The walk back to the inn was uneventful, if awkward. Galier and Jormand had their heads together the entire way, talking about whatever plan they were concocting. Lana heard little aside from the occasional name and a single barked laugh now and then. Whatever plan it was, it involved the kind of high society Lana had never been close to, only observed from afar. And they meant for her to be a part of it. It was mystifying. Lana had seen ladies, the way they walked, their dresses and coats, even their shoes seemed alien to her. They always twittered about much like these lords only higher pitched. It was not a life that she had ever thought she would have. She had to remind herself that she still did not, it would only be a sham, but something about it was intriguing. She could not quite put her finger on the reason why.

Occasionally, as Lana watched the two men talk, Jormand would shake his head and Galier would nod eagerly as if trying to convince the other man of something. Eventually, without fail, Jormand would let out a sigh that Lana could hear from behind and nod himself. Whatever they had in mind, Galier was doing the vast majority of the planning.

The streets seemed longer on the return. Jormand and Galier did not walk with any sort of haste and they kept to the middle of the street for the most part, heedless of the sun warmed stones that burned Lana’s feet. She did not complain, they were more likely to say something useful for her if they forget she was there at all. She could stomach the pain for now.

When they finally did arrive back at the inn, the crowd from before had more than doubled. There were easily two dozen people in the common room now, most muttering over mugs of ale. The mood was sour even though a man at the end of the room played music on a six stringed instrument Lana did not recognize. The tune was joyful even if the audience was not.

She did not have long to study the crowd however, Galier only stopped for a moment to send a server off at nearly a trot, the boy was on a mission. After that, Galier walked towards the staircase but instead of climbing them, he stepped behind the spiraling steps to a door well concealed in its shadow. He beckoned Jormand and Lana through. The two men were still chatting relentlessly, giving Lana as much attention as they did the cat sitting outside the door. She wondered if it were the namesake of the inn.

Behind the door it was muggy and warm, nearly as warm as outside and far more humid. It was also dark. Galier took a dim lantern from a peg by the door, the only source of light that Lana could see, and began to descend steps Lana could barely tell were there at all in the darkness. It only got warmer as they descended.

When the staircase ended, Lana judged they were in the warehouse beneath the inn. She had wondered what was down there but now that she stood in it, she was just as curious. She could see nothing outside of the dim circle of light cast by Galier’s lantern. She could see that the stone floor was damp but little else. They were in a small room, the smooth wooden walls barely illuminated. A line of shadowy benches ran along one of them next to a door. It was that door that Galier headed towards, Jormand in tow. Lana followed, feeling it was better to stay in the light.

The room they walked into was no less dark but from the echo Lana could tell it was large, very large. The small group only walked a few paces in before Galier set his lantern down on a stout, small table that Lana had not even noticed was there. He shuttered it partially, dimming the already low light. Lana’s eyes adjusted quickly. To her surprise, the three of them stood at the edge of a man made pool set into the floor, ringed with tiles that bordered on the stone. She could not judge the depth in the darkness but the huge room made more sense now. Of course an establishment such as Galier’s would have baths, they were one of those things that Nobles always had, yet another waste of good, clean water.

Now that she realized why they were there, Lana turned back towards Galier and Jormand who had taken off their jackets and laid them on the table next to the lantern in a rumpled pile.

Apparently seeing her apprehension, Galier stepped towards her with that same reassuring smile from the night before.

“Oh, of course, I suppose you’ve never been to the baths before.” The public baths in the inner city near the palace were supposedly open to everyone but guards still kept out the undesirables and that meant Lana. She shook her head, her dampened tail of hair whipped about.

“The baths are one of life’s truest pleasures, Lana. There is nothing to be afraid of, it is only water. Not deep either.” He had woefully misattributed her hesitation. Living near the canals, one could not afford to fear water. Water that surely had dangers lurking in it. No, she worried about the eyes of the muscle bound men before her, now stripped to the waist. Galier was well built under that jacket of his and Jormand even more so.

Following her gaze towards the bare back of his friend, Galier’s face slackened with dawning understanding. “Oh,” He said again. “We don’t need the light of course.” He moved to shutter the lantern fully, leaving them in pitch darkness except for the pool of light perhaps an inch wide coming from the barest cracks in the lantern’s housing. Again he misjudged her apprehension but Lana supposed that in the darkness she did hold the advantage. Neither man knew she had her knife and she had seen Jormand place his onto the table just before the light winked out.

