The rooftops, to a cautious child, were often safer than the streets. Fewer people, and only those with purpose and direction, took the thieves' road across Vos'Marr. From the high roads, you could go about your business without fearing the thugs and vagabonds that wandered the cobblestones below.
On that high road, unblinking eyes staring hungrily at a couple of young faces, a young orphan boy who knew his name as Damos stalked the highroads. Well practiced steps kept him in easy sight of two children, despite their steady speed and the press of the crowd around them.
On brief occasions, when the wooden planks between rooftops would allow it, Damos could hear small shards of their conversation, and found himself letting his quarry slip away until they were out of earshot.
It wasn't what they were saying, which consisted to a flurry of references to 'minced pastries', 'merry berry' and 'menu', but the idyllic tone that they carried that drew him to follow them.
Like him, these two were both orphans. A boy and a girl, both younger than he, and no strangers to the clawing, horrifying desperation that came from prolonged hunger. He had seen them both before, weak and sallow-eyed, greedily clutching scraps of food from garbage.
It hurt his heart, in a way that tore all too similarly to hunger, to see the two of them with calm, hopeful eyes and cheerful voices.
He crossed a small beam that lead into a small balcony, where he knelt and listened for the two children he followed.
"How do you spell menu?" The boy asked. Damos watched as the boy handed a small stick to the girl, and pointed into the dirt at the street corner.
She paused, and slowly drew M-E-N-U on the ground. "Merry said that if has that written on the top, in big letters, then it's a menu." The girl explained.
"When did he learn how to read?" The boy asked, and the girl only shrugged in reply. It took Damos a few incredulous moments to decide that Merry was in fact a person.
His quarry's pace, though idyllic, quickly took them out of earshot, and Damos scrambled to follow them.
"Merry." Beriven said, hesitantly.
The two of them had been busy in the fridge for over an hour, trying to drag a small shelf through a much smaller door. Marius insisted that it could be done, while Beriven, needing to talk with his friend, took to the task with relish.
"It'll work, Berry. I swear it." Marius insisted. "I think if we take the front end in first, and then stand it up while it's at an angle, we can wedge it through the frame."
"It's not that." Beriven admitted, and Marius slowly let the shelf set on the ground, solemnly staring.
"You're going to start bringing other people here, aren't you? Other orphans." Beriven said, looking at Marius through the shelf. "You're going to want to help them."
Marius sighed, and said slowly "No and Yes."
"What the hell does that mean?" Beriven asked, his temper suddenly flaring.
"You asked two questions, didn't you? No, I don't want to bring more people here, and yes, I want to help the other orphans in the city." Marius replied, a note of steel in his voice.
"Why didn't you say that in the first place?" Beriven shouted.
"Because I thought your head was filled with something other than Minorsan mush!" Marius said, scathingly. "Don't ask questions if you don't want to hear answers!"
"Don't be a smart-ass if you aren't smart!" Beriven retorted.
Both boys stared at each other for a long moment, their unblinking glares fixed directly into each other's eyes. Their hands gripped the shelf, their heads tilted forward a little, and both boys tried hard to scowl.
Their silent face-off lasted just long enough for the freezer fan to start, and blow flakes of snow into their faces. They flinched, turned their heads away, and turned back.
Beriven had his hands beside his head, thumbs resting in his ears, and his tongue sticking out. Marius started laughing as soon as he saw this, and both boys fell to the floor in a fit.
"What were we arguing about, Merry?" Beriven gasped, between giggles.
"I don't know, stupid. You brought it up." Marius responded, in brief pants.
As the laughter subsided, the boys sat against the door of the fridge, and looked at each other.
"What're you worrying about, Berry?" Marius asked.
"You." Beriven said. "You look guilty about everything we've done."
"Not about what we have now. It's just..." Marius tried to explain, finishing with a lame little shrug.
"You think we shouldn't have what we do?"
"No, not that."
"But you think other orphans should have it, too?" Beriven asked.
"Exactly. We shouldn't be starving, but why should the others out there?" Marius asked. He gestured towards the doors, and said "If we can do something to help them, why shouldn't we?"
"Because we're not responsible for them." Beriven insisted, crossing his arms. "We look after our friends, or family. We don't reach beyond that because it's not the way the world works."
"Who cares if it's how the world works. Why should it be how we work?" Marius asked. "Why should we do nothing to help them, just because no one else is?"
