That momentary smile left Rades' face when he saw Kelly's unconscious body draped over the back of a minotaur. The halberd hadn't even hit the floor in the time it took Rades to draw the pistol and shoot the minotaur between the shoulders. The building was deathly quiet.

The Graf turned about, ignored Mathex's angry face, and shot a second intruder, a third, thus clearing out the last of the nearby enemy. He turned about and saw another minotaur scoop up Kelly from the arm's of a dead comrade. "I'll explain later," Rades cried as he hurtled the banister and landed halfway down the staircase in front of the minotaur carrying Kelly.

Johann had seen the pistol before and knew that Mathex disapproved of it. Knew that it had been invented by the Kobalix cult and knew, more importantly that Rades needed their help right now. "Let's get'em!" he shouted and vaulted the banister.

"Well, if the old guy can do it, so can I!" declared Eluth and jumped after the old Stornium. Roreed followed, then Pothax while others began charging down the stairs.

Meanwhile Rades had been shoved aside by a minotaur and was hanging over the edge of the staircase. But then old Johann had come flying down and hit the minotaur over the head with the hilt of his sword. Eluth appeared at his side and helped him up.

The minotaur carrying Kelly disappeared out the front door. Pothax stepped in front of Rades, blocking an attack from a minotaur. Rades broke away from his brief courtship with death and glanced down. Fifteen foot drop. What if...

"Com'on Rades!" shouted Pothax, struggling to keep three minotaurs at bay. The cutthroat glanced behind him and saw only Eluth and Johann. "Where'd he go?"

The Graf landed on cutthroat laden down with silverware. Apparently some of these intruders had come here for other reasons. He scrambled to his feet and ran to the front door.

The minotaur tossed Kelly into the back of a open hood carriage and seeing Rades running towards him, waved. Waved! The Stornium barely thought as he lined up the sights on the pistol and pulled the trigger.

The minotaur fell from his perch on the carriage step. A handful of minotaurs shouted as the carriage took off, the horses whinnying from the sound the pistol had made. The driver woke from a daze and cracked a whip at the panicked horses.

Rades looked around desperately and spotted Alejandro grazing in the shade under a maple tree. The horse was apparently oblivious to all the commotion around him. The Graf quickly mounted the stallion, digging his heals into the horse's flanks.

Alejandro didn't need to be kicked again, he sped off at a gallop just like he was supposed to at the wall races, except Larry had stolen him. The huge warhorse chased the carriage down Grand Procession Boulevard and followed it onto Londun Road. The Stornium sawed at the horse's reins, looking around the crowded street desperately. Had he turned around he would have seen that the driver had doubled back and was now heading down Southport Ave towards the docks.

The city patrol arrived seconds after the last of the intruder's were killed. It amazed Pothax sometimes how they could always show up after all the work was done. They did however clean up the mess, and remove the bodies with one exception. Bren had found the retainer Devid lying in the parlour with his face bruised and battered, several broken ribs and what Pothax believed to be a punctured lung judging from all the blood the retainer was spitting up. The cutthroat took one look at him and told Bren to go to the kitchen with Larel to make some cold tea for Devid.

Larel met the cutthroat's eyes and stiffly hid the tears she knew would come. She wasn't going to be making any tea, that much was obvious. Pothax wanted her to hold Bren while Pothax did what had to be done.

After the two left the room, Devid tried to grin, but it turned into a racking cough as he spit up more blood. "Do it. I'm dead anyway," he croaked, spitting up more blood.

Pothax nodded sadly and slit the man's throat. He stood and took an afghan off the nearby sofa and covered the man with it. He turned away and walked stiffly to the kitchen where he found Larel sitting on the floor, holding a sobbing Bren. The cutthroat had a cold ache in the pit of his stomach as he sat down on the floor beside the two and put his arms around the two of them and closed his eyes. He wished that ache would go away.

Oh, when would the pain stop! When, when when, thought Victoria. Oh, God help me! She writhed on the bed promising herself that when this was over with she would not only murder Larry but torture him cruelly. And then she saw the cutthroat cut the cord with a silver dagger and wrap the child in a wool blanket. "I've never seen anything so beautiful," she murmured in wonder.

