Chapter 1 - Vernes

I first spotted him leaving the lantern-lit docks of Vernes. A tall, well-built young man walking alongside a scrawny boy carrying a canvas satchel. I quickly dismissed the adolescent boy and focused on my target. He was just as Arcadius had described him - light brown hair, tanned skin, blue eyes, dressed in the Calian fashion with three swords strapped to his back. The ratty boy was rambling on about witches and fortune telling.

The boy said brightly, "We have already passed a dozen perfectly dark corners."

I immediately suspected the boy was a con-artist. Why else would a filthy street urchin be pestering a new arrival like that? The boy smiled broadly, overly reassuring, and asked the man's name. Lovely, now I'd have to keep an eye on the sneaky kid too.

The large handsome man extended his hand and smiled back, taken in completely "Hadrian, Hadrian Blackwater."

The narrow streets were dark and it was easy to follow them unobserved. The two nattered on amiably, making no attempt keep their voices down.

"Did your mother name you that?" the man asked, his voice a pleasing baritone.

"Oh most certainly," - the pair continued around a corner and I kept in earshot - "rumor has it I was both conceived and born on the same crate of pickles."

As I followed Hadrian and the boy, I was quickly struck by Hadrian's stride. I could tell the man was an experienced soldier, walking with long easy steps, his hips rising and falling in a mesmerizing rhythm. Through his light, linen clothing, it was easy to make what must lay underneath. Behind his weapons lay a strong back, broad shoulders and toned arms. I could tell that despite his size, he was lean, with not an ounce of fat to spare. Although I usually was drawn to a slimmer, lithe type, I couldn't deny this soldier's obvious appeal. Perhaps this job wouldn't be a complete waste of time. At least there will be a nice view.