"Because our family isn't completely off the streets yet, either. Should we spend our time finding jobs for other orphans, or setting up free meals once in a while, instead of teaching the others to read and write?" Beriven countered. "What about finding Mystery, or Anita and you jobs? And if we spend all this time helping out other orphans, why should we live off our family's hard work without contributing?"
Marius had no ready response, and he leaned back against the wall and slumped his head. "I don't know, Berry. I really don't, but..."
"But you want to anyway." Berry finished, a note of disappointment in his voice.
"I think I should be, Berry. It might not be right away, but it has to happen soon. If we start living the good life while there are still orphans starving, I don't think I could handle it." Marius admitted.
"I don't know either, Merry. But we've gotta worry about ourselves, first." Beriven insisted. "If we don't, we might loose what we have, and be back to stealing for food. None of us want that."
"No." Marius agreed. "But when can we start? When are we safe enough that we can help out?"
Beriven shrugged lamely, and turned back to the shelf, still stuck half-way through the door. The boys struggled with it some more, eventually managing to take it apart before trying to fit it through the doorway. Neither of them spoke.
Damos stopped just above a small cafe, watching straight below as his quarry walked inside through the front door. There was still a full half-hour before the store opened, which confirmed to the boy that the two children he had followed were employed.
It meant the strange little man had told the truth.
He stared at the door hungrily, his stomach fondly remembering yesterday's succulent roast. His mouth watered, and he closed his eyes in order to catch the new aromas that started to trickle through the front doors.
Unknown to him, that strangle little man was already sitting on the balcony just below, watching the boy with a carefully sculpted mask of indifference.
"Well, boy. Found something that interests you?" The man asked, loudly, to the bemused boy. Damos leapt up, glancing around wildly for a moment around him, as if afraid.
The man laughed, softly, until Damos looked down the balcony. "You nearly killed me, mister." He said, climbing down the wall.
"You should be more careful." The man replied, pointing across the table. "Have some Minorsans, they just arrived on a freighter."
Not waiting for another invitation, Damos shot greedy fingers into the plate of fruit, snatching at the largest piece his eyes could find.
"Don't dirty the rest of them with your fingers." The man admonished, speaking loudly. Damos nodded, and reached his hand out more carefully for his next piece.
The boy sat down carefully, and looked at the man for a long moment. "Why are you here, again?"
"I like the food." The man replied, taking a piece of fruit. "They make a marvelous minced pastry, you know."
"Don't kid me." Damos said harshly, leaning forward. "You dragged me up here yesterday, just to tell me a couple of orphans had found jobs. Now you're here again. Why?"
"People aren't like lightning bolts. They often end up in the same place more than once." The man said, between quick bites of the fruit.
"What?" Damos asked, confused.
"Never mind." The man said. He turned away from Damos, towards the stairs. "Could you bring up a bit of Descan Coffee?" He shouted down the stairs. "With just a hint of milk?"
Damos hardly had a moment to stare downstairs before a cheerful looking girl poked her head around the corner, and asked "Descan Coffee? Anything for your friend, sir?"
Damos recognized her instantly as a half of the orphaned duo he had been stalking all morning. He hissed to himself, ready to bolt, until he was certain that she didn't recognize him.
The man smiled to himself, and said "I already told him about your minced pastry. Bring up a glass of juice with it."
"Yes, sir." She said, turning back down the stairs.
"Odds are pretty good that she'll botch your order," the man told Damos, "but she's barely been working a month. She's actually pretty good, for someone who's just seen the first decade of her life."
"What do they pay her?" Damos asked, hunger in his voice.
The man shrugged in response, but smiled faintly.
They both turned as footsteps trundled up the stairs, and the little girl cradled a minced pastry and a glass of minorsan juice on a small tray.
"Your lucky day." The short man said, as he took the tray from her hands. He set the food in front of Damos, who attacked it with hasty, unsteady hands. The man turned to the girl, and asked her "How much do they pay you, little girl?"
"Three ducats a week." She said proudly, and added in a bit of a whisper to Damos "and they feed me lunch for free."
Damos' ears perked at he thought of eating regularly, and asked "Is it enough to live on?"
"So far." She replied, with a shrug. "It's a little new for us, but we can buy food regularly."
"Are you really an orphan? You don't look it anymore." Damos said.
