Maquesta Kar-Thon

Chapter 11

Maquesta grabbed a barmaid by the sleeve as she pushed by with an empty tray.

"Where do they take people arrested for not paying gambling debts?" Maq asked.

"Depends," the barmaid said, looking past Maq to the kitchen, as if anxious to pick up her order. "Best place to start is the chief constable's office, on the square." She tossed her hair over her left shoulder as she pulled away, vaguely giving Maq an idea of which direction to travel.

"I know where that is; let's go," Maq said to Fritzen, leading the way out of the inn and through the neatly kept streets of Sea Reach.

Because the island's steep hills crowded down almost to the water's edge, Sea Reach had evolved as an elongated city, strung out along the bay without much of a city center. Toward the western end of the bay, though, where terraced farms had been cut into the hills, stood a small square with a large sundial in the middle. Stone buildings that housed the agencies conducting all the official business of Sea Reach-city clerk, deeds registrar, constabulary hall, mayor's office-ringed the square's well-tended greenery.

"Foolish ass-brained spawn of a misbegotten muckdweller. It'd serve him right to rot in a cell here for a few weeks," Maq sputtered angrily as she stomped up the steep flight of steps leading to the constabulary hall's narrow entrance. "I can't dawdle too long in this town. We've got to be after the morkoth. I've a good mind to leave the muddle-headed ignoramus here and pick him up on the way back. Do him some good."

"Who taught you how to string insults together like that, a kender?" Fritzen asked wryly. "If you feel that way about the gnome, let's just leave him to his fate."

Maq shot her companion a withering glance. "How could you say such a thing? I'd sooner cut off my right hand. He's my friend. And I need him. But I'm furious that he got himself into this mess and that we have to take time to get him out of it. He knows the urgency of our mission."

At the top of the steps, Maq paused a minute to gather her breath, and her wits. Reflecting Saifhum's penchant for order, the constabulary hall dominated the other official buildings. Its massive, square-cut granite blocks reached up four stories, ending in a flat roof that was hidden by a parapet that, Maq was certain, itself hid a contingent of watchmen. If Lendle was being held here, they'd be hard pressed to extract him.

"Wait out here for me," Maq told Fritzen.

"But, Maq-" He began to protest, but she cut him off.

"I know what these islanders are like, and they'll think they know me because I look like them. On the other hand, you would just put them on their guard. And if they're suspicious, they might have someone start following us while we're in Sea Reach, which is a complication we don't need. I'll have better luck getting information alone," Maq explained. "I'll meet you on the square. If I'm not out by suppertime, then you can try to find out what happened."

"Yes, Captain," Fritz replied, making a mocking bow. "You ask, and I humbly obey."

Maq poked out her lips and put her hands on her hips. She opened her mouth to offer a retort, but thought better of it. Instead, she turned on her heels and went inside.

The Maquesta who entered the constabulary hall showed a far different mien than she had displayed on the steps. Suppliant rather than authoritative, Maq approached a tall counter that blocked access to the rest of the building. Behind it sat an officer busily scratching the nib of a feather pen across a long piece of expensive-looking parchment.

"Please sir, would you help me?" Maq asked plaintively.

"State your business," the guard said with an automatic brusqueness, still writing. When he looked up a moment later and saw an attractive young woman in obvious need of help, his manner visibly softened.

Maq smiled sweetly at him.

"My family and I live on the far side of the island, and I came into Sea Reach with one of our servants to visit the market. Only it seems he got himself in some sort of trouble at the Sea Reach Inn. Father will be so cross. Can you tell me how to find him and how to make amends for his offense?" Maq spoke softly, her hands held demurely in front of her. She still had the bags of provisions she and Lendle had purchased earlier, lending credibility to her story.

"Servant, eh?" asked the constable, looking her up and down.

For an instant Maq thought she had told the wrong sort of tale, that the constable wouldn't believe someone dressed as she was could come from a family with servants. But no, there were plenty of simple, hardworking folk on Saifhum, many of whom were wealthy enough to employ several servants.

"What's the servant's name? And is it a man or a woman?"

"Lendle, Lendle Chafka. He's a gnome."

"Gnome! Oh, that fellow. Couldn't miss him. He kicked Officer Rappa when they brought him in, hard, in the shins, yelling about how he had to go win back his stake," the constable said, tapping his pen on the desk. "We don't get many gnomes in Sea Reach-wouldn't ha' thought any lived on the island." A clear note of suspicion had crept into his voice.

