The Crimson Gold

CHAPTER FIVE

22 Mirtul, 1373 DR

Tazi unwillingly opened her eyes, unable to ignore the incessant shaking that disturbed her troubled dreams. She discovered the duergar was hunched over her, shoving her shoulder roughly.

"What is it?" Tazi demanded, squinting from her exhaustion. "Have we got more company?"

Her morose companion simply shook his head and pointed down to one of the distant cages. Tazi foUowed the length of his arm and saw the guards had returned. They moved methodically from pen to pen, rousing all the occupants and forcing them to stand in the aisle. The prisoners scuttled and scurried as best they could to obey the guards' demands. In one pen, however, a woman mewled like a sick cat and could not rise. She waved a weak arm in their direction. The guards exchanged a quick word, and the one closest to her ran her through with his sword. Tazi turned away, digging her nails so deeply into her clenched fists that she drew blood. She felt the dwarf grip her shoulder.

"No," was all he said cryptically.

Before Tazi could say anything else, three guards arrived at their pen and opened the lock.

"Get going," a man Tazi didn't recognize ordered.

Must be the next shift, she thought to herself.

"And no tricks," he warned her. Obviously, they had heard of the previous night's event.

Tazi slowly rose to her feet. It wasn't the first time she had slept on hard ground, but she still ached from her battle with the gnoll. The dwarf, sprang nimbly to his feet. Of course, he didn't expend nearly the same amount of energy that I did, Tazi reflected. Why would he be sore at all?

Silently, Tazi and the duergar marched along and joined up with the rest of the slow moving prisoners. While none of the other slaves were restrained, the guard who had spoken to Tazi bound her hands in front of her. Two guards led the procession, and three surrounded Tazi and her former cellmate as they brought up the rear. Along the way out, Tazi saw that the woman wasn't the only slave not to leave her pen alive. As they passed the first pen, Tazi caught sight of the little girl. She lay in a skeletal heap in the corner, finally overcome by starvation. Tazi stopped so suddenly, the guard trailing her drew his sword.

"Move it," he snarled. Tazi turned around savagely and looked as though she wouldVe ripped the guard's throat out herself, bound hands or not. But before she could make a foolish mistake, the dwarf shoved her along himself.

Once outside, most of the slaves covered their eyes, wincing at the daylight. Tazi found herself blinking a bit at the morning sun, but she didn't mind. The ground was still damp from the morning dew and the rains from the night before. A slight steam rose up from where the sun started to warm the earth. But all Tazi noticed for the moment was how sweet the air tasted. She drew in several deep drafts and felt her head clear. She noticed the dwarf did the same. While they were prodded along, Tazi was now better able to observe their route. The guards were herding them away from the magistrate's building.

Because of the size and ill-health of the group, they couldn't move all that fast. She had time to mentally note much of their surroundings. The guards used less force and no outward signs of brutality to coerce the slaves since they had left the foulness of the stables. They led the group past a series of small shops that were still boarded over from the night before, though a few of the shopkeepers had started to arrive. They stood and watched the* slaves march past, and Tazi was able to recognize the appraising look in their eyes.

They turned left off of a narrow street. The way suddenly widened up, and Tazi found herself standing in an open market square. There were no carts or stalls as far as she could see, though the square was ringed by low buildings. The square itself was devoid of structures except for a raised stage and a podium in the center that was positioned toward the front of the platform. And along one side was a small table and chair.

Two men entered the square from one of the surrounding buildings and stepped up onto the stage. One of the men had a book tucked under one arm, and he seated himself at the table. The other moved over to the podium and waited. Tazi had a sneaking suspicion what the place was all about.

"Auction block," the dwarf said gruffly, confirming Tazi's worst doubts.

"There has to be a way out of this," she whispered back to him.

"Not here," he answered back.

Two of their guards gave them stern looks but did nothing else. Can't damage the merchandise in front of the buyers, Tazi deduced. All they did was direct the group of thirty slaves over to the side of the stage opposite the man at the table. He had set up a strong box next to his book and didn't bother to look at any of the slaves. Just the coin man, Tazi decided. The other one, however, jumped down and gave them all a cursory glance, pausing to stare a little harder at Tazi and, to a lesser extent, the duergar. He nodded curtly at the lead guard and resumed his position on the stage. The lead spoke a short command to another, who quickly trotted back to where they had entered. He disappeared around the corner.

