Black Hart

Gradsul by Twilight

Chapter 3 - A Fated Reunion

Akhan spent the rest of his time deep in the trickeries which the Kansitt could teach him.  He did, however, find time to drop by the gatehouse at Seldar Palace with the hound, to quiz the soldiers on their knowledge of war dogs. Ash had helped him and his friends so many times now that he felt obliged to do a bit of digging on the subject.  He was sure he was underestimating his canine friend's capabilities.
The Regimental Sergeant Major at the gatehouse had been most helpful, and Akhan couldn't help but feel excited as he knocked on the barracks of the Count of Ulek's 1st Light Foot. One look at Ash's collar inscription and the man had been sure that this was where he would find his answers.
A puzzled private listened to his story through the Judas Gate of the barracks door, then disappeared for a good while. He was almost on the point of giving up when the door opened and an officer stepped out, offering his hand in greeting.
"Lieutenant Gessik at your service, sir," he said as he shook Akhan's hand firmly, leading him inside the building. "I gather you are seeking our help with a matter regarding this hound here?"
Akhan looked to Ash, who seemed excited, as though he recognised this place. He seemed to know where they were going.
"Our scouts use them for their missions," Gessik explained as they crossed the internal courtyard towards one of the many building that were within this small garrison. "I'd wager the dog here was one of ours lost in the war. Maybe got separated form his handler."
Suddenly the thought dawned on Akhan. What if they found Ash's master? He might want him back!
"The Master of the Hounds should know for sure," the lieutenant continued. "He knows his dogs like a good officer knows his men."
Ash was starting to wag his tail enthusiastically as they reached the door, and Gessik opened it, shouting inside.
"Master Veyne, Master Veyne - a moment please!"
A short man, what remained of his balding pate greying, waddled into the entrance hall of this building which quite simply smelled of dog. He wore a battered leather apron, and Akhan couldn't help but notice the ragged scars to the left side of his face, and his missing ear, which were almost certainly the result of a chewing by a many-fanged creature. Had there been a bookmaker handy, he would almost certainly have been willing to stake money on the fact that it had been a dog's work!
Seeing the Lieutenant, the Master snapped to attention and saluted crisply. Gessik beckoned him out into the morning sunlight.
Without a word, as Master Veyne saw Ash he smiled, and the dog was verging on the hysterical, spinning round and chasing its own tale.
"Fast, Ash!" the man barked in a sharp, crisp, bass tone that reminded Akhan of the crack of a whip. Immediately the dog stopped its antics and stood almost to attention.
"Well I never!" Master Veyne exclaimed. He looked up to Akhan. "Where did you find him boy, we were sure he'd died with his master in the Trail of Tears?"
Before he had a chance to answer, Veyne had whisked the trio into the Kennelhouse, to his office where he cracked open a bottle of cheap Dwer whisky. Only when they had all had their first sip, including Ash, did he allow Akhan to tell his story.
As he finished, Veyne seemed almost ecstatic.
"Still got it then, ol' boy!" he said, clapping the dog firmly. "No, Akhan, we thought Ash long dead. His handler, Sergeant Hans Predik, was a scout in our own regiment. Last he was seen was in the retreat from Veluna, through the Trail of tears. Never recovered him, he was a rearguard scout sent to check the enemy's advances in preparation for the ambush."
In a strange way, Akhan felt relieved, almost grateful, that this Hans Predik was dead.
"He'd have quite a tale to tell, our Ash, if he could speak. One of our best - decorated twice. He had the Legion of Valour three years ago when they were ambushed by a band of Jebli raiders in the Lortmils, saved Hans' life by fending them off while he regained consciousness, then led him through a forest to safety."
"Then there was the child he saved from a burning house in the south of our country - a Star of Ulek he got for that one. He's one of our best, and we were sad to lose him. Its good to have ye back, boy."
Akhan's heart dropped, and Veyne noticed this, adding, "Even if it is for a short visit!"
