From: "Avid Reader - Fledgling Writer" <[email-masked]>
Date: Tue, 12 May 92 10:31:39 EDT

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 --   DargonZine Volume 3, Issue 9        07/27/90          Cir 963    --
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 --                            Contents                                --
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  Reluctant Revelation         Carlo Samson           Mel 5-Ye 2, 1013
  The Bronze Horseman II       Max Khaytsus           Se 25-Ob 5, 1013
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1                           Reluctant Revelation
                             by Carlo N. Samson

      The trading  ship _Vanguard Voyager_ sailed  smoothly through the
 calm  green waters  of  the  Laraka River.  Cydric  Araesto and  Mandi
 Mercallion stood at the rail, watching  the town of Port Sevlyn slowly
 come into view along the left bank.
      "At long last,"  Cydric remarked. "It'll be great to  get back on
 solid ground again."
      Mandi clapped her hands excitedly. "Party!" she exclaimed.
      "Where?" Cydric  looked at her  quizzically. "What party  are you
 talking about?"
      "The  one that  Uncle Quill  and the  Lord Mayor  of Port  Sevlyn
 always throw for  Brynna whenever she gets back from  a voyage," Mandi
 replied. "Long voyages I mean, like  when she got back from Bichu, but
 after they  hear about  how we  gave Challion and  his pirates  a good
 thumping I'm sure  they'll have one for her--probably  not tonight but
 for sure  tomorrow night, or  the next night  at the very  least. I've
 just got to get a new dress!"
      Cydric stretched  and leaned against  the rail. "I'm  sure you'll
 have a  nice time. Myself, I  just want to  get to a decent  tavern. I
 haven't had a good Lederian since we left Shark's Cove."
      "You'll have a nice time too," Mandi said. "The Lord Mayor stocks
 plenty of Lederian."
      "Is the whole crew invited to this party?" Cydric inquired.
      "Truthfully,  no." Mandi  twisted  a strand  of her  tawny-auburn
 hair. "Well,  except for Kayne  and Scarabin, they're  always invited.
 But since you  did help save the ship I'm  absolutely sure Brynna will
 invite you as well. She owes you that much."
      "It's not necessary. I'm not all that fond of parties anyway."
      Mandi's  jaw popped  open in  surprise  at his  comment. "Why  on
 Makdiar not? There's food, music, dancing--it'll be fun! Don't tell me
 you wouldn't want to go."
      "I've been  to enough of  them to know  what goes on.  I'd rather
 spend my evenings engaged in more meaningful activity."
      "Really? I didn't  know scribe's sons got invited  to the Mayor's
 mansion very often."
      Cydric started to  reply, but decided to let the  remark pass. He
 didn't want  to start any conversation  that would lead him  to reveal
 his  true past.  To change  the subject,  he pointed  out towards  the
 docks. "Say, isn't that a Navy ship over there?"
      Mandi snapped  her fingers.  "I know what  it is.  You're worried
 about showing up  without a date! I  can take care of that  for you. I
 know lots of girls who'd--"
      Cydric put  his hand  over her  mouth. "Mandi,  even on  the wild
 chance that  I did get  invited, there's nothing  you could say  or do
 that would make me go."

