(by Laura Lulli and Janice Cox)

In Comyn Tower:

"...think that we can start charging batteries tomorrow night." Damien nodded in satisfaction at the long row of uncharged batteries lined up on the central table of the matrix chamber.

"You think we can do it? With only six of us?" Elorie looked at thebatteries doubtfully.

"We can, but I wouldn't count on lighting all of Thendara anytime soon. Still, it will be good practice, and should keep us from stumbling around in the dark quite so much. With any luck--" he stopped in surprise as a small hand tugged at his tunic.

"Where's momma?" It was the little boy Kyril, his face still crinkled with sleep.

"Well, we don't know, Kyril. But we're going to try to find her, I promise." Keeping himself tightly barriered against his young charge, Damien added mentally, *I've got a few things to say to that woman.* Smiling, he knelt in front of the boy and playfully tugged at the boy's well-worn clothing. "But in the mean time, why don't we see if we can't

find some better clothes for you? Elorie, I think we're done here for the day. Why don't I take our young guest and see that he's properly attired?"

"That sounds like a fine idea," Elorie agreed. "Would you like some new clothes, Kyril?"

Kyril looked down at his tattered brown pants and dull green shirt, then up at Damien's finely-tailored dark blue breeches and grey tunic.

"For me?" His seemed surprised. "But I have clothes."

"Well, most of us have more than one set," Damien said gravely. "So we can wash the chocolate stains out of the other set."

"More chocolate?" The boy asked hopefully.

Damien laughed. "We'll see."

It was late afternoon, and the streets of Thendara were filled with tradesmen, shoppers, travelers, and general gawkers who wanted to take advantage of the day's warm weather. To Damien, who had been away from Thendara for a *very* long time, it was quite a sight. To Kyril, born and raised on these streets, it was nothing new, and the boy focused instead on the wonder of getting food from the stalls whenever he asked for it.

Two hours later they stopped in front of a small, neat shop. They had found a tailor who had been warmly receptive to making clothes for one of the Comyn, and Damien hadn't bothered to explain to the man that the little boy wasn't actually his. The delight on Kyril's face had been well worth the effort, and the boy now positively strutted down the street in the new clothes that the tailor had found for him. More would be delivered to the Castle tomorrow, the man had promised, and afterward they had wandered around until their feet began to hurt.

"Well, I think it's time we were heading back," Damien said. "Kyril, why don't we--"

Kyril was staring into the shop, his fingers pressed against the glass windows, his eyes wide with fascination. Damien glanced through the window, and saw with an amused grin what was drawing Kyril's attention.

"Chocolate? Kyril, you can't possibly be hungry."

"Uh-huh. Oh, please? Momma always said mestra Leisha's chocolates were the best in Thendara. A man brought her some, once, but she wouldn't let me have any. Can I have just one piece, please?" Kyril tried the soulful look that had been successful more than once already. Damien laughed.

"All right. But just one." He ruffled Kyril's hair. "And then we have to get back."

"Okay!" Kyril darted through the door, only to stop and stare in wonder at the wonderful delights all around him...

When Leisha saw the little boy running through the door, heading REAL quick towards the chocolate shelf, she felt suddenly weary, and thought "Oh my...another little thief. No feathers this time though...".

Her fears were swept away soon after, when she cast a glance at the entrance, and saw another person, an ADULT one this time, coming in, Comyn written on his faces.

Leisha recognized him...he was that Elhalyn guy, the one from the Ages of Chaos, whom she had seen briefly, before being thrown out the Crystal Chamber with Mabry.

She checked if the shelves were still in their place, and sighed, before addressing to the Comyn Lord:

"S'dia shaya, vai dom. How can I help you and this little friend of yours?"

In the meanwhile, the kid seemed busy with eating as much chocolate as he could put in his mouth, large waves of satisfaction coming from him.

How could he cast his feelings so efficiently? He was way too young to have a laran so gratly developed.

Leisha missed Lord Elhalyn first words: ".....I'll pay for everything"

"Sorry, I'm afraid I wasn't listening...would you mind repeating, please, vai dom?"

"Of course, Mestra. I said that you don't need to worry about Kyril. He was needing chocolate... very badly, and I know I should teach him to behave, but for the moment..."

"...you'll pay for everything. Thank you dom Elhalyn" she stopped, and decided she could ask him.

"Would you mind answering a question, dom?"

"Not at all, Mestra Leisha. I'll be happy, indeed", was the polite reply.

"I had been working at Arilinn, for a period, and I didn't lose the habit of rising my barriers...but I couldn't help feeling the great laran of this child. A son of the Comyn, undoubtedly. But how does he happen to have already developed his potential?"

Damien blinked in surprise. A woman of the Comyn, become a Sister of the Sword? She had the shorn hair and trousers of one of the Sisterhood, and the soft brown hair of a commoner. But now that he focused on her, he could feel the presence of her own laran. "It's true that most laran gifts appear only at adolescence, mestra. But some few of us receive our gifts much earlier; I myself cannot remember *not* reading minds. In every such case I have ever seen, however, both parents were Comyn of exceptional ability."

Leisha could clearly see and feel dom Damien's surprise. *A lady, among the Amazons?!?* Well, no doubt he was shocked. Someone else had been.

"Oh, I see. I've never met anyone that showed laran so early before. I myself got my gifts only at the age of eleven. And nowadays we seem to get ‘bits and pieces' more than gifts in full measure like your young boy has." Leisha replied.

"So I am given to understand. I'm afraid that at this age it's more of a curse than a blessing, but that should change with time." He smiled down at the little boy, who grinned in response through a mouthful of chocolate. "Kyril, you will make yourself sick."

"Oh, no." Kyril shook his head. "I feel fine." He started to wipe his chocolate-coated hands on his new trousers, then hesitated.

"Here," Damien said, drawing out a small cloth. As he wiped the worst of the stains from the small boy's hands and face, he continued.

"Kyril's mother worked as an ‘entertainer' at the Fatted Calf. I suppose it's possible that she herself was a nobleman's nedestra. She might know for certain, but no one has seen her in more than a tenday."