"No Master Akhan, he has chosen his new master, and unless I could interest ye in joining our regiment he'd be worse than useless to us without ye. Here, I have something for ye."
Veyne rummaged inside the drawers of his bureau until he found a long, flat, velvet-covered box which he promptly snapped open and shoved in front of Akhan's nose. Within it there were two medals, one a silver coin, the other a golden star, presumably belonging to Ash.
Akhan took them.
"Now he ain't no slacker," Veyne continued. "And I can tell ye've been feeding him well as he's a few pounds to lose. Bring him by each morning Akhan, just about ten bells, and I'll teach ye just what our Ash can do for ye."

"Damn this infernal rain!" Eloi thought as they passed through the city gates.
Since  the evening after the encounter with Aranon's woman it had rarely stopped. Not a torrent, but a fine-sprayed drizzle that seeped into every corner and crevice of his body. It was so pervasive, he imagined that there might even be parts of him that were clean by now.
They had been stopped at the gate by the Town Guard, but allowed to pass when Eloi introduced himself, after a brief reminder that this was a 'peaceable town' and their weapons 'might best stay within their sheaths'.
The streets here were wide, and the buildings lower than Niole Dra, mostly only one or two storeys. They were mostly wooden too, at least in this area which seemed to be some sort of merchant quarter, with all manners of shops and stalls. A central promenade, wider than most streets, led on towards what seemed to be a town square in the distance. The air here was crisp and clean, and made Eloi long for some smoke-filled den of iniquity.

Akhan slithered along the floor on his belly, sliding under the tripwire he had spotted in the faint light of this room.
His training done, he had accepted a turn from Torral which should now be within his grasp. If he completed this, he would be accepted within the upper echelons of the Kansitt guild without question. Failure, and he would most likely be dead anyway, but he had no intention of failing.
His target was an Insurance Guarantee on a merchant ship - the Valiant. The 'sponsors' had found out before the owner that it had sunk off the southern coast, and being that it cost less to hire Akhan to steal the letter than to replace a full merchant vessel with its costly cargo, they had done so.
He was in the bedroom of the ship's owner, and peered around the edge of the bed. There, before him at the end of the bed lay the object of his desire - a large chest, of sturdy oak and with shiny metal bindings that told Akhan he was in for a hard time. The lock seemed formidable, if he ever got past whatever traps there were!
But he needed this turn, for with the money for this, even after the Kansitt's healthy deduction, he would be able to pay for his training, a horse to take him on Eloi's journey, and leave sufficient to keep Hanali in good style for another six months.
Akhan stopped for a second and took a deep breath, clearing his mind. His head raced with thoughts of Hanali and their child, Eloi, and even the heroic Ash. He had to focus - it had been some time since he had done such a turn. Torral had warned him that this would be dangerous, and the hefty fee told him just how deadly this situation was.
Akhan's breathing became more regular and deep as he concentrated on his surroundings.  His fears hadn't disppeared but he'd reached that stage he knew well where they had been successfully shunted to one side.  Now he could work on the theft with the fear only serving to heighten his awareness.  The experience of the moment narrowed to an extraordinary degree; everything irrelevant discarded.
First he quietly wiped the magical Eye to make sure there was nothing obscuring its abilities and then carefully examined the floor, walls, roof and furniture of the room from where he still crouched.  He was looking for all the usual tricks designed to foil just one such as himself.  Were there any concealed or secret doors?  Who knew what lay behind such unknowns?  All his senses were absorbed in providing his thief's mind with the information he needed to detect any possible traps. Akhan had a brief look around at the walls, ceiling and floor. The room was roughly twenty feet by twenty feet, and richly, albeit sparsely, furnished. The ornate four-poster bed, on his right, was halfway between the door behind him and the far wall, where a painting of a stern looking old man hung.
To the left, a bay window, curtains opened, let the dull afternoon sunlight in, the rain of the past few days pattering against its panes. In the far left corner stood an oak wardrobe of sturdy construction.