"The far side of the island," Maq reminded him quickly, as she batted her long eyelashes. "He hasn't worked for us for long, and if this is how he's going to behave, he won't for much longer," she said, affecting indignation. "Is he here, then?"

"Nope. Can't work off a debt if you're in jail, that's Salomdhi's thinking. We would have locked the gnome up for awhile, but Salomdhi wanted him to come back to his place right away to start working," the officer said approvingly. "When there's money at stake, you'll not see Salomdhi taking a loss, that's for sure."

"Salomdhi?" Maq inquired.

"That's the fellow your servant lost money to in the card game. He's a merchant, the biggest in Sea Reach. Started out with one fruit stand and now he owns half the shops in the marketplace."

"Can you tell me where Mr. Salomdhi lives?" Maq asked. "Perhaps I can talk to him and arrange for my father to send him a payment. Lendle is our servant, after all. If he's going to work for nothing, he can do it for us."

"Sure. Take the street behind the hall and follow it until it ends. Salomdhi lives in a big white house with a red tile roof, the biggest house on the street. You can't miss it," the constable offered obligingly.

Maq had already thanked him and turned to leave when he called out to her.

"Young lady! Good luck in striking a bargain with him-Salomdhi's a tough customer." The officer chuckled, amused at the idea of the uneven match-up between Maquesta and the merchant.

Maq smiled to herself. He hasn't met a tough customer yet, she thought, but he will.

In the square, Fritzen was amusing himself by winging small pebbles at the backs of passersby then quickly turning the other way while they tried to figure out what had hit them.

"Don't you think one of the guards on top of the constabulary hall might spot you doing that? In this city, that could be enough to get you locked up," Maq said admonishingly.

"I live dangerously, and I like it that way." Fritzen grinned as he replied.

"Honestly! First Lendle, now you. I'm surrounded by a crew of juveniles-in behavior if not in age."

A sudden image of her father and Averon wrestling on the deck of the Perechon flashed through Maq's mind. She winced at the memory. With the thought of Melas, her sense of urgency doubled.

"Let's go. I know where Lendle is."

While she and Fritzen walked, Maquesta related what the constable had told her about Salomdhi and Lendle's sentence. Fritzen's eyes lit up at the news of the merchant's wealth.

"Sounds like there might be more to rescue at his house than just Lendle," he said mischievously.

"Fritz! We can't risk it. We have to concentrate on getting Lendle out of there and finding the morkoth," Maq said heatedly. "If you don't see that, maybe you shouldn't be on this voyage."

Suddenly serious, Fritzen reassured her. "I owe a great debt to both your father, for taking me in when the Torado sank, and to Lendle, who nursed me through a dark time." The half-ogre's face clouded as he mentioned those two events. "I am not one to either forget or neglect an obligation. You may rely on me, Maquesta."

Sea Reach was, in truth, not a very big place, and they arrived at the merchant's house quickly. Built near the foot of one of the rugged hills that encroached on the city, the house stretched up and down the street, but was not exceptionally deep. A white stone wall, half again as tall as Fritzen and topped by the same tiles that covered the house's roof, extended from either side of the dwelling until it reached the base of the hill.

Maq and Fritz decided to scout the walled garden before approaching the house's front door. Maquesta knew that though she had bluffed the constable into thinking the gnome was her family's servant, trying the same ploy on the merchant would be more difficult, especially if he had spotted her in the Sea Reach Inn. Fritzen knelt so Maq could climb on his shoulders, then stood up slowly.

"You're very light, you know?" he quipped. "I could carry you all day."

"Shhh!" she scolded. "Someone might hear you."

Peering over the top of the wall, Maq saw an extensive garden consisting of a number of vegetable and flower plots as well as a small cherry orchard. At first, Maquesta could not spot anyone. Then movement at the back of the garden, where it met the hill, caught her attention. She saw Lendle emerge from behind a door that blended into the rugged hillside so well she never would have noticed it if it hadn't opened.

He carried two hoes, a rake, and several other garden tools over to one of the vegetable gardens, where it looked to Maq as if he had already set up a pole on a cart with two wheels and a handle for pushing. Arms like spokes in a wheel extended out from the top of the pole. Despite the precariousness of her position, Maq chuckled. The gnome went about attaching the hoes and various other garden tools to his contraption. It looked as if Lendle were contriving some type of automatic weeding device, with the hoes positioned at just the right height to chop off the heads of the garden's vegetables. Salomdhi didn't know what he was in for.