"My momma went away," Kyril assured Leisha solemnly.

"What was her name?" Leisha asked. "I certainly don't know any of those women well, but I might have met her, if she's been in Thendara for a long while." Her distaste for the women who would so degrade herself was evident on her face and in her voice. "A nedestra Comynara as a prostitute? She must have been mind-blind, undoubtedly! How could any laran gifted woman do something so dreadful to herself?" Leisha was shocked, and her Oath came flooding into her mind. "...not to earn your bread on any man's lust". She should have said simply "any woman," Leisha realized belatedly, not just a comynara. She smiled down at Kyril affectionately. *Poor lad. Whatever his mother was, it certainly isn't his fault.*

"My own experience in such matters is remarkable limited, but I would have to agree." Damien said dryly. "Kyril says she was called Lenni. I've no idea if that's her given name, or her professional one. No, you don't need any more chocolate, Kyril." Damien restrained the little boy, who was looking longingly at the neat pile of chocolate-covered berries.

"We'll take some with us for later, all right?" That seemed to cheer the little boy, who nodded eagerly. To Leisha, he added, "I apologize again for his manners. Kyril's gone hungry too many times, and I'm afraid it's made him a little over-eager. He'll settle down once he realizes that he won't go hungry again."

"I've seen children like him before," Leisha agreed. "He's lucky to have been taken in by the Comyn. If he'd been a commoner, I doubt he would have been. Avarra knows we have enough of them starving in the streets." The woman immediately looked uncomfortable, and began to wipe away some of the sticky fingerprints Kyril had left behind.

"He would have, but only because I was the one of the ones to find him and I have an alarming habit of collecting strays. We Comyn as a wholedon't do very well by some of our subjects, I fear." At his words theSwordswoman seemed to relax.

"An adult is responsible for her own fate, but I hate to see the children punished for the actions of their parents. May I ask what will happen to Kyril?"

"We'll find a suitable foster home for him." More softly, he added, "I doubt that his mother knew who the father was, or she would have approached him herself. Fortunately, a gift such as his will draw the attention of one of our noble families." They both looked down at Kyril as a sudden rush of fear seemed to sweep the room.

"You're going to send me away, too?" His eyes very big, Kyril grabbed one of Damien's hands and squeezed it imploringly. "I'm sorry I was bad. Please don't be mad at me." A single tear trickled down his face and

Leisha took a step backward, choking on an involuntary sob. Damien knelt quickly in front of him.

"Kyril, we only want what is best for you. No one will throw you away, I give you my word. Now, what did we talk about last night?" The sudden change of subject seemed to distract the boy, and the grief filling Leisha's shop began to subside.

"About walls. Walls between people." Kyril whispered softly.

"And what were you going to try to do? Where's your wall, Kyril?"

"It fell down. I'm sorry, poppa. Are you very mad at me?" Tears abruptly threatened to spill from his eyes a second time.

"No, I'm not mad. Keeping up those walls takes a great deal of practice. But you have to try for me, all right? Now, I want you to apologize to mestra Leisha. Do you see how sad you made her?"

Leisha sniffed audibly as the little blond haired boy whispered a humble apology. "Well, that's all right, Kyril. You keep practicing, and you'll get much better. We all do." At her words he seemed to brighten noticeably, and blushed furiously as the Renunciate bent and kissed Kyril on the cheek.

"We'll take our leave, before we cause another catastrophe," Damien said lightly, laying a small stack of coins on the counter.

"I haven't heard of this woman, dom Damien, but I'll ask around. One of my customers or my sisters may have heard of Lenni, or might know where she has gone. My sisters travel a great deal, and if she has moved to another city, we should be able to find out for you."

"I would be much in your debt, mestra. It may be that Lenni did not intend to abandon her child, and is trying to return to him. In any case, it would ease both our minds to know what happened." Damien swung the little boy up into his arms. "Again, please accept my apologies for the disruption. If you need to reach me, send a message to Comyn Tower."

Leisha bowed her head politely. "S'dia shaya, vai dom. I will do what I can."

That evening, in her room, Leisha was still thinking about the Elhalyn man, and of that lovely little boy hanging onto his hand. The two of them seemed to be fond of each other, and the Renunciate was pretty sure that she had caught delight in Damien's eyes, when Kyril had called him "poppa".

Leisha decided she definetely liked both the men (she was sure little Kyril thought of himself like one). And Damien was a man whom she felt she could trust completely. The second one she met, in the last few days.

Now, that Lenni...whom she could ask to?

Not to Mestru MacEwan, for sure. His Verrin Hawk was far too a respectable inn for him to make acquaintance of..uhm..entertainers. Her sisters weren't even to be questioned. Half of them would shudder at the mere idea of knowing one of those women, and the other half would simply not admit it.

What was left? She didn't like much the idea of herself going out and asking question to people, in that particular zone of the Commercial Town, but there seemed to be no other option. Of course she couldn't go there during the day, because of the Sweetshop and because most of the people she would probably ask usually sleep during the day...and work at night.

Leisha didn't tell any of her sister what she was up too. "They are going to stop me, for sure! And they are probably right, too...". But she had decided, and was too stubborn to step back on her paces, so she exited the Guildhouse bravely and found herself in the damp night.

She walked quickly in the deserted streets of Thendara, and soon reached the zone she had been heading for. She thought of taking a look to those dirty inns and she choosed the first one she encountered. It was called The Dirty Girdle. Every single person in the room was looking at her. Suspicion, hate, lust...she tried hard to enforce her barriers...the best of all the emotions she was subjected to was simple curiosity.

Bravely, she ignored the growing feeling of nausea, and she directed her (unsteady) feet towards the bar.

"A beer," she told the bartender.

"Are you sure you're old enough, chiya?" smiled the bartender.

"Mind your own business, give it to me, OK?" she said softly, and smiled back.

"Oho! We are touchy, aren't we?" laughed the man "Right! Here's your beer, chiya"

Leisha sipped the beer, and stood silent.

