Rosto shook his long hair as he entered the Dancing Dove. It was October and the rain, which had started two hours ago, was coming down in sheets, freezing anyone with the gall to go outside to the core. Even Rosto felt the chill, despite his many winters in Scanra.

The Dancing Dove had a dark glow and was mostly empty; most folk had opted to stay dry rather than brave the chill for ale. For once Rosto was grateful; he loved his people and his role as Rouge, but enjoyed a break from the boisterous company of rushers and gamblers alike. He went to poke the fire in the hearth to life when he heard a small tapping sound. It repeated at regular intervals, methodic. Abandoning his desire for warmth, Rosto headed to the back of the Dove, to the hall way that led to rooms an the upper floors. He discovered the sound to be Aniki. She was casually sitting at the base of the staircase that led to the roof. He had her back to one side of the wall and stretched her legs out across the stairs. She was tossing thin knife, spinning it in the air. The tapping was the sound of the blade touching the metal of her wrist guards. Her expression was somber, containing none of its usual mirth.

"Aniki. What are ye doing sittin in the dark, lass?" he questioned leaning against the stairwell.

"Stopping anyone who values their life from coming up these steps." She answered, still spinning the knife. Rosto narrowed he is eyes when he recognized the blade.

"Aniki," he started slowly, "what are you doing with Beka's knife?" Aniki seemed unphased by his question, expecting it.

"She threw it at me." Rosto's eyes widened.

"What do you mean she threw it at you?! Aniki yer no looby; you know better than to mess with Dogs, specially not Beka's. Has the Trickster touched ye in the head?!" Rosto was exasperated.

"Settle down Rosto. No, I didn't go tangling with any Dogs. Least not intentionally. " Aniki paused and looked at Rosto with disbelief in her eyes.

"Rosto…where have you been all night?" Rosto shook his head, wondering why in the world she was asking.

"Klavek's mot was having her baby tonight. Klavek was a mess, asked be to be there. What with the hedgewitches predicting the rain, I figured it would be a slow night and I went. Why?"

"Then ye heard nothing." She said, making it a statement rather than a question. She continued. "Beka's on the roof. She came back an hour ago. She came flyin in here, and stormed up the steps. I followed her up. The mot tossed her blade at me. I caught it and took it as a sign to leave. I'm just waitin to return it to her."

"Why in Mithros' name would she come here? What is going on?" Rosto asked, still confused.

"Ye…it's better to go up, talk to her about it." Aniki moved her legs up for Rosto to pass. He did so immediately, eager for answers.

Carefully Rosto opened the door to the roof and stepped out into the rain. He was drenched through in seconds. Looking out he could make out the silhouette of Beka Cooper seated with her knees pulled up to her chest, sitting at the far end. Facing the docks.

"Enjoying the view Cooper?" called Rosto. She didn't answer so slowly Rosto made his way to her. He stood next to her. For once, Beka spoke without any prompting.

"We walked the Nightmarket tonight. We got wind that some scummernobs were having a slave auction tonight."

"I'd not heard," said Rosto truthfully.

"Rosto, it was…it was terrible. And we couldn't do a thing about it." Rosto was confused by two things. The first was what exactly she was talking about. However, he knew it must have been bad, for the second thing that confused him were the tears in her voice. For the first time since arriving on the roof, Rosto turned to face her, squatting on his haunches. He pulled out a piece of wood spelled to illuminate at the sound of a word. When he saw Beka's face he gasped.

"Mithros' shield Beka! What happened to ye tonight? Why have you not been to see a healer?"

"The healers at the kennel are busy," she mumbled as Rosto looked her over. She had a gash that started under her left eye and continued down to where her shoulder met her neck. She also had burns all over her hands.

"Love, let's get ye inside." When Beka didn't move, Rosto scooped her up into his arms. Using a different entrance that went straight to his chambers he re-entered the Dancing Dove.

He set her down in a chair next to his hearth and poked up a fire. Throwing caution to the wind, Rosto began to undress her. He knew something was very wrong when she did not protest. He pulled off her wrists guards, murmuring soft sounds of sympathy at the sight of the burns and bruises. Next came her spiked strap in her braid. He undid her braid gently, towel trying it. Then her pulled off her Dogs' tunic. An ugly bruise was spreading across her ribs. Rosto then pulled off her boots and breaches, helping her to put on a pair of his own. Then he retrieved his bruise balm and bandages.

"Kora would kill for tending you myself 'stead of getting' ye to a proper healer." Beka hissed in pain as he began to clean the gash on her face.