      Light chamber  music mixed  with the  sound of  many simultaneous
 conversations  filled the  spacious  feast hall  of  the Lord  Mayor's
 mansion.
      "It  was very  kind of  you to  invite me  to this  celebration,"
 Cydric said to Brynna Thorne. The twenty-seven-year-old captain of the
 _Vanguard Voyager_ nodded  and tipped her wine  glass. "Quite welcome,
 Cydric," she replied. "Mandi convinced me that double the usual voyage
 pay wasn't enough of a reward."
      Cydric made  to protest  that it  was more  that enough,  but the
 silver-haired gentleman  standing next  to Brynna  clapped him  on the
 shoulder and said, "Now, now, Brynn.  You can't put a price on bravery
 such as his."
1     "Thank you,  Lord Thorne," Cydric  replied, "but I didn't  do all
 that much. The bow was enchanted; anyone could have made the shot."
      Lord Quillien Thorne shook his head. "The dweomer is such that it
 makes good archers even better.  You underrate your own skill. Myself,
 I think you're a fine addition to my daughter's crew."
      A large brown-bearded  man in rich maroon  robes approached them,
 accompanied by  a tall  woman in  similarly elegant  dress. "Quillien!
 Brynna!"  the man  called. "You'll  be  pleased to  know that  Captain
 Hellriegel has just captured the last of the _Black Swan's_ crew--even
 that Danner fellow. The messenger was just here."
      "Excellent news,"  said Lord  Thorne, looking  to Brynna  for her
 reaction.
      "That's  wonderful! Thank  you,  Lord Mayor,"  Brynna said.  "The
 Navy's  certainly done  their job.  I'll have  to send  him a  note of
 thanks before he leaves."
      "They ought to be the ones thanking you," said the woman, who was
 the Lord Mayor's  wife. "All those months spent  chasing down Challion
 and Skoranji and their mangy lot--then look who brings them in!"
      Brynna  smiled. "You're  too kind,  milady. Some  of the  credit,
 though, belongs to Cydric here."
      Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Cydric said, "I think I'll go and
 tell  Mandi that  Danner's been  captured. She  was concerned  that he
 might come back for her. If you'll excuse me?"
      "Enjoy yourself," said the Lord Mayor. Cydric nodded to everyone,
 then took  his leave. He spotted  Mandi by the musicians  and made his
 way over.
      "Did you  have a nice  chat with  Brynna and Uncle  Quill?" Mandi
 asked.  Cydric answered  affirmatively, then  told her  about Danner's
 capture.  "That's such  a relief!"  Mandi exclaimed.  "Not that  I was
 really worried, though."  She tugged at the side of  her black evening
 dress. "Oh, while  you were talking some of my  friends arrived. Let's
 go, I'll introduce you."
      Moments later,  Cydric and  Mandi arrived at  a table  where four
 young people were seated. "Everyone," Mandi said, "This is Cydric, the
 one I was telling you about. Say hi!"
      A  well-dressed young  man with  almond-brown hair  stood up  and
 gripped forearms with Cydric. "The name's Kifton, I'm the Lord Mayor's
 son. Sorry  I wasn't here  to meet you  at first--the meeting  with my
 personal treasurer ran a little long."
      The next to  greet Cydric was a meek-looking youth  and an ample-
 bosomed flaxen-haired  young woman.  Mandi introduced them  as Garrett
 and Tassy Covington. She mentioned that Garrett was studying to become
 a healer, and that Tassy was one of her best friends.
      "I sure hope  you're planning to tell us about  your adventure on
 board  the  ship,"  Garrett  said.   "It  must  have  been  enormously
 exciting."
      The  last person  at the  table  was a  slender young  lady in  a
 midnight-blue satin ball dress. Her cinnamon-brown hair was twisted in
 a long loose braid that lay across  her shoulder; in her left hand she
 held a small white lace fan.
      "Cydric," Mandi said,  "this is Rayna Silverwood.  She'll be your
 date for tonight."
      Cydric looked at the girl and  immediately felt his blood turn to
 ice. No,  it's not  possible, he  thought. Damn! Of  all the  girls in
 Baranur....He felt Mandi nudge him slightly. "Ah, I am very pleased to
 meet  you," he  said woodenly,  taking Rayna's  outstretched hand  and
 quickly pressing it to his cheek.
      Rayna flashed  the barest  hint of  a smile.  Her pale  blue eyes
 locked  with Cydric's  for  a moment,  then her  gaze  flitted to  the
 tabletop. "I-I'm pleased as well," she replied, a hint of confusion in
1her voice.  She stole another  glance at  Cydric as she  began fanning
 herself.
      Mandi stared  at the two  of them, puzzled by  Cydric's reaction.
 She knew that Rayna was somewhat of  a shy girl, but she expected more
 enthusiasm   from   Cydric.   It    couldn't   be   that   Rayna   was
 unattractive--she and Jannis had spent hours getting her ready for the
 party.  The look  on Cydric's  face was  one of  shock, surprise,  and
 dismay--like he'd seen someone he never hoped to see again.
      "Mandi!  Have you  seen Jannis?"  Tassy asked.  Mandi turned  and
 motioned to  the arched  entrance to  the gardens at  the back  of the
 feast hall. "Last I saw, she was with the Baron Fianchetti's son."
      "Brynna's little  sister certainly  is popular, isn't  she?" Kiff
 said, grinning. Mandi  shot him a disapproving look. "You  know what I
 mean," he hastily amended.
      From the  front of  the room  came the  Lord Mayor's  voice. "The
 feast will  begin shortly," he  announced. "I would ask  that everyone
 please be seated now."
      The guests gradually  left the dance floor and made  their way to
 the banquet tables that were set up around the hall. Cydric hesitantly
 sat down  next to  Rayna, while  Mandi took  a seat  next to  Kiff. "I
 thought Kayne and  Scarabin were supposed to be here,"  Cydric said to
 Mandi. "I haven't seen them since we left the ship yesterday."
      Mandi started  to make a cutting  reply, but decided to  speak to
 him  later on  in private.  For the  mean time,  she would  act as  if
 everything was fine. "Don't you remember?" she replied. "Scarabin's at
 the healer's  getting cured of his  razorworms, and Kayne went  off to
 see  some woman.  This is  the first  time they've  missed one  of our
 parties."
      "What about Brynna's mother--your Aunt Rolanda?"
      "Someone challenged her  to a game of King's  Key. She's probably
 out on the terrace beating the pox out of him."
      A serving girl came by and  filled their goblets with wine. After
 taking a sip Kiff said, "So Cydric, you seem to be the hero of the day
 around here. Why don't you tell  us all about the pirating incident of
 a couple days ago?"
      "Yes, please do," Rayna said.
      Cydric  drank a  bit of  wine, not  acknowledging Rayna's  words.
 After the  liquid had cleared  his throat  he proceeded to  relate the
 events of the  day before last. The group let  him talk uninterrupted;
 when  he was  finished,  Tassy  asked, "So  who  exactly is  Commander
 Challion? I think I heard the name somewhere before."
      Kifton, in  the process of drinking,  looked over the rim  of his
 goblet and set it down. "Hah! Now  there's a good story." He wiped his
 lips, then spoke. "Challion used to  be Knight Captain of the Southern
 Marches about five years  ago. My cousin was in the  Army at the time;
 he told me that one night old Captain Challion had a bit too much fine
 wine,  then went  out  and tried  to  have his  way  with a  peasant's
 daughter.  Hah! Obviously,  the Army  kicked  him out.  They say  that
 Challion used to brag about how  one day he'd become Knight Commander,
 so after his discharge the troops gave him that title to mock him."
      "Serves him right, I think," Garrett  said. "But then, how did he
 become a  pirate?" Kifton  shrugged, then looked  at Mandi.  "You ever
 hear anything about that?"
      Mandi  cocked her  head in  thought. "Yes,  but bits  and pieces,
 mostly. They  say that he was  at the Abyssment in  Shark's Cove once,
 and met  up with Captain Skoranji--who  owns the _Black Swan_,  by the
 way.  Well, Challion  supposedly  played  high-stakes paquaratti  with
 Skoranji and  it ended  up that  Challion won the  ship, but  since he
 didn't know spit about sailing he  made a deal with Skoranji that they
 go into scavenging treasure from wrecked ships and split whatever they
1found evenly, but  Brynna said that she once ran  across them off Cape
 Perpetual  where  they were  searching  for  a  sunken ship  that  was
 carrying gold  that the pirate  Soloman Banshee supposedly  stole from
 the vaults of the Beinison Emperor and--"
      Kifton reached over and put his hand over Mandi's mouth. "I think
 he understands now."
      Mandi sputtered  and pushed his  hand away. "Pox! Why  are people
 always doing that to me?" She glared briefly at Kifton, then delivered
 the same look to Cydric.
      A  middle-aged woman  in elegant  dress swept  past their  table.
 Suddenly  stopping in  mid-stride, she  backtracked and  spoke to  the
 group. "Greetings  everyone, having a  good time? Hello  there Cydric,
 nice to see  you again. You've met Lord Silverwood's  daughter, I see.
 Getting along, are you?"
      "Ah--glad to see  you too, Lady Thorne,"  Cydric replied. Mandi's
 temper sparked  as she saw the  hurt look in Rayna's  eyes when Cydric
 didn't answer  the question. Not now,  she told herself. I'll  get him
 later.
      "Where's Jannis?" asked Tassy. "Seems  like she vanished all of a
 sudden."
      "Oh,  she's out  by the  stables--showing  off her  horse to  the
 Fianchetti boy," Rolanda Thorne replied. "He's rather a geeby type, if
 you ask  me, but  don't tell  the Baroness I  said that!"  She grinned
 widely. "But he's harmless, and at least Jannis likes him. I told them
 to come  in, so  they'll be  here soon.  Well, enjoy  yourselves, all.
 Dakka-zee,  as  the  Bandalusians  say!"  She  tousled  Mandi's  hair,
 gathered up her voluminous dress and hurried off.
      A bell sounded, followed by  Lord Thorne's voice. He stood behind
 the table at the  front of the feast hall; Lady  Thorne took the chair
 to his left, and to her left Brynna was already seated. The Lord Mayor
 sat to Thorne's right, and next to him sat his wife Miriyan.
      "Thank you all for being here,"  Lord Thorne said. "Once again my
 daughter Brynna has proved herself a  worthy sea captain, and made her
 family and friends  all very proud of her. Before  we begin the feast,
 there is something we would like to do for her. Corbin?"
      The Lord  Mayor stood. "I've  known Brynna  ever since she  was a
 child, and  she was never one  to believe the limits  other people set
 upon her. Three years  ago she set sail on her  maiden voyage in spite
 of  all those  who  said a  woman  couldn't command  a  ship, and  her
 reputation has grown with each succeeding journey."
      He went on to describe her past voyages and accomplishments, then
 signalled to  a servant who  handed him a  carved wooden box.  He went
 over to Brynna  and motioned for her to stand.  Brynna looked confused
 for a moment, then  got up at the urging of her  mother, who also rose
 from her seat.
      The  Lord Mayor  continued, "It  is  with great  pleasure that  I
 present to  you, Captain Brynna  Thorne, this symbol of  Port Sevlyn's
 highest honor."  He opened the  box to reveal an  eight-pointed silver
 medallion inlaid  with the  likeness of Cirrangill,  God of  the Seas.
 Brynna smiled  broadly and thanked  the Lord Mayor amid  loud applause
 from the guests. Lady Thorne lifted  the medallion out of the case and
 looped the  attached ribbon around  Brynna's neck. Lady  Thorne hugged
 her, as  did her father.  The Lord Mayor  and his wife  extended their
 congratulations as well.
      "Got her totally by surprise!" Mandi exclaimed.
      Brynna looked down at the  medallion that hung against her chest,
 then up  at the still-applauding  crowd. She waited until  the ovation
 had  died  down  before  speaking.  "This is,  this  is  certainly  an
 unexpected honor," she said, her hand  going to the blue streak in her
 long dark hair. "I'm  not usually at a loss for  words...." She made a
1brief  speech in  which she  expressed  her appreciation  for all  the
 support  her friends  and family  had given  her over  the years,  and
 mentioned that her crew also  deserved recognition for their loyal and
 faithful service. She was making  her closing remarks when Lady Thorne
 broke in.
      "Wait a  moment! That's not the  only surprise we have  for you,"
 she said. "Okay, Jannis, bring him in!"
      Through the  back entrance to  the feast  hall came a  tall well-
 muscled man in  a gray uniform, accompanied by a  slim young girl. The
 man strode up to the Lord Mayor's  table and bowed, while the girl sat
 down with Cydric and the others.
      Lady Thorne smiled widely. "Everyone,  may I present Captain Xane
 Hellriegel,  of the  Royal  Navy ship  _Storm Challenger_.  Dakka-zee,
 Captain, so  nice that you  could attend!" Captain  Hellriegel thanked
 his hosts  and smiled at  Brynna, who stood open-mouthed  in surprise.
 "Greetings, Captain Thorne," he said. "Very glad to see you again."
      "Now now now, none of this 'captain' business, please," said Lady
 Thorne. "This is a celebration--first names only!" She leaned close to
 Brynna and whispered, "Don't just stand  there gaping like a fish! Say
 something to the man, lest he think you're a statue."
      Brynna  cast her  mother  a  dark look,  then  turned to  Captain
 Hellriegel. "So nice that you could attend," she said.
      "Please do have a seat, Xane," said Lady Thorne. "Next to Brynna,
 if you would."

