XI

"Sometimes I wonder why we bother with such concepts as 'morning'. It's not like we'll see the sun."

"It keeps things ordered," Maddox said, sitting across from Romney as the mercenary regarded the cavern ceiling high above them. Amser-Colofn's fire was barely visible from his seat at a small café set on a slightly raised plateau in the Central Market, burning only on the lowest quarter of the pillar, if that high. "Much as I enjoy the pleasantries, you sent word that you had important information for me."

"I do," Romney agreed wit a nod. "But as I said, my information does not come cheap."

"I am aware of that," Maddox said, placing a pair of stones on the table. Romney quickly snatched up the sapphires, carefully appraising one of them for a long moment.

"This is Caer Llion's handiwork," the mercenary observed. He smiled as he placed the gems back on the table underneath his hand. "I suppose you received them before the disaster in the artisans' district?"

"Do they satisfy your price?" Maddox inquired curtly, ignoring Romney's question. The mercenary considered the price for a moment.

"Maybe one more," Romney said, stroking his chin in thought. Maddox scowled, but took another of the sapphires from his belt pouch and tossed it across the table. Romney caught the gem and quickly placed it with the others under his hand. "Your inquiry began with your suspicion of Brenin Llywd," the mercenary began. "Do you still think it is the fourteenth house?"

"We don't know," Maddox answered. "What little information we have points to them. Except the shadowdancer."

"You're right," Romney said. "What little information can be found does point to Brenin Llywd."

"Then it is Eirian?" Maddox assumed. Romney smiled as he shook his head.

"They are involved, but they are not the prime house," the rogue answered. "They have supplied arms, soldiers, and money to another house."

"Who?" Maddox asked urgently.

"Who employs a shadowdancer?" Romney inquired in reply. Maddox paused for a moment, unwilling to make the connection. Why would Blodyn-tywell attack them? "Other than the seventh house," Romney clarified, seeing the wizard's distress.

"We don't know," Maddox answered. "Why play games? I've given you your payment. Tell me who it is!"

"Have you heard of House Evnissien?" Romney queried, leaning back slightly.

"Evnissien?" Maddox echoed. "They… the seventeenth house plots against us?"

"It was very interesting," Romney said. "They have kept it quite a secret. Matron Saffir has had a shadowdancer in her employ for almost a full year, and no one has realized it. This Cadwared has been most careful to conceal his true identity. One of my operatives has had a rather lengthy affair with a commoner in House Evnissien's employ. She was reluctant at best to part with the information, but part with it she did. Oh, and consider the fact that you'll have one less priestess to deal with in your coming assault to be a favor for a faithful customer."

"But they are at war with their duergar," Maddox countered, ignoring Romney's gift of a slain priestess. "Or so Bradwr's contacts say."

"Yes, they do say that," Romney agreed with a smirk. "But trust me, it is all illusions. And a rather cunning one, I might add. Just enough rumors to make it sound real, but not so much that the truth of it is doubted. Matron Saffir has done well, so far."

"You're sure about this," Maddox said. "All of this. The rumors, the shadowdancer, everything."

"I wouldn't take your money if I wasn't," Romney answered. "After all, if I were remiss in my duties, no one would hire me."

"We'll need your mercenaries," Maddox said. Romney's smirk widened faintly.

"You'll need more money," the rogue pointed out.

"You'll get it," Maddox promised. The wizard stood quickly. "If you'll excuse me."

"Oh, of course," Romney said, standing as well. Without another word, Maddox quickly exited the tavern and disappeared down into the throngs of the Central Market.


"Matron Mother, can I speak with you?"

"If it is about our plans, Arwydd, you may speak," Saffir Evnissien said, appraising the map of the Hen Wyneb compound that Naomhin had given her. In the dim light of the Evnissnien study, the Matron's eyes were glued to the detailed layout of the rival house. Talaith and Rhonwen flanked the matron, Talaith lost in thought and Rhonwen showing the faintest hint of contempt for the slightly younger noble daughter.

"It does, to an extent, concern our plans," Arwydd began hesitantly. She had hoped to find the matron alone, not with Talaith and especially not with that toady Rhonwen. The matter of Pryderi Gwalchgwynn was hardly one that she wanted to share with her vicious older sister or the spiteful handmaiden. Matron Saffir glanced up at her daughter for a moment.

"Then you may speak," she reiterated. Arwydd paused for a moment. Talaith regarded her sister for a moment, then turned to the matron.