"I don't think that you sisters come very often in a place like this, am I right, chiya?" the bartender was staring at her.

"So what?" Leisha stared at him, too.

"Nothing. I was simply asking myself what a nice girl like you may be looking for in this particular zone of the Commercial City"

"Maybe it's going to be easier than I thought" Leisha said to herself. She said aloud, not enough to be heared in the whole hall, "I'm looking for a woman"

The man seemed deceived. "Oh, I see. So you are a menhiedris, are you?"

That was an idea. It could be safer to pretend this! Leisha wasn't going to contradict him.

"This is not your business. The only thing you need to know is that her name is Lenni, and that I need to meet her."

"Well, if this is the only thing I can do for you...I heard this name once, but I've never known this woman. I bet Kialla knows her, though."

"Kialla?"

"Kialla, the mistress." ended the man. "You'll find her easily. Just ask of the Golden Peacock"

Leisha finished her (dreadful) beer, thanked the bartender with a blink of her big brown eyes, and went out of the inn. The street was almost as dirty as the inn itself, but at least the air was clear, and she could breath right again.

She was so happy of this first clue she had found, that she didn't realized that someone was now following her.

The man stepped out of the shadows and followed the renunciate as she left the Dirty Girdle. She'd been asking questions that were better left unanswered, and he'd received very clear instructions as to what to do if that happened. Arlen hadn't thought anyone would come looking for the whore, but that one wasn't a man to take chances. Still, it was a pity.

A broken-down whore was one thing, but killing a pretty young renunciate would be such a waste.

Maybe he could have a little fun first.

Leisha pushed open the door to the Golden Peacock open, and was

instantly assaulted with the smells of perfume and stale bodies. Two

men, obviously laborers for the Terrans, leered at her as she stopped in

the doorway. From the bar in the corner three others looked over at her

with drunken interest.

"Well, well. Fresh meat. Come on over here, girl. Kialla! I've changed

my mind." Rough laughter erupted from everywhere in the small, dirty

bar.

From the outside it looked like the Golden Peacock must be a good-sized

tavern, but Leisha realized with a pang of fear that it was actually

quite small, with only the one exit and a stairway leading up to what

were undoubtedly brothel rooms. If there was a back door to this

dreadful place, Leisha couldn't see it. The man who had spoken now

stumbled drunkenly to his feet and staggered toward her. Leisha put one

hand on her sword hilt in warning.

"I'm not here for any trouble. I only want to speak to mestra Kialla."

"She's not here right now. Come and make yourself comfortable with us,

chiya. We'll keep you occupied until she returns."

Leisha didn't need laran to know that the man was lying, or what he had

in mind to keep her 'occupied.' She took a step backward. *Perhaps I

shouldn't have come here alone. Or without telling anyone where I was

going.* One of the several men now crowded in front of her rubbed

suggestively at his trousers, and she took another step backward, only

to bump into a broad-shouldered man who was just entering the room.

"No one told me we were having a party," the man behind her rumbled. He

looked down over her shoulder to her bodice, which suddenly seemed far

too form-fitting. "Kialla!" He roared. "I'll pay you double whatever

your asking price for this one." The big man's voice seemed to shake the

rafters, and a few seconds later a stout and gaudily dressed woman came

down the staircase.

"What's all this racket? My girls need to be able to concentrate.

Merrill, if you've gotten drunk again--"

"Not I," the big man assured the woman. "But I just might after I have

my pleasure. How much for this one, Kialla? And how did you get her to

look so much like a renunciate? That adds something special to it." He

traced one finger lightly down Leisha's off arm...

Leisha turned rapidly, knife in hand, though that bear-like man, smelling like Zandru's hairy ass [Yes, Leisha has a very trivial language, when she's in trouble! <g>], couldn't say how it had arrived there.

"Listen, you grezuin! You'll keep your dirty hands off me, or I'll cut a part of you that you're going to miss very much" hissed the Renunciate, while tracing a thin blood line on the man's wrist. The bear cried, more for the surprise, then for the pain.

A sort of respect raised in the drunk heads of the men in the Golden Peacock.

If that woman could fight, it would probably be even more fun to have her in a bed. They weren't going to give up such an occasion.

"HEY! What the hell are you doing, chiya! Keep your knife in its place! I don't want any weapons here" Kialla roared. Then she stared in anger at the whole audience, to make clear to every single man what she meant.

"Strange" thought Leisha, "they seems ready to obey her"

"Now, you damned girl! What do you want from me! Why the hell are you trying to mess my tavern up?" Kialla shouted at Leisha.

The girl felt like laughing madly (no doubts a hysterical reaction): she couldn't fear Kialla, after what she had just gone through.

Trying to control her voice, she said: "I've been told that you have the information I need. I came to talk with you."

"No need of a knife, then" Kialla grumbled "Follow me. I'll answer to your questions in a calm place"

And she headed upstairs, Leisha behind her.

One the stairs they were passed by a young girl of no more than twelve,

leading a grizzled and unwashed man by the hand. Leisha had remembered

seeing her downstairs, and had wondered what madam would dare to leave

her daughter so unprotected. Now the answer was clear. As they stepped

out onto the second floor the girl, with a dull, expressionless face,

opened one of the doors and gestured for the man to precede her inside.

Beside her, Leisha could see the madam Kialla nod in satisfaction.

"That's more like it, Lilla. See that you show mestru Aldrin a proper

time, now, if you want to keep working here."

"Yes, domna," the girl replied softly, as she shut the wooden door

behind them.

"She's quick enough to eat her share," the woman grumbled, "but not so

quick to earn it! Never mind that now. I suppose this room will do."

She opened a door three doors down, and gestured for Leisha to go in.

"Don't be afraid, girl! You're a real Free Amazon, or my name's not

Kialla. I'll not tie you up and drug you for my use."

Leisha nodded, although she could see the woman's regret that she

couldn't do precisely that. "Thank you for your time, mestra Kialla."

Leisha walked into the room.