      Mandi shook  her head.  "Pox, Jannis, I  thought you  were giving
 Fianchetti  Junior a  tour  of the  stables. Don't  tell  me you  were
 outside with _him_ all this time!"
      Jannis  Thorne grinned  at Mandi  from  the opposite  end of  the
 table. "I certainly was, sure as snow! Are you jealous?"
      "Oooh, I could poke your eyes out!"
      "Thank you,"  Jannis said with  a laugh, tossing back  her golden
 hair.
      "Hah!  What's to  be jealous  of?" said  Kifton, putting  his arm
 around Mandi.  "Those Navy fish-kissers don't  make a tenth of  what I
 could get  from a  caravan contract. I  could spend in  a day  what he
 makes in six months!"
      "Oooh, I'm  not the  only one jealous  around here!"  said Mandi,
 elbowing Kifton in the ribs. "You  always bring up your money whenever
 you feel threatened, don't you?"
      "I do not," said Kifton.
      "Do so!"
      "You want to bet on that?"
      "Just as I thought."
      "He's just a  fish-kisser! There's nothing special  about what he
 does."
      Mandi thrust  his arm away  from her. "What  he does is  the same
 thing that  Brynna does! Are you  saying that being a  ship captain is
 nothing special?"
      "That's not what I meant," Kifton said defensively. "What I meant
 was...simply that...uh...."
      "Forget it, Kiff," said Jannis. "You're in deep enough as it is."
      "So Jan," Tassy said, "Whatever happened to young Fianchetti? Was
 he impressed by El-Johan?"
      Jannis giggled. "About that! Soon as we stepped into the stables,
 he started  sneezing like a  thunderstorm. He  never said that  he was
 allergic to horses.  It got so bad  he decided to go home.  And a good
 thing too, for just then Mother  came over with Captain Hellriegel and
 asked me to keep him company until she called. He told me all kinds of
 fascinating stories--he's a very interesting  man, a perfect match for
1Brynna."
      "You mean Captain Thorne isn't married?" asked Cydric.
      "Not yet,"  replied Jannis, "but not  for long, if my  mother has
 her way."

      "I was about to send a messenger to inform you that we'd captured
 all of the _Black Swan's_ crew,"  said Captain Hellriegel, "but it was
 such a fine day I decided to deliver the message myself. I was halfway
 to the  doors when Lady  Thorne intercepted me  and invited me  to the
 celebration.  What I  didn't expect  was that  I'd have  to make  that
 surprise entrance."
      "Yes," said Brynna, "Mother always manages to surprise everyone."
      "I'm afraid Corbin  and I are also partly  responsible," said the
 Lord Mayor's wife. "Rolanda coaxed us into going along with it."
      "So tell  us, Captain,  what's the word  from Magnus?"  asked the
 Lord Mayor.  "Is there  any truth  to the rumors  of an  invasion from
 Bichu?"
      "There's  plenty  of speculation,  yes,  but  I personally  don't
 believe it," Hellriegel replied. "For  one thing, it's highly doubtful
 that the Bichanese--"
      Lady Thorne clapped  her hands. "Please please! You  men, all you
 talk about these days is war. Let's discuss more pleasant things. This
 is a celebration, after all."
      "How  right you  are,  Rolanda," said  Miriyan.  "The subject  is
 growing  rather tiresome.  I  doubt we'll  see any  major  war in  our
 lifetimes."
      Lord Thorne  drained the  last of  his wine  and signalled  for a
 refill. To Captain Hellriegel he  said, "It's extremely fortunate that
 you  decided  to  replenish  your   water  supplies  at  Port  Sevlyn.
 Otherwise, those pirates might be causing trouble in town right now."
      "They  won't  be troubling  anyone  for  a  long time  to  come,"
 Hellriegel replied. "We're taking the ship  in tow, and the whole crew
 is safely in the  brig--except for the oarsmen. We had  to find a mage
 to disperse them."
      "So it is true," said the Lord Mayor. "Skoranji _did_ have undead
 among his crew. I didn't think it possible."
      "How gruesome," said Miriyan, shuddering.
      Lady Thorne started to speak, but her husband cut her off. "We're
 not discussing war, Rolanda," he said.
      "I meant  anything that dealt with  death on a mass  scale," Lady
 Thorne snapped.
      "That reminds me," said the  Lord Mayor's wife, "the first course
 should have been served by now. I'll have to see what the problem is."
 She excused herself and left the table.
      In keeping  with Lady Thorne's  topic limitations, the  men began
 talking of  less gruesome things  such as  the state of  Lord Thorne's
 trading business. "The Land's Rim is doing quite well," Quillien said.
 "I've added  spell-protection to the  vaults, plus installed  a secret
 exit--might  come  in  useful  if the  Bichanese  invade."  The  group
 laughed. "In addition," continued Lord  Thorne, "the items that Brynna
 brought back from her last expedition  have sold extremely well; I can
 now afford  to either  add a  new room  to the  house, or  buy another
 ship."
      The   Lord  Mayor   shook  his   head.  "I've   a  better   idea,
 Quillien--build a  summer home  in the Catswoods.  Duke Quinnat  and I
 were thinking of some kind of joint project...."
      Lady Thorne suddenly looked at her daughter. "Brynna dear, you've
 been unusually quiet. Feel free to join in at any time."
      "I need to get a breath of air," Brynna said. "Please excuse me."
 She stood  up abruptly and hurried  out through the back  of the feast
1hall.

      "...so as  soon as we'd docked,  Captain Thorne went over  to the
 _Storm Challenger_ to tell them about the battle and have them pick up
 the survivors," Cydric  was saying. "I did see her  talking briefly to
 Captain Hellriegel--something he said seemed  to irritate her, and she
 left the ship in a hurry."
      "She didn't mention anything about that to me," Jannis said. Just
 then, Brynna  rushed past them out  of the room. Lady  Thorne followed
 not a moment behind.
      "Not again," sighed Jannis.
      "Cydric," Mandi said, "did you  know that Rayna's father supplies
 almost all of the pottery that's used in the towns along the Laraka?"
      "Really," Cydric said. "I didn't know that."
      "It's true," Rayna said. "He owns three shops here in Port Sevlyn
 and two in Magnus. Have you ever seen how pottery is made?"
      "Ah, no,  but I'm sure  it's fascinating." Cydric turned  back to
 Jannis. "What do you mean 'not again'?"
      Mandi made a tiny sound of frustration.
      "Mother  and Brynna--they  always seem  to get  into an  argument
 whenever Brynna gets back from  a voyage," Jannis explained. "And it's
 usually about the same thing."
      Mandi said, "Cydric, could I see you for a moment--in private?"
      "Hold it,  what do you  want to see  him alone for?"  Kifton said
 suspiciously.
      "It's about--his horse," Mandi said  quickly. "He had to leave it
 behind in Shark's Cove when he joined the ship. I promised him I'd let
 him ride mine when we got home."
      "But now? They're about to serve the food!"
      "Well, it'll  be dark  soon. He  can't very  well ride  around at
 night--it's so  hard to see  things! Honestly, Kiff, think  before you
 speak." Mandi got up and indicated for Cydric to do the same.
      Cydric looked confused. "Ah, Mandi--"
      "Once around  the pond, isn't that  what you said? Well  let's go
 then, come on!" She went  around to Cydric and surreptitiously pinched
 him.
      "Ow! Owv course.  Pardon us." Cydric followed Mandi  out into the
 garden. Brynna  and Lady Thorne  were there, having a  discussion near
 the rose bushes. Mandi led Cydric away  from the house and over to the
 stables.
      "What is this about, Mandi?" Cydric demanded.
      "I ought  to--I ought  to poke _your_  eyes out!"  seethed Mandi.
 "I'm not going take it anymore!"
      "Calm down and tell me what you mean."
      "Oh, you don't  know what I mean--I'll tell you  what I mean! You
 have been utterly,  totally, and completely rude to  Rayna! You hardly
 spoke to her--you barely  even looked at her! I'm not  going to sit by
 and let you treat one of my dearest friends this way! Oh, I could just
 scream! Rayna's  a bit shy,  and I thought you'd  be at least  nice to
 her. Her mother died recently, and  she needs someone she can talk to.
 I just  can't believe how you've  behaved towards her! For  your sake,
 you'd better have a reason for it!"
      Cydric stood stunned for a moment, taken aback by Mandi's tirade.
 He gulped, quickly weighing the  consequences of telling her the truth
 or compounding the little lies he'd already told.
      "Well? I'm waiting," said Mandi.
      "I had no idea her mother was dead," Cydric said cautiously. "You
 should've told me."
      "I didn't think I needed to.  I thought you'd be at least polite.
 Is  there a  reason that  you weren't,  or did  you suddenly  become a
1scrud- sucker overnight?"
      "Yes, there was a reason. But I don't need any abuse."
      "Sorry. Do you feel like telling me?"
      Cydric looked away and began to pace. He turned the question over
 and over in his mind. Would it do more harm than good to tell her? Was
 it really that much of a secret? Would it be so bad if he did tell? He
 debated  within  himself for  several  minutes.  Finally he  made  his
 decision.
      "All right, I'll tell you."

