Chapter 47

When Zofia came back to herself, it wasn't like she stood with a small wooden box in her hands. No, the magic somehow didn't work that way. She had to seek it, like she had done with the Lioness' daughter, following the small golden thread that seemed attached to where her heart was located and to where it ended.

Zofia's eyes followed the thread and it pierced the closed door that lead to Lord Grayer's bedchamber and entered the other side, or so Zofia guessed and hoped for. It felt like it took her forever to be on her feet again, after laying a few seconds on the hard cold floor.

Standing, Zofia realized that she during the blackout had hit her head on the floor pretty badly. Feeling with careful fingers, she felt how a small bump was beginning to swell. She grinched, feeling pain shooting through her head and grabbed hold of the desk as the room around her swirled.

When it finally stopped, Zofia was convinced that she had a minor concussion. She would have to see a healer about it, but not now. She still had to follow the golden thread and find proof of Lord Grayer's treachery.

Walking over to the door, hoping that it wasn't locked, Zofia turned the handle gently to the right. Something inside the door clicked, and Zofia could push it open. She frowned slightly. Either Lord Grayer was an optimistic fool, thinking that he was safe and no one would ever think about searching through his things and had left the door unlocked or the magic she had wielded was making a larger impact on things in the room then she had expected.

Walking in what was a very large bedchamber, Zofia immediately knew that her presence in the room would be discovered once Lord Grayer came back. The small thread that was attached to her, had split into thousands of smaller ones, making it the task harder for Zofia. The magic around her glimpsed in an abundance of golden colors, landing on each single item in the chamber. Looking around, it was obvious for Zofia that Lord Grayer did most of his treachery in here.

No longer unsure about his role, Zofia moved around the room, trying the best to see if there was a small difference in the colors that could indicate where Lord Grayer was hiding his most recent message to Sun Tzu or any other accomplice. She already knew what she was looking for; a small wooden box. She took her time to look at every single thing; from the large bed, to the desk that stood near the window to...Zofia's eyes stopped.

There! One of the smaller golden threads was a wee thicker than the rest and it twisted oddly. Zofia grabbed hold of it with two fingers and slowly began to follow it. She cursed under her breath, when she reached a point where the thread had been tangled with other threads. It was a time consuming task to untangle it, but once it was done, she suddenly found herself standing in front of a large cabinet made of massive oak.

This, Zofia thought, should be locked. If not, then Lord Grayer was really sure of himself. Grabbing the brass handle, she pulled. Nothing. Looking closer she found a small keyhole. Easy, Zofia thought, and reached for her lock picks. She began to count, "One moon, two moons, three…" Click. It was open. Again the magic might have an influence, but Zofia wasn't sure. The only thing she wanted, was to find a small box.

She hadn't really thought about what the cabinet might contain, so opening it without being prepared, Zofia was unexpectedly hit with a massive cloud of dust. Zofia swore as she breathed in the dust and began to cough. After coughing for a few seconds, she reached up, and removed most of the dust that not only covered her from top to toe, but threatened to make her blind as well.

Once she had her sight again, Zofia looked down herself and a large amount of cursing and swearing filled the air. Where she stood the floor was no longer dark, but a fine layer of dust lay sprinkled in a neat circle around her.

Lifting her right foot, Zofia saw a fine footprint. She cursed again. The spell was something everybody with a bit of magic inside themselves could make. It was a classic trap and she had just stumbled into it, like an incompetent fool. Zofia glanced around, wondering if she could make the damage good somehow. She couldn't do anything about how she looked herself, as the dust was meant to be clued to a person like burdocks clinging to an animal's coat.

Zofia looked around the room. She knew one spell that might clean up the mess she was standing in, but she wasn't sure that it would clean up the dust sufficiently. As her eyes landed on the widow, Zofia knew that it was her only option. The sun was hanging dangerously low in the sky.

Very gingerly she stepped out of the dust-circle and over to the carpet that had been placed underneath the bed. Zofia was confident that she could hide the dust underneath, because how many people would care to look there as one of the first things? Before she lifted the carpet, Zofia roamed around one of her three bags. This contained small cloth-covered ballsof any herb she might possibly need in case of an emergency and it was kind of a necessity now.