When he returned, he led a different kind of procession.

Treading behind him were fifteen or so well-dressed folk. Most were tall and sallow. Tazi remembered that the barmaid from Laeril's Arms had mentioned something about the people of Mulan blood, and she figured it ran strong in the veins of this group. Tazi cursed herself again for not paying closer attention to the barmaid's words and for not learning more about Thay before she had crossed its borders.

I was in such a rush once I knew what I had to do. That's a mistake I won't make again, assuming, of course, that I ever get out of here, she mused.

The prospective buyers were all well-dressed, sporting fine linen tunics and cloaks. Almost every one of them was bald with more of the elaborate tattoos like the ones Tazi had seen in the tavern. She wondered if the marks were strictly decorative or if there was another use for them, such as familial affiliations or a symbol of rank in their society. Tazi was surprised to see that even a centaur roamed about in the midst of the humans. He had blond hair and a sleek coat that matched. Judging by his well-muscled physique, Tazi surmised that he was no stranger to hard labor. She suspected that he, unlike the others, was not looking for,a house servant, but someone to work a stable or a farm. She was certain that she, and quite possibly the dwarf, would go to him as they were, without argument, the strongest of the lot.

Tazi loathed the thought of what was to come next. A few years ago, before she and her mother had come to a more gentle understanding, Lady Shamur Uskevren would parade her daughter around in front of her cronies and prospective beaus each chance she got. Tazi hated every moment of it because she felt as though she was just a commodity. Little did she know that she would end up exactly that: a piece of meat for others to barter for. Already Tazi could feel the eyes passing over her body, measuring her and weighing her value. She gritted her teeth and stood straighten

I will find a way out of this, she promised herself. Or I will die trying.

The guards were moving some of the slaves onto the stage. As the first, scrawny man stepped up, the Thayan behind the podium motioned for the lead guard to approach. The two conferred, and Tazi got the distinct impression that the announcer was extremely critical of the "merchandise." The guard shrugged his shoulders at the announcer's obvious displeasure. They exchanged a few more words before the guard nodded in agreement. He went back down the steps, collected another man and a woman and returned with them onto the stage. The auctioneer seemed satisfied.

"And what do I hear for this fine group? " he asked of the crowd in a deep voice that belied his slight frame. "Do I hear one hundred? One hundred anyone?"

Tazi turned and glimpsed the merchants murmur amongst themselves. Most wore disappointed looks or ones of distaste.

When no one bid, the auctioneer continued.

"Ninety, then. Ninety and the high bidder will get himself some fine brood stock here." He pointed at the woman's thin pelvis and added, "Good hips for children. Free labor." The auctioneer eventually settled for thirty gold pieces. Tazi shook her head in sorrow, unable to understand how life could go so cheaply. She looked over at the duergar once, but he gave no outward show of any feelings. She wasn't sure how to read his stony visage.

The guards moved the majority of the slaves in groups of two or three. It appeared the auctioneer felt that was the only way the sorry batch would sell, and the guards accommodated his wishes. It was also clear to Tazi that he was saving the duergar and her for last. The prospective owners milled about the square, pointing and chuckling at many of the slaves. Whenever a lot was sold, there was a polite smattering of applause as the "winner" went on stage to pay the man seated at the table with the strong box. They handed over their coins and, in return, received a notice of ownership and a human being. Tazi felt the blood rise to her face.

"Excited?" a guard whispered hotly in her ear. "I imagine you'll bring in more than enough to make up for these wretches."

Tazi turned around and spit in the guard's face. He raised his hand^to strike her, but Tazi stood her ground. One of his comrades moved to stop him. But the guard remembered himself at the last moment and scrubbed at his face instead.

"Enjoy it while you can," he warned her, "because your new master is going to beat the fire right out of you, one way or another. I guarantee you that."

The slighted guard's comrade grabbed Tazi's bound wrists and started to drag her to the stage. She pulled herself free of his grasp and looked around. With nearly a half dozen, armed guards, the men on the auction block and the square of citizens, Tazi knew she realistically didn't stand a chance of escape here. But, she was certain, the time would come when someone would slip up and let their watch down. She would just have to wait for it.

While she struggled with the guard, the duergar squirmed his way over to them. "We're together," he told the guard in a gravelly voice, pointing at Tazi. "Where she goes, I go. So sell us together."