"Thank ye darlin'," slurred Larry as he handed the child to her. "I try my best to look purty for the ladies!" He grinned and Victoria considered slapping him, but then her thoughts returned to the child resting in her arms.

"Shut up Larry and get out of here," she growled.

"Of course, the wine cellar is calling me and I wouldn't dream of making it wait," he grinned and walked away casually as if nothing extraordinary had happened.

"I'll kill him later," she promised the babe. She studied her pink skin and tangle of red hair atop her tiny wrinkled head. Her chin and cheeks were plump and reddish, her ears small and delicate looking.

She barely noticed Wynic enter, helping a limping and rather drunken looking Derick. "Now I know how Redhawk feels when he comes home drunk," the doctor murmured just before he passed out from pain. The assassin laid the squire down on a rug and walked over to sit down beside his wife.

The brigadier looked at him and smiled warmly. Her eyes went back to the child cradled in her arms. She reached up gently and smoothed out the tangle of red hair.

"Is it...?" asked the Doxon as he snuggled in beside her in order to get a better look at the babe. He glanced at her and back at the babe in wonder. "I don't care what it is," he declared, reaching out a bloodstained hand to gently caress the child's pudgy cheeks.

"It's your daughter."

The assassin's eyes widened farther than Victoria had ever seen them before. "A girl?" She nodded. A grin spread across Wynic's face as he stared at the child. "What should we call...?"

"Anything but Larry," grinned Victoria. She looked around her as if for the first time. "Where's Redhawk when you need him? He knows all about names and their meanings!"

"Waiting in the hallway, like a respectable knight should," the Kinian's voice came from the hall. "That, and I'm helping myself to the brandy! I think it's Kignac, though I could have sworn Wynic didn't have any."

"Do come in," Victoria called, tossing a quilt over the bed. "We need your knowledge right now?"

"Are you respectable?"

"As respectable as I can be."

The knight entered, carrying a decanter. He offered the bottle to Wynic and Victoria. The assassin bent over and breathed in the bouquet. "It is Kignac! I don't recall ordering any!" Victoria passed and pointed to the babe.

"Ah, ain't he-" he began.

"She," Victoria corrected.

"-she cute," he amended. He grinned and took a drink. "Hm, maybe Waytorn or," the knight glanced at Victoria, "or Larry brought it."

"Makes sense," said Wynic. "He did go to Treburdun after all. I imagine they're short a couple kegs of the stuff!" He reached for a glass from the night table so he could try the brandy.

Redhawk shrugged. "More for us," he said and took another drink. "It's a shame about Devid. He really could cook!" murmured the knight.

The glass fell to the floor and shattered. Wynic looked up slowly, his eyes meeting Redhawk's. "What-?" he started to say, but instead stood up and rushed from the room.

Victoria looked at the knight, tears welling up in her eyes. "Is he...?" She left it hanging.

Redhawk nodded. "Punctured lung, very painful and he was well past saving."

"Did someone...?"

"Pothax."

She looked down at the babe nestled in the crook of her arm. Suddenly the world didn't seem such a joyous place. She opened her mouth, looking at the child and spoke. "Amber Devidia Dextra Doxon, this is a cruel world you live in. Let's pray you have the strength to adapt to it." There were tears running down her cheeks as she spoke.

Mathex was fuming. How dare...? How could he...? Why did Rades keep the pistol? The minotaur had told everyone it was a vile weapon that could only lead to evil! But Rades hadn't listened to him. It was obvious that he was going to have to talk to the human and explain what could result from this...

"Mathex," said a sober voice from behind the minotaur. He turned about so quickly he nearly ran into Rades. The Graf backed off and looked up at the minotaur. "I understand your point about these things being illegal, but please understand that I only use it in extreme emergencies. Like today."

The minotaur frowned, his anger spent out. Why did Rades always have that ability to smooth out someone's problems? What had Rades done to get so... wise? He snorted. "I wish you had told me, but I'd much prefer if you'd destroy the damn thing. What if it fell into the wrong hands?"

"We didn't kill off all of Kobalix's henchmen, you know. There may be warehouse of these things somewhere, just waiting for someone to find them and use them. And then there was that explosion down on the docks today."

