Merek Valian believed that nothing, not even life, really, came without the struggle of cost--it was just that some men paid all their lives for the pleasure of living, while yet others settled their debts outright, thanks to their family name. Merek’s last name meant nothing. And as such, he at times wondered whether, after death, he would be reborn and made to pay for the pleasure of living an eternal life, too.

Better to wait as long as possible before finding out.

From atop the Godscliff, so named for its improbable height, were you to drop a rock from its summit, you would not hear it as it hit the Flatlands below. Merek knew this from the stories his mother told him while he as a boy; even a peasants crude understanding of the Highlands was enough to inform him of its dangers. Yet here he was anyway, aside the Godscliff, and all for a measly purse full of coin. He could almost hear his mother’s words: Well, I hope it was worth it, Merry.

He hoped it was, too.

The caravan comprised of twenty men, mostly hired swords--such as himself--and a few male slaves. No women. Not out here. The Highlands were filled with tribesmen who would kill a man, skin him, eat his flesh down to the bone. What they did to women was much worse. Which is why, when called to the litter that had spent weeks on the slaves backs, he was surprised to find a woman lying inside it, nude.

Master Jorbert, a small, squat man, dressed elegantly in a red leather tunic, grinned once Merek caught his eye; he’d been keeping a close eye on the naked women who was currently smoking a pipe. Jorbert: “Merek Valian, is it?”

“It is.”

“Would you believe Lywin here has never been away from the Hoverlands before?”

Merek looked the girl up and down. “I would--whores are never usually allowed to leave their brothels.”

Jorbert’s smile disappeared. “I remind you, sir. You are not speaking to one of your lowborn, swill guzzling friends. You are speaking to a Lord’s son.”

“I haven’t forgotten it.” Merek leaned in. “How could I, when this Lord’s son rides around the realm in a litter like a woman. No way I or anyone else could forget a man who travels like that.”

Rage boiled in Jorbert’s eyes, his face tightened, and for a second Merek though the man might reach out to strike him. But his face relaxed, the fury hidden, a sly grin spreading across his lips instead. “Valian, I hired twenty men to protect me as I traveled through Hoverlands, down the Highlands, all to stop on the edge of the Godscliff. And out of those twenty men, you are the only Flatlander. How is this so?”

“I was in the Hoverlands when the call for men came; you called, I answered.”

Jorbert reached over to a small cabinet and pulled out a crystal goblet full of wine. He took a glass, poured. Offered it to Merek. Merek shrugged, and took it. Jorbert smiled and poured himself a glass. “I’m sure the offer of coin had something to do with it.”

“It had everything to do with it.”

Jorbert leaned forward and gave Lywin’s left nipple a pinch and a twist. She cried out and bit down on the pipe between her lips. “Coin has everything to do with why this one’s come along, too.”

Merek glanced at Lywin’s flushing face. Jorbert was playing some game with him, with them both, really--the whore and sell-sword. He didn’t like it. “Is there something I can do for you, Master Jorbert.”

He took a gulp of wine and cleared his throat. “There is.” He snapped his fingers. “Girl, hand me my satchel.” Lywin leaned back behind her, brought out a leather bag, put it in-between them. Jorbert slapped at the girl’s feet playfully. She giggled. “Good girl.” He turned to Merek. “Do you want to make a good deal more coin? Enough to buy one of those savage Flatland huts with some land and some livestock?”

Merek licked his lips. “This some trick?”

“I do enjoy a pulling a good trick from time to time, Valian, but never when the business of money’s involved; by your question, I assume your answer is yes? You would like to swim in a pile of currency?”

“I would; who wouldn’t?”

“Who wouldn’t.” He took a drink from his wine glass. Then he smiled at Lywin again. It was a dragon’s smile. “Who wouldn’t, indeed.”

Jorbert finished his glass of wine, took Merek’s and finished that too, then placed the empty glasses in the cabinet. He rummaged inside it, pulled out another leather sack, the same at the first. “To win your prize, Valian, what I want you to do is take this satchel down to the base of the Highlands. There you will find Mary’s Inn. You know it?”

“I do.”

“Good. I want you to hand it off to a man named Gregor Hibane. He’s a fat old cunt but he’s a loyal man, at least to me. He’ll pay you. And then you are to forget you ever saw the satchel, forget you ever saw me--it would be best if you forgot there was ever a Hoverland to begin with. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“For your sake, I hope so.” He met Merek’s eyes. “The Highlands are a dangerous place. Is your blade sharp?”

Merek patted his scabbard. “Sharpened her just this morning--Flatland Steel. It could cut through a boulder, if you gave it a good whack.”

“Excellent.” Jorbert grinned, the dragon grin again. He handed Merek the satchel. “Put this on.”

Merek did.

“Good. Now, my father will arrive any second with his men. I want to be there to greet him.” He turned to Lywin. “Give me a kiss my dear.”

Lywin giggled and got on all fours. Her tan body glistened, even under a sunlight that traveled through the cloth folds of Master Jorbert’s litter. He lips were plump and red. Much more of her was similarly pleasing.

Merek felt something slam against his hip; he took a step back, sucked in a breath. In a flash of cold steel, the woman’s head fell from her neck, thumping across Master Jorbert’s feet. Blood sprayed across the inside of the litter. Her body dropped to the bedding and convulsed wildly, just once. Then all was still.

“Pity,” Jorbert said sullenly. “I rather liked her.”

“What in the Fates do you think you’re--”

Jorbert moved quickly, wrapping Lywin’s head in a thick cotton blanket and then putting it inside the second satchel. “Have the slaves toss the litter over the Godscliff; tell them I’m done with it.” He handed Merek his sword back. “And leave the body inside it as it goes over. Is that clear?”

Merek stared at him, mouth slightly open.

“I asked if that was clear.”

Merek nodded.

“Fine,” Jorbert started to get out of the litter, then stopped. “You’re not sickened by whore’s blood, are you?”

“I’m not sickend by any blood, but--”

Jorbert wiped his hands together. “Good. Then I haven’t misjudged you. Get to it.”

Merek watched as Jorbert hopped out of the litter and walked off through his crowd of hired men, laughing, pointing people out by name, looking back only once at Merek and nodding, the satchel around his neck, the woman’s head firmly wrapped up inside it.