Tazi regarded him with surprise and pleasure. She smiled at him warmly, but was met, once again, with his stony countenance. She thought for a fleeting moment his cold look was for the crowds, but Tazi saw no warmth in his flint gray eyes. She was somewhat puzzled that he had actually tried to pair himself off with her.

Perhaps he feels he owes me for last night, she wondered. Or maybe, after last night, he thinks that there is something special in store for me and he wants a cut.

Tazi didn't have time to contemplate more. One guard pulled the dwarf aside, and another prodded Tazi onto the stage. She walked of her own accord over to where she had seen the other slaves stand. Even though her hair was tousled, her vest torn, and her shoulders gashed from the battle with the gnoll, Tazi was a sight to behold. She scanned the crowd as though she was the one in control, and more than one merchant glanced away from her hard, sea-green eyes. But, for as many that looked down, twice that reviewed her honey-colored skin with greedy gleams in their eyes. The announcer rubbed his hands together, and Tazi noticed he had finally smiled.

"All right then/' he began, "do I hear-"

"One hundred," offered the centaur.

"One hundred gold pieces from the four-legged gentleman. Do I hear one hundred fifty?"

A fat woman with sunken eyes cried, "One hundred fifty!"

"Two hundred," replied the centaur.

"Now it's getting interesting," interrupted the auctioneer. "Do I have two hundred fifty?"

Tazi watched the crowd expectantly, wondering what her price would finally be. A field hand for the muscular horse-man or a maid to be kicked around by a spoiled woman who thinks life has passed her by?

Caught up in her daydreaming, Tazi didn't really notice that the woman with sunken eyes had driven her price up to three hundred seventy five. The auctioneer made his second call and was beginning his third and final challenge when a voice from the far corner of the square called out.

"One thousand anH I will match any other offer."

The buyers turned their heads and even Tazi scrutinized the rear of the throng to see who her new owner was. The younger bodyguard from the tavern stepped forward, clothed in his rich tunic, pants, and cloak. Tazi suspected he would make an appearance, so she wasn't truly stunned.

"Sold!" shouted the pleased auctioneer.

Heraclos climbed onto the stage and approached the treasurer. Tazi watched as he pulled out a heavy sack and started to count out his coins. She chewed on her lip while he did that, her mind working away. As it stood, she was alone. Other than the few informants she had paid before her journey into the Sunrise Mountains, no one knew she was here. While she hated to ask for help, let alone admit that she needed it, Tazi was in a tough enough situation to entertain the idea she just might need someone. She turned toward the dwarf and reassessed her opinion of him. It was true she didn't know him or trust him much, but there had been a few moments where she wondered about his loyalty.

If he wants to escape as badly as I do, then at least he'll be committed to helping a common goal, she thought. Right up until he sells me out for himself. I just hope I'll be ready when he does.

Tazi let the guards press her over to her new owner. He was still counting out the coins, and Tazi realized that if he was willing to pay what was clearly an exorbitant amount for her, he, or his employer, valued her. But did he value her enough to meet one of her demands?

"I know you came here for me," she whispered to her new owner. He paused in his counting to look at her. The treasurer was plainly irritated with the interruption to their transaction.

"Is that so?" Heraclos asked her pleasantly.

"I want something from you," Tazi continued, "and it is within your means. Give it to me."

Heraclos smiled and replied, "You are in a rather precarious position to make demands of me."

Tazi moved in closer and whispered so only he could hear, "You know I can make things difficult. Give me this one thing, and I'll make it easy on you."

"What is it?"

"I want the dwarf to come with me. He's my partner, and I won't leave him behind," she finished and looked at him firmly.

The bodyguard looked at the duergar and the set of Tazi's chin. Tazi was counting on her belief that whoever wanted her, wanted her quickly and not too damaged. She guessed she had been tested for her strength and, having passed the test last night, would not be taxed until she was forced to do whatever it was she had been chosen for. She hoped the bodyguard feared his master enough to concede.

"Fine," he answered. Heraclos returned to the treasurer and said, "Throw the dwarf into the bargain as well."

"But that will be extra," the treasurer insisted.

"Throw him in as a gift for the great price you received for her," he indicated Tazi, not beyond some haggling.

The treasurer wa% about to protest until he saw the tattoos on Heraclos's right forearm. He blanched and dropped his eyes.