The chest that was his target was pushed back against the bed, its lock facing towards the window. It was only when he looked towards the chest did he notice something odd - a faint crack in the floor in front of the chest. It was a rough square, about three feet' in length, running from the edge of the chest back towards the window.
He stretched out his arm and gave it a gentle push, then a heavier one, but not too heavy. It seemed firmly held and would likely support someone's weight easily - but that was not to say there was not a trigger somewhere, although he could not see one.
Moving as silently as possible, Akhan skirted the edge of the possible trapdoor and peered round the other side of the bed to check for further dangers.  While he was close to the picture he also took a quick look at the quality.  The idea of getting a portrait of Hanali appealed to him and it might be useful to find this artist if he was any good, but the painting was not exceptionally good, so he did not bother wasting time looking for the artist's signature.
He tip-toed around the 'trap door', but found nothing of note there, a small bedside cabinet in the far corner of the room. Sitting down to prevent an 'optical' catastrophe he set the Eye in motion, scanning the room in front of him.
"Come to Akhan little kitten..." 
He found magic there, sure enough - not around the chest, but inside it. It was quite a weak magic, but he could tell no more.
The trap door concerned him though - it showed that the mark used traps to protect his property, assuming it was a trap! Something looked odd about the chest though, but he just couldn't figure it out!

As he walked over the crest of the hill, past the mansion on the clifftops, Cinion's heart lifted at the sight of the fishing village below him. It was dusk in this warm spring evening, and he could see the candlelights of Saltmarsh being lit below, one by one, as the citizens prepared for nightfall.
He watched the last of the fishing boats enter the harbour safely, then walked down to the town gates, where he received a warm welcome and little challenge from the constable who guarded there. Cinion asked him for the Kingfisher Inn, and the young man gave him simple directions to his destination.
A few minutes later he arrived there, entering the wooden building, outside which hung, as might be expected, the freshly-painted sign of a Kingfisher, in bright colours on a dull weathered black background. Amongst all the buildings in Saltmarsh harbour it seems to be in a reasonable state of repair.
All around this place hung naval memorabilia - cutlasses, boarding hooks, paintings of Keoish ships, naval flags, sea charts, and a distinctive royalist feel too, with a painting of King Kimbertos above the bar itself.
It made Cinion feel somewhat uncomfortable - sure, he liked messing about on boats, but on the rivers, not like these crusty inhabitants, who would scorn anything that didn't sail in water with enough salt to kill the taste of the best trout.
As for the inhabitants, although they continued their shanty as he walked in, and he had been in many a tavern where an uncomfortable silence had followed his entrance. They were, however, watching him like a hawk.
He walked confidently up to the bar, and handed over the gold piece to a serving girl.
"A large mead when you're ready my friend," he demanded, watching her face closely.
As she turned the coin over in her hand, a look of shock came across her face, and she ran out of the bar, into what presumably was the kitchen area. Much as handing over a Sea Princes coin had seemed a good way to get attention at the time, a deadly silence now hung over the inn and the locals, mostly fishermen and sailors, were looking at him as though he had just toasted the Prince of Monmurg.
Suddenly the door swung open and a tall, muscular man wearing an apron covered in a variety of foodstuffs came into the bar, clutching his coin in one hand and a sharp-looking cleaver in the other.
"I heard the food stinks here," Cinion said. "Thought I might poison meself with some of your puke!"
The silence was intense now - a faint sweat formed on his brow as for a second he wondered - had he come to the wrong place?

Akhan chewed his lip. 
This was a puzzle; there was something out of place but what was it?  He gingerly examined the bed itself and wondered to himself about how the mark would open the chest.  Would he be able to simply lift the lid or would he be obliged to move the chest away from the bed?  Akhan was reluctant to start shifting the chest around what with some possibly concealed trapdoor in front of it. 