"Tybalt says he is on schedule," Talaith said. Matron Saffir turned to her. "They should have everything completed within the next two cycles of Amser-Colofn."

"Good," Saffir said. "Much as I am loathe to depend upon a dwarf, their success or failure could determine the entire battle."

"Then perhaps we should send drow with them," Rhonwen suggested. Saffir shook her head.

"We will need every slave and drow we have to assault the main gate," the matron mother explained, pointing to the map. "Especially with Brenin Llywd's withdrawal, we do not have the troops to spare them reinforcements."

"We can trust Tybalt," Talaith surmised. "He is tactless, but he is as skilled in combat as he is in mining."

"Perhaps we should use some of Gwalchgwynn's soldiers to reinforce them," Rhonwen said, looking up to Arwydd. "Can they supply a dozen or so?"

"I… don't know, for certain," Arwydd answered. Was Rhonwen smirking at her?

"Pryderi proved most useful in our fight against Care Llion," Talaith added. "We could use the services of that wizard. Especially if Fychan cannot remove Maddox before the battle."

"Yes, another powerful wizard would be useful," Saffir observed, giving Talaith a nod of approval. Then she turned an expectant glance to Arwydd. "I would like to have Pryderi join this battle with us."

"I… don't know if… if that can be arranged, for certain," Arwydd faltered.

"We could use Pryderi and Fychan here," Talaith said, turning her attention back to the map. "They will be exposed to the sentries for a moment, but Fychan… will know how to get by unscathed."

"Fychan… sentries?" Arwydd stammered. More than anyone else, Fychan would be certain to sacrifice Pryderi for his own well being. "Matron mother…"

"We will minimize our losses that way," Saffir explained. "And if Gwalchgwynn were to lose a talented elderboy, it only means that they will need us that much more."

"I want him," Arwydd blurted out. Matron Saffir, Talaith, and Rhonwen all turned to the youngest priestess.

"I know," Saffir growled out, a vicious smile coming to her face.

Arwydd barely realized the trap had sprung before she was caught. Crushing pain shot up through her legs as a pair of stone hands burst from the study floor and grabbed her ankles, holding her in place as her mother and sister advanced around the table on her. Arwydd's hands went to her weapons, ready to draw her whip and sword, but cables of stone shot up from the ground and snared her wrists, pulling her arms back painfully behind her body. Held helpless by the earthen manacles, Arwydd could only watch as her family slowly circled her.

"I trusted you to be our emissary to House Gwalchgwynn," Saffir hissed, turning her furious gaze on Arwydd. "I trusted you to show discretion and use good judgment. And this is how you repay me?"

"Mistress, I... I don't know what you're talking about!" Arwydd tried. Rhonwen let out a sinister chuckle as she took the noble's whip from her belt. To her amazement, not a single snake head moved to bite the commoner as she circled behind the bound noble.

"You would risk our house for a simple night of pleasure with him!" Matron Saffir snapped, slapping her daughter across the face. "You have let yourself be trapped by a mere male, from a lower house! Had any but Cadwared witnessed your indiscretions, our plans could have been destroyed!"

"But… he's mine, I'm not his!" Arwydd tried, glancing over her shoulder to see Rhonwen preparing to strike her with her own whip. Matron Saffir said nothing, but gently lifted Pryderi's pendant from beneath her robes. Arwydd stiffened as her mother examined the sparkling opal.

"Is he," Saffir said. Without warning she ripped the pendant free of Arwydd's neck with a painful snap. "Then tell me, dear child, what enchantment has he placed upon this pendant?"

"I… detected nothing other than a faint aura of protection," Arwydd replied hesitantly.

There was nothing more than a faint hiss to warn her of the attack. Still held fast by the stone, Arwydd shrieked in pain as her own whip bit into her back, nearly tumbling forward but held fast by her bonds. Stunned that her own whip would turn against her, Arwydd looked over her shoulder in shock. Her momentary glance revealed the commoner's smug, icy smile, but her vision burst into a bright explosion of pain as her mother's whip ripped through her robes and tore into her unprotected chest.

"You barely tried!" Saffir bellowed, catching her daughter by the throat as she rocked backward. The matron's gripped tightened to a steely vise around Arwydd's neck, leaving her gasping desperately for air that would not come. "How could a daughter of mine be so stupid? Why is it that Rhonwen is a commoner and you, frail, impulsive, nothing more than a rogue if not for my blood in your veins, are my daughter?"