So, even though her every instinct told her of the danger of being in the dark with two strange men, unclothed no less, after she heard the two splashes of the men getting into the pool, she wriggled out of her dress and shift and laid them on the floor near the edge before getting in herself. She felt around beforehand to be sure neither man was in her way.

The first shock was the water. It was warm, not warm like the canals in the sun but warm like the soup innkeepers would occasionally hand out to the people on the streets. It was alarming at first, it felt a lot like the hot streets on her feet outside but as she grew accustomed to the temperature, she began to relax. The warm water eased aches she had long since thought permanent. Her back, her shoulders, every little pain accumulated from a life hiding in small places subsided. She let out a contented sigh and heard a chuckle from not far away in the darkness. She supposed she was probably acting just like anyone else foreign to such luxuries, making a fool of herself in front of those well acquainted with it. She could not care, it was a wonderful feeling, like floating in sunlight itself. She felt herself smiling broadly.

Jormand and Galier continued their conversation but Lana only half paid attention, the soothing water set her mind drifting. She thought of the events that had led her to that pool, of snatching up a discarded jacket in hopes of trading it for some food, of being cornered in an alley and rescued by a strange man. It ran so counter to the stories she had heard about the nobility. Perhaps she was letting the pampering she had received addle her mind. A man of extensive means could afford to keep a woman he planned to use in luxury for a time. She would just have to remain vigilant a while, until she knew what he was really after.

Lana’s thoughts were interrupted as the men finally tried to engage her in their conversation. Their plan was not what she had expected. In her mind there were images of hiding in doorways, of ghosting into guarded mansions under cover of night to spy and to coerce information from the frightened occupants. The kind of thing she had always assumed was the core of espionage. But they had other ideas. Ideas that involved parties and banquets, dresses and makeup. Ideas that she was decidedly less prepared for. Again she began to feel apprehensive but they continued with their explanation anyway, assuming her participation was guaranteed.

It would be her job to go to these events disguised as a lady from the country, sent to Maerin to establish a foothold for her unimportant house. She was to remain unnoticed, no self respecting noble would look twice at a new blood nobody, Galier said. She was to listen without asking questions. They made it sound as if she would be invisible if only she did not speak.

They continued on, talking of lords and ladies Lana had never heard of, of keeps and manors and how best to finagle their way into whoever’s good graces. They spoke of where to find the finest wine or the best entertainment. For Jormand that seemed to mean the least regulated combat. His tastes leaned far to the side of bloodlust when compared to Galier who kept extolling the virtues of this flautist or that dancing hall. They usually settled one way or another through some process of whining that Lana certainly did not understand. They spoke of party after party, feast after feast and for each one they devised the best manner for Lana to spy, usually that meant which lords or ladies to follow. Once that was settled, they would plan the best way to enjoy themselves. Apparently it was Lana’s job to listen and watch while Jormand and Galier were to simply attend these lavish parties as if nothing had changed. It puzzled Lana, Galier had been so intent on finding answers, so intent that he had sifted through the doubtlessly useless stories she told for long hours in hopes to find something useful. Now, faced with the chance to actually find a piece of actual use, an iron hard lead, he planned to drink and dance. It was flightier than she had expected. She had to remind herself that these were noblemen, a cause was really just another bauble to be displayed for them.

The parties they spoke of were interesting though, Lana did not look forward to her role but the chance to be inside so many of those monstrous manors she had seen was more than enticing. The entertainment offered both stunned and shocked her. Galier spoke wistfully of dancing and music, as Lana had expected but Jormand had his mind set on fighting. And he was not disappointed. For every dance hall that Galier would attend, there was always a theater to host fights, many to the death. When Jormand spoke of those, Lana could hear the glee in his voice. She could not see him in the darkness but she wagered he was grinning from ear to ear. That man made her skin crawl when he spoke of violence. She had been right to fear him at first, she thought. He was far too eager to fight and kill. The rest barely incited a reaction at all from him. His kind were common in her life, they whittled down the population until only they remained in time.