"You know what I said about your being light?" Fritz whispered. "Forget it. You're getting heavier."

"Shhh!" she scolded again. "I'll just watch for a moment more."

Taking another look around the walled enclosure, Maq thought Lendle was alone, but she couldn't be sure. The place was too big. Even if he were alone, calling out to him would be risky. Sun glinted off the rows of windows that lined the back of Salomdhi's house. Because of the sun's reflection in the glass, she couldn't tell if someone were behind one of those windows, watching the garden.

Pondering what to do, Maq saw a rotund man with slicked-back hair and a prosperous air bustle out of the house. Maq ducked down slightly so her head wouldn't show above the top of the wall. She recognized the man from the card game. The merchant, no doubt Salomdhi, motioned the gnome to come to him, calling his name, "Lendle Chafka!" as if it were a disease. Luckily, the summons brought Lendle closer to Maq's vantage point, so she could listen in on the conversation.

"What's happening?" Fritzen whispered.

"Shhh. I'll tell you in a minute," Maq whispered back.

"No more shhhhs. What's going on?"

She poked her head up again. "I see Lendle. Shhh!"

"I have a business appointment," Salomdhi announced self-importantly. "Here, lift up your pantleg."

Maq didn't hear what response, if any, the gnome made, but she couldn't imagine he was very happy. She raised herself a little higher to get a better view. It looked as if Salomdhi were bending over and attaching something to Lendle's ankle. Maq ducked down again as the merchant stood up.

"There's no way out of this garden except through the house, and the servants will not allow you in," Salomdhi said. "You may as well not bother to think about escape. That charm locked around your ankle will allow me to track you, and I have the only key to unlock it. Of course, you're welcome to try to escape. That will give me your service for many more months. I've needed a gardener for quite some time."

As the merchant disappeared into the hillside cave, Lendle started to trail after him. Before the gnome got to the doorway, though, Salomdhi emerged carrying a burlap sack. The merchant looked around the garden, seeing little evidence of work having been done.

"Remember, I want all three vegetable gardens weeded by nightfall. You can start pruning the cherry trees tomorrow." With that, he left the garden as officiously as he had entered.

When Maq peeked over the wall again, Lendle, momentarily distracted from his plight by the introduction of this new toy, was fingering the ankle bracelet the merchant had put on him.

Maq jumped down to confer with Fritzen, who rubbed his shoulders and feigned a grimace. "The merchant's left," she said. "I don't think there's anyone in the house except servants. It would be easy to get him out, except…"

"Except what?" Fritzen demanded.

"Except that Salomdhi put some sort of charm on Lendle's ankle. Said it would let him track Lendle if he tried to escape."

Fritzen looked doubtful. "That merchant didn't look like the type to have magic charms lying around his house. Maybe it's a trick. Let's get inside first, talk to Lendle. Then we can worry about the trinket. Besides, maybe it's valuable and we'll want to take it along with us."

"All right," Maq agreed. She began climbing onto Fritzen's shoulders again.

This time he offered a weak protest. "I'm not a ladder."

"Just give me a minute," she sputtered. "I can lift myself over the wall by standing on you. But whose shoulders are you going to stand on?"

"No one's," Fritzen said as Maq stood on his shoulders. "Some of us need a helping hand," the half-ogre teased, "while others of us are self-sufficient."

At that remark, Maquesta kicked back at Fritzen, only half in jest, narrowly missing his nose. Looking up at the sky, Maq saw the sun had shifted a bit so there were shadows along the garden wall here that would provide her some cover in case anybody was watching from the house. With her arms braced on the top of the wall, she began to lift herself up and over.

Only when Maq had dropped lightly down to the ground on the other side was she noticed by Lendle. Showing no surprise, he hurried up to her, a scowl playing under his big nose. "Wherehaveyoubeen?" he asked crossly. "DoyouhaveanyideahowlongIvebeenwaitingforyou?"

"Stop right there, Lendle. With all the trouble gambling has caused us recently, I'd think you would have known better than to get involved in a Bounty Hunter game, and then a brawl when you lost," Maq scolded. "We don't have time for this. My father. The morkoth. Remember?"