Quickly she found a small greenish ball that contained dried needle-like leaves from a Rosemary plant. Zofia had worked often enough with this herb to know what it could do. Other than being used to bring good dreams to children, it was used to keep a spouse faithful in a marriage and the home the couple lived in, peaceful, it was also used for its cleansing abilities on newly swept floors.

If someone wanted to be thorough the person would sprinkle the leaves on the floor, open a window and wait for the effect to take place. Here Zofia couldn't open a window, as it would look suspicious if a cloud of dust was swiftly blown out into the air and perhaps draw unwanted attention to Lord Grayer's rooms.

Standing ready to lift the carpet, Zofia threw the small ball down to the floor where imprint of her feet was visible. As expected, the dust lifted itself not wanting to be near the leaves and flew around in the room looking for an exit. When it found none, it turned its attention to the small opening between the floor and the door, but Zofia gave a short whistle and lifted up the edge of the carpet.

For a short second, Zofia feared that the dust wouldn't listen to her. Which would be correct, because dust didn't have any ears or even an awareness, but for a few seconds it lingered before the door and then when Zofia's hope was beginning to fade, the dust turn around and very quickly disappeared underneath the carpet.

Zofia sighed with relief and patted the small bulge in the carpet as if it had been a well-trained dog. With the cleaning done, she walked over to the large cabinet and pulled the door open. She had expected the cabinet to be filled with anything but books. Frowning Zofia picked up one and it almost fell to pieces between her fingers. Quickly she placed it back where it had belonged.

Allowing her eyes to glide over title after title, she instantly realized that these wasn't Tortallan books, but had the unmistakable signs that could be none other than the Yamani alphabet. For a few seconds she allowed her thought to consider the fact that not only was Lord Grayer a traitor, but he was also read and write Yamani. This knowledge itself presented a whole new area of concerns.

During the inspection of the books, Zofia's eyes finally found what she had been looking for. A small wooden box was placed at the bottom of the cabinet. Quickly she took in and moved over to the desk that stood near the window.

Producing a small a quartz crystal from one of her bags, she asked it very politely if it could give her some light. Knowing that she stood in a room that brimmed with magic, Zofia had to be careful. For a few seconds she waited as the crystal sparked a few times, until it lit up with such an intense light that Zofia had to shield her eyes.

"Maybe you could turn it down a notch," she asked, speaking out loud. The crystal seemed to consider the question, not at all eager to oblige. Zofia ended up glaring daggers at the crystal, ignoring the sharp light. If the crystal had been a normal being, it would have sighed loudly, making sure that Zofia knew that she was indeed asking too much of it, but they had worked together for nearly fifteen years and time after time Zofia had shown the crystal that she trusted it to help her.

As an answer to her request, the crystal slowly turned its light down until it somehow understood that its light was perfect.

Zofia smiled. "Thank you," she said and opened the small box.

Inside lay a well-made dagger. The hilt was constructed by heavy sections of solid gold where small ornaments of rubies and green opals formed floral patterns. The blade had been forged of watered steel, that gave the impression that watery waves had entered the hard mineral. The design was exclusive and very expensive, and Zofia doubted that Lord Grayer could ever afford something so costly as the dagger she was looking at now. Zofia suddenly shuddered as she realized something. The small dagger could easily be passed on, from one person to another, without anyone taking notice, but it was obvious that the dagger was some kind of payment for something.

Gingerly she picked it up from the box and was careful not to touch the blade. One single touch of a fingertip would leave an oiled imprint and it would be hard to remove it again. Weighing it in her right hand, she found that the balance of the dagger was a little off.

Normally a dagger like this would be equally heavy in both ends, but here the hilt felt almost hollow. Looking around Zofia found a small handkerchief and placed it over her left index finger, then she placed the dagger to find its gravity. Once she released the dagger with her other hand, the tip of the dagger dropped, and Zofia quickly grabbed the hilt.

Zofia knew daggers and was very choosy when it came to the small weapon. She was so picky about her own daggers, that when she had decided to order new ones, she had spent weeks alongside the smith making sure that the daggers was balancing perfectly. She wanted her own daggers to act as throwing knives as well, not wanting to end up with an unbalancing knife would be unpredictable when it was thrown at a target.

