A/N—Please read and review. Thank you. I hope you enjoy.
Port Legann, Tortall
Late Spring, 457 H.E.
"Hey Meathead, are you coming or not?" Domitan, formally of Masbolle, stuck his head through the door and called to his cousin. The infirmary that his uncle ran was empty except for a young man sitting on a bed reading. They both had handsome faces with light brown hair that flopped down across their foreheads. Dom's eyes were a laughing light blue, Neal's a sparkling green.
"I think I'll stay here." Neal answered in an uninterested drawl.
"And read?" Dom said, his tone unbelieving. "You'd rather sit here by yourself and read?"
"Of course."
Dom came all the way into the room. He grabbed the book from Neal's hands, tossing it onto a bed on the other side of the room. Neal jumped up and lunged for it but Dom easily held him back.
"You're coming with us. We're going to get you drunk and you are going to socialize with all the pretty girls and not talk about books."
"It sounds great." Neal said, resigned to his fate.
Dom draped his arm across Neal's shoulder. "It will be. See, the way I see it, it's about time you settled down and took a wife." He steered Neal out of the infirmary and down the street.
"Married?"
"Well, we aren't nobles any more. Most commoners marry by the time they're fifteen, sixteen, maybe seventeen."
"I'd only been a commoner for two years when I turned sixteen. What's your excuse for still being a bachelor?"
"It's more fun." Dom said with a laugh. "And I'm still holding out for us recreating the Own."
"Yeah, right after we resurrect King Jonathan." Neal replied sarcastically.
"You're in a very cynical mood today, Neal. Is there any particular reason?"
"Not anything new."
"You're worried about the Gennature's treatment of healers." Dom said, his tone subdued a bit. Neal shrugged. "I take it the news Uncle brought back from Corus wasn't good."
"You know there aren't any healers in Corus except for at the palace and two carefully monitored public houses?" Neal replied bitterly.
"But that's just Corus, Neal. The Gennature king isn't going to do that throughout Tortall. He can't, so stop worrying. We're supposed to be celebrating."
"Celebrating what?"
"I don't know. We'll have to figure that out." While they'd been talking they'd been walking across Port Legann and now they were deep in the city outside a busy looking tavern called Rider's Own. The tavern was mostly occupied by young men but a few young women mingled within them. Dom pushed his way in, dragging Neal behind him. He found someone he recognized, a dark skinned, dark eyed Bazhir dressed in worn but sturdy clothes, and made his way towards him.
"Dom!" The Bazhir greeted. "I haven't seen you around here in a few days."
"The infirmary has been busy, Qasim. Is the Commander around?"
"She's with a class." Qasim answered quietly.
"Thanks Qasim. Could you find Neal something to celebrate?"
"Sure."
Dom left them together and made his way to a small door in the back. The door opened into a courtyard, walled in by buildings on two sides and a tall wall of reddish sandstone on the other two. The courtyard floor was packed dirt currently occupied by a dozen young men and women. A short, dark-haired woman in her forties was instructing the group in combat. Dom leaned against the wall of the Tavern and watched as they worked. There were no windows looking out on the courtyard and only the door from the tavern. It was mid afternoon so the sun lit the courtyard over the wall and buildings, stretching the shadows of the fighters. The woman set her class to sparing when she noticed Dom and walked over to him.
"I was wondering when you'd stop by, Sergeant Dom." The woman said in friendly greeting.
"I'd heard you got back but couldn't get away. Uncle has been keeping us all busy."
"What could your Uncle need of an unprincipled whelp like you in an infirmary?" She replied in a teasing way.
Dom smiled. "He finds things for me to do even though I can't heal. He extended an invitation to dinner if you're free."
"I'd love to. Care to join our practice?"
"I need to talk to you first, Buri." Dom's tone made her drop her smile and look at him sharply. "It's about Queen Thayet and Gareth of Naxen." Buri nodded consent and led the way back inside, leaving the fighters to themselves.
They sat down at an empty table where Qasim and Neal joined them. The noise from the crowd would keep them from being overheard but they leaned close to each other to talk anyway.
"Uncle just got back form a long trip to Corus. He was there most of the spring." Dom started. "While he was gone a man stopped by the infirmary looking for him. This man, who has been staying with us, is an associate of Gareth of Naxen." Qasim caught his breath.
"Have either of you ever heard of 'the Finder' or 'Cythera's Home'?" Neal asked into the silence that followed. Both Buri and Qasim nodded. Neal smiled. "He's Gareth. Cythera's Home is the inn he runs as a base of operations for finding people of all classes."
"The Queen asked him to track down Uncle and the man that came to us was one of his agents."
"We talked with him a lot about who else he's found and who else he's looking for."
"Thayet is looking for me." Buri broke in. Dom nodded. "Don't tell the agent I'm here."
"She'll be wanting to hear from you." Neal argued.
"And so I shall go to Corus myself. It's about time anyway." Stunned silence followed her remark. "Qasim, Dom, you'll take care of things here while I'm away."
"We always do." Qasim replied but Dom shook his head.
"I'm coming with you." He said forcefully. "I've got some inquiries of my own I'd like to make."
"You know I travel alone, Dom."
Dom grinned. "Then I'll meet you there."
"I'm going too." Neal interrupted.
"Neal, I don't think—" Dom and Qasim said together.
"I promise I won't heal anyone while I'm there." Neal cut them off and before Dom could argue further Buri spoke.
"Alright, you may," she eyed Qasim, who shook his head rather reluctantly, "both come."