Lendle at least had the good grace to blush, a deep red suffusing his nutty brown skin, before plunging into his defense. "Ididntlose," he fumed. "Itwasatemporarysetback."

Maq rolled her eyes.

"ThatbaboonSalomdhidoesntunderstandcardplayingetiquette," Lendle complained, warming to his subject. "Hedoesntunderstandhowtogardenorhowtosetupaproperweedingsystem." Lendle grabbed Maq by the hand and began dragging her toward the back of the garden, toward the door she had seen him use.

"But, Maquesta Kar-Thon-" Lendle's speech started to slow, signifying growing excitement on his part. "You must come with me. That fool must understand something." Lendle said, continuing to tug at her hand.

"Hold on a minute, Lendle, I think Fritz is going to be joining us."

A thud against the outside of the garden wall signaled the half-ogre's imminent entrance. Fritzen had taken a running jump at the wall, leaping up as high as he could and using the small purchase his feet found on the vertical surface to push himself higher, so that his hands could grasp the top of the wall. In one smooth movement, he pulled himself up and over, doing a backward flip into the garden and landing easily on his feet.

"Show off," Maq said coolly. Fritzen grinned.

"What about the charm?" he asked.

"It looks as if you have enough charm," the gnome remarked, then resumed dragging Maq along with him.

"Lendle wants to show us something else first," Maq advised him.

Not having seen Lendle's earlier exit from within the hill, Fritzen looked duly impressed when the gnome opened the hidden door. They walked into a cool and spacious cave where Salomdhi stored garden implements, seed stocks, root vegetables, burlap sacks, and the like. It was virtually a gardener's paradise that attested to the merchant's wealth.

"This is what you're so excited about?" Maq asked in surprise. "Lendle, we have to get out of here. We don't have time for this."

"No. No. No, Maquesta Kar-Thon. You've got to see this." Lendle took them to the right rear corner of the cave. He picked up a gardening trowel and ran it along the rough-hewn rock of the walls until he came to an unobtrusive handle cut from the same rock. When Lendle jerked on the handle, Maq saw it was attached to a small, rectangular, metal plate that emerged from the rock as he pulled. Once the plate was pulled all the way out, what sounded like a weight shifting position echoed from within the wall, touching off a series of such shifts.

"Weights and counterweights," Lendle explained briefly. "Very ingenious."

An opening appeared in front of them as a stone door slid to the right. The main cavern received light from the open door to the outside, but the second cave was pitch-dark.

"Wait," Lendle admonished. He bent down, feeling on the floor just inside and to the left of the new doorway and came up holding a lantern. Fritzen struck a flint from a box he spied by a bag of turnips. When the half-ogre held up the lantern, Maq gasped.

A burlap bag filled with gold coins had split at the bottom seam, spilling some of its contents onto the vault's floors. That was the first thing Maq saw. Stacked behind it, extending down the left side of the cave and rising nearly to the roof, stood bag upon bag, also filled with coins, judging by their lumpy silhouettes. Assorted treasure was piled haphazardly around the bags: golden candlesticks inlaid with brilliant rubies, gold and silver bowls and platters, lacquered boxes and chests studded with jewels. Maq flipped back the lid of one. It was stuffed with a variety of gems, sapphires, diamonds, and emeralds.

The other side of the cave truly took her breath away. Metal shields, some inlaid with gold, leaned against the wall, coats of mail piled nearby. Leather weapon harnesses decorated with silver clasps and stiff leather breastplates occupied one corner. Nearby, bundles of swords, some with jeweled hilts, stood on their points, packaged together like sheaves of wheat. Tall spears lay on the cave floor next to a small mound of daggers.

Fritzen strode forward, selected a dagger with a ruby in the pommel, and stuck it in his belt. A pearl necklace found its way into his pouch, as did a small silver case the size of his hand. "We'll need some empty sacks," he stated.

"No!" Maq's tone was sharp. 'This isn't ours to take. We're not thieves."

"Yeah? Well, I expect Lendle's merchant friend didn't come by this stuff honestly. And I'm sure he won't miss a bauble or two." The half-ogre stuffed gold coins into his pouch until no more would fit, then he strode across the small cave and pointed.