She began to inspect the dagger closer. With the handkerchief in one hand and her right hand on the hilt she pulled. With a small pop, the handle came loose from the blade and a small rolled parchment dropped down on the desk.

Lying the now separated dagger on the surface of the desk, Zofia picked up the parchment and turned it around. The search had taken its time, but it had been worth the wait. She quickly opened the parchment and stared. Again she was met with yet another proof of Lord Grayer's treachery. The parchment held small Yamani letters. Zofia couldn't read what it said, but they had other at the court that could.

A bird outside the window caught Zofia's attention. Time was running out. Carefully not to disturb anything, she scanned the desk for any unused parchment she could use to duplicate the Yamani letters. It was nearly dark now. "More light," Zofia whispered as she moved her crystal closer to the parchment. The crystal obeyed and gave Zofia enough light so she could find something she could write on.

Zofia smiled. She could always count on the crystal to help. It was one of the last things from her time at her tribe, the last thing her family gave her, before she was shunned for good from the tribe to live alone.

Grabbing a blank parchment, she quickly dipped the quill in the small ink pot. She was about to copy the fifth symbol, when something struck the glass in the window in front of the desk. First, she ignored it, but couldn't when a second stone, larger than the first hit the window again.

Leaning forth, Zofia searched the ground underneath. Nothing. She was about to pull back, when light from a small torch light up and she saw a face she recognized. Archie! Lenore's brother-in-law whispered something. Zofia's heart almost stopped. Lord Grayer is coming back!

Reading lips wasn't something George Cooper had taught her. Living two miles from the tribe she had found it necessary to sneak in and try to hear what was happening in her tribe. A few times she had been thrown out and beaten, but quickly she had learned to only be near and yet get the information about the tribe she wanted.

Zofia cursed loudly as she felt adrenaline rush through her body, then her logic took over. How did Archie knew that Zofia was here, standing in Lord Grayer's private study? She shook her head, pushing back her concerns. There was no time to stand and ponder that. She had to hurry.

Looking down, Zofia estimated that there were at least ten letters left on the small note. Her heart sank discouraging. Lord Grayer was going to find her and if he did, he would kill her instantly.

Irritation and a feeling that everything had been one big waste of time, was beginning to exhaust him. Yes, he had achieved two important things today; he had gotten that wench out of the palace while simultaneously framing her for the assassination of Prince Roald – which had been rather genius, because he had wanted to achieve that for months. It had been a constant wait, with endlessly manipulation, not only here in the Tortallan court, but in the court of Galla as well. No one suspected that he, partly, was behind all of this, well – not only him, but also Sun Tzu and those he had hired to keep quiet. King Jonathan and his pathetic collection of subjects didn't have a clue that he, a high ranking noble, was not who he was supposed to be.

Mardell Grayer considered himself to be rare man with a most strategically persona. No one could see, that the things he was doing, required relentless intellectualism mixed with the skills to manipulate his surroundings with chess-like maneuvering. People like him, was imaginative yet decisive, ambitious yet private, amazingly curious and with a natural thirst for knowledge.

In his youth, it had proven difficult to find like-minded individuals, who had been able to keep up with him. It had therefore brought him great relief finding an equal in Sun Tzu. The Yamani General had been the first to show him that he understood Mardell Grayer's immense interest in books and knew how proud he felt. It was with Sun Tzu that he showed how confident he was in his mastery of any chosen subjects and it had been through Sun Tzu, that he had been encouraged to design and execute brilliant plans rather than share opinions on uninteresting things like other men in his youth had done.

For outsiders, who had given themselves time to observe him, it would seem that Mardell Grayer lived a spectacular life with contradictions that strangely made perfect sense if they knew him. He could be viewed as a starry-eyed idealist and yet be the bitterest of cynics. The reason for this, was that he believed, that with effort, intelligence and consideration, nothing was impossible. The way he viewed other, was a whole different matter. He believed that other people was too lazy, too short-sighted or too self-serving to achieve fantastic results.

