up through the city between the lakeshore and the Mirrormorn castle. A freshly painted sign named the place 'The LightHouse', and attached to the inn behind an ivy-strewn garden wall appeared to be a sort of bathhouse. Or at least Lhara guessed as much, judging by the scent of perfumed steam rising from the building's open windows.

"Wait here," said Reyson. "I'll get us rooms."

"And breakfast!" Yidu added. "I'm starving!"

Reyson was only gone for a few minutes, during which time Lhara, Yidu, and Jath milled about awkwardly by the gate. The morning was in full force now, and people were everywhere. A group of children – probably on their way to school judging by the books under their arms – passed by, many gawking at the three strangers. Lhara found she didn't mind their attention as much as the adults down the by docks though. At least children were honest about their curiosity, rather than cloaking it in suspicion. One little girl even waved, and Jath was actually the first to give her a quick wave back.

"Tarun would give his left arm for even one of those books," Lhara remarked, feeling a now familiar pang of homesickness.

Jath looked at her from beneath his hood. "He needn't go to such extremes. Maybe, when this is over, we could bring your brother some new books. Vaelona has entire libraries full of them."

"They do?!"

"Oh yes, some even written about the mountainfolk."

Reyson appeared in the inn doorway, a quick jerk of his head beckoning them inside. The look on the innkeeper's face made it clear that, if he had seen them before Reyson had paid for the rooms, he might have claimed no vacancy instead. The coins had already changed hands though, and the innkeeper had no choice but to give them their keys and point them on their way.

"The LightHouse is a quiet establishment," he made a point of telling them on their way upstairs. "We don't want any trouble here, understood?"

"What makes you think we'll be any trouble?" demanded Lhara tartly.

The man opened his mouth, saw the belawa hanging on Yidu's hip and the longsword on Reyson's, and apparently thought the better of it. Reyson reached down and gave Lhara's arm a sharp tug.

"Keep that kind of cheek to yourself! We're only in Blue Stone for a day or so, we can't afford to go starting trouble this close to the capital. Mahir would be only too happy to send out soldiers or, stars help us, an Obad to come catch Factionists in his own backyard."

Yidu patted Lhara's shoulder. "Come on. The sooner we get cleaned up, the sooner we can eat."

Cautioned but not apologetic, Lhara quietly followed Yidu to their room. The lure of experiencing a real bathhouse for the first time in her life quickly brightened her mood. Yidu seemed to feel the same. Dropping their bags and retrieving a few toiletries, a spirit of girlhood infused both Lhara and Yidu. The two of them ran giggling down the inn's stairs, prompting the innkeeper to yell at them again even as they left the garden door swinging in their wake.

OoOoO

The bathhouse, although not quite living up to Reyson's rosy description of the cliffside baths at Syrion, certainly far outstripped any shower in an icy mountainside stream Lhara had ever had. Dark slate tiles gleamed in the rosy morning glow pouring in from the garden, a light breeze making the long cotton curtains on either side of the doorway flutter across the stones. The bath itself was a long, rectangular pool built into the floor, the water lightly steaming from underground heat source. Planted like a tiny thicket in a pot in the corner, sticks of incense sent tendrils of rose-scented smoke spiraling up to the wooden rafters. Fluffy white towels hung neatly on a rack, ready and waiting. This early in the morning, there was nobody else in the women's bath, although Lhara and Yidu could hear low voices from the other side of the dividing wall where the men's baths were.

Leaving their dirty, salt-streaked clothes in a crumpled pile, Lhara and Yidu were only too happy to strip to the skin and sink into the warm water of the bath. As she began undoing her two-day old plaits, Lhara let out a hum of ultimate relief.

"Haaaaaa...so this is why I agreed to come on this trip."

Yidu laughed, likewise taking the cord out of the back of her thick black curls and leaning back into the water. "And here I was thinking you agreed to come because of Jath!"

"Not just Jath! When I heard that you were going to be asked as well, I wanted to come with you both."

"Hmm, Lhara?"

"Yes?"

"Stop me if I'm wrong, but it is Jath that you're fixing to pursue...right?"

Remembering what Yidu had told her on the boat, Lhara felt heat crawling up the back of her neck that had nothing to do with the steaming bath.

"Oh! I'm sorry Yidu...but I didn't mean..."

To Lhara's surprise and chagrin, Yidu laughed aloud, the sound ringing gaily off the stone walls. "No, don't be sorry! Here I was worrying that I might have to be the one to be turning you away! Don't get me wrong, I adore you, but my preference is more along the lines of a CoinDancer's figure. You know?"

"Erm...that's good?" said Lhara, actually not knowing at all what a CoinDancer looked like. "I mean, good, because I really like you too! As a friend, like you said!"

"Bury my bones though, you are cute when you're flustered. Too bad we don't have as clear a way of telling as the men do, yas?"

"What do you mean?"

Yidu paused in mid-scrub with a bar of soap. "The earrings? The little red stud that Reyson wears in one ear?"