"Look at this." Fritz stood by a pile of helmets, fingering something. Maq and Lendle joined him. He was holding an elaborate, horned helm. The horns, long, slender, and curved, looked sharp enough to impale an enemy. Except for strategic openings for the eyes, the helmet would cover the wearer's entire head, front and back. It showed remarkable craftsmanship but was, at the same time, unspeakably hideous. He placed it on his head. "This is the helmet of a warlord, not a merchant," Fritzen said, adjusting it for a better fit, and running his fingers around the outside of it. "I've never seen anything like this."

"Nor should you have seen this one." A deep voice came from the doorway.

Startled, Fritzen and the others whipped around. Salomdhi stood in the entrance to the treasure vault. "Lendle!" he scolded. "What are you doing in here and who are these two with you?" The merchant stamped his foot. "I can see I'm not going to get my money's worth out of you! The constable warned me you might be more trouble than you're worth."

"No, I'd say the lot of them aren't worth much. But they might provide us some amusement," said a larger figure, coming up to stand behind Salomdhi. "And I so need to be amused right now, Maquesta Kar-Thon."

Maq started. The voice sounded familiar. Then the figure pushed Salomdhi aside and stepped into the cave.

"Mandracore!"

The pirate captain known as Mandracore the Reaver stood before her. A half-ogre like Fritzen, he did not stand quite as tall, but he was stockier, more muscular, and he had none of Fritzen's attractiveness. His coarse, broad features were dotted with warts. Maq had never seen his hair; he always wore a scarf tied tightly around his head. A gold earring in the shape of a grinning skull dangled from one ear.

"What are you doing on Saifhum?" Maq asked. She turned to Salomdhi and demanded, "What is he doing here with you? I've never heard of a Saifhum merchant dealing with pirates!"

Behind her Fritzen slid quietly to a bundle of swords. His back to them, he tugged one free and kept it hidden behind his legs.

Salomdhi looked acutely uncomfortable at Maq's accusations. "I-" he began.

Mandracore cut in. "My business carries me into quarters that are no concern of yours, Maquesta Kar-Thon. As to what we're doing in this particular cave-your little friend called us back."

Puzzled, Maq looked over at Lendle. Only then did she notice that the charm around his ankle pulsed insistently with a pale blue light.

"It's just good luck that this time my business dealings give me the opportunity to settle an old score," Mandracore added. "Too bad your father isn't here. I'd rather settle it with him, Maquesta. But you'll do." He snapped his fingers and two shadowy figures stepped up behind Salomdhi, completely blocking the doorway.

Being within the cave put Maq, Fritzen, and Lendle at a disadvantage for starting a fight-unless they could lure the pirates, or at least Mandracore, inside. She exchanged glances with her crewmates and saw they felt similarly stymied.

Salomdhi began backing out of the cave, keeping a wary eye on Mandracore. "What do you mean to do?" Then, apparently not reassured by the look on the pirate's face, he whined, "I want no part of this. I want you all off my property. This is not what your masters are paying me for, Mandracore. There'll be no murders here."

"Just what services are you providing these scum?" Maq asked.

"It's just an honest business transaction," the merchant said defensively. "I rent them this storage space, do some buying and selling on their behalf. I'm paid well. I don't ask any questions. What they're doing is none of my concern." Salomdhi puffed out his chest and stuck up his chin self-righteously. Seemingly fortified by his own rationalizations, he addressed Mandracore.

"You heard what I said-Get out, and take these… these… spies with you!"

With a raised eyebrow, Mandracore signaled his henchman, who each grabbed one of Salomdhi's arms and ushered the merchant into the treasure vault.

"No fat merchant talks to Mandracore the Reaver that way," the pirate snarled, shoving his face to within an inch of Salomdhi's. "Think your hands are clean, eh? Then I've got a little lesson for you. This should be very educational."

With Mandracore half turned away, focused on the squirming merchant, and the other two pirates occupied holding him, Maq saw her chance. She dropped to her knees and grabbed one of the daggers lying on the cave floor. Then she leapt onto Mandracore's back, circling her legs around his waist and her arm around his throat until she nearly cut off his breathing. She scraped the tip of her blade underneath his chin, warning him not to move.

In the meantime, as soon as Maquesta made her move, Fritzen ran a couple steps toward the pirates holding Salomdhi and jumped up, swinging both legs straight out in front of him in powerful kicks that caught the guards under their chins and sent them tumbling backward. They loosened their hold on the merchant, and fell awkwardly on a mound of spilled gold coins. The half-ogre drew the sword down to the larger one's chest and growled, the sound reverberating in the helmet and indicating that the pirate should stay put.