It was a small, drab room, consisting of a bed, a small table with a

wash basin on top, a single chair, and a small fire in the fireplace

along one wall. There was a single window, which was barred. The place

looked nasty, and yet somehow sad. *And men come here for affection, and

relief. Ugh! Sometimes I think I will never understand them.* The madam

pulled the chair toward the bed and sat down heavily on it, patting the

mattress beside her chair.

"Come, sit down and tell me what you want. We don't stand on formality

here." She smiled. It wasn't a pleasant sight. "The only thing that

stands at attention here knows precious few manners at all."

"I am here looking for a woman who may work for you. Her name is

Lenni." Leisha leaned against the wall, rather than risk her trousers

on the rumbled and stained sheets.

"Lenni? Merciful Avarra, what has that brat gottten herself into now?"

"You know her, then?"

"Oh, I knew her well enough. Took her in off the streets when she was

only a child. What a little beast she was then! No manners, and precious

little common sense. I taught her everything she knew. And how did she

repay me? By leaving my place, as soon as she'd found half a dozen

regular customers!" Kialla frowned deeply. "Some people have absolutely

no gratitude."

"Then she's not working here any longer?" Leisha's heart sannk. "Do you

know where she went, mestra?"

"Oh, I might have heard something. But everything here has a price, my

girl. Why should I help some stripling of an Amazon?"

*Certainly not out of the goodness of your heart. I doubt you even have

one, you fat sow.* "Because she is wanted by influential people, people

who may be very grateful to find her. *Very* grateful," Leisha replied

calmly.

"So, it's like that, is it? Well, she wasn't a thief when she worked

here! You tell your high-and-mighty lord that, if he thinks I'm the one

to blame! Any man who lies down with a woman for pay had best look to

his own pocket, every goose knows that."

"I'm sure he won't blame you," Leisha reassured the woman. "And he

would be so very grateful..."

"Wouldn't be the first time I've had Comyn coin. Or Comyn man, for that

matter." Kialla preened. "Then you tell him I gave the girl to you, all

right? I had one of my boys check, after she walked out. Little slitch

went to work at the Fatted Calf. You want her, you try there."

"Thank you, mestra." Leisha started to walk toward the door.

"Wait." Kialla nodded her head decisively. "There's something else. She

left a trinket behind. Not very valuable, mind, but it might help you

find her." Kialla rose and waddled to the door. "I'll have it in a

moment."

Leisha waited impatiently, eager to be out of this awful place. From

the rooms on both sides of her she could here the sounds of activity

that made her feel embarassed, as though she'd been caught peeking into

someone's bedroom.

"Here it is!" Kialla came back, and pleased look on her heavy features.

"I knew I'd kept it for a reason." She handed Leisha a silk scarf.

Leisha looked at it curiously. It was finely made, probably for some

Comyn Lord. Deep blue, it had the initials "PD" engraved along one edge

and smelled faintly of perfume. It looked very old.

"Kept it with her all the time," Kialla explained. "Then the girl left

in such a hurry that it got caught in the door on her way out." Kialla's

expression suggested that the girl had been pursued at the time.

"Thank you again, mestra. I'm sure this will be useful." Stuffing the

cloth into a pocket, Leisha hastily left the room and nearly ran down

the stairs.

Back in the street again, Leisha thought that she had been lucky. Her knife (and Avarra herself, she bet) had protected her form all those men. She sent a grateful thought to her Oath Mother, for insisting that much on her ability in handling weapons.

She was walking again, alone, heading for the Fatted Calf, where she supposed she would find more hints about Lenni, thinking in the meanwhile about the "PD" initials *Comyn, D...Di Asturien? Delleray?!? Naah!* ...when she suddenly felt her hairs lift on the nape of her neck. Danger!

Someone was behind her, probably he had been following her since the Dirty Girdle!

Of all the stupid things....what did she had in mind, when she had decided to go there alone!

She tried to stay calm. Now that she knew that she was followed, she must take advantage of this...the man should for no reason know that she knew.

She tried frantically to find a way to flee, to disappear in the shadows, and like the stupid she was, she turned to see how distant the man was.

The man was right behind her, a few meters from her. As he saw Leisha turning, he started to run towards her.

"Oho! Seems like the girl has realized that I'm here...this could be even more interesting!" thought the man. "I wonder if a little dagger can harm her enough without spoiling the fun I'm going to take with her!"

The Amazon forgot every caution, gave a short cry, and started to run, too.

She heard a hiss, and an acute pain in her right shoulder. Then she tried to run faster, but as she turned again to see if the man was about to reach her, she knocked in another man.

He put his hand on Leisha's mouth, and murmured "Don't worry", then she pushed her around the corner of a narrow lane, and went to take care of the chaser.

Suffocated noises were heard, then the street got quiet again.

In the lane, Leisha fell on her knees, unable to think clearly. The stress have made the pain lighter, but now she could perceive it more intensely.

Besides...who by Avarra could be that dark man that had saved her? Why had he decided to help her?

The black dressed man reached Leisha in the narrow lane, cleaning his knife with an handkerchief. He sat by Leisha and without a word ripped her shirt on the right shoulder.

"Zandru's hells!" he cursed "It has got deep. Be strong, sister, I'm going to hurt you." And he quickly draw out the knife from her shoulder.

Leisha cried, briefly, but the man had already extracted (from nowhere) a sort of bandage, and knowing hands were healing her shoulder.

Angrily drying rebel tears from her cheeks, Leisha asked:

"Who are you? Why are you doing this for me?"

A teasing smile appeared on the man lips "Do you mean that you still don't recognize me? Then my disguise is better than I thought. I'm Derik, Leisha."

Her eyes opened wide, Leisha smiled back to him

"What the hell were you doing around here?"

"It's a long story...and besides, _I_ should ask the same question to _you_!

By the way, I had a sort of feeling that someone could need me, right here, right now..." another smile "I'm kidding: I bet someone loves you in the overworld! It was just damned luck"

Derik helped Leisha to get up from the pavement, and sustained for a while.