Darkness started to eat away at the edges of Arwydd's vision. Frantically she struggled against the earthen restraints and her mother's iron grip, but Saffir dragged her forward

"You are a disgrace," the matron hissed. She shoved Arwydd back, finally releasing her daughter.

Arwydd barely had time to gasp for breath before Rhonwen struck her again, cackling viciously as the noble's back was ripped open and the snakes' poison triggered horrible, painful spasms. If not for her bonds she would have fallen to the ground, but instead she was held perfectly in the path of Saffir's whip as it bit into her chest only inches from her exposed throat. Again and again the two priestesses pummeled her, until tears of pain ran down her cheeks and her robes had been reduced to nothing more than tatters soaked in her own blood. Barely coherent, twitching madly, and sobbing in pain, the humiliated noble fell to the ground, barely aware that her manacles had dissolved back into the study floor.

"You will not betray our alliance to Gwalchgwynn and our plans to attack Hen Wyneb because you want him," the Matron said, her voice cold and even. "Even a commoner such as Rhonwen knows to hold her emotions in check at such a crucial time. Other houses know that Gwalchgwynn has quietly moved troops to an unknown ally. You, of all people, should realize the implications of your tryst, daughter."

"Yes, mistress," Arwydd whispered, her breath coming in ragged gasps. As she wiped at the tears in her eyes, the opal pendant fell to the stones in front of her.

"You were right," Matron Saffir said. "There is nothing more than the most base of protection enchantments on that. But you would do well to satisfy your suspicions with more than a simple, rushed cantrip."

Arwydd lay on the cold stones for a long moment, listening as her family walked out of the study and slammed the door shut. Finally, the young priestess agonizingly drew herself up to her knees, holding the torn remnants of her robes together as she tried to force her muscles to stop twitching. Slowly, with shaking, bloodstained hands, Arwydd crept forward and reclaimed Pryderi's gift.


"Are you sure he'll come this way?"

"I'm certain," Fychan replied, sounding faintly annoyed with the question. Bradwr glanced around the narrow alley, taking stock of his surroundings once again. It was truly one of the poorest of Llyr's districts, home to the decrepit, the elderly, the free unskilled laborers, and, more importantly to the secondboy, a large number of cutthroats desperate enough to dare attacking a noble. Such dire elements were a double edged sword; although they may provide an alibi for the secondboy's murder, they could just as easily attack Fychan or even Bradwr himself at the height of battle. For the moment, however, the crumbling homes and once elegant statues and spires were silent and still, holding no immediate threat for the two conspirators. Only vaguely satisfied with his safety, Bradwr turned back to Fychan.

"You'd better be right," the Hen Wyneb said, glancing up and down the narrow street. Fychan turned back to him, an irritated look on his face.

"Your brother's most potent nondetection spells are fixed in location," the wizard stated. "That means that when he's outside your house or his laboratory at Llyfrdy-Lledreth, it's far easier to track him. And he's coming through this way, I can assure you of that. Now find a place to hide, or be ready to greet your brother when he comes down this alley."

"How much time do we have?" Bradwr asked nervously. Fychan smirked.

"Not long at all," the wizard answered, disappearing into an alcove. As he vanished into the darkness, Bradwr turned back to the direction that Fychan had indicated his brother would be traveling.

He almost jumped as he saw Maddox turn the corner, appearing in the alley just as Fychan had predicted. The elderboy's steps were hurried and he seemed nervous, a trait that only increased as Maddox spied his younger brother lurking along the edge of the street.

"Bradwr?" Maddox said, stunned to find the secondboy in such a dismal place. "What are you doing here?"

"Daere said you had gone out alone again," Bradwr lied, quickly improvising a story. "I couldn't wait for you to return to the compound. I've been searching the entire city for you!"

"There's no time to lose," Maddox said, apparently believing his brother's story for the moment. "We have to get back to the house immediately!"

"Brother, there might be plots against you," Bradwr said hastily, trying to keep his brother in the alley just a moment longer. "House Brenin-"

"House Brenin Llywd is not our enemy!" Maddox countered anxiously.

"How can that be?" Bradwr demanded. The secondboy's stomach tightened into a knot. If it was not Brenin Llywd, and no other house had seemingly taken any action against Hen Wyneb…

Maddox' eyes went wide as the elderboy looked past his brother. The wizard raised his hands to cast, but before he had mouthed even a single syllable the two brothers were plunged into silence. His eyes wide, the wizard turned to Bradwr to try somehow to warn his brother of the impending attack by House Hen Wyneb's true enemy.