      "Brynna! Slow down! You can't  just walk out of the party--you're
 the guest of  honor! What's the matter?" Lady Thorne  hurried to catch
 up with her daughter.
      Brynna  stopped  and spun  to  face  her  mother. "Was  it  truly
 necessary to invite him?"
      "Him?  Xane? Well,  why  shouldn't I  have? After  all,  he is  a
 captain  like yourself.  I  imagine you  two have  lots  of things  in
 common."
      "You may as well have  invited every other ship captain currently
 in dock, for that matter."
      "Oh Brynna,  please. He's come  to apologize for whatever  it was
 that he  said to you. Not  many men would  do that! And besides,  I do
 believe that he's never been married before, either."
      Brynna exhaled loudly and crossed her arms. "Gods' breath, that's
 exactly what I thought. You never change, mother."
      "I don't  understand...." Lady Thorne stopped  speaking as Cydric
 and  Mandi came  out of  the  house and  headed past  them toward  the
 stables. Brynna waited  until they were out of earshot,  then said, "I
 suppose I'll have just to say it  plainly: I want you to stop throwing
 men at  me in  the hopes that  I'll marry one  of them!  It's becoming
 extremely annoying to return home and find you waiting with the 'catch
 of the  day', as it  were. Haven't I  said enough times  that marriage
 isn't important to me right now?"
      "But Brynna dear, you're almost thirty. It's--"
      "Age again. Mother, I don't want to talk about. Straight?"
      Lady Thorne  shook her head. "I  just--I don't know what  more to
 say. How  can I convince you?  You can't go rambling  around the world
 for the rest of your life. Someday you'll have to settle down."
      There was the sound of someone coming down the paved garden path.
 Both women turned to see Captain Hellriegel approaching them.
      "I'll  leave you  alone," said  Lady  Thorne. "But  this is  your
 chance --remember what I've said. Be  nice to him, now!" She nodded to
 Hellriegel as she headed up the path back to the house.

      "I  don't  think he  likes  me,"  Rayna sighed,  rapidly  fanning
 herself.
      "That's  not  true," Jannis  said,  trying  to sound  reassuring.
 "Cydric's probably just trying to work up the courage to--"
      "Hah! Just be  serious for a moment," Kiff  interjected. "The man
 killed a sorcerer with nothing but  an arrow. I think he's got courage
 enough. More likely  he'd prefer someone more--"  He suddenly realized
 that Rayna  was sadly staring at  him. "Uh, what I  meant was, someone
 who's not so...well, let's just say...."
      "Kiff," Jannis said.
      "What?"
      Jannis  made  an  obscene  gesture  to  him.  Kiff  sputtered  in
 indignation. Tassy giggled. Garrett looked  over at Kiff and shook his
 head.
      "Perhaps I should  be going now," Rayna said. She  started to get
 up, but  Jannis gently pushed  her back down.  "No, you don't  have to
1leave. I think  that's what Mandi's talking to him  about out there. I
 did notice that he was somewhat cool towards you."
      "Cool!" Kiff snorted. "Dead of winter  was more like it. His look
 alone could've frozen water! I mean, frostbite...."
      Jannis coughed loudly.  "One more word Kiff, and  I'll tell Mandi
 about Corinne."
      "Hah! Who?"
      Jannis took  out a handkerchief  and impressed her lips  upon it.
 She held up the cloth to display the red blotch left by her lip stain.
 "The girl Mandi will think this belongs to, that's who."
      "Hah! You wouldn't," Kiff said, his tone sobering.
      Jannis smiled sweetly.
      Rayna folded up her fan. "I  think I really should leave. I'm not
 feeling all that well anyway."
      "But Rayna--" Jannis looked to Tassy for help.
      "Tell your mother it was a  lovely party." Rayna got up and began
 to walk away.
      "Ah--you should at least have dinner!" Tassy called. "It would be
 a shame, almost  an insult really, to walk out  before the meal's been
 served."
      Rayna paused,  then returned to  the table. "I do  suppose that's
 true." She sat back down. "But why do you think Cydric was acting that
 way?"
      "Maybe he's got another girl," Kiff mumbled.
      "Kifton!" Jannis and Tassy said together.

      "Is anything wrong?" Captain Hellriegel asked.
      "Just  a  little family  disagreement.  Nothing  to be  concerned
 about," Brynna replied.
      "Why did you run out here, though? You seemed a little upset."
      "As I  said, nothing to  be concerned about." Brynna  turned away
 and peered closely at a nearby rose.
      Hellriegel nodded and clasped his  hands behind his back. After a
 moment  he said,  "Congratulations on  the medal.  It's an  honor well
 deserved."
      "Indeed," Brynna replied without turning around.
      Hellriegel let out  a breath and rubbed the back  of his neck. "I
 didn't expect this to be easy," he muttered to himself.
      Brynna straightened  up and faced  him. "I think I'll  be getting
 back to the party now. Do please  excuse me." She started to walk past
 him.
      Hellriegel grasped her arm. "Brynna--Captain Thorne, please wait.
 I--"
      Brynna glared  at him until he  released her. "Don't you  have to
 get under way soon? Your prisoners must be anxious to get to trial."
      "About what I said the other day. I'm sorry."
      "So mother was right. You did come to apologize."
      "Listen, Captain--I can't excuse what I  said to you that day. It
 was wholly obnoxious, it was entirely uncalled for, it was--"
      "Typically male?" Brynna finished.
      "All right, that too. There's no  way under Kisil-Doon I can take
 back what I said. All I can say is, I wish I'd never said it."
      Brynna nibbled her lower lip, but said nothing.
      Captain Hellriegel let his hands drop to his sides. "That's all I
 really came  here for.  I suppose I  should get back  to my  ship now.
 Goodbye, Captain." He slowly turned and started up the path.
      "Captain," Brynna called after a moment.
      Hellriegel stopped and faced her.
      "Would  you have  said similar  things to  a...a non-female  ship
 captain?"
1     Hellriegel grinned. "Definitely not. I'd have said something much
 worse!"
      Brynna strode up to  him. In a softer tone she  said, "If I might
 ask a small favor?"
      "Of course, anything."
      "I have some business to take care of in Magnus, and since you're
 already going there...."
      "My cabin is yours--if you want it, that is."
      Brynna smiled slightly. "We'll see."
      "This   wouldn't   have   anything   to   do   with   the   Codex
 Araltakonia--the book that Challion wanted so badly--would it now?"
      "It might," said Brynna. "If I could have an hour to get ready?"
      "Take all the time you need."