And then again, maybe there was a concealed strongroom underneath!  Who knew?  He tried to think back to Torral's exact words - had he specifically mentioned this chest against the bed or was he making assumptions based on its appearance?
As another bit of double-checking he also ldecided to look under the bed itself. Always a favourite place to have a rummage around.  This time he wasn't so sure what he'd find.  Maybe there`d even be some other fiendish trap engineered into the underside of the bed itself.
A light bead of sweat formed on Akhan's brow - what was wrong with him? This wasn't like him at all! Life was just getting too complicated of late to permit his usual carefree attitude. In days gone past he would have been halfways to the safehouse by now!
He peered in closer at the chest - Torral's information had just been 'its in a chest in the master bedroom', nothing more, and he saw nothing else that might pass for a chest. It was pushed flush against the wooden end of the bed. Very flush - too flush!
The chest was joined to the wooden bed-end! But why?
His thoughts about the underside of the bed came back to him, and he swiftly peered under the bed. It was dull under there, so much so that the Eye's ultravisual powers blended in, giving him a good view of the back of the bed end. And the usual Akhan grin of cheesiness started to spread across his face.
The front of the chest was a dud! It was accessed from the rear, from under the bed, and the front was probably trapped better than the Nyrondese Royal Mint! Well, perhaps not, but good enough to dispose of his mortal features. He checked it over thoroughly - now was not the time to get complacent!
There seemed to be nothing from this side, save the recessed and perfectly concealed keyhole. Reaching into his belt pouch he removed his lockpicks, selecting the most appropriate ones and kissing them before gently sliding them into the lock.
Five minutes later he was still lying there, now with three picks inside it, feeling through them for the tiny indentations that would spring the lock. He could not be sure, as the lock was hidden, but it was so complex it must be an Ironoak lock, forged by the Dwerfolk of Dumadan. This bandit took his security seriously.
The grin returned as he felt an inaudible click through the picks that told him it was sprung.
"By the Hairy Bollocks of Iggwilv," he thought. "I am good!"
Sliding back slightly he lowered the panel down gently and peered within. Dark enough to need his infravision, he saw several letters, a bag and three potion vials. He removed them carefully and slid the panel back into place.
An interesting bonus!
He had no time to be sure  that the document he wanted was there, but that was not his problem. He had completed the task as required and now he had to be fast, for he knew that the mark was returning home soon, and with him the chances of discovery would go through the roof.
He, on the other hand, would be going through the cellar, by a secret tunnel that led to the sewers...

Had he uttered wrongly the phrase that Koftus Grymsdale, his contact in Cryllor, had given him to make contact? Was he about to test his fighting skills, not for the first time?
A smile cracked across the man's face, and he roared with laughter, the tension in the room immediately breaking.
"Devion, you short-arsed fur-toed son of a field-mouse! Welcome old friend, come in, come in!" bellowed the man, whom he presumed was indeed Ol' Walt Kingfisher, the proprietor of this inn and his contact.
At least he had used the contact name of Devion which he had chosen.
The man lifted the bar and beckoned him through into the kitchen, grasping his shoulders tightly as would old friends as they passed out of sight. He released them as they entered the kitchen, and, without a word, walked down a set of stairs at the back of the room into what he presumed was the cellar.
Cinion followed him, to the back of the wine cellar where there was a small room full of naval charts on the walls. It smelled strongly of the sea, and somehow he felt that Walt wanted it that way. Walt pulled up a three-legged stool by an old chest, pointing to another for Cinion to be seated.
"There is little time, he has been and gone again," Walt said.
Cinion knew little of this mission, save that Walt would give him a mark to trail until Koftus could prepare a full team to assist him.
"His boat came in a week early and he left yesterday, bound for Gradsul if he is to be believed. It is where he has gone the last two times when we managed to follow him, but unfortunately he was lost in the docks then."