"Yeah, I am." She answered.
"Can you find me work? Here maybe? Or somewhere else?" Damos asked, hungrily. He stared at her, ignoring his half-finished food despite his hunger, hinging on what he might hear next.
The girl stepped backwards a step, suddenly wary, while the man sitting across from them smiled to himself.
Beriven looked carefully at the small pile of coins sitting on the makeshift table, and slid a few into a smaller pile.
"This is what we need for food. It will buy some grains, pasta, and vegetables. It's enough to feed everyone for a month, give or take a few days." Beriven explained.
"Give or take a few days? Why is that?" Thug asked.
"Because some days, Thug eats more than usual." Anita said sagely.
"So Thug's gonna pay for our food?" Beriven asked, with a sheepish grin to belay the faux gravity of his query.
The others laughed, gently, until Marius started sliding coins back to the wage-earners in the group.
"This is all the group needs to keep us fed, and since Anita found that new job Beriven works at, we don't have to have a clothing budget." Marius said, as he slid the last Ducat back to Beriven.
"Didn't we decide that we'd need work clothes? Especially me and Thema?" Bug asked quickly.
"When does she get back, anyway?" Thug asked.
"We did, but we haven't decided how we're going to pay for that." Marius answered, ignoring Thug. "Do we want a pot that everyone pitches into, or do we want to buy our own?"
"A pot." Thug insisted.
"Really?" Beriven asked, a little surprised. "How come?"
"Because that way we have extra money to take, when we need it. Especially if someone's starting a job, you know?" Thug explained.
Berivn and Marius nodded to each other, making a great show of being impressed. A few snickers came from the others, and Thug threw a pencil at Beriven.
"When does Thema get back?" Thug asked, again.
"In about an hour." Marius answered. "How much do we want to put aside for it?"
"How about a half-ducat a month from each of us?" Beriven asked. "If it's too much, we can set a cap on how much goes in the pot."
"That's a good idea. How about fifteen ducats max." Thug said.
"I like it." Bug agreed.
The group slid a half-ducat each back to Marius, who took a small, glass jar that used to have pickled mumbels in it. He dropped in inside, and on a piece of paper, wrote down the two and a half ducats, folded the piece of paper up, and set the paper inside the jar.
"Should we have a jar set up for other things? Like when we bought the sleeping bags. Something we use to save up for a bed, blankets, a moisture collector so we don't need to use the creek on the outskirts to shower." Bug said.
The others looked at each other without answering, and Bug nervously stared at the ground until Marius spoke.
"Did you have any projects in mind?"
"Well, I think we need one more sleeping bag." Bug said, after a moment. "I remember you and Anita fighting over who got to go without one last night. It kept me up for a while."
"Merry just wouldn't admit it wasn't his turn." Anita said, with a mocking frown.
"You had gone three days in a row." Marius exclaimed.
"Right. One more sleeping bag. Everyone pay up, or Merry and Anita share from now on." Beriven said, with a grin. Everyone started laughing, as the group slid Beriven a few ducats. "I'll buy it before dinner. No one wants to hear Merry and Anita howling late at night."
The laughter was loud enough to bring Tha'varr in from the kitchen, asking "who's keeping us up at night?"
"Merry and Anita. You know, a boy, a girl, only one sleeping bag..." Thug started lamely. Tha'varr shot him a dirty look, and Anita reached over to smack him across the back of the head.
"Oh, on a side note." Marius said. "I have one more potential job. An elderly merchant, a fortune teller. She was asking about having a cute girl around to do 'palm reading', or something along that line."
"What are the work hours like?" Anita asked.
"Four days a week, four hours a day."
"What's she offering?"
"Two ducats a week." Marius said, bewildered. "It seems she takes in more customers than she can handle. Oh, if you take this job, we just need to find work for Tha'varr, Mystery and me."
Bug cheered at that, though the others didn't say anything.
"Anita, are you sure you want to take the job?" Beriven asked.
"I thought we'd find something for Mystery and Tha'varr first." Anita said. "You know, because me and Merry are doing so well at finding jobs."
"Besides, Merry needs to start teaching these fools how to read." Beriven noted. "That just leaves Anita to do most of the job hunting."
Mystery chimed in after a moment, adding "Should we be paying Tha'varr, since she does all the cooking?"