"Yes. Yes, of course," he agreed and hastily scribbled out a second writ of ownership. Heraclos collected the documents and gallantly swept his arm out, indicating that Tazi should proceed him. They stopped at the gathering of guards, and Tazi watched as Heraclos spoke to the one in charge. He showed him the paperwork and the dwarf was released into his custody.

As Tazi and the two others exited the square, she turned once to see the auctioneer in a heated argument with the treasurer. When the treasurer pointed to what must have been a name in the record book, Tazi saw the auctioneer grow quiet, and all the color drained from his face.

Just what am I getting dragged into? Tazi wondered.

A few hours later, Tazi stood once again and felt as though she was still being scrutinized. When her entourage had arrived at a rather luxurious inn, the bodyguard led Tazi and the dwarf to a simple, clean room. He released Tazi's wrists and made a point of checking the room's door. Tazi noticed the chamber had no windows, and she was certain that was no accident. Aside from a bed, table and chairs, the only other items in the chamber were a screen and a steaming tub of water.

"Please make certain that you clean yourself. I will re-enter the room with my associate in fifteen minutes to collect you," he told Tazi pointedly.

"I see you were expecting me," she told Heraclos with a nod to the warm water.

"Fifteen minutes," was all he replied.

Nearly an hour later, a much-cleaner Tazi was still standing, and she wondered who was watching her, or if this was simply her new owner's way of reinforcing the fact that everything was on his timetable now. A few feet on either side of her stood a bodyguard. Tazi had briefly "met" Milos, the older servant, when she had tested the door to her room. He had peered menacingly at her from the cramped hallway, and she had slammed the door in his face. Now he and Hera-clos stood passively and bided their time. The only reaction Tazi evoked in them was when she tried to move. Either one or both would draw their scimitars and motion warningly to her with them. Though they rarely spoke, they communicated their message quite clearly. Tazi contented herself to exploring the room with her keen eyes alone.

While her room had been pleasant, if austere, this room was sumptuous and extravagant. Tazi noticed the sheen of silk sheets on the bed, the embroidered cushions on the settee, and the large, carved desk. All were quality items. In front of the wardrobe were several trunks, most likely full of clothes. Her host spared no expense for his needs. Even the servants were well dressed and sporte^ weapons of fine craftsmanship. A lesser blade would nave broken under the assault she gave the night at the tavern. Coin did not appear to be an object. Tazi's mind started to turn.

With all these belongings, my host doesn't like to travel lightly and appreciates his comforts. Probably a touch vain, judging by the obvious opulence.

Scattered on the desk were a few letters and missives. Tazi suspected that her host was fairly well-educated. Not all of the wealthy class or the nobility could read, but Tazi suspected this person could. Desks themselves were not standard furniture in many rooms, because so few folk could use them. Her host would have requested it or was enough of a regular that the innkeeper knew to have it ready. Another piece in her puzzle as Tazi tried to read her owner and discover what he wanted from her. And all the while she was inventorying the room, Tazi was also searching for an avenue of escape. The room seemed ordinary enough, and that made Tazi suspicious immediately.

Too easy, she thought. There has to be more than what meets the eye here. With a soft thud, the door shut behind Tazi. It startled her because she hadn't heard it open. As she turned, Tazi saw both bodyguards bow deeply. She refused to do the same, and the men didn't force her to comply. She got a good look at her owner.

Much like the auctioneer did to her this morning, Tazi gave Naglatha a brief, cursory glance and attempted to sum her up. The woman appeared to be close to her in age, though a touch older. There were no wrinkles on her smooth face to belie her years; it was her black eyes that betrayed her. They seemed older to Tazi, perhaps older than someone twice her own age, with a dark wisdom in them. Tazi also noted the woman was about her height and build, though it was a little difficult to tell with the somewhat concealing clothes she wore. The woman wore a sleeveless,belted tunic that hung to mid-calf. It was split on both sides to allow easy movement. Under that, she sported a pair of lightweight trousers and delicate sandals. She had several rings on her thin hands, and she even had a ring on one of her toes.

But the most striking feature the woman possessed, with the exception of her obsidian eyes, was her rich hair. In a land where Tazi had seen most everyone crop their tresses or completely remove them, the woman standing before her had a thick, black mane. She wore it loose, with a simple band over the center of her head that kept some of the locks out of her eyes. She looked confident, very sure of herself. As Tazi studied her, she was also struck by a sense of familiarity.