It had been Mardell Grayer's self-confidence and his insightful observations blended with original ideas that included a formidable logic mixed with willpower that had gotten him the position he now possessed. Through him, the King's Army had been reconstructed after three years of almost turmoil after King Jonathan's coronation.

He had dedicated everything to maintain his position through his sense of perfectionism and morality, and had swiftly discarded potential replacements, who had shown a talent to do what he did. He was living a hard life, where white lies and manipulation contradicted his own craving for the truth.

As for his love life, there had never been a woman who could match him in similar temperament or interest. He had, occasionally, found someone attractive, but had never initiated anything romantically. Anyway, any potential relationship would keep him from always assessing new tactics, strategies and be aware of contingency plans through constantly outmaneuvering enemies in order to maintain control. No, he would, under no circumstances fall in love as it only lead to downfall. He loved his precious freedom too much.

While he walked up the many stairs Mardell Grayer thought of Duke Gareth of Naxen. The man was too much respected and liked by others, which Lord Grayer was tired off. It was now time put an end to that. Mardell had already crafted the orders that would lead to Duke Gareth's death, but he had yet to hand over the order.

He smiled to himself, as his mind imagined the mess and chaos it would leave the Tortallan court in, if both he and Duke Gareth were gone. No one other than Lord Grayer and of course his second in command, General Hatfield, knew about the massive structure of the army.

Mardell had been clever enough to duplicate the original documents, that held all information about any logistic concerning the army, with fake ones. The duplicated documents only contained a fraction of everything and it would take King Jonathan years to go through everything, and to get the army prepared for the impending war that was going to happen.

It was thoughts like that, that filled his mind as he reached for his keys while his ears sparsely registered sound of activity further down the corridor. Unlocking the door, he was about to open it, when he heard running steps of boots coming over the floor behind him.

Zofia had hurriedly copied the last ten letters, stuffed the original parchment down into its hiding place and placed the dagger where she had found it in the cabinet.

She had closed the door to the private bedchamber, locked it again and was in the process of closing the door to Lord Grayer's private study when she heard a key being placed in the door that lead into the workroom she now stood in.

Zofia realized with horror that she was going to be discovered. She had used up her the time – the Commander was coming back from the meeting with the king and his Prime Minister, Duke Gareth the Younger of Naxen. And to make the circumstances more terrible, Zofia knew that the oil she had used no longer worked. She was as visible as the moon that hung slightly above the horizon.

Zofia held her breath. Scanning the chamber, trying the best she could to slow her racing heartbeat, Zofia knew that she didn't have time to hide. The only thing she could do was to hide close to the wall, standing on one of the many chests, hoping that the door once it was opened would hide her presence.

"Lord Grayer...I mean...Sir!"

Grayer sighed low and pulled the door close again. Turning around he stood face to face to a man with short blond hair and a worried face, along with woeful and watchful amber eyes. He recognized the man as one of the soldiers under General Hatfield's command and one that lived further down the corridor along with a man called Archie, though Mardell was unsure of this man's name. It wasn't uncommon to not know everyone, as he had nearly seven hundred soldiers under his command and Hatfield nearly a third of that.

The man saluted and kept standing such, until Mardell gave him permission to relax. "As you were," Mardell said, and the man in front of him did as he were told. There were a few seconds of utter silence, while the two men looked at each other – at last Mardell lost his patience. "Your name, soldier."

The man looked unsure for a moment, but he quickly gained his posture. "Hubert, My Lord Grayer – Hubert Bradbury – from the town Woolhope."

Mardell didn't nod. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to go to bed and sleep. "And?"

Again the man or Hubert looked insecure. "I...I mean...there...someone have broken into the rooms I share with Soldier Archie and...well, you must see it for yourself."

Lord Grayer kept standing as Hubert walked away from him. Glancing back to the door that lead into his chambers, he sighed low, and followed Hubert down the corridor. Soon enough he stood in front of an open door and was looking into a room that was utterly ransacked.

The one table two soldiers was allowed to have, was overturned and lay with its four table legs pointing directly up into the air. The two mattresses that was supposed to be laying on beds that stood facing each other was torn so much that straw lay everywhere, mingled with feathers from the head pads. Even the blankets had been torn and lay around in large strips.