      Cydric sat down against a tree. "You may be surprised at what I'm
 about to tell you,  and for you to fully understand  I'm going to have
 to start at the very beginning."
      Mandi plopped down in front  of him, legs crossed underneath her.
 "I'm listening."
      "You  also  have  to  promise  not to  say  anything  until  I've
 finished."
      "Yes! Now get on with it."
      Cydric sighed, then proceeded to tell  her the truth. He told her
 that instead of being a scribe's son like he initially claimed, he was
 in fact the son of Khysar  Araesto, who was the King's Royal Treasurer
 and Duke  of Pyridain.  He told  her of  his long-standing  desire for
 adventure,  of his  love  for the  King's niece  Lysanda,  and of  the
 Dreamrealm adventure  he had shared with  the Sage of Dargon.  He then
 gave an account of how he was forced to marry Lysanda after he learned
 of  her  pregnancy,  and  of  how the  resulting  scandal  caused  the
 dissolution of their marriage.
      "...so that's why  I decided to leave Magnus, and  how I ended up
 in  Shark's Cove.  But when  you introduced  me to  Rayna, I  couldn't
 believe  it--she  looked  exactly   like  Lysanda.  Same  hair,  eyes,
 lips...they could almost  be twins. And everything that  I was feeling
 after  she left  with the  baby--it all  came flooding  back to  me. I
 thought I'd forgotten  her, about what she said...I was  afraid that I
 might  take it  all out  on Rayna.  So  I tried  to say  as little  as
 possible. Damned  unfair of me I  know, but..." He shrugged.  "I don't
 blame you if you're still angry."
      Mandi sat silent  for a moment, digesting all he  had revealed to
 her. "Pox,"  she said at length.  "When you said you  had a reason...I
 thought it was her looks, or her dress--I had no idea I'd be getting a
 full confession!"
      "I felt  I needed to tell  you the entire truth.  It was becoming
 too difficult to keep my lies straight."
      "I'm glad you  trust me enough to tell me  all this," Mandi said,
 placing her  hand on  his knee.  "But you actually  lived in  the same
 castle with the King! That is the most amazing thing I've--"
      "Are you still upset about how I acted towards Rayna?"
      "Well--well  of course  I am.  I  know what's  she's feeling;  my
 mother's dead, too."  Mandi traced a circle in the  dirt. "It happened
 when I  was a child,  though. I never  got along with  my stepmother--
 that's why I ran away and came  up here to join Brynna." She looked up
 and shook  Cydric's leg.  "But Rayna's  a completely  different person
 from Lysanda.  Just because  they look  the same--that  means nothing.
 Rayna may be  a little shy, but  she's warm and caring,  a really good
 friend. She would never do anything  to hurt anyone, and right now she
 needs  someone that  won't  leave her  after a  single  night. Do  you
 understand what  I mean? She deserves  a honest chance. Will  you give
1her at least that much?"
      Cydric slowly nodded. "You're right. I suppose I do owe her that.
 Should I apologize?"
      Mandi stood up  and dusted herself off. "How about  if the two of
 you go out to a tavern together?  You can start all over without being
 distracted."
      "Sounds like  a good idea. Help  me up, would you?"  He stretched
 out his hand. Mandi reached for him, but withdrew her hand at the last
 moment.
      "That was  extremely humorous,"  Cydric said,  getting up  on his
 own. Mandi giggled.  Cydric frowned. "Is that a  leafhopper?" he said,
 putting his finger on her shoulder.
      "What!" Mandi said, quickly turning  her head. Cydric flipped his
 palm over and lightly slapped her cheek.
      "Oooh!" Mandi exclaimed.
      "Now we're even. Shall we go?" Cydric grinned.
      "You have to tell Brynna, you know."
      "Oh," Cydric said.

      The first course  was served shortly after  everyone had returned
 to the house. Garrett frowned down suspiciously at his plate. "Is this
 it?" he asked.
      The dish consisted of a slab  of cooked beef in between two thick
 slices of bread. Kifton said, "It's a recipe Mother learned about from
 a  bard who  came through  here a  few weeks  ago. He  said it's  very
 popular down in  the southeastern duchy where it  originated. In fact,
 it's named after the Duke himself."
      "What Duke is it named after?" Tassy asked.
      Kifton thought. "Leftwich," he said.
      "A Leftwich," Mandi repeated. She took a small bite. "It's good,"
 she said.
 ------------------------------------------------------------------------
1                   The Bronze Horseman, Part 2
                         by Max Khaytsus
               <b.c.k.a. [email-masked]>