"Well, you're a bit shocked, now, to say the least. You need something hot to drink, and you'll feel better." And she led her towards a little inn, that looked slightly better than the others.

He drove Leisha to the bar, ordered some jaco, and forced her to drink it.

"Now you're going home. Immediately. No matter what you were doing, you can't go around alone like this. Not this evening, at least."

"But...the scarf...the initials...I can't give up" *What am I saying...he's right, I know...*

"No "buts", sister. I'll take in the nearings of the Guildhouse...for some reasons that I can't explain you now, I can't go back there...and you'll go straight there, or you'll have yourself killed!!"

Leisha bent her head.

Derik payed for the jaco, and guided her towards home. they didn't say a word to each other, all the way.

By the corner of the Guildhouse, Derik greeted the impulsive Renunciate with a kiss on her forehead, and said "Take care of your shoulder, Leisha. If you want to be ready for the Ball, you'll need to have it laran healed!"

"But I'm not going to the Ball..." she murmured, while she looked at him vanishing in the shadows, silent as he had arrived.

She was about to turn and enter, when she heard Derik calling her.

"I remembered just now that you may find this useful. Our friend had it in a pocket" he said, handing to her a rub parchment.

The search for Lenni has a little stop, here, because Leisha gets an invitation to the Ball: Do you want to read how did it go? Follow this link: Leisha's Ball

Leisha was not feeling like being at a Ball anymore, so she searched the room for her friends, to greet them, and let them know that she was going home.

She didn't find any trace of Eliadha, but something told her that she'd better not look for her. Jorik was dancing with Daimary, Mabry had already gone to bed...Luckily Marcello wasn't there (she sent a thanksgiving thought to Cristilyn). She decided to go.

It wasn't late, but she liked better the idea of her bed, rather than a thousand of other dances, with a thoudand of other dancers...when the only man she'd have liked to dance with had already gone away.

*****

Now, the morning after:

From Rakhail:

>His life was in shambles and he vowed to himself to end his freemate marriage to Gwenneth and return to the Drytowns. At least there the roles of men and women are clearly defined.

>As he walked, an odor of food reached his nostrils and his stomach reminded him that he had not eaten for a long, long time. Despite his frame of mind, he was indeed hungry and he found that the aroma was coming from a nearby sweet shop.

>Rakhail walked in the door to buy a nut roll while he contemplated his next move. >Behind the counter was a beautiful young Renunciate and when Rakhail looked at >her, she reminded him of someone, but he couldn't place who it was.

"Good morning, vai dom. How can I help you?" Leisha made the ritual question even before seeing well the man that had entered.

Then she realized who the man was. She had seen him briefly, the evening before, and someone (Leisha couldn't remember who the gossiper were) had told her about the Drytowner, and his freemate wife, Gwenneth Lanart.

She looked at him better, a bit of suspicious...how a Drytowner would react to a Renunciate? She had been told so many terrible stories about those people...

"Good morning, mestra"

*Uhm. At least he looked polite.*

"I'm sort of hungry, and I was lead here by the wonderful smell in the street. What do you advice me to try?"

*Flatterer...* Leisha smiled to him.

"It depends on how hungry you are, sir...Some biscuits, maybe?"

*Too easily...I wonder why I'm feeling like I could trust him...*

It was late afternoon before Damien, Kyril, and Dominic rode back

into Thendara. Kyril, still damp from his bath in the stream they had

found, shivered slightly in Damien's light cloak. As they traveled down

the main street of Thendara the boy poked his head out from under the

lark grey cloak and pointed excitedly at one of the shops.

"Poppa, look! The nice lady's chocolate shop!" He sighed loudly.

"I'm very hungry. Can I please have one piece of chocolate? Just one?"

"I've discovered the boy's Gift, Damien," Dominic laughed. "He's a

certifiable bottomless pit. Aldones knows where he puts it all."

"He's growing by the day. By the end of the week I do believe he'll

need a new wardrobe. All right, all right." He nudged the horse toward

the post in front of the shop and swung lightly to the ground. Damien

looked up with mock sterness at the boy. "But just one this time. I

don't want you running wild again, do you hear me?"

"Oh, I promise," Kyril assured him solemnly.

"Mm-hmm," Dominic snorted. "This I have to see."

"You'll enjoy the proprietres, too, my friend," Damien said with a

grin. "A very lovely lady, if I do so so myself." He reached up and

helped Kyril down from the horse, tickling his small charge playfully as

he did so.

"Really?" Dominic asked, with renewed interest. Damien just grinned

more broadly in reply. His friend was a good man, but with all of the

intolerances of their Comyn kind. He was in for a shock when he saw just

who owned and ran the popular sweet shop. "Then, by all means, let us

proceed."

"Hurray!" Kyril ran into the shop and stopped at the counter, where

he smiled up at the renunciate behind it. "Hi, lady!" As Damien and

Dominic entered more slowly behind him, Kyril's eyes grew wider and

wider as he took in all of the delicacies in Leish'as shop...

Kyril ran into the shop, and without even (well, almost even!) giving a

look to the shelves, he stopped before the counter, where Leisha was

waiting, smiling at him.

"Hi Lady!" he chirped "I'm happy to see you again!"

"I'm happy too!" Leisha said, searching, with one hand, for some of the

biscutis Kyril had liked so much last time.

[OOC: did I ever told you how much I like Kyril? <g>]

She found them, and with her best smile (in the meanwhile, a glance to

Dom

Damien and his companion had made for her nearly impossible to stay

serious), she handled the biscuits to little Kyril: "Here's to you, vai

dom. You pay this humble sweetshop a great honour, with this second

visit

of yours"

Kyril giggled, took gently the biscuits form Leisha's hands, and gave

an

imploring look at Damien.

The man smiled, and said: "Didn't you say that you were hungry, chiyu?"

He didn't need to repeat himself--Kyril was already wolfing down the

first biscuit.

Damien smiled again, and continued. "Well, that's one problem solved. I

think he'll survive until dinner now. Though I think you'd better

prepare a package of those biscuits for us to take with us, mestra."