Eventually, after what Lana judged to be over an hour spent in the damp, dark baths, their planning came to an end. Galier was confident they would find some lead to this assassin. He left it unspoken but Lana was sure he meant to follow that lead back to the Lady of Stars. The thought made her shiver despite the warm water of the bath. She did not want any part of that. She had seen little of the Lady’s power but what she had seen…

An image flashed in her head for a brief moment. The Lady’s fingers curled about that poor man’s throat while her lips wore a twisted smile. Her painted nails digging deep into his swollen flesh as she lifted him nearly off of his feet. Only his toes touched the rough surface of her scrap wood throne. When she was done with him she cast him aside, flinging him with one hand off the edge of the wharf without a sign of straining. His limp body had missed the water. It had been low tide and so near to the shore, rocks jutted out of the shallows all around. Tall, pointed rocks, to be avoided, smaller than the stone teeth to the south of the city but no less dangerous. Lana had watched him fall, watched his head strike stone, watched his body hang there, suspended as if from a gallows by that stone fang piercing his skull. It had been dark, too dark to see the grisly details but she had smelled the sharp blood on the wind. The rippling sound of the baths suddenly made her queasy.

It was gone again, in the space of a breath she put that night out of her mind. It did no good to think of it. She could not quite expel the knot forming in her gut.

It was easy to move her mind on to other things when she was handed a bar of honey scented soap, which she dropped several times in the dark. The smell was intoxicating and quite a shock to her. After a few awkward questions, she held a handful of thick soap lather and was rubbing it into her hair as instructed. The smell was overpowering but pleasant so she did not really mind and the feeling of her hair after she had rinsed it out was marvelous, much like what she thought silk must feel like. Her transformation into a lady had begun it seemed. She chuckled at the thought.

Not long later, now freshly washed and with minimal embarrassing slips, Lana made it out of the pool. She huddled near the rim, knees tucked up by her chin next to her pile of clothes as she waited. Hopefully they would tell her what to do next, she was certainly too wet to dress now but she hated being so exposed, even in the pitch dark.

She did not have to wait long. Galier’s voice from the darkness guided her back to the small table where she found a towel. It was delightfully fluffy and dry even in the damp room. It absorbed the water quickly and soon she stood in her dress again, hair tied back with its ribbon and knife safely stowed against her thigh. It had not come loose at all in the bath to her surprise. The men took longer to dress, groaning loudly as they stretched but they too were dressed soon and once they were the lantern was unshuttered and the three of them were on their way back out. In the now bright lantern light, Lana could see there were several pools like the one they had used, dispersed on either side of the stone walkway. They were marked with smooth tiles on the floor so they could be found in the dark and each had a small stand next to it with a deep drawer, no doubt where those delightful towels were stored. She wondered if a dress could be made from that material, or a coat perhaps. It was far and away more pleasant than her dress, and thicker too.

Though he was as tired as he had ever been before, Galier still felt invigorated walking through the gates of the lady Nycaeus’ keep. She was there to greet her guests herself tonight in a show of security. Although she had no less than eight armed guards flanking her. Even the old blood were taking the threat of assassinations seriously. That boded well for finding information.

Galier entered alone, as planned. Jormand would have already arrived some time since, all of the competitors were required too, and Lana would be there in an hour or so. Galier hoped it would not take long for her to find a desperate lord to latch onto.

As he passed the hostess by, Galier offered a polite nod. Their houses were on good enough terms to warrant it. He got a sternly raised eyebrow in return. Like most of the old blood, the lady Nycaeus would not want to be seen being too civil with someone of Galier’s breeding. With the way she reacted to him, an entrenched part of Maerin’s nobility, he began to worry about Lana’s chances of being let in.

It had taken more effort than Galier cared to admit to prepare that twig of a girl for this. All of Galier’s skill lay in bringing attention to what was desirable and hiding what was not. He could make his own beak of a nose into a noble feature, he could make his impure hair into an accent but it was not so easy with Lana. It had been difficult enough with someone who possessed not a single feature someone like the lady Nycaeus would approve of and her vehement dislike of most of Galier’s suggestions had not helped. And that had been the least of the troubles. Finding a dress to fit her had been a chore, there had been no time to have one made of course. They had finally had to settle on something Saphi had found, apparently left by someone at the Captain’s Cat. It was not what Galier would have chosen. The blue silk did not match well with her eyes and hair and hiding that knife of hers was a task Galier was not excited to reattempt.

He made his way into the main building of the keep complex without stopping to chat with any of the gathered men and women in the courtyard. He nodded respectfully or waved as he passed of course but he did not have the time to dally. Ahead of him, the pair he followed had stopped. The lord and lady Ealhold were unaccompanied tonight, surprisingly. As they paused to talk to someone Galier did not pay any mind to, he pressed forward, eventually catching up just as they began to move again.