There were a few guilty looks from around the group, but they were interrupted when the door slammed shut, followed by the rapid patter of running feet.
"Guys!" Thema said, breathlessly. She threw herself into the circle, slumping to the ground and panting heavily. "We have a problem."
"What is it?" Marius asked.
"There's a boy, another orphan like us, who just asked me if we'd find him a job. He knows we call ourselves the lucky orphans, and he tried to follow me here!" Thema said.
A few of the boys swore, and Mystery stood up and left, heading for another room. "Did you manage to loose him?" Marius asked.
"I think so. He's pretty familiar with the rooftops, but I managed to duck through one of the sewer tunnels near the clock-tower." Thema answered.
"Good." Beriven replied. "Do you remember who the boy was? A name, even?"
"I don't know him, except the man who introduced us called him Damos." Thema answered.
"A man?" Beriven asked, incredulously.
"You mean the short man who always sits on the balcony? The one that's usually there twice a week?" Bug said.
"Exactly, him. Seems he was giving the orphan food."
Beriven looked over to Marius, who nodded quickly. Beriven turned back to Thema, and asked "Can you tell me anything else about him?"
"He's short, a little shorter than Thug. He has black hair, and he wears loose clothing. He looks like a vagabond, but he's clean. His face has no hair on it, and his fingernails don't have a lot of dirt under them." Thema said.
"It's definitely him." Marius said.
"Who?"
"We'll explain at dinner, when everyone's here. In the meantime, Berry, could you and Thug take a look around, just to make sure he isn't nearby? Anita, you may as well buy that sleeping bag, and the rest of us will help Tha'varr with dinner." Marius said.
"Who put you in charge?" Thug asked, with a bit of a grin. There were a few laughs from the comment, and Marius smiled.
Marius found Mystery sitting in a dark broom closet, with his eyes closed and his head resting against the back of the wall.
"Thinking?" Marius asked, and grinned a little when Mystery didn't respond.
"That's a yes, I think." Marius said. "Berry and I are sure this guy who tipped off Damos was 'the boss'. We saw him before, when we were selling food to the cook."
"The boss." Mystery said. "The silent and largely anonymous ruler of Vos Ma'ar. What don't we know, Marius?"
"What do you mean?" Marius asked, confused.
"We know that it was the Boss, but we don't know what he's doing, or why he's doing it." Mystery explained.
Marius smiled at him, a strange experience considering the stress they were now under. "How are you so calm right now?"
Mystery only shrugged.
"Is he trying to destroy us, for lying to his goons?" Marius asked.
"Too much time has passed, and it's too subtle. Why try to get the orphans to rob and hurt us when he could just have his goons do it?" Mystery said.
"It's also..." Marius said, carefully. "It seems like a test. If he wanted to destroy us, he would have done it. But I think our more immediate problem is this boy, Damos. What do we do about him?"
"Do we help him? Do we hurt him? Do we ignore him?" Mystery reflected.
"How about helping him?" Mystery asked.
"How about the old post man? That old guy who delivers the letters? If Damos is comfortable with the rooftops..." Marius asked.
Mystery smiled, and said "You should tell Beriven that."
"No. I need to go talk with someone else. Would you mind telling Berry? Let him know before he finds Damos."
Marius braved the dark streets across a route he, and his friends, had taken once before. Having entangled themselves again with the unofficial authority of Vos Ma'ar, Marius walked towards the Stump in a desperate attempt to keep his companions safe.
He hesitated at the front doors, finding that as he raised his hand to knock on the door, it shook uncontrollably. His eyes were fighting back tears, and his bones felt as heavy as lead.
Despite it, he grinned. Part of him, a strange and usually quiet part, knew that if those he cared about were in danger, that he would not want to be anywhere but in the way. That part of him put the grin on his face, and let him knock his fist against the door.
He knocked three times, as loudly as his little fist would let him.
The door opened, lethargically, to reveal the same big man who let them inside when they had come looking for the cook. "What'd you want?" He asked.
"I'm here to see the boss. He's expecting me." Marius said, without a single quiver in his voice.
At once disturbing and relieving, the big man said "Funny, that. He said some little urchin might come bash on the door. Told me to show him inside. Be buggered if I know why. But that's why he's the boss." He stepped aside, leaving the door open and beckoning Marius inside. "Be on your best behaviour, mind. I'll break your bones as quickly as anyone else, child or no."