"Of course, vai dom." Leisha smiled at Kyril as he watched her wrap up

a dozen biscuits with an eager--and chocolate coated--grin. "Growing

boys need their share of sweets. And something for you, vai dom?" She

nodded politely at the stranger who had come in with Dom Damien.

"No, thank you, mestra." He shot an annoyed look at Damien, for some

reason.

"It's a real luck that you dropped here, dom Damien" Leisha went on. "I

needed to talk with you about that woman, Lenni"

"Of course. I hope you will forgive my rather abrupt behaviour, last

night..."

"You don't need to say a word, vai dom. I understood perfectly that

that wasn't the most suitable moment. _I_ would have to make my

excuses," Leisha replied. "Anyway...I went in the Commercial Town, and

asked a few questions in an

inn..'The Dirty Girdle,' if you're curious. The bartender told me that a

woman named Kialla, mistress of 'The Golden Peacock' could have known

something about Lenni..." Leisha stopped to take breath. Her listener

seemed astonished, that she had gone alone in such a place...only Kyril

didn't look interested, taken as he

was by his biscuits.

"I had some...small problems...at the Golden Peacock, but I was lucky.

Kialla

did know Lenni! She used to worked there, but she recently disappeared,

in

a great haste. The only thing she left behind her was a blue silk scarf,

very Comyn-like, with the initials PD embroidered on it" Leisha lift her

shoulders in a shrug. "If I knew you were coming today, I would have

brought it with me, this

morning, to show you."

"That would have been very useful, mestra. If you would, bring it

to the shop with you tomorrow. I'd like to take a look at this scarf; if

it did indeed belong to Lenni, it may tell us something about what

happened to her." Damien patted Kyril reassuringly on the shoulder as

the little boy looked up at the sound of his mother's name. "I know she

wouldn't have left the boy without a very good reason."

The man with Damien sniffed, but subsided at an angry look from

Damien.

"Of course, dom Damien," Leisha said quickly. "I'll have the scarf

with me tomorrow. I wish that I'd been able to find something more

concrete. I should warn you, the Fatted Calf and the Golden Peacock are

both rather...unsavory. I would be very careful about going into such

places alone, if you decide to investigate yourself."

"Thank you for your concern, mestra. I doubt I'll go there

myself--I do tend to 'stick out' in any crowd. But I'm reluctant to send

you back into danger, as well."

Leisha drew herself upright and sniffed in indignation. "Vai dom! I

am a renunciate, not some delicate lady! I can assure you, I'm quite

capable of taking care of myself." *With a little help from my friends,*

she added mentally. Going there alone might not have been the brightest

idea she'd ever had, nor one that she was likely to repeat anytime soon.

With relief she saw Damien nod his acceptance.

"Of course. Forgive me, mestra. I've been told before that I can be

over-protective at times. But you will take proper precautions, I

trust?" At Leisha's nod he continued. "Very well. I'll speak to you

again tomorrow. Kyril, are you ready to leave?"

"Okay, Poppa." Kyril eyed the bag Damien was holding. "Can I have

just one more? For the road?"

Both men laughed, and Damien swung Kyril up into his arms. "One for

the road, indeed. You've got the makings of quite a chocolate lush, do

you know that?" Kyril giggled as Damien lightly tickled the boy's chin.

"And I think you'll have to wait. We're going to have dinner at the

Tower tonight, remember? Elorie's found us a cook, and I promised that

we'd try her out tonight. Mestra Mellina won't be very pleased if we're

too stuffed to eat the food she's labored over, will she?"

"Never annoy the cook, my boy," the other man, Dominic, agreed.

"And we'd best me on our way, if we don't wish to be late. Mestra." With

a cool, civil nod for Leisha, the man turned and walked out of Leisha's

shop. With a far warmer smile and politer farewell Damien did the same,

and the three Comyn men were once againon the street.

They never noticed the rough-kempt man who stood in the shadows,

watching the shop with interest from across the busy street...

Leisha sighed, and slightly slapped her forehead. How could she have been so stupid?

She hadn't even mentioned to Damien the man that might have killed her, if Derik hadn't been there, providentially.

By no way she meant to continue the search without Damien...not a tough behaviour, she admitted to herself. *Well, I'm not supposed to be a warrior. After all, I run a sweetshop, and I'm not a mercenary soldier...*

She closed the shop earlier, in the evening, as she was still quite tired from the Ball.

On her way home, she felt somehow observed, but she shrugged her shoulder *Don't be silly! Thinking to Lenni have made you remember that...grezuin. And you're tired. Try not to fear the shadows!*

She didn't notice the man who was silently following her steps.

"So here's our little Amazon..." giggled Caradoc mac Mesyra "I'll let you arrive home safe. This time. I still need to know what _you_ know". Once he saw Leisha enetering the Guildhouse, he made his way through the shadows again.

The next morning, Leisha brought the scarf with her. She didn't have to wait much for Damien to appear.

Soon, a man dressed with plain-looking clothes and a

dark, light-weight cloak entered the shop.

"S'dia shaya, dom Damien" she smiled "Have you already had your breakfast? I have some little cakes just come out from the oven..."

"Actually I haven't...I'd be very happy to try one, thank you, mestra." Damien accepted the offer.

Leisha nervously looked at Damien eating her sweets...she wasn't worried about his reactions (the man seemed to enjoy them quite a lot), but she was desperately trying to find the right time to tell Damien more about her adventures in the Commercial Town.

Once again, she didn't have to wait for long. Damien licked one finger of his right hand (and Leisha was surprised to catch a similarity between the man and his lovely foster son), and asked: "Did you bring the scarf with you? And did you tell me everything, yesterday, or there's still something I should know?"

*How does he know...well, doesn't matter* Leisha quickly told him about the Golden Peacock (and why she didn't fancy the idea of going back there alone there).

Damien's eyes opened wider and wider, as Leisha went on with her story, telling him also about the chase, and the attempt of stabbing...failed only becasue she had been so lucky to meet Derik on her way.