Eliah acknowledged him with a tight lipped smile as they entered the main building of the keep but they did not slow. Galier matched their pace, striving to look nonchalant as he nearly jogged to keep up with them. They were less at ease than they looked.

“My lady,” He performed an awkward half bow while still walking quickly, “My lord,” He thought better of another bow. “I hope all is well with you, after last night’s unpleasantness.”

“Everything is well my boy,” Tegrimm said under his breath. He maintained his stoic facade but his voice did not match it well. “There is no need for you to worry yourself about that.”

Eliah shot her husband a warning glance and he shut his mouth with a click of teeth. She then turned an unconvincing smile to Galier, all teeth and bloodless lips. “Lord Caerest, your concern is appreciated but I assure you that house Ealhold has withstood worse and will continue to do so. Now, if you please, we have other business to attend to.” She turned abruptly and tugged Tegrimm along by his arm, but before they could disappear into that impenetrable wall of people gathered in the entrance hall, Galier rushed to their side again.

“Forgive me, my lady,” He began, as graciously as he could manage, “I will not bother you long. I only thought you might be interested in some information I have gathered. Information pertaining to your visitor last night.”

Eliah stopped in her tracks. Galier took another step before realizing and wheeling back around to face the pair of nobles. They still looked the model of decorum of course. Not even a drop of sweat to mar Tegrimm’s charcoal black hair. The man spoke first, in a tone close to pleading.

“I suggest we hear him out, Eliah. At the very least he may have gotten a good look at the man.”

Eliah nodded briskly and without a word she motioned for Galier to follow. He complied of course, better to heel like a hound than to let his knowledge go to waste. Eliah and Tegrimm cleared a path through the hall and left a wake of startled bows. Galier hurried after them and offered apologetic smiles to the people he passed. Most did not even give him a second glance.

The sea of people filled the gap quickly behind Galier with a near solid mass of colorful silk and wool. The dull buzz of conversation resumed too as if nothing had interrupted them at all. Looking at it, worries for Lana crept back into Galier’s head. If these things caused him any pause, it would be so much worse for her. Again he put those thoughts out of his mind. She would fend for herself. She would have to.

Eliah and Tegrimm led him out to the back courtyard much faster than he would have been able to manage on his own. There were few other people there so early in the evening but still those few were avoided. They eventually stopped along the walkway in a far corner of the courtyard where they could watch the doors easily. There, finally, Eliah broke her silence.

“What do you know.” She demanded, her proper courtly voice was gone now and she spoke with a tongue of cold iron.

Taken aback, it took Galier a moment to respond. “I um, I followed the assassin that night.”

“We are aware, do not waste my time lord Caerest.” He was surprised, even a little afraid. Eliah Ealhold was never the warmest person but Galier had not expected hostility, not in response to an offer of help.

“I mean after.” He responded indignantly, straightening his jacket for an excuse to break eye contact. It was a little too warm of a garment for the season apparently and he found himself sweating. “I saw the man, down by the harbor. I followed him to the wharf but I lost him in a crowd.” He could feel his cheeks flush with embarrassment. It was a good thing that thick makeup was the current fashion.

Eliah sighed heavily and Tegrimm was visibly relieved.

“Is that all?” She asked, the razor edge was gone from her voice. If Galier had not witnessed her earlier hostility he would have thought she was concerned.

“Yes…“ Galier paused. They two did not seem to even care that he had a lead on Tegrimm’s would be killer. “Like I said, I lost him in the crowd. I thought you would want to know…” He had been hoping that they would be willing to help him find the man. They held considerably more resources than he. More than the vast majority of Maerin. Their influence could have ushered his investigation along quite nicely. “Forgive me, my lady, it seems I have wasted your time.” He turned to go, shoulders hunched in shame and worry.

He stopped as he felt a vice like grip on his shoulder and turned to face Eliah who was looking after him with something that looked very much like worry.

“Be careful. You sail on dangerous waters, Galier.” She then turned and walked away, ahead of Galier, her husband not a step behind.

Galier remained. The familiarity from Eliah had shaken him. Though nothing like the old blood nobility, she was still known for being cold. He had known her for nearly his entire life and could not remember a time she used his given name, not even as a child. That had him worried more than even her warning, though it appeared to be deathly serious. As he watched the pair of them walk away, he felt the icy grip of fear at the base of his skull and down his spine. His skin tingled, his teeth itched. He had indeed stepped into something above him. And he had no intention of stopping now.