He was right, Mathex realized. Kobalix's men were here, indeed he wagered that if searched the bodies of these intruders that he'd find...? Find what? Plans to build canons like the ones they'd had during the Ice War? What did he expect to find? Nevertheless, he wagered that some of these men were ex-henchmen of Kobalix. There had been thousands and thousands of them after all.

"I'd better get going now. Princess Kelly's been abducted and I told her father I'd take care of her." He said it so stoically that Mathex wondered if the Graf even understood his own words. The man before him was not the same man he had met half a year ago, in more ways than one.

It was then that Lord Moffat shouted, "Has anyone seen Nevada or Terencio?"

She had two choices right now and both Nevada and Terencio knew it. One was to join forces with the Crimson Companions and gain control of the Athexian underworld, the other was go home in defeat. The joining of forces looked somewhat promising, but right now, after losing the bulk of her men, she felt one of the safest things to do was pack up and go home. She mulled both thoughts over as she drank sarsaparilla at the Drunken Dragon Tavern and watched Terencio drink his wine moodily.

To go home would most likely mean passing through territory that was right now in a state of war. To go south would mean daring the bandits in Stornium to attack when she had only a few men left. North meant Kinian and right now the ice caps were still melting which meant high likelihood of avalanches. Staying here meant staying in a city that was currently in a state of chaos.

She sat quietly and eavesdropped on the patrons in the next booth. They were discussing how their Lord was currently having problems with the number of deaths Nevada had ordered. Apparently there was a huge lack of nobles and the commons were threatening to overthrow them. Possible Rebellion was whispered more than once.

A pair of merchants were arguing over the suddenly increased prices of shipping goods by boat. One believed it was because of the explosion down on the docks, while the other firmly insisted it was because of all of this King Culprit nonsense that ship captains were reluctant to even dock in Southport where the cost of renting a pier was half that of Northport where all the huge schooners were docked.

It amazed the Cherten that such things could effect the atmosphere of the city so profoundly. Then there was this business about organized crime that frightened shop owners. One shop owner claimed he had counted thirty incidents where a shop had been completely robbed of everything, in broad daylight!

Then there was the Summerfest, of course. The most chaotic time of year in the first place. The celebrations included everything from riots to competitions to the Summerfest Games being held. This was all amplified by a thunderworks display over the walls every evening and the best year for wine since the turn of the century. This celebration should have been called Drunkfest she thought with a smile.

A voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked up to see Rades talking to the proprietor. The fat man nodded and pointed at Nevada's booth. The Graf thanked him and made his way across the room, past the dancers and a man playing the bagpipes.

"Graf Rades," she said, looking up at him. "Won't you sit down?" She shifted over and offered him the space beside her.

"Danke," the man replied, sitting down beside her. "What are you planning?" he asked bluntly.

Nevada smiled. "I'm trying to decide whether to team up with you and your companions or leave altogether. I've lost a lot of men here."

"It's getting late and I think you better make your decision pretty soon. There are those here in Athex that if you're not with them, you're against them. Do you understand?"

"Does West fall into that category?"

"If you didn't know it already, I'd better tell you now. Waytorn told me West is a con artist, a charlatan. He uses his accent to trick people into thinking he's just a honest country man." Nevada raised an eyebrow. "He used you."

She merely nodded. "Your point is?"

The Graf glanced at Billip. "I wish to discuss this matter of teaming up. Okay?" She nodded again. "That and I'd like you to send Terencio down to the docks to watch a trireme called the Overlord."

"That's the ship with all the black dirt? With all the oars?" asked the Cherten.

"Ya." He stood and offered Nevada his arm.

She looked up at him with hesitation. Finally she stood and accepted his arm for support. She glanced at Terencio as she was led away. It was hard to tell if he disapproved of this new arrangement. If he did he didn't show it.

Rades led her to the stables and helped her up onto her horse. She barely recognized the horse Rades was riding but wasn't that surprised. Terencio had mentioned one of the stallions had been stolen.

They rode down Westgate Avenue and stopped at what she thought to be a park of some sort. Then she saw the tombstones and she realized with dismay that this was the city cemetery. Rades stopped ahead of her and dismounted.