"Beka, what happened tonight?" he asked, his voice stern. Beka sniffed and began to talk.

"We walked Night Market tonight, Tunstall, Goodwin an me. We had a tip an we thought we'd go an check it out. There was an ol' storehouse on the docks, one of the bigs that usta hold cattle. The loobies musta had fifty slaves in there. We had no choice but to go in. Just before we went in the three of us blew our whistles callin' fer all the Dogs in the area to come. It was a violent thing. A huge Carthaki walloped Tunstall over the head with a club. Goodwin got that one. The one that cut me- I cornered him in the storehouse he went wild with somat that looked like a Yamani blade. I chased him though. I chased him out of the storehouse. Goodwin yelled at me, hollered fer me to come back. But I was mad." Beka's voice caught as tears filled her eyes. For the first time, she focuses her gaze on Rosto.

"Rosto, they had mots and coves younger than you, younger than me. And little gixies barely old enough to-to know…I chased him out of there. I followed the rat to his ship- it wasn't one of the huge ones, just a net fishing boat. I followed him right onto the deck. I caught up wid him too. We had ourselves a tussle. I knifed in the belly an he fell down into the hull. I followed him down there and, goddess, there were more slaves. A whole ship full. The rats must have been sailin 'round for weeks, taking them from the Copper Isles, the Yamani Islands and Carthak. There was another fifty on the boat, all younguns, none of them over ten years old, locked in cages or shackled to the ship. That rat, blast him, he was dying and knew it. He grabbed a lantern and before I could stop him, dropped it. The fuel spread everywhere, burning everything. I blew my whistle like there was no tomorrow an to work breaking locks." Tears were freely flowing down her face. Rosto continued to apply burn balm and bruise balm, his heart breaking for his friend. She took a deep breath and continued.

"That curst ship burned fast and it got hot. I got some of the cages open and told the younguns to run. The other Dogs musta showed up them, and helped get them off the boat. The ship was coming apart and there were still more slaves. Goodwin shouted at me to leave." Beka stopped taking and closed her eyes, the scene replaying in her mind.

"Cooper, we have to get off his boat now!" shouted Goodwin above the roar of the flames.

"There's still more children." Replied Beka, trying to fight through the flames and burning wood. Beka was jerked back as Goodwin grabbed her tunic.

"What good will we do them if we die on the way out." The boat gave a huge lurch and the bag of the ship began to fall away into the water. Goodwin took the opportunity to drag Beka to the stairs leading to the deck. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, Beka realized that it had started to rain. Seeing that there really was no other choice, Beka stopped fighting Goodwin and both women ran off the ship. They leapt for the dock just as the ship went under.

Beka was silent, staring at what would be those children's watery graves. Suddenly Goodwin was in front of her face.

"Cooper we have work to do. There're a lot of small ones that we have to take care of." Beka still didn't move from shock. Goodwin gave her a small shake.

"Cooper, snap out of it. We've got a job to do! Listen to me," Beka focused her eyes on Goodwin and saw the pain in the older woman's eyes. "You can't save them all. It's impossible. You do what you can and you get before you die. You're no use to anyone dead. I don't like it either, lass. But it is what it is. Come on." The Dogs spent the next hour getting the slaves sorted and ended up mustering out much later than normal. That's when Beka went to the roof of the Dancing Dove.

"Here," said Rosto. He handed Beka one of his shirt. Slowly she pulled it over her head. She looked at her hands and realized with some surprise that they were wrapped up. Gently, Rosto pulled her to her feet and led her to his bed. He lay down in it, pulling her down with him. She didn't fight him, but lay with her back to his chest. He held her close as the tears slowed.

"Ye can't get all the rats Beka. You save those ye can and pray for safe passage to the Black God for the ones ye can't." he said, smoothing her hair back.

"That's what Goodwin said. It feels like no matter what I do, I can't ever win, not completely." She whispered drowsily, her energy leaving her quickly.

"No, ye don't always win. But you, my terrier, win more than most. Fer that ye should be grateful. Ye just gotta pick yerself up an when the sun shines again, move forward." Beka didn't respond. Rosto leaned over and saw that she was asleep. Pulling her closer, Rosto closed his eyes.

In the morning, Rosto's bed was empty. He rolled over to the side which Beka had laid and felt a piece of parchment crinkle beneath him. Half awake, he pulled the parchment out and held it up to the light that was streaming in through his window.

Rosto,

I've gone to seize the day. Thank you.

Beka

PS: See you at breakfast