The arena, if it could even be called that, at lady Nycaeus’ hold was not much to look at. Sure it was broad and covered with good, coarse sand, but it was little more than a sparring ring. The only thing keeping back any future audience was a low wooden railing. Carved intricately and polished to perfection of course, but still. It was almost insulting to Jormand as he leaned against it, watching the other men and women there for the night’s fighting doing stretches or warm ups with their weapons. Jormand did not join in. He was already as ready as he needed to be, limbered and fully covered in his armor, spear on his shoulder, and he had no intention of giving them any edge on him in a fight by letting them see his form now.

There were far fewer fighters here than there had been at Ealhold manor the night before. Only perhaps a half dozen including him all of which seemed to be members of the nobility themselves. Very different from the night before. Among those in the arena, Jormand only recognized a few. There was slender Rianne Teloway, Jormand avoided her sharp looks. Her stint with Galier had not ended well, nor long ago. It looked like she was more than willing to take her anger out on his friends. Jormand would be ready.

Across from Rianne, Jormand also recognized young Scythese from Sapho, the wealthy young man had attached himself to the philosopher Stellaphrena, much to the chagrin of his parents, a few years past. Jormand was more than surprised to see him in the city proper, even more to see him in heavy bronze armor, spear and shield in hand. The boy was little more than sixteen by Jormand’s estimation and he had never seen him fight before, never seen him do anything but argue with other students or passers by. Judging by his weak grip on his spear’s haft, he was none too practiced. He stood side by side with another man Jormand thought looked familiar, but he could not place a name to that pale, time worn face.

Jormand was more than certain he could win any match here but that was not his reason to be there. With a sigh, he roused himself from his stupor and crossed the small stretch of sand towards that group of three. He made his best effort at a friendly smile as he approached. Rianne for one was having none of it. She frowned deeply but gave no resistance to his joining them.

“It is good,” Jormand began in a jovial manner, “To see some friendly faces among my competition tonight.” He smiled at each individually. They all returned it politely. Rianne’s was little more than a grimace. Perhaps a little less.

“Are you sure you’re up to it? I heard you were wounded last night.” She was positively gleeful. Well Jormand would not give her the satisfaction of seeing his pain. His wounds did not really bother him that much. They were all shallow. It was a good thing Galier had forgotten about them though, no doubt he would have tried to keep Jormand out of the ring.

“Oh you must have had some bad information, my lady.” Jormand replied, still smiling.

All Rianne said in reply was “We’ll see.”

The other two were studiously poking at the sand with the butt ends of their spears now. They had the same doubts as to Jormand’s fitness to fight. Well no matter, they would soon see he was in good enough shape to beat them all into submission. He quickly redoubled his efforts at smiling, it had been slipping.

“What about you two, heard about what happened too?” Both men nodded but still did not look up. “Then you heard about the assassin too.” They all nodded, this time Rianne joined in, subdued. Jormand leaned in closer and quieted his voice, putting much of his weight onto his spear. “I heard he was caught by the guards but he escaped.” He said, just barely above a whisper. He hoped he sounded convinced.

Immediately Scythese shook his head. He started in an even quieter voice than Jormand. “I heard he leapt clear over the walls and ran off.”

Rianne snorted a laugh. When Scythese turned an indignant frown onto her, she only raised a fiery red eyebrow. “Over the wall.” She stated. All forced seriousness. “Aren’t you supposed to be a scholar?” She laughed again harshly.

Scythese shrugged in embarrassment. Jormand could even see his blush under pale makeup. “I did not say I believed it.”

The other man that Jormand thought he recognized was as unconvinced as Rianne and laughed along with her so Jormand turned to him next.

“What do you think happened then?” He asked.

“Lord Caerest chased him off with one of his own knives I heard.” He spoke with a thick accent, perhaps from Tauly, or Bridgeport. “Some’r saying the lord killed him, hid the body to avoid the attention.” Rianne responded with a sneer but she did not laugh this time. She knew full well how capable Galier was with a blade.

Jormand was stunned. He had expected some people to know Galier had gone after the assassin but this was beyond expectations. He hid any hint of knowledge, luckily surprise was an apt way to feel. After that, Jormand moved on. When he left the three of them behind, he heard them still discussing it still, behind him. The seed was planted now, just as planned. He moved on to the next group that was gathered on the sand. A pair of men who were talking heatedly about something. He would have their topic of conversation changed soon.