"What are we doing here?"

"Visiting a friend. You've heard of Sir Dillard? This is where he's buried," he explained pointing to a tombstone. "I can't read very good, but Wynic told me what it says: Regardless of whether I go to Heaven or Hell, it is preferable to do good deeds. Do you understand what that means?"

Nevada looked at the stone and thought. Rades wanted her to do this, it was the reason why he had brought her here and she knew what it meant. She had read the inscription and guessed what Rades would say. "It means that when you die, will you be proud of your deeds?" she replied. She looked at Rades and caught his single eye.

"And are you?"

Nevada looked at him and smiled. "If you're trying to make me feel guilty, you've made your point. I hate to speak ill of the place, but cemeteries always bother me."

"Of course. It reminds us all that we will all return here one day, and that isn't a happy thought." He mounted his horse without saying anything, giving the grave a quick salute.

"Rades," she said as she mounted her horse. "I've been meaning to ask you something. Were you always like this? I heard you changed during the Ice War."

The Graf stopped and turned about. "No. Nor do I enjoy being like this."

"Then why do it?"

"Because it's the only thing I seem to have left. There is very little room for happiness in my heart right now, and not much is going to change that." he sighed and changed the subject. "Our next stop is a visit to the Osmondelias Estate where we can surely stay the night. Right now you have many enemies and if no one knows where you are, you'll be much safer. Besides, you'll need a goodnight's sleep to think."

Nevada nodded, weighing odds that Rades wasn't planning on staying at Osmond's estate and would more likely be heading down to the docks as soon as he was sure someone would be watching her. She wondered just how much Kelly mattered to the Graf. Was there room in his heart for Kelly, or even Nevada?

Osmond and Rades sat across a campfire they had built out in the orchard. Osmond had insisted that good ideas always came when one had time to meditate. Rades wasn't one to argue and agreed. He wasn't going to the docks after all and the real reason he had came here was because he needed company and advise. They roasted corn and sausages and drank mulled cider as Rades explained the situation in detail. Then Osmond sat back to think it over logically.

"It is obvious that we need to find Princess Kelly and the fact that you were attacked by minotaur sailors suggests the Overlord as the most possible place for her to be held. Or at least the docks. Where is West's hideout?"

"A rundown estate down in the Southport District."

"Okay let's say for now she's down that way. The next problem is the question of motive. Why the Princess? What could West or the Kobalix Cult want with her? Let's leave ransom out because it doesn't make any sense in this situation. A bargaining piece maybe. Waytorn leaves town and he gives her back? I don't think so. Let's face it Rades, we don't have enough information to establish a motive, so we have no idea what they plan to do. Right now the best thing would be to start combing the Southgate District. Getting someone aboard the Overlord seems to be a good start and staking out West's hideout is another. What do you think?"

"I agree. We need more information and I think I know the girl to do it."

"Nevada?"

"She's the best. If anyone can get close to West, she can."

"Excuse me senor," said Terencio, stopping a passing merchant. "Do you know where I could find the Overlord?" The man shrugged and pushed by the Cherten. Since coming to the main land the Cherten had been shocked how rude people were, now he wasn't surprised and decided to try an tavern called Sailor's Cove and ask for directions.

It was a dusty, rundown place with a thick layer of soot covering it's roof. The soot here in Athex was incredible, but the fog in Southport was worse. He opened the door to the tavern and looked inside.

The proprietor looked up from where he was mopping up broken pieces of clay pottery and spilt ale. "G'day stranger. 'Fraid ye missed da fight."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I can go to a different-"

"Naw, sit down. Could use the company to talk to why I clean up. Help yerself to a drink behind the bar, if ye like," said the man and went back to his mopping.

Terencio was a bit surprised by this unnatural friendliness, but helped himself to a tankard of ale. It smelled good and it had a wholesome taste to it. He sat back on a stool as the proprietor continued to clean up the mess and watched. "Does this happen often?"

"Aw, well, I could suppose ye could say it has its seasons. Its always worse during Summerfest though. Those minotaurs in port haven't helped though. Always starting fights dem fellars!" snorted the man, picking up a broken tableleg and tossing it onto a pile of broken things to be fixed. "This Fest been da worst though!"

