Precious Zann:

Seeing Wande there in the tower changed everything. As natural as it felt to stand around on guard duty again, the whole situation in Cas Crid was untenable. I had to figure out how to resolve it as soon as possible; there were just too many things going on. I had to find Srix or Candur or Ambe or somebody.

And leave Wande and Jhusdhe unguarded?

Well…

There was no worry about them coming out of their rooms. They didn’t want to. And if they changed their mind and did want to, I certainly wasn’t going to stand in their way.

But what about guarding them against someone coming to hurt them? To kill them, or take them away? In that case, there ought to be more than one man on the post. Back at the palace, we only put a single person on a post if nobody was ever going to notice it.

Anyway, the biggest threat to Wande and Jhus was Lord Clear himself, and if he came to harm them, just to be a pissard, there wasn’t much I could do about it.

Leaving Wande and Jhus unguarded, I took a quick swig from the jug and headed back down the tower. Once I was in the passage under the tower, I confidently headed north.

And almost immediately was confronted by a T-junction where my only choices were east and west.

My studies of the map of Cas Crid had led me to expect that I could go north from here, and that that was probably the best way to get to the rest of the Rosollas. I didn’t know what to do with east-or-west.

I tried east.

Obviously I was hoping that this passage would swing north again, but it didn’t; it went south and also downstairs. I went through a door at the bottom of the stairs and the passage went south again. Fine, I thought, let’s go back and try the other way, but when I tried, the door had locked behind me.

I swore cheerfully and continued south. Then there were more twists and turns and intersections and rooms I don’t remember. The part I do remember is that I walked into one room and got knocked down.

I hit the floor and gasped; someone landed on me.

“Don’t move, you piss splasher!” a voice said. The owner of the voice was kneeling on my back and holding a shaking knife to my throat. I didn’t move. He kept talking. “Drop–no, you’re not armed. Are you here to surrender?”

“Are you one of the rebels?” I said. “I didn’t know you fellows were this close.”

“I don’t have to answer your questions, guard!”

“Let’s just say I’m here peacefully; is it well?”

“I’ve got a surrendering guard here!” he shrieked out. “Come help me with him!” He bent his head down by my ear and said, in a low voice, “I promise if this is a trap I’m going to stab you in the pizzle.”

“It’s no trap,” I said. “I just don’t know my way around in this place.”

Footsteps. People arriving, probably more rebels.

“Let’s see what you’ve got!” said one voice.

“That’s a Rosolla uniform,” said another. I knew that voice! But– “They never surrender. It’s their oath. Let’s have a look at him.”

They picked me up and turned me around and for the first time in years Acea and I were face to face.

He still looked so good. But– “Ybel,” he said, astonished.

“You know him?” one of the others said.

“I know she’s not to be trusted,” Acea said. “Take her away. I mean, take him away.”

Love,

Ybel