"He goes by the name of Vellip O'Shad, a southern Keoish name and he knows a lot about the area. And ships too, which is how he came to our notice - his knowledge is precise and heartless, as though read from a tome, not learned the way we sea-types do, the hard way. He is definitely up to something, and I fear it is something dire - I am quite convinced that he is a Scarlet Brotherhood agent."
Cinion was unmoved by this statement - he had known when Koftus recruited him after he was rescued on the Brotherhood ship that he faced the prospect of being entangled with them again. In fact he had been counting on it!
"About six feet tall, dark hair, moustache with a touch of grey. Taken to wearing what I believe is fashionable among the dashing young naval cadets these days, but I find his taste in clothes rather garish. There is only one thing I can tell you, apart from the fact that I am sure he is smuggling something into or out of Gradsul in his boat, the Shelliak."
"The last time we lost him he was followed for a few minutes, and entered the home of  a half-Olven harlot who goes by the name of 'Red' Hannay, near to the docks. It may just have been a 'social' call, but it is the only place we know he has been. He was never seen to leave, and that is how we lost him."
"If you take a fast horse, or pony perhaps, you will likely not lose too much time and may even reach Gradsul before him. Go to the Golden Anchor - another sailor's tavern I'm afraid! Give your coin to the barman for 'a single room for a week's stay'. Someone will contact you within the day."
"For the love of sun and stars.." Cinion muttered under his breath, while evidencing a look of unamusement. "This Koftus is quite a taskmaster - he's got you running around Keoland like a piss-boy at the court in Rauxes during a drunken debauch.
"Oh, well, that's what you get for being dragged into the affairs of humans!" he thought to himself.
Still facing Walt, he said, "I'd ask for something to eat, but I've lost my appetite...and I don't suppose there's time for that anyway," he finished with a cynical quip.
"Well, times a wasting", Cinion remarked, exhaling a slight sigh. With that, Walt arose and led the stout halfling back up the stairs and through the kitchen, and out into the barroom.
"It was good seeing you again, Devion, my friend. Until the starbreak.."
"Until the starbreak" replied Cinion, proceeding to the door. "Field mouse. I'll bite his big human ass with my steel teeth," he thought, grasping the hilt of Mandeg's Carver, his magical dagger, as he proceeded out the door to look for a more suitable hostelry - preferably one without any fellow spies.

The safe house was a pawnbrokers in the Kansitt area, and he waited in the cellar while Torral and his men reviewed the takings. He was glad he had pocketed the potions as his own when they insisted he hand over everything for examination, even the bag. He had a brief look at the bag's contents, and found a nice ring and several pieces of jewellery endowed with lovely sparkly gemstones, worth a fair bit in his estimation.
The door opened and Torral returned with a smile on his face, and the bag in his hand.
"Was it tough?" he asked.
Akhan rolled his eyes. "Lets just say the patron got his money's worth."
He peered into the bag as they talked, and noticed that only the ring and a pearl choker had been left. His expression quizzed Torral on this matter.
"Trust me, Akhan, you do not want those items!" he said. "They were taken in an unsanctioned burglary, that ended in the killing of the victim, two weeks ago. It seems you were not the only catspaw around here. Your own mark will be heading in for 'interrogation' right now, and I doubt he'll be around for much longer to terrorise anyone else with his security measures. The jewellery is being returned to the late Councillor Vandt's family, so I guess they owe you one."
It warmed the cockles of Akhan's heart to hear of someone in authority indebted to him.
"Forget your debts to us, including the training fee," Torral continued. "We'll start afresh when you return from your 'journey'. I've had the fee you are due, less your guild donation, delivered to your residence, inconspicuously of course."
Akhan felt immeasurably better than he had for hte last week - between the 2,000 Merkke fee and the value of these items, they had enough money to keep them in luxury for some time.
"No need to remain in the safehouse either - there should be no comeback from the mark at all. In fact, pretty soon there should be no mark at all!"
Torral guided Akhan thorugh the safehouse, past guards and secret doors, to the 'tradesmen's entrance' at the side.