I've seen this woman before, she thought and wracked her memories trying to place her. When Tazi finally looked back at her, she could see the other woman smiling at her when Tazi would have expected her to have been appalled and offended at the brazenness of her new slave. She walked past Tazi over to the small table nearby and further surprised her new possession.

"Please," she said in a low, pleasant voice, "have a seat." And she pulled a chair out for Tazi. Bemused, Tazi moved over ana sat down. The woman picked up a decanter and gracefully filled two goblets with wine. She offered one to Tazi.

"I'm sure you're very parched. Have some. Not the best year, but it was the finest this establishment had to offer."

Dumbfounded, Tazi accepted the glass but hesitated to drink. Her owner smiled again at her and raised her goblet in a quick toast before drinking a few sips. Now fairly certain the wine had not been tampered with, Tazi followed suit. The woman nodded to Tazi as if acknowledging the importance of the little ritual. She set her glass back down and drew a chair for herself. Once she was seated, she placed her delicate arms on the table and loosely laced her fingers together.

"Now that you've had an opportunity to refresh yourself," she began, noting Tazi's clean appearance, "let's waste no more time."

"All right," Tazi replied.

"You can't possible imagine my surprise when I saw you in that tavern two nights ago," she explained.

"No, I can't," Tazi answered honestly. She was more puzzled now because she knew this woman and couldn't place her.

"I mean," she offered, "Thay is so very far from Selgaunt. You've traveled a great distance. Doesn't seem like you, really."

"And what would seem like me?" Tazi said, trying to bait her, incredulous that the woman thought she knew her at all.

Naglatha smiled and stretched her arm to stroke Tazi's shoulder-length hair. Tazi flinched slightly at her cold touch, but held her place. She glanced over to where the bodyguards stood. They were staring at the wall as though they were fixtures. But Tazi believed they would strike without hesitation if they thought their mistress was in jeopardy or if Tazi made any sudden moves. So she bore the woman's distasteful touch without saying a word.

"Shorter tresses for one," she astounded Tazi with her knowledge of her former look. "Perhaps a style a bit more boyish and more suited to your favorite activities?"

"Perhaps," a startled Tazi offered.

"I've been following you for years, actually," Na-glatha admitted. "And I have been most impressed with what I saw. I mean, for someone of your relatively few years."

"What impressed you the most?" Tazi asked, convinced the woman and she must have attended one of her mother's many, opulent soirees. "Was it my charming wit or my keen sense of fashion that meant the most to you? " She saw the woman was not troubled by her bantering manner.

"Most definitely it was your keen taste in clothing. Perfect for those late night rendezvous with your young-mage-in-training, jumping from rooftop to rooftop." She smiled more fully at the confusion on Tazi's face.

"Many were the times I considered approaching you in my capacity as a recruiter for the Red Wizards," she told Tazi. "But, rhesitated because I worried about your ability, or lack thereof, to commit to a cause. Actually, I doubted your ability to commit to anything, and that would have been no good to me. But I kept my eye on you.

"Then I heard one day that the little girl had flown from her parent's castle to parts unknown. And when you finally returned home, the great Old Owl, Thamalon Uskevren, had died." Tazi blinked hard at the mention of her father's name. "How things have changed for you, little Tazi," she finished, using Thazienne's special nick name, and allowed her words to sink in.

In a flash of revelation, Tazi realized that she did know this woman from Selgaunt. She had seen her shop along Larwaken Lane more than once. It had been filled with oddities and curios from the South, Tazi remembered. The pieces had been relatively overpriced and gaudy, as Tazi recollected, but the woman's shop had always had a lot of traffic. Now she realized, after the woman's admission, that the business had not entirely dealt with the buying and selling of rarities. She knew something of the Red Wizards.

As she scrutinized her owner's face, Tazi had another recollection. She had barged into her father's study in typical spoiled fashion to demand something of him years back. What it was she had wanted, Tazi could no longer recall and that loss saddened her momentarily. But she remembered that her father had a beautiful, black-haired woman sitting opposite him at his beloved chess table. Tazi had backed away nervously, thinking that perhaps she had interrupted one of his many dalliances. He later told her that the woman was a business acquaintance, but Tazi never pursued the subject with him, preferring not to know the sordid details of his life. Now she realized that same woman was seated opposite her now. Recognition washed over her features.

"Naglatha," she breathed, finally placing her name.