Freed from their grip, Salomdhi turned to run but was tackled around the ankles by Lendle, who then expertly flipped the merchant onto his stomach, twisting his arm behind him, inflicting enough pain to keep the man motionless but not, unfortunately, silent. Salomdhi, unused to physical distress, began screaming that his arm was about to break.

The other pirate knocked down by Fritzen had regained his feet and was circling the half-ogre with long, twin daggers drawn.

"Stay back," Fritz warned, "or I'll slit your friend's stomach as if he were a pig at the slaughterhouse, and his blood can wash all these pieces of gold."

Undaunted, the standing pirate laughed and circled closer. Fritz, frustrated, balled his fist and struck the downed man hard in the face, knocking him out and breaking a few of his teeth in the process.

Maq, still on Mandracore's back, didn't like the situation. Though the pirate facing Fritz was a human, and quite a bit smaller, he seemed agile and practiced, a potentially deadly foe.

"Tell him to drop the daggers!" Maquesta barked at Mandracore, pressing the flat of her borrowed dagger against his throat. The pirate clenched his jaw closed, refusing. "I'm not kidding!" Maq turned her dagger, pressing the point into the soft underside of his chin until a trickle of blood appeared. "Tell him!" she ordered.

"Yega!" Mandracore called in strangled tones. "Drop your daggers." Such was the fear-driven obedience that the Reaver commanded from his crew that the pirate obeyed his order immediately. Fritzen picked up the daggers, sticking them in the sash at his waist, and pointed to the ground.

"Lie down next to your friend!" Fritzen commanded. Again the words reverberated inside the helmet. Shaking his head, he pulled the thing free and dropped it on the ground. "How could anyone wear something like that?" he whispered to himself.

"Lendle, do something about that noise!" Maq sputtered as Salomdhi continued to wail. Lendle tore a strip from the bottom of Salomdhi's silken tunic, and to the merchant's obvious indignation stuffed it in his mouth, muffling the noise, though not completely stopping it. The merchant broke out into a cold sweat and squirmed harder.

"Slowly now, let's walk into the other part of the cave," Maq ordered as she tightened her grip on Mandracore's back. "Yega and the other one first, with Fritzen following, then Salomdhi and Lendle. We'll save the best for last, Mandracore." Maq assumed there would be rope in the first section of the cavern, rope they could use to tie up Salomdhi and the pirates. Then they would need to get back to the Perechon as quickly as possible. The charm on Lendle's ankle was still blinking. She didn't know if it was summoning anyone else to the merchant's compound, but she didn't want to take the chance.

Yega dragged the unconscious pirate to his knees and began pulling him like a sack of potatoes, angling him toward the outer cave. He threw Maq a look of icy contempt as he went. Just as the men were inside the entrance, Maquesta's eyes grew wide.

"Fritzen! Look out!" The warning came too late for the half-ogre. Mandracore had stationed a third pirate to keep watch in the garden while he and the others accompanied Salomdhi inside. That pirate, wielding a curved saber, now lunged at Fritzen from just outside the treasure vault's sliding door. Fritz ducked away at the last minute, but the blade still caught him solidly in the shoulder, causing him to wince in pain. The halfogre brought his purloined blade up to parry, catching the next slash and easily deflecting it, but he was stunned from his injury.

This gave Yega an opening. The pirate darted away from Fritzen, in toward his armed companion and pulled a dagger free from his belt. Now the two stood facing the half-ogre, and they moved in closer.

"Lendle! Go help him-I'll watch the merchant." Though Lendle was a skilled fighter, Maq was afraid if she went to Fritzen's side Mandracore would be able to overwhelm the gnome. Therefore, Mandracore was her responsibility, and hers alone.

Before the third pirate could strike at Fritzen again, Lendle leapt forward. The gnome dashed underneath the half-ogre's blade and swung out with a small gardening trowel, slashing the pirate's leg and causing him to howl. As the pirate bent over to inspect his wound, the gnome jumped as hard as his stubby legs allowed, thrusting the trowel at the pirate's chest. The point plunged through the man's colorful garb, finding his heart. He pitched forward, a glassy expression on his face. At the same time, the pirate with the dagger pressed forward, trying to slice at Fritzen's stomach. Still off balance, Fritzen was able to hold on to his borrowed blade, but the saber wound prevented him from using his right arm. Seizing the advantage, the remaining pirate jumped at the half-ogre. Fritzen rolled to the side, striking out with his good arm, bringing his sword up under the pirate's ribs until the tip of the blade passed out his back. The pirate fell, with a wounded Fritz practically on top of him. The last pirate, finally regaining consciousness, crawled toward his fallen comrade's saber. But Lendle hopped between the pirate and the weapon, holding him at bay with the small trowel.