Marius swallowed and nodded emphatically, stopping just short of giving a 'yes, sir' to the big man. He said 'thanks' to the door man, though, and asked "where should I go? I've never met the boss before."
The big man smiled. "Your problem," he said. "Boss added that if you couldn't pick him out, that you didn't have any business talking to him."
Marius actually felt a little relieved, as he took in what the bouncer told him. He stepped into the room, and immediately began scanning the tables, looking for that person who, before, had made such a dramatic impression on him.
The many tables on the bar floor were filled with people, so much so that the noise seemed to create a visible haze in the air. Conversations and cheers merged into a single, uncomfortable melody that made thinking difficult. Putting his hands to his ears, Marius scanned the fringes instead, and while noting the private balcony overhead, looked over to the dark, poorly lit corners of the room.
In one of them, at a small table with only two chairs, sat a small, ordinary looking man wearing a brown cloak. He sat gently on his seat, as if afraid to put too much of a burden on it, and looked busy contemplating the small tea-pot set before him.
Marius smiled, and began walking over to that small corner.
The moment he made about half of the distance, someone else slipped into step beside him, and softly asked "are you Marius or Beriven?"
Marius turned to him, his face ashen, blood pounding in his legs, his eyes already locked on the exit. The same man spoke again, and made a placating gesture with his hands. "Whoa, kid. Relax. If the boss is letting you come talk to him, you're as safe as you can ever be in this city. He'd have my head for attacking a guest."
Marius turned to him, forcing his breathing to slow, and said "I bet you scared me for fun."
The man, surprisingly tall considering how well he blended into the crowd, gave a sheepish grin and shrugged. "Yeah, a little" he admitted. "But I'm asking because depending on your answer, you either won me a ship, or just sent me to Artanus on a shipping run that I won't be paid for." He stopped, and held out his hand. "Gothe Mortimer, trader or smuggler, depends on how legal my cargo is."
"Marius Altaire." The boy answered, giving the hand a firm shake.
"Gizka barf!" Gothe said, the sheepish grin flickerling a little as he took the hand. "I don't suppose you can pretend to be Beriven. I was really looking forward to owning my own ship."
"Sorry, but I don't know the Boss very well. I'd rather not be in his bad books before I meet him." Marius replied.
"Besides, I'll bet he already knows. All-right kid, let's go see what he wants to do with you." He said, picking up a chair and heading towards the small man in the brown cloak.
Marius followed, and as soon as they stepped beyond the last chair before the boss' small table, the noise suddenly disappeared.
"Noise cancelers." Gothe explained, as he noticed Marius' startled expression. "It saves the lungs a lot of work."
They stepped up to the table, and Gothe put his chair down. He offered it to Marius, who shook his head, waiting. The Boss still looked lost in thought, and had yet to look up and acknowledge the two of them.
Anxious seconds passed before the Boss looked up, and asked "Courtesy? Or am I misunderstanding you?"
"Courtesy, sir. I am just a guest." Marius replied.
"No. Not just a guest. You, my young friend, are a confusticating puzzle, my most vexing quandary." He then gestured to the open seat, and inclined his head to Marius, who gratefully sat down. "You see, I've learned a great deal about you 'lucky orphans', including the inspirational minds that enable it to flourish. You and your friend, Beriven Vaime, turned a group of lost, hopeless orphans into children who are fed, clothed, and happy. You have gathered for them the essentials of a dignified life, and you did it not only without making them a burden, but made use of their own potential to make it happen."
"We had a lot of help." Marius said. "It wouldn't have happened if they weren't willing and capable."
"True." The Boss replied. "But the difference between a competent general, and a magnificent one, is being able to bring out and make use of the real capacity of those he leads. Finding work for a group of orphans is a feat I have been attempting to achieve for almost a decade, and I have less to show for it than you and Berry."
Marius gulped a little when he heard Beriven's nickname used aloud.
"Do you know why there is no slave trade in Vos Ma'ar? Particularly in a place with no official government and an overabundance of parent-less children?" The Boss asked, quietly.
Marius thought for a moment, before saying "I don't know, sir. I never thought about it before. I suspect, though, it's because you did something to prevent it?"
"I did. A bloody war that cost too many lives. Believe me, kid, I didn't do it out of a keen sense for business. Slavery is still profitable on Laxum, and burying a crime syndicate is expensive." The Boss explained.
