Sonnet Lacewing: You'll see how its done… You could probably work it out anyway from what we've said!

Wildmage: That would be spoiling things if I gave that away…

Dolphindreamer: Thank you for pointing that out, that's really helpful. I hadn't noticed it because obviously I knew who was speaking. I've just written another similar scene and I have done what you suggested. Constructive criticism like that is really useful. Thank you!

Daine's Daughter: You're just going to have to wait! Ner ner!

Jessica: I used the term "gagging spell" in Interlude, as it seemed to fit. I couldn't think of a better way to put it. Any suggestions gratefully received!

Celuna Cirrus: Thank you!

Goldeneyedwildmage: Thank you. I hope the white jacket people have been treating you well!

Narm's Briton: I didn't think it was that hot… it hinted, but didn't describe.

Numair's Lover: When you first get with someone who's special to you, you don't sleep!

Imakeladrygirl: Here's the update!

A/N: This was the chapter that thoroughly depressed me to write. It was like pulling teeth! I think the elf had gone on strike!

Disclaimer: Please refer to a previous chapter's disclaimer. It still stands.

Chapter 13 – Reunions

Corus was teeming with people; the busy streets filled with merchants and traders, all trying to sell their wares and people of all ages and sizes and of all origins fighting for bargains. Daine could see bright colours covering the markets and highlighting the displays in shops. She heard different accents and languages pouring in her ears as she strolled through the streets of the capital. She saw a trader rowing with a young boy over the price of a wooden table, heated words being thrown about its quality and the level of its price. A large woman with several bags of goods from the food markets barged passed Daine, almost knocking her over. Daine caught sight of Numair's indignant look, obviously about to shout the woman with a lecture of manners causing Daine to laugh.

"Leave her," she told him, taking his hand. "It's market day and busy. If she was more aware of her size she wouldn't have moved passed me like that!"

"If she was more aware of her size then she wouldn't have bought all those pastries and sweets!" Numair mumbled, sending a glare in the direction that the woman had gone. He saw the street entertainers, jugglers, magicians and musicians dotted around the scene that they were wandering though, noting how they added to the almost festival-like atmosphere.

Daine's attention was caught once more by the people she saw, going about their business. A few looks came in their direction, for both she and Numair were well known in Tortall, particularly in Corus. A few ladies in fine clothes had smiled flirtatiously at Numair, sending looks of dislike at Daine as she had his arm around her or her hand in his. She simply smiled at them, totally unperturbed by the meaning in their looks, knowing that he was well and truly hers.

Aside from the reason behind their trip, Daine enjoyed the experience. It wasn't often that she came into Corus, usually just to buy Midwinter gifts, or if there was something in particular that she needed. Now they browsed, Numair taking her into some different and interesting shops that she would not have normally ventures into. She found a few items of clothing that she took a fancy to, and purchased them with some of the money she had saved up. Numair had wanted to buy them for her, but her pride and obstinacy had won through and she had refused, demanding that he spent his money on himself; although he did slip back into one or two shops while Daine was trying on.

They wandered into the seedier area of town, a place that Daine had never really ventured into before. The streets were somehow darker and the buildings closer together, leaving little room for light. The people around them appeared either slightly preoccupied or suspicious as they noticed them. Daine was intrigued by this place, noticing silent exchanges between people, quick glances assessing potential hazards or allies. Numair knew the place relatively well, having spent some time there when he first came to Corus with no money and a need to stay unknown. He took Daine into a magic shop, one with no sign above it; simply a symbol that she imagined was an old, arcane emblem representing what the shop sold. He nodded briefly to the shop owner and then escorted Daine to a corner of the large, dusty room.

"This is where I used to come a lot when I first got here," he told her a quiet voice. "From here it is easy to sense any mages without it being picked up on. This shop has always been a safe haven for mages. There's a shrouding spell that's been on it for two hundred years or so, that protects anyone who's inside. I slept here for the first few weeks when I came to Corus." Daine noticed that he looked slightly melancholic as he spoke, remembering times that had not been easy.

Numair sat still for a moment, his eyes closed as if he was meditating. Daine gave him space, knowing that he was searching for the mage who was causing such concern. A few minutes later, his eyes opened and he shook his head at her.

"He's shrouding himself," he told her, a strange smile crossing his lips. "I'm positive that he knows either me or Harailt, and is aware that we would recognise him if we sensed him."

"But wouldn't you have recognised the magic that was used to contaminate the water?" Daine asked.

Numair shook his head. "Not if he's managed to disguise it. I need to get back to the palace and see if I can find out what's happened to certain people I knew of in Carthak," he stood, up, offering his hand to help up Daine. She took it smiling, allowing him to pull her into his arms. He kissed her gently on the top of her curls, although Daine could tell that his thoughts were elsewhere and they began to make their way back to the palace, although Numair had to stop and look at a new collection of books that were being arranged on the shelves.