Hubert moved inside and tried the best he could to pick up everything, but ended up dropping it again with a resigned sigh. "Sir. I don't know what happened. Archie and I left it in perfectly condition this morning, but when I came back it was...like this." He gestured with his hands to the mess.

"Is anything taken?" Lord Grayer asked, walking over the threshold, only to have to push something away with his foot so he had room to stand properly.

Zofia carefully opened the unlocked door and began to open it gently. She was afraid that the hinges in the door would make some sort of sharp sound, but none came. The very instant she glanced outside, she saw Lord Grayer's frame take a step into a room further down the corridor.

Now was the perfect opportunity to escape. Closing the behind her, she hurried along the corridor and stopped to listen to Lord Grayer's voice asking a question and another man's answering it. When Lord Grayer's seemed extremely occupied with something she opened the door that lead to the outside staircase and slipped down.

The moment she reached the ground a hand was suddenly pressed against her mouth and she was being pulled back into the shadows. Zofia was quick. Years of being ready for anything had taught her to release the two knives that had been hidden at her wrist. She turned around while pushing the hand, that had prevented her from screaming, up and around so a bone cracking sound interrupted the silence in the air. Now she had the freedom to place her knife underneath her attacker's chin, which she did quickly, only to withdraw it again.

"Archie!" She hissed and looked at the man, who had propped his other undamaged hand inside his mouth so he didn't scream. "What in the Goddess' name are you doing," she continued, lowering her voice.

Archie pulled his undamaged hand out of his mouth. Tears was running down his cheek.

Zofia took pity of him, and roamed around one of her bags. Finding what she needed, she without further ado stuffed something inside his mouth. "Chew!" She ordered and waited for the man to do so.

Archie almost spat the thing out, but Zofia cleared her throat, so he began to chew the strong Mint she had stuffed into his mouth. After a few seconds, Archie looked relieved as the pain subsided. Zofia didn't know why it was that Mint could help ease pain, it just did so she always had a small portion in one of her bags.

Archie and Zofia looked at each other, and opened their mouth simuntantly. Archie shook his head, allowing Zofia to speak first and when she did, it came out as a hiss.

"Are you completely mad?" She asked, "Fool I could have killed you. You are lucky that I only broke your hand."

Archie pressed his injured hand to his chest, as his hissed back. "Well, someone had to look out for you. What you just did was dangerous and very regless!"

Zofia's eyebrows rose. "Regless? I saw you beginning the fight!" She took out the small crystal and raised it up to where she thought Archie's might be. "Light," she ordered and the crystal lit up.

Zofia gasped. Not only was Archie's hand now broken, but his nose was clearly broken too and clotted blood was still visible on his clothes. He had taken a rough beating and received several blue-green marks on one side of his face. "Nice," Zofia commentated dryly.

"You don't look any better yourself," Archie replied, looking Zofia up and down while he tried to smile. "I never knew that dust would suit you that much," he continued, but flinched as his lower lips split in half.

Zofia quickly pulled the handkerchief she accidently had stolen from Lord Grayer's bedchamber. "Here," she said and Archie took it with something that looked like gratitude.

"Thank you," Archie replied, only to grimace again.

"Now," Zofia said, "would you please explain to me why you are meddling in my business?"

The first answer from Archie came out mumbled. Zofia popped her hands on her hips. Archie sighed low. "Baron Cooper," he finally said.

Zofia's thoughts snapped back to the corridor where she had been leading her new charge to Maud. Kahlan had at some point tried to hide herself behind Zofia, not wanting to be seen by Lord Grayer who had been standing with the king and Baron Cooper. Zofia's mind sighed low. Of course George Cooper had known, or his formidable sight had told him, what Zofia at that time hadn't yet decided. He had already known that she would break into Lord Grayer's private chamber, so he had sent her help.

"Okay, Archie. You have five seconds to tell me everything."

Archie shook his head. He pressed the handkerchief to his lips one more time before he began to speak. "I can't...not now."

Zofia frowned. "Why not?"