      Kera  gratefully  accepted  the sailor's  outstretched  hand  and
 jumped down onto the pier. After a few weeks at sea, it was a pleasant
 change to stand on ground that did not rock beneath her feet.
      "I hope you had a good voyage, miss," the sailor told her.
      "Actually that  was my  first time,"  Kera smiled.  "The constant
 rocking was...well, a pain."
      "Never been on a ship before?" the sailor asked with a smile.
      "I have,  but only  for a  few hours at  a time,"  admitted Kera.
 "Never had to sleep on one before."
      "That was a relatively calm trip," the sailor said. "You picked a
 good time to travel."
      "Calm?" Kera exclaimed. "What about that storm last week?"
      "That wasn't a  storm," the sailor laughed. "A month  or two more
 and storms like that will be common out there."
      "You below!"  someone yelled from  the ship.  "Get a move  on! We
 need to unload cargo before nightfall!"
      "Better go," the  sailor sighed. "Gotta make room  for new cargo.
 Enjoy your stay here, miss."
      "Thank you," Kera called as the  sailor rushed off. She walked up
 the pier to the dock and stopped, looking both ways. A board-walk much
 larger than the one at Dargon stretched  both ways as far as she could
 see. Rien said that  The Tipsy Dragon, the bar she  was to deliver his
 message to, was on the north shore  of the Laraka, about a league from
 the docks. She turned right, adjusting  her pack, and went towards the
 river.
      Kera wished she had her horse,  but as Rien predicted, she had to
 sell the animal  in Armand. The ship's captain refused  to put up with
 the horse on a three week journey  and there wasn't the time to travel
 by land.  She dreaded  having to sell  the horse, as  it had  been her
 constant companion  for the last  few months,  but there was  no other
 choice and  Rien promised her she  would be provided a  replacement in
 Sharks' Cove.
      After some walking Kera came to the  end of the dock at the north
 end of the Laraka river delta. On the island ahead of her rose a large
 stone castle that caught her eye.  It wasn't as tall or magnificent as
 Dargon Keep, but a single silver tipped spire pointing up into the sky
 over barely visible stone walls covered by a multitude of trees forced
 her to stop and look.
      Never having  been more than  two hours  beyond the gates  of the
 city of Dargon, Kera found everything to be a wondrous sight, even the
 ship she sailed in on. This castle, the second she had seen in all her
 life,  was  easily  one  of  such wonders  and  she  remained  on  the
 board-walk admiring it  for a long time. She had  heard the sailors on
 the ship talking about this castle,  Quirin Keep, and about its owner,
 Baron Morgen Roderick, whose reputation  matched that of Sharks' Cove,
 the so called "hind end of Baranur".
      Kera finally turned to the  road leading upriver, deeper into the
 city and  began looking for  her destination. There were  many beggars
 wandering the docks and a lot of drunken men slept by the walls of the
 buildings near the  pier. The other people, who Kera  imagined to be a
 little more respectable,  were not as friendly as the  folk in Dargon.
 When  she  asked for  directions,  most  simply  ignored her  as  they
 wandered by  and those who did  stop to shrug their  shoulders did not
 even dare  to smile. The  entire atmosphere of  the city was  rude and
 impersonal. One young  man even walked up and pinched  her behind. She
 turned around and  whopped him one so  hard that he slunk  away with a
1bloody nose and  a fat lip. Then  for a whole block people  got out of
 her way, which kept her immensely amused.
      By  late afternoon  Kera found  a two  story building  facing the
 river with the words "The Tipsy Dragon" painted across a sign board on
 the front,  right below an  overweight dragon reclining lazily  on the
 letters.  The crowd  in this  part  of town  appeared to  be a  little
 wealthier, better dressed and somewhat more friendly.
      After a brief  hesitation Kera entered the tavern.  Inside it was
 murky and  loud, but Kera  was surprised to  see that no  drunk people
 slept on the tables and, on the  whole, it was a lot cleaner than most
 places in Dargon.
      A large bouncer looked down at Kera. He must have been over seven
 feet tall!  She must have  missed him because  he blended in  with the
 furniture so  well. Everything appeared  a little imposing.  Feeling a
 little self conscious,  Kera slipped by him into the  large main room.
 Three musicians  played on a raised  platform in the far  corner and a
 young woman sang  in front of them.  Kera tried to catch  the words to
 the song,  but realized they  were in  a foreign language.  She wasn't
 that far from Dargon, was she? In either case, both the melody and the
 words were pleasant  to the ear. Finding  a seat at the  bar, Kera sat
 down.
      The bartender was  off at the other  end of the bar  and she took
 the  time to  look  around a  bit. Perhaps  the  bar's most  prominent
 feature was  a kite shield hanging  up above the center  stand, with a
 large crimson  dragon sprawled  out on his  back, obviously  drunk and
 just  having released  a  belch in  a puff  of  circular white  smoke,
 painted on the shield's face. Kera almost giggled at the sight.
      "What can I  get you?" the bartender walked over  to Kera. He was
 young, maybe a little older than she, with good muscle tone and a deep
 tan from being  in the sun. Definitely not the  typical overweight and
 balding barkeep with a dirty apron.
      "Mead," Kera  said and he  walked off.  She wondered how  to best
 follow  Rien's  directions  without  making a  fool  of  herself.  The
 bartender came back and placed a glass before her.
      "I'm carrying a message," she said.
      The man looked up. "For whom?"
      "I am carrying a message," Kera repeated.
      The man frowned  and looked around the room. "When  the singer is
 done, talk to her."
      Kera nodded  and picked up  her drink. When the  bartender walked
 away, she turned to watch the group on stage. The three musicians, all
 men, were dressed uniformly. At first Kera thought it to be frivolous,
 but  then realizing  that  by dressing  this way  the  men would  make
 themselves more recognizable, she saw the logic.
      The  girl singing  was commonly  dressed,  if a  little like  the
 merchant  class, which  could  afford better  garb.  She was  slightly
 taller than Kera, dark eyed with blond hair.
      Kera was wondering why she has  to deal with a musician, when the
 singer finished  her song  and bowed. The  patrons began  cheering and
 even the bartender  clapped his hands. Someone yelled for  her to sing
 again and the majority of the tavern began cheering her on.
      The young woman raised her hands  into the air to silence the mob
 and when it was quiet, started  speaking in a slightly accented voice.
 "Let me take a break and I will sing again later in the evening."
      "You're  just trying  to keep  us here  so we  buy more  drinks!"
 someone yelled and the patrons broke into laughter.
      The  young woman  got off  the  stage and  went to  the bar.  The
 bartender walked over to her and  placed a glass with dark blue syrupy
 liquid before her.
      As Kera watched,  they chatted with each other for  a while, then
1the bartender pointed  in Kera's direction. After a few  more words he
 left and  the singer walked  over and sat down  by Kera. Up  close she
 looked a little older than Kera had initially thought. Maybe thirty or
 so.
      "I am told  you brought a message," the woman  said. "Are you one
 of the new couriers?"
      Kera shook her head. "I feel like one, but I'm not."
      "Who is it from?"
      "Sir Keegan," Kera answered.
      The woman looked puzzled. "Rien?"
      Kera nodded. "I didn't know what you called him here."
      "May I see it?"
      Kera picked up  her pack off the floor and  pulling the rolled up
 sheet out, cautiously handed it over.
      Noticing the apprehension, the woman put the parchment on the bar
 and reached her hand out to Kera.  "I am Adrea Rainer. I'm in the same
 line of work as Rien and for the time being in charge here."
      "I'm Kera. Rien apprenticed me."
      Adrea laughed. "So  he finally broke down and took  one. Have you
 had dinner yet?"
      Kera shook her head.
      "Good," Adrea said. "You can  keep me company. Brice!" she called
 to the  bartender. "Serve us  dinner." She  picked up the  message and
 asked Kera to follow her to a corner table, where she read it.
      "I'm afraid  he's a little  late going after Sir  Garwood Quinn,"
 Adrea said. "We  sent a man up  two weeks ago. I expect  Rien will run
 into him."
      "He  couldn't make  it earlier,"  Kera  said. "There  were a  few
 problems."
      Brice came over  with a tray and served dinner  to the two women.
 "It tastes better than it looks," he said and left.
      "Problems?" Adrea asked, ignoring the bartender.
      "I can't comment on them," Kera said. "I don't know if Rien wants
 this known."
      Silence  ruled the  table for  a  few moments,  then Adrea  spoke
 again. "How long have you been with him?"
      "We met in Dargon before Melrin," Kera said.
      "How did his vacation go?"
      "I didn't  find it very relaxing,"  Kera said, "but he  claims it
 was a break from the normal routine."
      "First one he took in three  years," Adrea said. "He tends to get
 into trouble just for the adventure of it."
      "Life with him isn't boring," Kera agreed. "I wish he hadn't sent
 me here for his stuff. I can't begin  to tell you how many times I got
 sea sick on that boat."
      "First time?"
      "No.  I've  been on  boats  before,  but  never for  three  weeks
 straight."
      "A few more times and you'll get used to it," Adrea promised.
      "A few more  times and I'll develop a phobia,"  Kera smiled. "I'm
 just glad I'm not going back the same way."
      "When do you want to get going?"
      "As  soon as  I can,  I suppose.  How long  will it  take to  put
 everything together?"
      "An hour or so," Adrea said. "We weren't expecting you."
      Kera nodded. She  was surprised at the short amount  of time, but
 did not give it away. "That will be fine."
      "Why don't you spend the  night here?" Adrea offered. "After that
 boat ride you may need the rest."
      Kera thought about it for a moment. "I suppose a night won't make
1that big a difference. Why not."
      "Good,"  Adrea  approved.  "I'll  show you  to  your  room  after
 dinner." Silence took hold for a  little longer, then Adrea pointed to
 Kera's pack. "Is that all of your gear?"
      "I sold  my horse and armor  in Armand," Kera said.  "Neither one
 had much  room or purpose  on the ship."  Not true, really.  The horse
 could have served as  company at least as good as  some of the sailors
 and the armor could have been  packed neatly under something to be out
 of the way, but available if necessary.
      "A horse is no problem,"  Adrea answered thoughtfully, "but we'll
 have to measure you for armor. What's your height...?"
      Brice returned to the table. "Adrea?"
      "We're not done yet," she looked up.
      "The couriers are back," he said.
      "Damn!" she  moved her plate  aside and  stood up. "One  of these
 days I'll get out on the streets again and you can handle the messes."
      "That's what happens when you have children," he answered.
      "Get back  to the  bar," Adrea  shooed him  away. She  turned and
 looked at Kera's confused expression.  "I'm the senior member present.
 I deal with all problems. You want to come along?"
      Kera nodded and got up, following  Adrea to a room behind the bar
 where two men  waited for them. She recognized one  as the courier who
 delivered the message to  Rien in Dargon, but he did  not seem to know
 her. Perhaps the  cloak had protected her better than  she thought. He
 handed Adrea  a rolled  up sheet and  she sat down  to read  it, after
 tearing the seal.
      "This just proves  Bichu can't go to war!" she  finally said. She
 wrote her  response under the  message and resealed the  letter. "Take
 this back. I want to know who and where!"
      The two men left.
      "They don't get to sleep over?" Kera asked with a smile.
      "I guess  I'm running  them a bit  ragged," Adrea  admitted, "but
 there are all these rumors and no trace of their source."
      "What makes you think that Bichu does not want to go to war?"
      "Lack of a fleet. They need to get here to attack us."
      "I met  a Bichuese  man up  in Dargon," Kera  said. "He  was very
 nice."
      "In Dargon?" Adrea asked.
      "He  is Baron  Connall's  Castellan," Kera  said.  "He came  here
 because of a family feud at home."
      Adrea scribbled a note on a  sheet and folded it. "I'll have this
 checked. He may know something useful. Let's go finish dinner."
      The two women returned to the dining room.
      "Do you know Rien well?" Kera asked suddenly when they sat down.
      "I suppose," Adrea  answered. "We've worked together  for a while
 now."
      "Can  you  tell me  about  him?  He  doesn't talk  about  himself
 much..."
      "That's a sensitive one," Adrea  said. "What do you already know?
 You know where he is from?"
      "Charnelwood," Kera said. "He told me about his parents also."
      "Good," Adrea nodded. "I wouldn't be  telling you much if you did
 not know this. It's the most sensitive part of him."
      "I understand why he has so much to hide..."
      "Well, let's see,"  Adrea began, "he wanted to find  out what the
 real  world is  all  about.  His people  avoided  outside contact  for
 centuries. A long time ago,  according to histories...what we now call
 myths, the world was quite different. Our scholar could tell you a lot
 more about those. I'll introduce you to him this evening. Rien's tribe
 has  been  secluded from  everything  since  before Baranur  became  a
1country.
      "From  what I  understand, his  father was  one of  the very  few
 contacts they made with the outside  world. How and why, I don't know,
 but obviously one thing led to another and Rien was born. I don't know
 how his tribe treats him, but he definitely feels he is an outsider to
 them and above all, doesn't talk much about it."
      "What  about  his  name?  It  doesn't sound  elven.  Was  it  his
 father's?"
      "What do you consider elven," Adrea asked.
      Kera honestly  could not answer.  "I meant it sounds  human," she
 said.
      "It is,  but it's not  his father's. Have  you ever heard  of Sir
 Gaelan Keegan?"
      Kera shook her head.
      "I'm not  surprised. He  doesn't talk much  about that  either. I
 didn't know  about it until  I saw  it in a  book and brought  it up,"
 Adrea said. "I don't know why that man never became a hero. Judging by
 his biography,  he should  have. A  century ago  Sir Gaelan  Keegan, a
 baron in  the Duchy of Arvalia,  together with a dozen  of his knights
 defeated the  mob lead by  Duke Silas  Wolfric's brother, to  take the
 duchy back...and didn't lose any of  his men in the overnight victory.
 Of course that was also the only thing he did in his lifetime."
      Kera continued staring blankly, not understanding the relevance."
      "Rien was there,"  Adrea emphasized. "He was  Sir Gaelan Keegan's
 squire. Gaelan took him to help him  learn how to fit in. That's where
 he got the name."
      Kera felt herself  turn pale, forgetting her  question dealt with
 Rien's name. "How old is he?"
      "I don't know,"  Adrea said. "He was about fifty  back then. That
 would make him a hundred and fifty now."
      Kera gasped.
      "Are you all right?" Adrea asked.
      "I didn't realize he was that old," Kera said.
      "Elves tend  to do  that..." Adrea  smiled. "Or,  as he  puts it,
 `Ljosalfar do; I don't know about the Dopkalfar'."
      They both laughed at the  expression and quickly finished dinner.
 Adrea then sang a  bit more for the customers and  after, took Kera to
 the back room and down a flight of stairs.
      "This is  where our people  stay," Adrea said, showing  Kera into
 one of the rooms on the floor. "We  try to keep our staff in the dark,
 underground. Regular customers stay on the top floor."
      Kera dropped her  pack on the bed and looked  around the room. It
 was large, larger than the one in the Connall Keep. Candles mounted in
 special brackets on the  walls kept the room well lit  and there was a
 distinct lack of windows, which made  the room look gloomy in spite of
 the plentiful lighting.
      "I've never slept underground before," Kera noted.
      "I promise you won't get sea sick," Adrea smiled.
      The bottom level of the tavern was occupied by a small library, a
 relaxation area and  a laboratory. They were all brightly  lit, but it
 was not obvious  by what. There were candles on  walls and tables, but
 none were lit and none cast  shadows. Kera spun around, looking at the
 floor, searching for her shadow, but it was not there.
      "Magic," Adrea explained. "Come, I'll  introduce you to the force
 behind it."
      "Force?" Kera asked, hurrying to catch up.
      Adrea opened the  laboratory door and walked in  with Kera behind
 her. The room was as big as the  rest of the level. It was filled with
 counters and shelves  along the wall and tables in  the center. On one
 of the tables was an assortment of vials and beakers and other various
1equipment, most of which Kera could  not identify if her life depended
 on  it.  Most of  the  glassware  was  filled with  different  colored
 liquids, some boiling over into other dishes, others standing aside.
      It took  Kera a  while to see  the blond haired  man in  his late
 thirties  sitting across  from the  door, watching  a glass  with some
 liquid heating over a flame.
      "Deven?" Adrea called to him and  he raised his hand in response,
 without looking up.
      "Hold on." He had a distinct foreign accent.
      "Let me show you around," Adrea sighed. "He gets so much into his
 work he forgets to eat. He tends to sleep here too..."
      Adrea took Kera  around the lab, mentioning  equipment and trying
 to explain the setups. Most of  the information went right over Kera's
 head. Noticing that,  Adrea assured her that a year  ago she knew next
 to nothing about magic as well.
      Finally the liquid Deven was watching changed color and he turned
 to the two women.
      "It's supper time," Adrea told him.
      "I already ate," he answered.
      "That  was lunch,"  Adrea reminded  him. "This,"  she pointed  to
 Kera, "is Rien's trainee, Kera. Kera, meet our resident wizard, Deven.
 We'd all be lost without him, but he'd be twice as lost without us."
      "A pleasure to  meet you," Deven said, taking  Kera's hand. "Will
 you be staying a while?"
      "Just  overnight,"  Kera  said.  "I  came  by  to  pick  up  some
 equipment."
      "That's good," he mumbled. "Is Rien here?"
      "He's up in Phedra," Adrea answered.
      "Oh...." the  mage said,  looking over  his shoulder.  "It's nice
 meeting you..." he told Kera and went back to the tables.
      "Did I offend him?" Kera asked Adrea.
      "Don't  worry.  He  probably  just  remembered  something.  He'll
 remember about you later in the evening."
      "I have a book I need to give him."
      "What book?" Adrea asked.
      "From the Ducal library in Dargon. Rien wanted it copied if there
 are no copies here. He told me  it goes to `the guy who can't remember
 his name'."
      "Sounds like you found him," Adrea smirked. She led Kera from the
 laboratory to the  library. "Let's see if  we have a copy.  What is it
 called? Who wrote it?"
      "Realities of Myths by Bistra."
      Adrea started  scanning the shelves. A  lot of the books  were in
 foreign languages. Most looked new, but well used. "No," Adrea finally
 said. "Doesn't look like we have it. What is it about?"
      "Uh..." Kera hesitated. "It talks about magic and mythology."
      Adrea pulled a thick tome from the shelf and started flipping her
 way through  it. "It's not listed,"  she finally said. "We  don't have
 it. I  never even  heard of it.  What did Rien  need a  mythology book
 for?"
      "It's  not  exactly  mythology,"  Kera  said.  "It  explains  how
 mythological and unnatural things fit in the natural world."
      "You sound like Rien."
      Kera smiled, a little embarrassed. "That's how he explained it to
 me  when he  started  looking for  it."  It wasn't  an  answer to  the
 question asked and she thought about  it a little longer. Adrea seemed
 to know Rien pretty well. "Rien  got lycanthropy when he was in Dargon
 and wanted  the book to  obtain more information about  it...he's fine
 now," she added quickly.
      Adrea looked thoughtful. "Tell me about it."
1     Over  the   next  hour  Kera   told  Adrea  the  story   of  what
 happened...most of what happened, since she felt some parts, including
 her meeting  with Rien and  their relationship should  remain private.
 Adrea was  very understanding and it  made Kera feel better  for being
 honest.
      After their talk Adrea went to check on her daughter and Kera got
 the book and returned to the laboratory.
      Deven was  back watching the  transparent liquid bubbling  over a
 flame. If Kera  had not seen him move when  Adrea introduced them, she
 would have sworn he was frozen  to the bench. She remained standing in
 the doorway until  Deven looked up. He must have  been more alert than
 he appeared.
      "Come in," he said. "What can I do for you?"
      Kera showed him the book. "Rien told me to ask you to make a copy
 of this if you don't have one."
      Deven examined the book. "Never heard of it. Did you check in the
 library?"
      "Adrea did. She didn't find it."
      "Then we probably don't have it," he said. "Let's go copy it."
      "Now?" Kera asked. "I heard it  takes months for a scribe to copy
 a book!"
      "And  that's  precisely the  reason  my  father never  made  much
 money," Deven said. "Magic is an art form of many applications."
      As  Kera  watched, Deven  got  a  clay  box  and a  long  stemmed
 yellow-green plant and after placing the  box on the book, on which he
 lay the  plant, he cast a  spell. Before Kera's eyes  the plant turned
 into a book identical  to the one at the bottom of  the stack. The box
 between the two books glowed a dim red.
      "What is it?" Kera asked when Deven finished.
      "A scribe's  hand," he  answered as  if miscellaneous  body parts
 were an everyday occurrence to him.
      Kera took a deliberate step back, but he did not seem to notice.
      "This will only last for a day  or so," Deven went on. He found a
 bottle of ink and a small green  gem and spent the next hour trying to
 crush the gem  into powder and then,  mixing it with the  ink, made it
 into a paste. All this time he kept asking Kera about the book and her
 education and  discussing what she  knew, though he spoke  very little
 about himself. By  the time the paste was ready,  Kera understood what
 Adrea meant when  she said she learned  a lot about magic  in the last
 year.
      The  paste, which  there turned  out to  be quite  a lot  of, was
 molded  around the  new book  and Deven  cast another  spell. The  box
 stopped glowing and  the paste disappeared. Deven proudly  held up the
 two books.
      "Even the true owner wouldn't know  which is which. Give this one
 to Adrea to send back. I will catalog the other."
      Kera thanked him and retreated upstairs. Deven was an interesting
 person to  listen to, but  after an hour  of listening to  theories of
 crystal stability and how to make  octopus ink into real ink, Kera had
 a headache she felt may outlive her.
      "Is Deven  still working?" Adrea asked  when Kera made it  to the
 bar.
      "He was making a copy of the book."
      "Is  he done?  Well, never  mind. He  wouldn't let  you go  if he
 wasn't."
      Kera  smiled and  handed Adrea  the book  to be  delivered. "This
 needs to be returned."
      "Who does it go to?"
      "Rish Vogel,  a chronicaler in  the Duchy of Dargon,"  Kera said.
 "It's from the Duke's library. That's  the only place there was a copy
1in the whole city."
      "I take it neither the Duke, nor this Vogel know it's missing?"
      "They might by  now," Kera said. "I didn't think  they'd just let
 us borrow it."
      "You should ask Deven about  some of his stories," Adrea laughed.
 "He used to be a book thief."
      "With spells like that?" Kera asked, surprised.
      "He created  the spells  after the College  of Bards  caught him.
 That's the one he'll  talk your ear off with. I'll  have the book sent
 to Dargon as  soon as there is a courier  available," Adrea said. "Now
 I'd better go beat Deven over the head. One of these days I should let
 him alone,  just to  see how long  it takes him  to realize  that he's
 hungry. He's bound to notice it sooner or later...I hope."
      Kera remained  on her stool,  watching the band play.  There were
 more customers now than before. Brice  served her a drink and after an
 exchange of pleasantries left to help the other patrons.
      After a  while Kera  began getting bored.  There wasn't  all that
 much to  do at  the tavern.  The people  here were  for the  most part
 middle aged  and cultured;  a crowd  Kera could not  fit in  with. She
 nursed her drink a while longer and then went outside.
      A crescent  moon shone  above the  bay off to  the west  and Kera
 wandered down the  street towards the harbor. Within a  few blocks the
 buildings became rundown and a lack  of street light, artificial as it
 was, became apparent. Kera noticed a  person sleeping by the wall of a
 building and edged by carefully, so as not to disturb anything.
      For  the most  part the  streets  were empty,  but appeared  more
 dangerous  than the  ones in  Dargon, even  if there  was an  assassin
 looking for  her there.  A patrol  passed by Kera  and she  could have
 sworn that at least two of  the three guards were drunk. They stumbled
 on, past  her, not  even noticing  she was there.  Even in  Dargon the
 guards, who  suspected Kera  was a  criminal, would  greet her  in the
 streets. Sharks' Cove was dirty and foreign and impersonal.
      Kera turned off  the cobblestone street and made her  way down to
 the river. During her voyage at sea Kera learned that her newly gained
 night sight  made it possible for  her to see fish  swimming under the
 water at night, but it was not  the case here. The water was murky and
 dirty and although it ran very fast, it had a stagnant smell to it.
      Kera sat down on shore, looking into the water. She wanted to put
 her feet in it, but decided against  it. The beach was dark and quiet.
 On the  shore across from  her, at least  a half league  distant, Kera
 noted  flickering lights  and a  dark  massive structure.  It was  the
 Quirin Keep. She  watched the lights a little longer.  One, high above
 the structure appeared and disappeared every few seconds. It must have
 been a guard  patrolling up at the  top of the tower.  After some time
 Kera  got up  and started  walking along  the beach.  For some  reason
 Sharks' Cove felt wrong and uncomfortable. She could not wait to leave
 this city.
      After a while  Kera heard a commotion and  edging carefully ahead
 saw two people fighting in the  dark. Her initial instinct was to stop
 them...or join the fight herself -- she was never exactly sure of this
 impulse, but after a few moments  of thought decided not to interfear.
 There was no  reason for her to  get into trouble in a  town where she
 would only  spend the  night and  making a  resolution not  to provoke
 anyone, returned to The Tipsy Dragon.