Bradwr's sword flew free of its sheath. Before he had truly registered the impact his actions would have, the secondboy spun in a quick, tight circle, ripping through Maddox' robes, protective wards, and flesh all at once. The center of Fychan's spell of silence was the younger Hen Wyneb's shield, and as Maddox staggered away from his treacherous brother Bradwr kept as close as possible, forcing the two to remain in silence.

It's them! It's Evnissien! Maddox screamed through the silence. Bradwr could easily read his brother's lips, but even as he tried to point to the secondboy's ally Bradwr struck another grievous blow, ripping his brother open almost from shoulder to hip. Stumbling backward, covered in his own blood, Maddox threw his hands forward suddenly, unleashing a brilliant bolt of lightning through his brother. Bradwr was hurled backward and to the ground by the ferocious assault, his hearing quickly returning as he tumbled to the ground in a smoking heap. Behind him he could hear Fychan moaning in pain; Maddox had been savvy enough to catch both of them in the destructive bolt's path. For a long moment both Maddox and Bradwr staggered to their feet, each one severely wounded. Bradwr glanced behind him, but Fychan had collapsed to the ground, silent and still except for the smoke rolling off of him.

"You idiot," Maddox snarled, using the wall to brace himself as he stood. "What in the Abyss are you doing?"

"Your time is at an end, brother," Bradwr threatened, using his sword to help him stand. He stumbled a moment as he stood, but righted himself quickly. "It's time for me to become elderboy."
"We are on the eve of war!" Maddox exclaimed. He pointed to Fychan. "With them!"

Another bolt of lightning tore through Bradwr, hurling him back to the ground in convulsions of maddening pain. The warrior staggered back to his feet, raising his sword and shield to protect himself from any more of Maddox' assaults, but to his surprise he found his brother slumped against the wall in a smoking heap. Quickly Bradwr turned back to his ally as Fychan struggled to his feet.

"You hit me, you idiot!" the warrior exclaimed. Fychan nodded faintly.

"I know," he said. "You were in the way. But he's dead now. We have nothing more to fear from him."

Bradwr's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he sheathed his sword. Slowly his hand fell to the pair of poisoned darts on his belt just behind the hilt of his weapon. Fychan was trying to keep himself steady, but the warrior could suddenly see his lips moving…

Bradwr leapt to the side, trying to avoid his enemy's attack, but four streaks of eldritch energy followed him unerringly. Bradwr growled in pain as the magic missiles punched through his back, drawing and throwing his first dart as he dove for cover into an adjacent alcove. He could not tell if he had hit Fychan or not with his errant throw, but for a long moment the alley fell into an uneasy silence. As he waited, Bradwr scoured his belongings, quickly coming up wit a small vial of clear liquid. With a quick splash over the worst of his burns, the wounds began to mend, but the simple healing water was not nearly powerful enough to counteract the massive damage of two lightning bolts. With his still serious injuries, Bradwr could only hope that Fychan had suffered enough from Maddox' lightning bolt to retreat rather than continue the fight. Cautiously, drawing his sword once more, Bradwr edged up to the corner of the alcove and glanced into the alley.

The lightning bolt wads on the way as soon as he had peered around the edge. Bradwr somehow managed to duck back behind cover as the bolt slammed into the wall, jolting him faintly but thankfully rebounding off of the wall to slam into the other side of the alley. With only a moment to gather his wits the warrior sprinted out into the alley, just as a fireball thundered out from Fychan's outstretched hands. The explosion set Bradwr's cloak on fire and threw the Hen Wyneb to the ground, but Bradwr rolled back to his feet as he ducked into a crossing passageway and sprinted away from his enemy. Badly wounded or not, there was too much distance between the two combatants to risk a charge, not when Fychan likely had enough magic left to kill the already injured warrior. At the end of the passage Bradwr turned left quickly, racing through the heart of Llyr's poorest districts, stripping off his smoking piwafwi and winding through the hobgoblin district, until he finally raced up one last flight of stone steps into the Central Markets.

Bradwr finally stopped, leaning against a stall set near the steps that had led him up from the poor districts. Fychan was nowhere to be seen behind him; the wizard may have been able to cast spells, but he had been too badly wounded to attempt a chase. Slowly, the new elderboy of Hen Wyneb stood straight, a smile growing on his face. He had finally gotten rid of his arrogant older brother, and he had the perfect alibi. He had attained the position he had desired from the time he was old enough to understand his station.

Fychan, the treacherous sorcerer who had killed his brother, would be finished soon enough.