Lhara could only shrug helplessly. It felt like she'd been living under a rock all these years, instead of on top of the world.

"Don't feel bad, it's kind of a not-so-secret secret. In Goran, when a man wears a red stone pierced through one ear, it's a signal that he's wanting a husband, rather than a wife."

"Oh. OH!"

Yidu was laughing again. "Maybe we should have paired Reyson and I in one room, and you and Jath in the other! Then again though, that would hardly make for a peaceful sleeping arrangement either. So, are you going to tell me if you and Jath are...?"

"Since when did you become the village gossip, Yidu??" Lhara groaned, sinking down in the bath until the water was right at her nose.

"Come on now! A girl my age can't be a treasonous, murderous Factionist day in and day out! At least tell me if I'm right or not?"

Lhara surfaced only just far enough for Yidu to hear her mumbled reply. "Yes...we kissed."

"Ha! I thought so! You should have seen him scurrying for the men's bunk that night on the StormRider! You would have thought I'd caught him robbing the royal treasury!"

"I didn't exactly set out to court him, you know," protested Lhara. "It just sort of...turned out that way. I didn't even really intend to stay after Falerik. But then there was the Uprising, and now this trip to Hashodi, and meeting you and Reyson and Vinie..."

"Face it Lhara; you're a barnacle."

"What?"

"A barnacle. The little creatures that grow on the bottom of boats? You're thoroughly attached to our Factionist vessel now, it seems."

That didn't sit as well with Lhara as Yidu no doubt intended it to. Frowning, she pawed her wet hair out of her eyes and sat up on the stony bench carved into the side of the bath.

"I didn't really intend for that to happen either. Sula and Nadathan and their Factionists...their coming to Trosk was the beginning of the end of the only life I'd ever known. A lot of people were angry at the Factionists after the fact, especially at Jath."

Now it was Yidu's turn to frown. Likewise scooting up onto the side of the bath, she leaned forward to face Lhara.

"Were you angry at Jath? You know it wasn't his fault, what happened at Trosk. He wasn't making decisions; he was just there. If you're going to be angry at anybody..." Yidu's dark eyes bored into Lhara's with direct intensity "...then you should be angry at people like Vinie, Gideo, and me. I'm sorry for what happened to your village, but you saw what Mahir did to Utunma. I wouldn't take back any part of the rebellion, nor would I do anything different from Vinie if I were in her place."

"Does it ever bother you though, what's happened to the people caught up in it all? What might still happen?"

Yidu's gaze burned straight through Lhara. "My older sister and our parents were already caught up in it. Mahir had them arrested during the riots in Moaan almost two years ago. They were executed by the magistrate's men before Lord Xolani and Lady Oesu could help. I was fourteen at the time."

"Oh Yidu...I'm so sorry. Vinie had mentioned something about them during the meeting in Utunma, but I didn't really know."

There was a bittersweet edge to Yidu's smile. "You didn't have to know, before now. Acquaintances share good times, but only real friends share the bad times too."

Lhara nodded. "Well I know now. And I'm with you, for as long as it takes to make sure Mahir can never do to anyone else what he's done to us."

For a long moment, the two young women sat there on the edge of the bath, looking at one another. Then a bird trilled outside in the garden and the gravity of the moment burst like a soap bubble. Sliding back into the water, Yidu tip-toed across to Lhara, brush in hand.

"Come on, let's finish up. If I don't get something to eat in the next hour, I may just eat that bar of soap!"

OoOoO

The afternoon was largely spent lazing about their rooms in The Lighthouse, nibbling on food Reyson bought at the market for them and napping. He also went out and bought them all new clothes, which for Lhara turned out to be a double-edged sword.

"I should have thought to ask him for an outfit like yours, Yidu!" Lhara groused. At first, she had been excited at the prospect of a pretty dress like the women of Blue Stone wore. It turned out though that the thing came not only with embroidery and new shoes, but also a built-in corset. Although it made Lhara's waist look smaller than she had ever thought possible, it was also, quite possibly, the second most uncomfortable thing she had ever worn. First place went undisputedly to the stiff, square-heeled shoes, their delicate polished buckles glinting ominously up at Lhara even as they gnawed away at her heels. The woolen socks Reyson had found did little to reduce the discomfort when she walked. However, between the soft, spring green of her dress and the restored gleam of her hair as it fell in brushed waves down to the small of her back, Lhara did have to admit that she felt pretty, perhaps even a little like one of the characters from Tarun's book collection.

Yidu had been thinking ahead. After giving clear 'dos' and 'don'ts' to Reyson, she had been brought a comfortable looking purple blouse with fitted doeskin trousers and flat-soled boots. Reyson had also thrown in a felt hat with a ribbon around the brim, the better to keep Yidu at least somewhat inconspicuous in a crowd. She looked perfectly at ease as they walked through the streets of Blue Stone to the restaurant where they would be meeting Kiiss's contact. All Reyson had told them about this mysterious contact was that they were the head of a mercenary company, one which routinely made trips into the Night Forest and was more than willing to do business with Factionists.