"Oh, I nearly forgot," he added before opening the door. "The ring is magical, I'd get it checked out if I were you."
Akhan almost floated back to the Palace. It had been a very good day!

"Milady has been expecting you, Milord, but Master Akhan is not present as yet. She would see you now if you wish to await his return."
The gatehouse officer had been surprisingly helpful, never doubting that Eloi was who he said he was.
Eloi nodded, and asked, "Is there somewhere for my men to refresh and relax whilst I take care of my business?"
"But of course," the Lieutenant replied. "Boy, take these men to the guardhouse and fetch them some food and ale, and introduce them to the watch."
As the boy led his men back the way they had come, the Lieutenant strode off and Eloi followed him, through the narrow passageways and eventually to a room. He knocked on the door and waited for the reply before entering.
"Baron Eloi Brandt, Milady," he said, bowing and then leavng the room.
Hanali, seated in what was obviously a drawing room, was dressed in a flowing purple gown that only reminded Eloi how beautiful she was. She stood up and greeted him, bidding him to be seated before calling to a maid to bring him some wine.
"You must be exhausted after your journey, milord. Akhan has been expecting you, but did not know when you would arrive - he has gone out on some errand, only the Gods know where. I know not when he returns, but would hope it would be sooner rather than later. You will stay with us of course, and perhaps would wish to refresh whilst we await Akhan's return?"
The maid brought Eloi over a fine crystal glass, a large one at that, full to the brim with red wine. His mouth watered holding it there in front of him, but even he realised it would be impolite, to say the least, to quaff this nectar without answering Hanali.
Before Eloi could contemplate his dilemma, the door opened behind him, and in waltzed one of the gayest, dandy, mummy's-boy-looking pansies he had ever seen.
Akhan!
"Eloi!" he said in a friendly manner. "I've been expecting you."
Akhan was 'dressed for business', and held a bag in his right hand, which, by the way he clutched it and the speciality cheesey grin he was wearing, told Eloi that he had some ill-gotten gains of value therein.
Eloi jumped up from his chair and gave Akhan a hearty slap on the back
"Akhan, I'd say it was good to see you, if it wasn't for the fact that it was Thoggin who has brought us both together again. I see that your taste in clothing has not improved!"
Eloi pointed towards the bag.
"Been out doing a little shopping have we?"
He took Akhan to one side and whispered out of Hanali's hearing.
"The good lady has been a gracious hostess, but I feel in need of some strong drink and some bawdy entertainment. I am sure that you know of some fine drinking establishments, perhaps we could adjourn there and talk about what brings me here?"
Akhan stood facing Eloi as he explained his need for some livelier surroundings.  He could see Hanali over the Baron's shoulder and, as ever, she seemed to have that look on her face which indicated she knew exactly what was going on. 
"Just a moment Eloi," he said and left him to join Hanali. 
Akhan smiled apologetically.  "It seems Eloi is a little uncomfortable.  And I'm afraid it'll be rather late before I'm through getting comfortable with him.  However, I had a very interesting day today."  Palming the ring, he handed her the bag. 
"Perhaps you could find somewhere safe to put this.  Hopefully you'll have ooccasion to wear it before I leave." 
That done, he kissed Hanali's hand mischievously. Eloi was halfways to the door and Akhan sensed that she had something to tell him in private. He paused a second, still holding onto her hand.
"There was a delivery for you while you were out - I take it from the same source as this."
She held up the bag containing the necklace.
"It is in our bedroom, unopened - but it is either a dead body or a load of coins, and I fancy which I would prefer."
She smiled, leaning over and kissing his cheek.
"Take care and enjoy yourself."

"Come on Baron.  You have to tell me all about your new home.  Don't spare me any details." 
Akhan guided Eloi out into the town.  As they began their walk through the streets he breathed deeply. 