      In the morning, after breakfast, Adrea  took Kera out back to the
 stables to  give her the  equipment and  the horses. The  night before
 Kera was  measured for armor after  she returned to the  inn and while
 there was no  plate that fit her perfectly, Enneth,  the large man who
 was standing at  the door the previous day, found  a suit of chainmail
1for Kera overnight.
      The two  horses, as  Kera found  out, were  thundersteeds. Large,
 heavy animals with  hairy feet. Kera had  to stand on her  toes to see
 over their backs.
      "Rien takes  a lot  of ribbing  from us  about his  horse," Adrea
 said, pointing to one of the mounts.  "A knight on a mare. Her name is
 Kelsey, by  the way. But she's  better behaved than most  knights I've
 met."
      Kera walked around  the horse, looking it over. On  the left side
 of the saddle hung a kite shield covered by a cloth. Kera lifted it up
 to reveal the  coat of arms --  a white oak on a  dim blue background.
 She smiled at the sight of the symbol Rien had told her about.
      "It's covered so he won't  advertise," Adrea said. "I don't think
 he uses it much  anyway. His lance has been lying  about back here for
 the last two and a half years, gathering dust."
      "He's not much of a knight, is he?" Kera asked.
      "I don't  think he  understands knighthood," Adrea  answered. "Or
 maybe he doesn't want to understand it.  He really has a point when he
 says that  there is  no reason  to give an  opponent the  advantage of
 equal footing."
      Kera walked over to the horse given to her. It was also female, a
 few inches shorter,  but tall enough to  force her on her  toes to see
 the top of the saddle. "If you're  trying to be inobvious, why are you
 using thundersteeds?"
      "We  don't normally,"  Adrea said.  "Most are  riding horses  and
 light war horses, depending on what  sort of jobs we do. Most couriers
 use  lighter horses  that won't  stand a  chance in  a fight,  but can
 outrun almost  any beast. Rien tends  to push his horse  to the limit,
 along with himself, so he uses one that can take the strain and you'll
 need one to keep up."
      Kera paused a  moment longer, looking over the  animals. "I guess
 I'd best get going," she said finally.
      "Provisions and money  are in your saddlebags. Rien's  gear is on
 Kelsey," Adrea quickly finished the inventory. "Will you need anything
 else?"
      "Good weather and decent directions," Kera smiled.
      Adrea fished around in Kelsey's saddlebag and pulled out a rolled
 up scroll. "One map. You'll have  to request the weather from a higher
 source."
      Kera took the map and got up  on her horse, glad that she was not
 wearing plate when having to climb. "Any messages?"
      "Just tell him `welcome back'."
      Kera took Kelsey's reigns and  looped them around a protrusion on
 her horse's  saddle. This  way she could  control both  animals. "Does
 this one," she pointed to the horse she sat on, "have a name?"
      "Not really. You can have the honor of naming her."