"Then by no means you have to go there alone again, Leisha" Damien said decisely, forgetting to add 'mestra'. Leisha didn't bothered...she'd never payed attention to those formalities, and anyway she was too busy sighing with relief to notice the fact herself.

"I suppose that we can go there just this evening, if you like the idea, dom Damien. Oh, I was forgetting: here's the scarf" Leisha extracted the objected from a drawer behind the counter.

Damien accepted the worn scarf, running it lightly through his

hands. It was clearly quite old (though not nearly so old as himself, he

thought wryly), but had been well cared for. Worn thin from countless

washings, it had been neatly repaired in three places where the original

stitching had given way. A woman's scent clung to it, but it had

obviously been intended for a man. Moving so that his back was no longer

to the door of Leisha's shop, Damien closed his eyes.

A woman, little more than a child herself, had owned this, kept it

close to her for many years. The strong resonance he picked up off the

worn scarf suggested that she had had some laran ability of her own,

though it must have been thoroughly blunted if she was able to pursue

the profession that she obviously had. The girl's self-image, which was

the only mental image attached to the scarf, was a much younger version

of the woman of twenty years that had been in Kyril's mind. It wasn't

much, but Damien knew that now he could find her, should she still be

alive. He opened his eyes to see Leisha looking at him expectantly.

"Nothing terribly helpful, I'm afraid. I was hoping that it had

belonged to Kyril's father, but it was apparently given to Lenni when

she was a child. I would venture to guess that it belonged to her

father."

"So her father was a Comyn lord as well?" Leisha asked. "And she

ended up on the streets, just like Kyril did." The careful neutrality in

her voice made Damien nod.

"I know. I don't like it either, but neither of us will change the

way the world goes. At least the cycle will stop with Kyril." He nodded

decisively. "And I think we need to pay a visit to the Golden Peacock.

Someone is very determined that we not find out what happened to Lenni,

and that alone is enough to make me suspicious. I'd bet my boots that

she saw or did something she shouldn't have."

Leisha said, reluctantly, "If this is a criminal matter, then

perhaps the City Guard...?"

"No, I'd rather not involve them just yet. They'd have precious

little interest in this particular missing person, and we've no proof as

yet that it's anything more. Besides," he said with a grin, "my

relationship with the Guard is less than completely amicable. Why don't

we take a look, and see what we can find. If this is a matter for the

Guard, we'll know it soon enough. Shall I meet you here tonight at

dusk?"

"That would be fine, vai dom." Leisha smiled, and handed him a

small bag. "Here. These are for that little bottomless pit."

Damien looked inside and gave her a boyish grin. "If his

foster-father doesn't get to them first. My thanks, mestra. I'll see you

this evening."

The red sun was low in the sky when Damien left the Tower and began

walking toward Leisha's Sweet Shop. The renunciate/owner of the shop,

Leisha, had offered to take him back to the brothel where Kyril's mother

had once worked. It seemed like a long shot that they'd find anything

more of use, but it was possible that the madam there knew more than

she'd been willing to say. She'd tell him, wheteher she was aware of it

or not.

His pace slowed as he thought about how close Leisha had come to

being seriously injured. And for what? So that they could find Kyril's

negligent father. A father who might well scorn any contact with a

harlot's son.

Worse yet, who might want to acknowledge the boy.

Damien stopped abruptly, causing a young couple to bump into him.

They murmured an apology, not seeing anything but each other as they

walked around him and continued up the street. The girl reminded him

painfully of Marisela, but he quickly shoved that thought aside.

Marisela was not his to think about. Her quick smile, the way her eyes

flashed defiantly when Allain had turned his gaze toward her, the way

her hair blazed in the morning sun...mentally he shook his head. His

love for her--and he loved her utterly--was like a bad joke. He could

quite happily spent the rest of his life with her, but he'd have done it

without touching her with so much as a single lustful thought. Marisela

deserved--needed--more. So he'd done his duty and sent her into the arms

of a very suitable Comyn man who would marry her within a tenday.

And now he would do his duty again, and see that Kyril was properly

acknowledged and raised by a proper Comyn family. The boy deserved no

less. It was still an hour or so before he'd arranged to meet with

Leisha. Myria would be in the castle, and she had mentioned that

Cristilyn Aillard had offered to foster the boy. Perhaps that would be

the best solution, at least until--or if!--they found the boy's father.

Before he could change his mind Damien turned around and began walking

quickly back to the castle.

Leisha and Damien stood outside the Golden Peacock, watching in

surprise as the heavy wooden door banged open time and time again.

Rough-looking men, many of them already reeling drunk, staggered in to

the loud and hearty cries of those already inside.

"And you went into this place. Alone." Damien gave Leisha, standing

beside him, a look. The renunciate wasn't sure whether it was one of

respect, or the caution one would give the gloriously insane.

"I'm a renunciate!" she said stoutly. "I can take care of myself."

"And I was a mercenary soldier for many years, and I wouldn't

relish going in there alone."

"You! What does a man have to fear from other men?" As soon as the

words were out, Leisha felt herself begin to blush. Of course, there

were always men who preferred other men...

Damien nodded, as if he'd read her mind. He probably had. "A man

with a pretty face, especially if he has the build of an untried boy,

can be prey to jackals like these as much as any woman. Though I'd

suppose things might be different down here, in the lowlands. In any

case, neither of us will be doing anything so foolish in the future,

will we?" He wagged a finger at her, and Leisha couldn't repress a grin.

Damien was unlike any other Comyn man she'd even met.

"All right, all right. You sound like my oath-mother. I promise,

I'll not go into any more brothels alone. Or at least not without good

cause."

He seemed about to say something else, then gave up and nodded.

"Fair enough."

"Now, can we go in? The longer we wait, the more of them we'll be

up against, should it come to that."

"You have a very high opinion of our combined talents. Yes, let's

go."