As for Reyson and Jath, the two of them had both cleaned up as well. Reyson had bought himself a fitted red jerkin jerkin over a plain linen shirt, complimented by leather trousers and boots. He had also shaved, and Lhara imagined that if he and Izzy Ven stood side-by-side now they might look at least similar in age.

The transformation in Jath was perhaps the most dramatic of all. Gone were the threadbare cloak and faded clansfolk garments. Gone also was Jath, the homeless Factionist. For the first time, Lhara came face to face with Jatheryn Saurivic, noble-born heir to the Saurivic family of Vaelona. He had not only shaved, but also washed, trimmed, and dyed his hair. It appeared a rather odd shade of pale blonde in the late afternoon sun, and Lhara quietly preferred his natural bone-white. Decked out in a grey doublet the colour of owl feathers - embroidered at the shoulders and wrists with silver scrollwork and belted at the waist – he seemed to carry himself differently. Reyson hadn't had too much money to spend on clothes, but it was apparent from the cut of Jath's doublet to the newness of his boots and black pants that he'd put the extra effort in to make the Factionist's key Vaelonese nobleman look the part once more.

The change was apparent not just in Jath's appearance, but his mannerisms as well. As they waited outside the restaurant for the seating hostess, he walked directly up to Lhara and stood before her.

"I would scarcely have recognized you, Lhara, if you hadn't been standing with Yidu in The LightHouse's common room. You look beautiful."

Lhara rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the discomfort of the corset. Yidu had tied it as loosely as possible, but the ribbing was still far too stiff against her chest for Lhara's liking. That, and her feet were smarting just from the walk over. It was perhaps for these reasons that she greeted Jath's compliment with perhaps a little more sarcasm than necessary.

"Maybe if you hadn't recognized me, I could have gone back upstairs and changed into my old clothes. Why does this mercenary friend of Kiiss's care what I look like?"

Jath chuckled quietly. "All part of the politics of the situation, I fear. The whole purpose of our trip to Hashodi is to try to sell the legitimacy of the Factionist movement to the north. We don't know how their regent will react to the entreaty to join open rebellion. If we can project an image of authority to the north, they might be more willing to consider us a valid challenge to the Amenthis dynasty. That's part of why Reyson and I were chosen to come; so Vinie can send the message that Undor has support not just from within, but also from members of the Gorian nobility."

"That's right! The harbourmaster said that Reyson is Lord Hollistor's 'errant brother', or something like that?"

Reyson, who had been pretending not to overhear Lhara and Jath, coughed. The door of the restaurant opened, and a hostess in a fashionable wine-red gown came walking down the immaculate pathway to the gate. Jath obligingly lowered his voice.

"That's right, Reyson is technically nobility too, although he left Blue Stone and was disowned years ago. Perhaps nobody in Hashodi knows that though."

"Alright lovebirds, it's time!" whispered Yidu.

With a pleasant if disengaged smile from between painted red lips, the hostess opened the gate to allow them in.

"Welcome Master Reyson and company. You're expected out on the back porch. If you will please follow me..."

As they made their way through the restaurant, Lhara now understood why Reyson had brought her such fancy clothes. The clientele of the place were clearly all either minor nobility or wealthy business class. Beautiful women with calculating eyes sipped their drinks from goblets held by painted fingertips. Men dressed in impeccably cut doublets and jackets sat casually fiddling with their money clasps, assessing one another, the room, and everything in it as if it belonged to them. Many pairs of eyes inevitably landed on the four of them as they followed the hostess, and Lhara abruptly felt very young and very small.

The porch was much more pleasant. Drenched in the warmth of a setting late-summer sun, the scent of flowers was everywhere. Wooden trellises laden with all manner of blooming greenery fenced in the seating area, separating patrons from casual view of the street. Tablecloths of spun silk fluttered in the gently stirring air, and Lhara almost gasped with delight when she spotted a hummingbird whirring behind one woman's head. The restaurant was situated perfectly on the hillside; gaps in the trellises allowed a panoramic view of Lake Aryna below, from the opening onto the Ramida River to the tiny white sails of boats drifting along the shore.

"Here we are," said the hostess, her voice taking on a distinctively warmer tone as she approached the man waiting alone at a table in the furthest corner of the yard. "Lord Darenel Tremaris, your guests have arrived."

The man stood, pushing back his chair against a spray of gladiolus flowers. Jath abruptly stopped short in mid-step, his arm freezing beneath Lhara's hand. Darenel Tremaris likewise stood like one struck dumb, eyes wide in his handsome face and mouth open.

Then, spinning on his heel, Jath turned and strode from the restaurant. He did not turn nor slow, not even when Lhara called out after him. Darenel also called out "Jatheryn!", but nothing would bring Jath back. 

OoOoO