"All this King Culprit stuff not good for business?"

"Naw! Business is booming. Ye see when people get worried about stuff like that they can't resist the urge to drown themselves in ale. Of course, there was dat explosion over on the next block. Since then people have been kind of 'fraid to go near the docks!"

"I heard it too! How big was it?"

"Wal, let's just say I cleaned da soot off my roof this morning and its so thick now parts of my roof are sagging!"

Terencio nodded and refilled his tankard. "Being a foreigner, I'm not used to this sort of stuff. Are things always this bad here in Athex?"

"Naw, it's just da recent wars! I've always found Athex to be a sort of peaceful haven, with the exception of all the crime, of course."

"Of course, I suspect the crime will go down when the crooks have killed themselves all off!"

"Already has went down! It's just this 'organized crime' stuff that's scaring us common folk."

"Of course," nodded Terencio, finishing his ale and setting a silver piece on the bar. "Do you know where the Overlord is docked?"

"The minotaur ship? Ya, I do! Cursed Pier, I'm afraid. I've never been a superstitious person but ever since they docked at Cursed Pier, I've been wondering!" said the proprietor, setting down his mop and wiping his brow.

"Cursed Pier?"

"Pier Thirteen. Where are ye from that ye never heard of da Accursed Number Thirteen?"

"Cherte. We have many different superstitions there. One of them is that if you sleep outside during a full moon you will be blessed with long life."

The man snorted, picked up the silver coin and tucked it in his pocket. "Ye Cherten's are a strange folk, but ye probably say the same about us Athexians. Eh?"

Terencio nodded and tossed the man another silver coin. "Especially all the kilts!" He waved to the man and went back out into the street.

The sun had set, making the sky on the western horizon turn into a reddish pink. People had taken on a more festive air. Obviously people did their trading and work while the sun was up and when it went down began to celebrate.

He bought some sticky bread to munch on from a vendor and got directions at how to get to pier thirteen. Licking his fingers he came to the pier only to find it empty.

Had the proprietor been wrong? Maybe it was a different pier? He asked around and discovered that it was indeed pier thirteen and that yes the Overlord had been docked there. But it wasn't any more.

Nevada wasn't surprised when she woke up to find Lord Moffat and two other knights guarding her room. She went down to a little room called the Break-the-Fast Lounge. She couldn't understand why anyone would have a room just for eating breakfast. She could however understand why Lord Moffat and his two knights were escorting her everywhere.

A servant came out with fried bacon, toasted bread and a generous helping of fried potatoes spiced with cayenne and parsley flakes. Then there was a pitcher of sarsaparilla to wash it all down. It was quite fattening she was sure, but definitely good tasting. The strange tasting sarsaparilla was still a treat and she wondered how the mainlanders made it. She'd have to ask for the recipe before she left. If she left.

Lord Moffat ate down everything put in front of him, not necessarily a glutton, his table manners were better than hers, but the food did disappear quite quickly. He kept his eyes on Nevada the entire time, watching every move she made warily. He obviously took his job very seriously.

After she had finished a servant came and asked Nevada if she would meet Lord Osmond and Graf Rades out in the new barn. She accepted, surprised to learn that Rades was still here. Lord Moffat finished his meal quickly, his two knights following suit and soon they were walking across the green lawn towards the new barn.

The Osmondelias estate was quite fancy and it was a surprise to see green lawn since most of the grass had been burnt till they had turned brown. She soon saw why. The place was crawling with gardeners that had set up a miniature stream that wound its way all around the estate so that they could get access to water quickly and easily and make sure all the plants didn't shrivel up in this heat. She hoped those clouds on the horizon meant a summer storm here in Athex as they did in Cherte.

The new barn looked quite woody and had a relaxing pine smell to it. It was startling clean and the horses stalls were polished to a shine. Osmond must like horses as much as she did. She wrinkled her nose as she passed the dung drop. She was a bit surprised to also see Terencio here, but his presence helped her to relax. She nodded at Rades and gave Osmond a smile to show she had slept well.

"The Overlord has left port," said Terencio simply.