"Hey! Look who's back!" The big, hairy, smelly man Leisha

remembered as Merrill rose from his barstool as Leisha and Damien

entered the tavern. "And she brought a friend! Hey, girls, come over

here and give us a show!" He swayed on his feet before landing with a

heavy thud back on his stool. Catcalls echoed around the room.

"That's no girl." A short, squat man with a heavy beard approached

them, squinting drunkenly up into Damien's pale, narrow face. "But,

Zandru's Hells, he's got a pretty enough face. Let me have another beer,

boychick, and I'll keep you warm tonight." Leisha's hand flashed to her

knife hilt, but the Comyn lord beside her just looked at the man before

them. "What do you think, chiyu?"

"I think that you should go sit down." Damien's voice was soft and

even.

"I think--" The man seemed to think twice, his watery gaze moving

slowly to Damien's sword, then back to his calm, implacable face. "I

think I need to have another drink. Barkeep! What does it take to get an

ale around here!" The tension that had been building since they first

came in began to drain away as the stocky man turned back toward the

long wooden bar at one end of the room.

"That was fun," Leisha whispered. "Let's find Kialla, shall we? I'd

rather not spend any more time in this place than I have to."

"It has a rather limited charm, doesn't it? Do you see the madam?"

"Not yet. I think she--oh, there she is." Leisha pointed to the

heavyset, colorfully dressed woman who was making her way slowly down

the stairway to their left.

"You! Mestra, if I didn't know better, I would think you liked our

company." Kialla shot Leisha a distrustful look. "You haven't come to

cause trouble, have you?" She glanced at Damien uncertainly. He was

dressed like a commoner, but his face and pale hair suggested he was far

more than that. Apparently she decided to play it safe. "And you, vai

dom? You don't have the look of a man seeking the company we offer

here." *Probably too clean and clean-shaven,* Leisha thought with a

grimace of distaste.

"We need to purchase just a few minutes of your time, mestra,

nothing more." Damien nodded his head courteously at the woman as she

approached them.

"Well, everything is for sale here, that's certain enough. Why

don't you come upstairs with me?" She turned and headed back up the

steep, narrow stairs, not waiting to see if they would follow. After a

moment they did, to the snickers of amusement from the tavern's

customers.

The rooms upstairs were as bad as Leisha remembered. It wouldn't

have been so bad if they had been able to gain any new information, but

the small shake of Damien's head told Leisha that the madam had been

honest with her before, and had nothing else to share. A gentle prod

from Damien, along with a few coppers, did buy them a few moments in

Lenni's old room.

The room was obviously now inhabited by another prostitute, but was

mercifully free of both employee and customers when Kialla let them

inside. The room was heartbreakingly plain, with a well-worn rug on the

floor and bare, unpainted walls. A few small items sat on the room's

ragged table, the only property of the young woman who lived here.

Leisha prowled the room restlessly.

"I don't think we'll find anything here. If she'd left anything of

value, it would have been sold long before now. I think this may be a

wasted--" Leisha stopped as her boot caught against an uneven piece of

wood in the corner of the small room. The strip of wood, one of the

dozens that made up the rough floor of the room, didn't fit quite evenly

against its fellows. Taking out her belt knife, Leisha eagerly pried up

the wood. In one corner of the small space beneath, Leisha could just

make out a small green and gold leather sack. She pulled it out

gingerly.

"Did you find something?"

"I don't know. It could be nothing, but, oh!" Leisha fingered the

heavy paper with wonder. Several sheets of expensive, well-milled paper

were carefully stored inside. They appeared to be love letters,

addressed to Lenni, and signed only "R". A small ring gleamed brightly

in the light.

"Poor girl. She must have been in a great hurry to have left these

behind," Damien said sympathetically. "This ring must have had quite a

sentimental value for her not to have sold it, as poor as she was."

"I'll say. This is a nice piece." Leisha whistled softly. "Quite a

favor, for a girl like her." They both heard the footsteps stealthily

approaching the door, and Leisha hurriedly stuffed the items back in the

bag and hung the bag itself over her belt. The door swung open with a

noisy squeak.

"We need this room now," Kialla announced. "Unless you'd like to

pay the going rate?"

"No, I think we're done here," Damien said. He gestured to Leisha,

and she walked gratefully out of the small, squalid room. Damien

followed after her, a similar expression of distaste on his face. Both

of them breathed a sigh of relief as they breathed deeply of the fresh

air outside the Golden Peacock. Leisha handed the letters to Damien.

"Do you recognize the handwriting, Damien?"

"No, but that doensn't mean much, I'm afraid. I can ask Lord

Marcello tomorrow, I suppose." He grinned. "Though if I tell him where

they were found, and who they were addressed to, he might not be pleased

to identify a kinsman."

Leisha grinned. "A little chagrin would do Marcello good. I'll ask

him, if you like." Leisha's eyes glinted with inner amusement.

"I'll take care of it. He knows I'm involved with Kyril, for the

moment. I think I can use his sympathy for the boy to get his

assistance."

"And he'll probably take it better from you, anyway," Leisha

sighed. "All right. Do you want to try anywhere else tonight?"

"No, I think that's enough. Tomorrow looks like a trying day, and

I've still got a great deal of work to do tonight. Why don't I walk you

home?"

"That's very kind, but I really don't need--"

"No, you don't. But I could use the company, and I happen to be

walking in the same direction." That was a patent lie, as Comyn Tower

loomed far from the Guildhouse in Thendara. Still, he seemed to mean no

disrespect, and there was the creeping sensation of being watched that

she'd felt of late... "Thank you, dom Damien," she said formally. "I

would enjoy the company."

"As would I, but only if you will call me Damien. All of my

tavern-companions do, you know."

Leisha laughed in surprise. "Damien, then. Shall we proceed?"

They made their way back to the Guildhouse without incident,

although Leisha couldn't quite shake the sensation that they were being

followed. Still, it wasn't something to both Damien with. From the look

on his face, he had enough on his mind already. She would investigate

herself, tomorrow.

Back to the RPG page

The Sweetshop | Leisha's RPG page | Other Darkover pages

This page is hosted by Get your own FREE home page