George sat in the rooms he and Alanna used when they were at the palace. He was hunched up on their bed, his head resting against the wooded headboard, wondering a multitude of thoughts. He longed to have his wife back with him. He had known since the beginning of their relationship that there would be weeks, months even, when they would be separated, but he had known that it would be worth it for the time that they did have together. He wanted her now, to be able to discuss what had happened in Corus and the death of a man he had liked and respected since he was a boy. He was also anxious to check that she was in one piece and unharmed. He knew Alanna could more than look after herself, but she was still his wife and lover; he still worried about her, knowing that there was always the possibility that one day she wouldn't come home at all.

George made himself move of the bed and put the negative thoughts from his mind. He had been ordered by Jonathan to lie low and stay well out of the way of Karrum Makheen and his growing following, simply staying in touch with the band of spies that he had working for him in Corus. He looked out of the window, feeling relatively useless and desperate for something to keep him occupied. He decided to leave the palace and take an innocent journey to the Dancing Dove and catch up with any old acquaintances and sample some of the inn's wares. It was still only just before noon, and he doubted that any of Makheen's men would attempt anything in broad daylight and well out in the open. He wanted the company and he wouldn't be disobeying Jonathan's instructions, he wasn't grounded to the palace after all.

It took George barely any time at all to get to the Dancing Dove, welcoming the familiar smells of ale and not always honest hard work. The people there did not know of his career now, thinking that he was more a kept man, being married to the Lioness. He had been happy with them thinking this; it prevented any threat of discovery of the spies who worked for him in Corus, of whom some were regulars at the inn. Indeed, one of them had been an employee of his when George had been king of the rogue. He settled into a chair with a frayed cushion and ordered a jar of the ale he enjoyed. A tall man with short, fair approached him. George smiled in recognition as he sat with him at the table.

"I've not seen you in here or awhile," the man said, taking a swig of his drink.

George shook his head. "I didn't expect to see you in here either," he admitted, placing his glass down heavily on the table. "How's life been treating you?"

"Fairly well. I'm all quiet on the work-front at the moment, its been worryingly quiet, until now, with our new guest," the man's eyebrows raised questioningly.

George mirrored his expression, not quite believing his luck at bumping into this man at this point in time. Sometimes the gods did smile upon him. "So, what do you know?" he said quietly, making sure that his words were inaudible to anyone but his intended audience.

The man smiled. "Probably as much as you, if not less. Is it safe to talk here?" he inquired.

George looked around him, taking in the faces in the room. He nodded, "I'd say so. I've known most of these people for years I'd rather not count, and they wouldn't suspect that we might be talking about anything important anyhow."

The man smiled, bowing his head slightly. "I overheard a conversation in a run down shop where they sell only things that they shouldn't really be selling."

"Which one might that be then?" George inquired.

"Zesper's, at least I think it still goes by that name. There's no sign on the front. There were two men and a woman in there, of no distinguished appearance. I pretended to be a drunk, quite fitting for that place, and feigned sleep, sitting close enough to hear what they were saying. Makheen is staying in Low Wood. He has distant family there who don't ask too many questions, being quite corrupt themselves, they mentioned his family, but only referred to him by that ridiculous name. He also has a second or third cousin in prison in Corus – that much was discussed in the shop. They were excited about his latest plan, although I'm not certain what it was to do with, they weren't specific, just that it would show the king that they were serious about targeting him," the man looked at George, draining his glass.

"Any idea what his real name may be? We're of the notion that Karrum Makheen is a pseudonym," George asked.

The man shook his head. "I've enquired into it, but I can find no record connecting him to the family in Low Wood, it is a distant connection I believe, and he is only ever referred to as Makheen. Do you have any ideas?"

"I know no more than you do, Sammin," he said, standing up. "Can I buy you a drink, and then I can ask you some questions?" The man nodded. George returned with two more large glasses of ale.

"Who are you working for now?" George asked, passing Sammin his drink.

"Letquin in Carthak," Sammin answered, taking a drink. "I organise things over here in a similar role to you."

"Is Kaddar worried about what has happened here?" George inquired, briefly flicking his eyes around the room to see if anyone was taking an interest in them. No one was; the inn was fairly quiet with it being early on in the day, most of its patrons would still be asleep.

Sammin shrugged. "I imagine he would be. I don't agree that this has much to do with the king, or the way things are ran over here. I think whoever this mage may be wants some control or wealth, or he's bitter about something that's happened previously. Have you considered he may have a grudge against someone in court?"

George shook his head. "We're with the power theory at the moment, although I don't think that the idea of a grievance has been discussed yet. What are your plans within this?"