"Thank you, sir." Marius said.
The Boss, for the first time, reacted. He looked startled, as Marius offered him something he never expected to hear. It was with a suddenly choked voice, that the Boss said "You're very welcome."
Even the trader, Gothe, seemed a little taken aback, and leaned over to Marius. "I've never seen him react before. Not like that. Be careful."
The boss smiled, and the emotions seemed to melt back beneath his face. "Where this concerns you, Marius, is that I have not been able to fit you orphans into how the city runs. As much as I tried, I couldn't create the institutions, or get the people interested in improving your situation. If you orphans survived the first bunch of years, and got old enough to make yourselves useful, I could make use of you myself, or find someone else who could give you an honest life. But for the children, I was powerless to help them."
"When you found jobs for two of your companions, I wasn't all that impressed. It was when I asked the owner, and discovered that you were going to teach them how to read, that startled me. You see, a job in itself isn't going to help these orphans. What I needed, and always lacked, was the capacity to set up schools, to teach orphans and still provide them a certain amount of leisure. The two who work in that cafe can now read about two-thirds of the menu, and are fairly good at figuring out the rest. While the pace isn't as effective as a real school on Courascent, it is an improvement, and your friends do have the luxury of free-time.
My question, Marius, was if I could make use of you. If you're accomplishments could be applied to the orphans outside of your little group."
The Boss smiled, and said "Have you deduced, finally, why I sent Damos to you?"
"Is that the boy's name? The one who followed Thema home?" Marius asked.
"You came here before meeting him?" The boss asked. "Before having the situation explained by him?" He leaned back in his chair a little, and set his hands beneath his chin. "I underestimated you. How did you know which table to walk to?"
"We saw you before." Marius admitted. "When we were here the first time, to make that proposal to the cook."
"Ah, I do remember that. It's what first prompted me to have you children watched. Brilliant decision, by the way." He added, raising his cup a little in a salute to the boy. "But I didn't think you recognized who I am, just from having seen me once. What tipped you off? My anonymity is a part of my reputation in Vos Ma'ar."
Marius smiled sheepishly, and said "You don't actually look like you belong. You're dressed like a vagabond, but you're completely clean. No hair on your face, no dirt on your robes, and your boots aren't nearly worn-out enough."
"That shouldn't have tipped you off." The Boss said.
"Not by itself. But people who can afford it dress nicer, and those that don't aren't as clean. You just don't fit, if someone can stop and figure it out." Marius finished, sheepishly.
"Ha! He pegged you! The little boy does what even private detectives can't." Gothe Mortimer exclaimed, giving Marius a hard pat on the back.
"There's a good story in that." The Boss agreed. "Those crime syndicates I mentioned earlier, a few of them hired..." He paused, and waved his hand. "Later. For now, boy, we need to decide what we're going to do with you. You're here, not because I'm demanding retribution, but because I have a problem. One much larger than you and your friends."
Marius waited, as the Boss explained that "My problem is with the orphans. The entire city is drowning in them, and I'm having a hard time finding a solution. My subordinates have some reservations about using muscle to keep them in line, and they're too young to do grunt work for me. They're too bold about stealing, and without a government here in Vos Ma'ar, there's no orphanages or schools to put them in." He said, quietly.
"I need them off the streets. They either need to be cared for, contributing, or elsewhere." He said.
Marius swallowed hard, and asked "Why us?"
"You're smarter than that, boy." The Boss replied, scathingly. "You know why."
"Because you think you can use us."
"Exactly. Or, at least, I was certain, but you surprised me by deducing my plan before you chose to help Damos. This creates a problem, because I can't trust you if you're not willing to help them, on your own. If I coerce you into it, you'll keep your eyes open for the first chance to run. That will get you killed, and then I'm just back where I started."
"So, unless my friends find Damos, and decide to help him, we're toast?" Marius asked. He swallowed hard, and remembered the bitter fight with Beriven over how much help they should offer the other children.
"More or less. The thing that bodes poorly for either of us, is the fact that you're here." The Boss answered. "As far as I've been able to tell, you're the compassionate one in the group. Not being there, who will decide what your friends do about Damos?"
"Beriven." Marius said.
"Then I suggest you settle into your seat, and enjoy the meal I'm about to serve. You and I will wait, to see how your friends deal with Damos."