Rades nodded gravely. "I've already sent a message to a captain I know of and I believe we can begin pursuit. But first we need to know who to take. I've already put Wynic, Pothax, myself and the marines on the list. Do you know of anyone else?" He was looking at Nevada.

This was it. The time in which the decision must be made. Rades didn't seem certain of what she would say. Osmond was smiling at her as if she'd certainly agree. Lord Moffat was scowling at her. She closed her eyes and thought about Rades said last night and recalled something her father had said: "We are all dust in the wind, but what really matters is what kind of dust? Diamond dust perhaps?" She opened her eyes and looked Rades in the eye. "I suppose Terencio and I could go, though I'm not sure what we could do."

An arrow whizzed out of a hayloft and teared through the air towards her head. She knew the split second she saw it that there was nothing she could do. She was as good as dead.

Lord Moffat's shield came up and the arrow bounced off harmlessly. "Three men in the loft! Hurry!"

Nevada was quickly pushed into one of the horse stalls as the commotion broke out around the barn. How had Lord Moffat known there was three men? She hadn't seen anyone else!

The Lord was shouting orders and more and more men were appearing. Some were dressed like gardeners and stable hands yet still carried swords. What was going on? she asked herself from the safety of the stall.

Fighting could be heard from both the loft along with plenty of thumping on the roof of the barn. There was a shouted warning from above and a scream which was cut off by a silent thud. Nevada didn't have to see a thing to guess the man was dead.

There were other sounds of men shouting surrender and the barn was now crowded with armed men. Where had they all come from? Again she wondered what the Hell was going on?

"Nevada?" asked Osmond appearing in front of her stall. "It's over. Are you all right?" She shook her head dumbly. She really didn't have a clue, she was much too shocked to say anything. "Let's go into the mansion then. We need to talk."

"When Terencio first arrived at my estate one of my men noticed immediately that he had been followed from the docks. So we arranged the meeting in the barn, providing gaps in our defenses so the culprits could easily find an opportunity to kill you if you said yes. Meanwhile we had sent word to the palace and knights began arriving dressed like servants, gardeners, that sort of thing. The place was crawling with armed men just waiting for someone to show themselves."

"And if I had said no?"

"They probably would have shot anyway," Osmond said seriously. "You won't however be going with Rades and neither will Terencio. It's West who sent those fellars and it's West that we need you for."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Bait so we can find West's whereabouts."

Mathex didn't like ships. Most minotaurs did so it was somewhat unusual that he didn't. It seemed like a contradiction also, considering he had designed the ship he now stood on. Or perhaps the difference was that this ship had ice pontoons which was the innovation he had brought around: Iceships. But in the summer the pontoons were removed and the ship stayed as a floating fortress in Athex's Southport. It must be the water and the constant change and balance that made him queasy.

Or perhaps it was the sun or those storm clouds on the horizon. The ground would need a good stiff drink after a week of constant heat. Otherwise it would mean a drought and after Kobalix's Quest and the Ice War up in Kinian, that would likely mean a famine. Indeed there would probably be a famine right now if it weren't for all the merchant ships sent by Empress Gweneleque back in Evicoth.

His thoughts wandered back to the reason he was here, which was to discuss an idea with Admiral Savin. The short, bald man could be seen up near the bow of the ship lecturing a young sailor, but he shouted to the minotaur and hurried over to see Mathex. He smiled down at the old sailor.

Savin grinned and scratched his shaved scalp. "Wal if it ain't a yellow bellied minotaur here to argue with me about ship design! How are ye, Mathex?" laughed the former Stornium pirate, his eyes catching the minotaur's and holding them.

Mathex shook his head, taking his eyes away from Savin's shrewd gaze. "Not this time. I have an idea for a new weapon, but this one I'd like to keep hushed if possible. That way it will be there if an emergency appears. The enemy will never know what hit 'em!"

Savin raised an eyebrow. "Some kind of fancy catapult? Eh?"

"No. Trust me, if it works, they'll never know what hit 'em!"

The Admiral frowned but led the way to his cabin where Mathex outlined the idea and Savin worked his way through it, finally deciding the idea had merit and agreeing to have the weapon installed immediately.