"Dropitrightnow!" the gnome shouted.

The pirate looked at Lendle waving the bloody gardening tool, glanced at Mandracore, and pitched the dagger to the cave floor.

"Now, down on your belly," Lendle added, slowing his speech to make sure the pirate understood. When the pirate complied, the gnome sat on him and looked over at Fritzen. "You all right?"

The half-ogre groaned and pulled himself off the dead pirate. He looked at Lendle and grinned sheepishly. "So you can do more than cook," he jested. Then his eyes squinted in pain and he glanced at his shoulder.

Only the point of Maquesta's dagger and the certainty that she would use it kept Mandracore still. Salomdhi, on the other hand, slowly got to his feet and stood paralyzed by fear and horror, not even bothering to take the makeshift gag out of his mouth. His wide eyes took in the bodies and the blood.

"Lendle, tie up that pirate you're sitting on, and Salomdhi, too. Then help me with Mandracore," Maq directed. "Fritzen, how are you? Press down on that wound!" The half-ogre was sitting with his back propped against the wall, holding his bleeding shoulder.

"I'm doing what I can, Maquesta. I've lost some blood, but I'm better off than those two." He raised his arm in the direction of Mandracore's dead pirates. "I'll be able to make it back to the Perechon."

Maq slid down Mandracore and pulled his hands behind him, tying them with a piece of strong hemp. She jostled him to his knees, then shoved him forward. He turned his head to the side just in time so his nose didn't hit the stone floor.

"This gives me another score to settle with the Kar-Thons," he said bitterly. "I guess I'll be taking that account up with you from now on, now that Melas is out of the picture," Mandracore sneered.

"What do you know about my father?" Maq asked sharply. "What have you heard?"

"I have friends in Lacynos," the pirate replied. "I know Melas is living on a temporary stay, pending your return-and provided you're successful."

Maq frowned, troubled that the Reaver should know the purpose of the Perechon's voyage. "Do your masters in Lacynos have anything to do with that treasure and weapons cache in there?" Maq asked, trying to puzzle out a connection.

"I didn't say masters, I said friends," the pirate answered harshly. "I have many interests, and in this instance my friends' interests and mine coincided in a way that is filling my purse," Mandracore added, enjoying Maq's discomfort.

"Well, my interests don't extend to solving riddles posed by vermin like you," Maq said, standing up. The pirates and Salomdhi were now all securely bound. Maq went to stand over the merchant, who was shaking and sweating and appeared to be going into shock.

"I've never seen anyone killed before," he whispered up at Maq.

She looked at him disdainfully. "I suspect your honest business dealings have set you on a path to witness many things you haven't seen before-and won't want to. Now, where's the key to Lendle's ankle charm?"

The merchant motioned his head toward his vest. In an inside pocket, Maq found the key. She removed the charm, a small disk of smooth gray stone embedded with white rings that continued to flash.

"Where did you get this?" she asked. Salomdhi nodded his head toward Mandracore, who smirked back at Maquesta. Knowing she would get no information from the pirate, Maq dropped the charm on the ground. "Maybe it will help someone find you."

"Let's go," she said, turning to Lendle.

Maq helped Fritzen up and supported him as they walked out of the cave.

"Till we meet again, Maquesta," Mandracore called out as she closed the hillside door.

As they walked through Salomdhi's house, Lendle pulled a strip of linen off the dining room table and tied it around Fritzen's wound, trying to stanch the flow of blood. The trio could feel eyes watching them, but not one servant made an appearance or tried to stop them.

"You're a dangerous lady to be around," Fritz said jokingly to Maquesta as they reached the street.

"I thought you said you liked to live dangerously," she replied. Her tone was light, but her face showed concern. "We have to get back to the wharf and out to the Perechon as fast as we can. I have a feeling it won't be long before help arrives for those scum."

"I need to make one quick stop while we're at the wharf," Fritz said. "I've a pearl necklace in my pocket that will pay off the debt to my friends. Think of it as your comrade Mandracore buying your new sails."