"Smell that Eloi.  Puts a spring in your step doesn't it - all this mountain air. But you can get too much of a good thing," he smirked.  "You wouldn't want to overdo it.  Let's find some more unhealthy air to breathe."
And with that he steered Eloi into the first of the evening's watering holes. 
When they were seated with their drinks, Akhan leaned his elbows on the table and put his chin in his hands.  "So what's all thisI hear about you being off on an errand then?"
Eloi took his tankard of ale and drained it, thumping the glass down on the table.
"Ahhh! I needed that, Barkeep more ale for me and my friend here." As Eloi waited for the bartender to bring another round he looked at Akhan. "My new home takes up little of my time. I have little skill in management of my barony and leave much of the work to those capable people under me. The barony is a wretched place. In the middle of nowhere and with little resources to bring in a decent income. Still, it is a pleasant enough life and much to my liking. There is plenty of time for the occasional foray into the night to keep the skills of my previous employ in good order. Much the same as you it would seem!"
Akhan listened intently to Eloi's news - it was good to catch up on what had been going on.  He almost wished he could have been at Amarr for some of those drinking sessions with Bermen.  After all, it's not too often you get the opportunity to drink a Barony dry.
Eloi took his glass and raised it in a toast to their art.
"Bermen stayed with me over the winter and we nearly drank the cellar of Ammar Keep dry. As you know Bermen is a mysterious bugger. I know little of his past and my only opinion of the man was as a fine drinking companion. Something weighed heavily upon him and one day I awoke with one hell of a fecking hangover only to find Bermen gone"
Eloi dropped his head in his hands.
"A couple of months later. Thoggin comes to the Keep with some disturbing news and a request that I am not in the position to refuse. Thoggin came with news of the war in the south. What do you know of the city of Gradsul? Apparently, Thoggin's sources believe they have found a Scarlet Brotherhood spy in the city and they want me to go there and flush him out. Thoggin advised me to come and find you here as you would assist me in my task. He also said that he would send others to Gradsul. When he said this I assumed that it would be the others who helped us hunt down Lominstrall and Shabass T'Lan, but my own sources tell me that the others are unavailable. Whoever these strangers are, I hope that they are up to the task."
Eloi smiled at Akhan.
"I am afraid that we are off on the road again my friend. I fear that I am going to be at Thoggin's beck and call for the rest of my miserable life."
"Several other things have come to my attention on my travels here. When I visited Niole Dra I called upon my old friend Kro Arribal. He revealed that Shabass T'Lan's body had been stolen from Sheldomar Palace. I fear that there is something clearly amiss here and that this worrying news will have repercussions on our forthcoming mission."
Akhan found news of T'Lan's body's disappearance was strangely disturbing.  As if there hadn't been enough bits of dead bodies flying around what with those mummified hands they had come across in their hunt for the King's enemies. 
"Why didn't Thoggin get rid of it when he had the chance?" he muttered angrily.
Eloi took another sup of ale.
"Also, remember the woman that Aranon had in his company after the Battle of Galden Field. Well, I think I bumped into her on the way here. If you remember she stole Hamman's horse when she ran off. Whilst stopped for a welcome drink I came across Hamman's horse being shod at a blacksmith's. As I questioned the smith, the woman appeared. She spoke with a lilt of Iuz in her tongue and was clearly suspicious of my curiousity. I cleverly dropped Aranon's name into our conversation and she jumped on the horse and was off before I could even scratch me arse."
He shook his head.
"Why didn't you just arrest her straight away?"  Akhan grinned.  "Come on.  You're a Baron now.  You've saved the King's life and there's not a Mareschal in all Keoland who'd gainsay you.  I know Aranon's being particularly secretive about his personal affairs these days, but you could probably have screwed some sort of decent reward out of him.  Especially if she'd got anything to do with Iuz." 
As Eloi indulged himself in the ale without flinching, Akhan shrugged, feeling it better to let it pass.
"So, my friend that is my news to date. We should proceed to make plans for our trip to Gradsul. But first, tell me what you have been up to in the time since our last meeting? Still shafting Fimuth's good lady then?"