"Purely to keep an eye on things. There's no threat as of yet to Carthak and Kaddar, but if things were to go badly over here then that may be a possibility. If I come across any information I'll let you know. We're hardly enemies anymore, not that we ever were," Sammin smiled slightly. George returned the expression. He had known Sammin since before he had met Alanna. Sammin had annoyed a rather heartless merchant while working in his house as a spy. George had provided a safe place for him to stay in exchange for useful information from time to time. Gradually, Sammin had worked his way up to becoming one of the assistant spymasters in Carthak, now under Kaddar's new regime. George had no need to be wary of him; Sammin had proved he was trustworthy on many occasions, although George knew the game too well to give away everything or bare his soul on the subject.

George bowed his head briefly as Sammin stood up, slugging the rest of his drink. He shook his friend's hand, his eyes giving nothing away in case anyone was watching their exchange. "I'll see you soon," he said. Sammin nodded, picking up the bag he carried and exiting the smoky room.

George remained in the Dancing Dove for a while longer, his brain ticking over what he had learnt from Sammin. The idea of a grudge hadn't been considered and George thought it unlikely, although it did need some thought giving to it as it was another avenue to explore. He watched the people filtering through the inn, some of the faces he recognised, and engaged in lively banter with them, other were new, strangers to what seemed like a previous existence some days, of when he ran the rogue. His glum mood hadn't really lifted; he applied a happy looking face as he usually did, but he longed for his wife to return. He headed back to the palace, collecting his horse form the stables about the back of the inn, hoping that Alanna might be back that evening.

Numair spent the afternoon researching and attempting to make contact with people he had known from his earlier days in Carthak who would know of the whereabouts of some of his more distasteful acquaintances. He could think of a few people who would have the skill and motivation to do such things as Karrum Makheen, but no name particularly stood out. He sat back in his chair and sighed deeply, looking out of the window into the distance. He saw Daine walking towards the stables and debated going out to join her. Onua was due back tomorrow and she was busy making sure that everything was in order for her return. He had given in now to the notion that until more was somehow revealed about Makheen, either through his magic or through information discovered about him, he wouldn't be able to decipher anything else about him until then. Throwing a robe around him, he opted to go and see his lover. As he gazed at her from the window he spotted a horse and rider that he recognised. Alanna had returned.

The Lioness dismounted and hugged the young woman who stood near the stables, kissing her briefly on the cheek.

"You look well," she told her, pulling what little baggage she had from her mount. "How's Numair?"

Daine smiled, now thankfully passed blushing whenever his name was mentioned. "He was racking his brains trying to think of who this mage could be. I haven't seen him for a fair few hours, actually, so he may have joined Harailt," Daine informed the Lioness.

Alanna smiled, "How's Numair?" she repeated, emphasizing her words so Daine could not misread her meaning.

"He's good, well, better than good…" Daine said, thinking of her mage. "How was your journey back?"

"It was what you'd expect. A spidren attack, problems with some rogue Scanran soldiers, enough action to keep us busy. I rode through the night and left the others to amuse themselves," Alanna paused briefly, looking towards the palace. "Would you have any idea where George is?"

Daine shook her head. "He returned from Corus a little while ago, but I'm not sure where he went after leaving his horse here."

"Thank you, I'll find him. And we'll catch up later," Alanna sent Daine a warm grin and sped off to find her husband.

George was back in the suite of rooms that they shared at the palace. Alanna saw him sat on one of the chairs in the lounge area, his face buried in a book about the history of Tortall. She watched him for a minute or too, her chest hurting with the amount of love she felt for him. She briefly remembered the day he came to her while she was sat weaving in her tent, making him a gift for Midwinter. Then she had told him that she wanted to be his, and she had stayed being his since then with never a single regret. He became aware of eyes focused on him and looked towards who they belonged to. Immediately, he got out of his chair and lunged towards her, sweeping her up into his arms. The passion between them had never ceased, even with all their years of marriage behind them; they didn't see enough of each other to take one another for granted. There was silence as George greeted her without words, his lips doing another kind of talking. Alanna felt her body respond to his touch, every slight movement against her amplified after too long apart. He led her into their bedchamber and onto the bed, his fingers busily undoing her attire.

"I've missed ye, lass," he muttered, recovering familiar territory with his fingers.

Daine saw Alanna and George briefly as they made their way to the kitchens in search of food just after sunset. Their arms were wrapped around each other, perfect contentment etched upon both of their faces. They fitted together easily, complimenting each other with their differences and similarities. Daine sighed, wondering, but half knowing, if she and Numair would be as enduring as them in years to come. She saw the tall, dark mage walking towards her, a distant look glazing across his face that broke into a smile as he spotted her. She felt her heart pound in her chest, confirming her knowledge and her choice, she had chosen well.

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