      Having heard that Garwood Quinn was still settled in Phedra, Kera
 decided to enter  the village with caution. The farmers  a few leagues
 south of  her destination warned her  that all roads were  guarded and
 the only  traffic on them  has been a  group of Quinn's  men returning
 from a raid. There was no evidence of any adventurers, or anyone else,
 leaving Phedra, although  a number went there to claim  the reward. As
 yet there has been no evidence that anyone had succeeded.
      With all this in mind, Kera  secured the horses in a wooded grove
 away  from the  road,  in the  hills  south of  the  village to  avoid
 detection. She  also left her  chain armor,  sword and bow  behind. If
 Rien  was in  Phedra,  he may  need  help  and she  may  need to  stay
 inobvious.  Being   inconspicuous  was  the  trait   of  the  thieving
 profession which she knew so well.
1     After some  time of fighting her  way through the brush  and tall
 stalks of grain,  Kera spotted an elderly man checking  the crops. She
 was about to duck back into the growth, when he spotted her.
      "Hey! What are you doing in there?"
      She froze as he made his way to her.
      "Stop trampling  the wheat!  Get out  on the  path. What  are you
 doing in there?"
      Kera  looked the  farmer over.  He was  probably in  his fifties,
 shaggy, tired  looking and most  importantly, unarmed. With a  sigh of
 relief Kera stepped out of the crop to face the farmer.
      "What are you doing here, girl?" he asked again.
      "I was on my way to Phedra," Kera answered.
      "On your way to Phedra?" the  man echoed. "Now that's a foolhardy
 thing to  do. If  Sir Quinn  sees you, you'll  never leave,  young and
 pretty as you are."
      "I am  looking for a  friend of mine,"  Kera said. "He  should be
 waiting for me in Phedra."
      "No one has  friends in Phedra any more," the  villager said. "It
 all belongs to  Quinn. If your friend was smart,  he avoided Phedra. I
 recommend you do that too. Don't go to Phedra. It's not safe."
      "Maybe you've  seen him,"  Kera got an  idea. "He's  blond, about
 this tall,"  her hand  rose to  the six  foot level,  "on a  light war
 horse? He should have been here about a week or two ago."
      The  man thought  for  a moment,  as if  trying  to remember  the
 multitude of travellers that passed by. "No one like that, miss. Not a
 commoner. There was a knight like that, though."
      "A knight?" Kera snapped. She  knew Rien disliked knighthood, but
 a knight riding into town would  be much more impressive. "When? Where
 did he go?"
      The farmer shook his head. "A little over two weeks, miss, but he
 didn't go anywhere. Sir Quinn challenged him to a joust...and he lost.
 Everyone Sir Quinn challenges looses."
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              ______________________________________

              A Journal of Fact, Fiction and Opinion
              ______________________________________

 Quanta is an electronically distributed magazine of science fiction.
 Published monthly,  each issue contains short fiction,  articles and
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1   (C)   Copyright    July,       1990,   DargonZine,    Editor   Dafydd
 <[email-masked]>. All rights revert to the authors. These stories may
 not be reproduced  or redistributed (save in the case of reproducing the
 whole 'zine for further distribution) without the  express permission of
 the author involved.