Eloi mischieviously winked, letting out a sly grin.
The dig about Hanali would have earned Eloi a fairly vigorous attempt at a cut throat only a few weeks ago.  But Akhan had concluded ruefully that he might as well face facts. He would never, ever persuade Eloi to be respectful about Hanali.  The only way he'd ever get the Baron to give it up would be to arrange for his demise.  And despite a strong desire at the moment to strangle him, life was probably more interesting on balance with him around.  Still, didn't need to let him know that! 
Akhan sat back and smiled sweetly, saying, "Eloi, just for tonight, why don't you oblige me and not say anything at all about Hanali?  I realise the King might be upset, but if you do say anything else tonight you'll find yourself dead.  You've already guessed I've been busy here.  And there are some business acquaintances in Tringlee who'd be only too happy to arrange for your disappearance.  It'd probably cost me a great deal, so why don't you take that as some indication of how happy I'd be if you didn't say anything else about her."
He stood up to roar over to the barman, "Pelsi!  Two more!"  Sitting back down he, continued. "But let's not spoil the atmosphere, eh?  I'm just a little touchy about Hanali you know?  So let's say no more.  I'll tell you what.  We'll finish these and then I'll take you on to the Guardsman's Box - there might be a fight on in the backroom this evening.  They've usually got some real gamblers down there." 
After Akhan's none to blunt warning about further conversation about Hanali, Eloi muttered under his breath "Touchy! Yeah, I'll bet and probably a bit feely too!"
Eloi looked happy at the thought of going to the Guardsman's Box - this sounded more like his sort of place.
"I would welcome the change in scenery. There should no doubt be a card game in progress too. I hope the cards are stacked and the women hot, or even vice versa."
Eloi laughed heartily.
While they got stuck into the next round, Akhan filled Eloi in on his activities since they last met.  "So, just between us two now. I found myself in a bit of a professional fix.  I'd been keeping my hand in, you know, earning a crust."  He laughed.  "And then, there I was bang to rights with the local Guild ready to arrange my inaugural voyage down the nearest sewer.  So I decided to take a change in career path.  Being a catspaw is all very well, but Tringlee's home now so it only makes sense to put down roots with the local community.  The criminal community of course.  Don't you agree?"
Eloi shook his head at Akhan's tale.
"It always seems better not to step on anyones toes when your in new territory, or at least not get caught anyways. Did you not consider offering them a cut from your ill gotten gains, or is that how you avoided your voyage down the cellars?"
On the way to the bareknuckle fight, Akhan also explained about Ash.
"Bloody hound's braver than I am!  Been decorated twice - I'll show you the medals.  Turns out his previous scout partner has copped it.  The Master of the Hounds here is showing me what he can do now. 
"Here we are!"  Akhan grabbed hold of Eloi's arm and made to pull him in to the noisy doorway.  But he soon let go and started searching for a rag in his pocket while he hammered on the door with his other hand. 
"When were you thinking of setting off?  I'd prefer to have a day or so to sort things out."
Eloi turned serious for a second, putting on his best sombre voice. "I would wish to leave as soon as possible. We will return to Niole Dra where Kro can get us passage on the first decent ship to Gradsul. If you have business to tie up then do it quickly. I am sure Hanali will understand your desire to serve king and country. Too bad her hubby didn't!"
Eloi ducked, anticipating a lunge, or punch, or stabbing even.
"Steady on Akhan, you know my wicked sense of humour. There is no harm or malice meant."
His friend had certainly lost his sense of humour in the past months!
"Ahhh, Master Akhan," said the eyes and nose now peering from behind the judas gate on the door. It creaked open and the heat and smell of rancid bodies mixed with ale, blood and a few other nasties, in conjunction with the almost unbearable clamour, almost overcame them.
"Just my sort of place!" thought Eloi as the door closed and was locked behind them.

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