"Because I need to get up there," Archie pointed at the first floor where Zofia had just come from. Archie looked like he wouldn't explain further, but seemed to change his mind. "Hubert is there with Lord Grayer. Before the fight happened I broke into our own room and thrashed it, stealing a dagger I got as a gift from my brother. I accused a soldier from my squad of the crime afterward...hence the fighting. I may have to apologize to him at some point."

Archie took the handkerchief and gave it back to Zofia, who looked flabbergasted. "Here. You better hold on to this so Lord Grayer doesn't suspect anything." He began to walk away. "If you want to hear everything, meet me at Cobb." Archie had reached the staircase and had to lean against the banister, "he has my dagger."

Before Zofia could say anything, Archie took the stairs two at the time, bringing himself up to the first floor. She whispered softly to her crystal and everything around her became dark. The only light was from light that floated out of small windows in the building beside her. As she moved up towards the palace she saw soldiers who moved about setting fire to torches so everybody could navigate in the dark.

Making sure that the small pouch that contained the copied letter, still hung around her neck, Zofia began her journey to the smith.. Zofia couldn't wait to hand over the letter to George. Now they had proof that Lord Grayer was a traitor to the crown.

Hubert scratched the back of his neck. "I don't know, sir," he confessed. "I walked behind you from the palace where I had visited a friend after I got off duty, and then I found this when I opened the door." Hubert looked around and his eyes landed on two undisturbed small chests, that stood at the end of each bed. Quickly he rushed over and dropped to his knees. Fumbling with a key from his belt, he unlocked the chest that was his and pushed the lid open.

Lord Grayer moved over to stand behind him so he could look over the man's shoulder. Everything was intact. Hubert roamed the chest, pushing field gear to the side. Picking up a few items only to throw it back inside the chest. Hubert sat back on his heels. "Nothing seems to be missing, sir."

Lord Grayer nodded. "Good," he said, "what about the one you share this room with. Is he missing anything?"

Hubert shrugged, but walked over to the second chest. "Don't know, sir." He tried to lift up the lid of the chest and it came open. He looked back at Lord Grayer with a frown. "Erhm," he said, "I'm not sure that it was supposed to do that."

"Apparently not," Lord Grayer huffed, wishing he was back inside his own chambers instead of standing her. He was about to open his mouth, when a moan sounded from the corridor. Taking four steps back, he glanced out the door and lifted his eyebrows.

From the door that lead outside someone had stumbled in, and had accidentally hit the wall with one of his arms. The newcomer stood with his face all compressed in pain as he hold his right hand to his chest with the other. Lord Grayer recognized the man as Archie….something. Last names wasn't his thing and he didn't care to know.

As Lord Grayer stood looking, Archie began to walk over to was limping really bad and looked like he had been severely beaten. Hubert, who had seen Lord Grayer leaving the room, pushed his head out of the room and gasped. "Arch! What in Mithros' name happened to you?"

Archie smiled, or tried to as he replied. "Oh, I accidentally stumbled down the stairs. Someone should brush those stairs for autumn leaves, they make everything slippy."

Lord Grayer and Hubert both stared, knowing full well that no one would get such harsh injuries from falling down the stairs. The explanation Archie had given was the normal excuse of being in a fight with his fellow soldiers.

"Is that so." Lord Grayer asked and allowed his eyes to glide up and down Archie's frame.

Archie's expression changed to pure innocence as he answered. "It is, sir. You could ask Soldier Barlett. It was him I crashed into on the way down to the ground." Archie looked at Hubert, who only shook his head. Hubert already knew what was coming next.

"Then both you and Soldier Barlett have earned yourself an extra chore this winter, removing leaves from the staircase," Lord Grayer said as he returned his attention to the ransacked room. He didn't see the horrified look on Archie and the smug grin from Hubert. "Since you are here Soldier Archie, then you could please tell us why your room looks like something from the lower city?"

Hubert moved so Archie could inspect the room. Archie whistled low, splitting his lip a second time. Hubert sighed beside him, and handed him a handkerchief. Archie took it absently and dabbed his lip, before he spoke.