"We are well met, Thazienne Uskevren," she acknowledged in return, and Tazi could see she was pleased with Tazi's memory. She rose from the table and padded over to the carved desk. Tazi watched as she passed her hand over an empty spot on the desk, and a sack appeared suddenly. Tazi shivered, realizing she was the unwilling company of a wizard. She wondered more and more just what it was that she was going to have to do for this woman.

Naglatha came back to the table and Tazi knew she was enjoying the little game. She stood next to Tazi and unceremoniously dumped her worn sack onto the table with a dull, heavy thud. She then resumed her seat and, with bended elbows, rested her chin on her hands.

"Enough of the cat and mouse," she brusquely informed Tazi. "I can see on your face that you realize I want something from you; that much is obvious. I have been looking for the right person for some time now, and fate has conspired to cross our paths. You are that person. Of that I am most certain now.

"This is an important task that is not without risk," she continued, and Tazi crossed her arms expectantly.

"Nevertheless, as the risk is great, the reward is commensurate to it."

"Well, I would certainly hope so," Tazi quipped. "But what could you possibly have to offer me that would be of the slightest interest?"

"Simply put, I can give you your freedom," Naglatha offered.

"I can take that for myself," Tazi said with deadly seriousness. Naglatha chose to ignore the tone of her voice.

"No… no, you can't. And I know the magistrate explained that portion of Thayan law to you most carefully," she responded in a motherly tone of rebuke.

"Then you have no offer to make," Tazi rebutted.

"Oh, but I most assuredly do," she promised. "I have means at my disposal, too complicated to explain right now, to accomplish the impossible task. Let me just put it this way," she told Tazi and leaned back in her chair, "I have the means to 'erase' your name from the ledgers. To, in fact, strike out the entire incident as though it never happened. No crime, no record, no punishment. You will be completely free under Thayan law.

"And," she motioned to the worn sack in front of Tazi, "you can even take your crimson gold with you. Though, I have to admit, it has some interesting properties I am not completely familiar with. Even still, it is yours once more."

Tazi's eyes flickered to the sack for a moment before returning to meet Naglatha's penetrating stare.

"Now," she told Tazi, "you may be thinking as you sit there so comfortably, that you don't need this offer. You may believe that you will find a way to escape on your own." She paused to lean forward a touch. "You may be right. You are a resourceful woman, and I actually have no doubt you could escape. If you couldn't accomplish that simple feat, you'd be no good to me."

"Since you know I will," Tazi promised her, "why bother with the pretense of this offer?"

Naglatha smiled and slowly rose to her feet. She moved gracefully around the table to stand behind Tazi. Tazi could feel Naglatha place her hands on her shoulders with a strong grip and lean down toward her right ear.

"For the simple fact that if you betray me, Thazienne Uskevren, or run away, or even refuse me, you will pay most dearly. You forget, I know where it is that you call home. Don't doubt the extent of my reach. I can always find your family." She released Tazi's shoulders and walked around the table to stand opposite her.

"You have lost one parent, and I know how heartbreaking that can be. Would you care to try for two?"

Tazi lost control of her restraint at the veiled threat to her mother and jumped to her feet, knocking over the small table as she did so. Everything tumbled to the floor with a clatter. Amidst the shinning shards of the now-broken goblets, the red gold spilled out like glowing coals. Before Tazi could make another move, Naglatha's bodyguards grabbed her. She didn't struggle, though Milos^wisted her arms behind her back and held her while Heraclos moved to flank Naglatha. Tazi knew this was not the place.

"I can see I've struck a nerve," Naglatha said in a voice that Tazi realized was only mock apology. "My intent was only to stress a point, no more than that. I am generous by nature, so I will give you the entire night to think on what I've said. With a good night's rest, I'm very certain you will come to the right decision. You may rejoin your mysterious companion now."

Without waiting for a response from Tazi, Naglatha waved her hand to Milos, and their interview was over. As Milos led her from the chamber, Tazi could hear Naglatha ordering Heraclos.

"Clean this clutter up before I cut my feet on something," she snapped at the remaining guard in a much harsher tone than she had reserved for Tazi.

"Yes, milady," Tazi heard Heraclos acquiesce.

While she marched down the hallway to her room, Tazi's mind raced, trying to weigh her options. Either she did this woman's bidding or let her family face some nameless threat. With a dread certainty, she came to the conclusion that she really had no choice at all.