"No, sir," he finally replied and moved over to the chest that was his. Dropping down on his knees he looked into the opened chest. "But I'm pretty sure that I left this firmly locked this morning, before leaving…" he paused as his uninjured arm roamed the content of the chest. Finally he sat back on his heels and looked up at his commander.

"My dagger is missing," he finally revealed. In a split second he got eye contact with Hubert, who stood with his lips pressed firmly together. Both men knew that they were taking a risk, lying for their commander. Luckily Lord Grayer was a man who could be lied to, to some extent, but they had to keep it simple.

"A dagger?" Lord Grayer asked, clearly not at all satisfied with the answer.

Archie nodded and lifted up an empty leather scabbard. "My brother Bryon gave me the dagger that belonged to this," he paused for a moment and tossed down the scabbard, so it landed with a small thud in the chest, "clearly I have been robbed."

"Clearly, but we can't do anything about it now," Lord Grayer said as if he couldn't care less. He wanted to wrap this up and return back to his own chambers. He wanted a brief rest, before visiting Hatfield. "Clean up the mess and make sure to fetch new blankets for the night." He looked at the two men one last time, before he walked out of the room. "Both of you know where to new ones is stored."

Archie and Hubert saluted. They stayed where they were, until the door further down the corridor closed. "Are you mad?" Hubert demanded to know, as he picked up a torn blanket. "This," he gestured to the room, "wasn't part of our plan!"

Archie closed the door behind him. "I had to do something," he explained and continued growling. "Baron Cooper owes us."

"Indeed," Hubert snorted and turned the table over, "but trashing the room? Seriously, Archie! Can't you do anything that isn't going to complicate things?"

Archie shrugged, trying his best to make a makeshift sling. "Well. We got the job done, didn't we?"

Hubert moved over to his friend and helped him with tying the sling. "We best get you to a healer and then get some new blankets. I'm not going to freeze my butt off just because you decided to go overboard."

"I'm not going to a healer," Archie replied, "I promised to meet Zofia at Cobb."

Hubert stopped cleaning and looked up at Archie, whispering quietly. "Then she succeeded?"

"Of course she did," Archie answered, with something that sounded like pride.

They moved out of the room. Hubert laughed as he locked the door.. "You like her!"

"Do not," Archie growled walking ahead of Hubert, who had to hurry after Archie.

They began to walk down of the supposedly slippery stairs. The leaves on the staircase wasn't as bad, but Archie tried scrape of the begining layer of rotten leaves.

"Yes you do," Hubert continued, when they reached the ground. "Why don't you ask her out?"

Archie laughed highly as he shook his head. "Zofia isn't the kind of woman who daydreams about being wooed."

They walked up a hill. "Have you tried?"

Again Archie laughed. "No," he paused and became serious, "that would be like eating some of those spiky fruits from Carthak without peeling it…" he paused for a minute, before continuing, "and she would eat me alive if I tried. Anyway Baron Cooper was correct. Something stinks at the palace, and now we knows who's to blame."

The talking with Archie and Hubert hadn't taken as long as she had feared. She was well on her way up the hills to the palace again, much more wiser than before. She now knew that Baron Cooper that caught the two men on their way back from the kitchen and that he had asked them if they wanted to help him find out why a stench had suddenly filled the palace.

Zofia had during the talk wondered why George had chosen the two soldiers. She could only conclude that it had been because he had somehow known that the two soldiers lived in the same building as Lord Grayer did. The two men had done their part and Zofia had rewarded them for their effort. At first Archie had refused to take the two silver nobles, but had received two elbows in the ribs by Hubert until he gave in.

Now as she walked uphill, she lifted her face allowing the drizzling rain to hit her. The rain was refreshing, but she knew that the skies above her head would split apart and cold would descend over the palace. As she reached the inner wall, Zofia wondered if her mistress had returned to the palace or if the Lioness was still caught up in the chaos that had happened down in the city. Either way, Zofia couldn't wait to hand over the copied letter, but first she had to ensure that her new charge had bathed the children.

As she opened the door to the room where she had dropped of Kahlan, she found two newly dressed girls sitting neatly on each chair and Kahlan in the process of going over the boy's clothes, tucking and straightening Alan's tunic. Zofia retreated. Her new charge was managing very well.