They were lost. Might as well admit it.

“I think we took a wrong turn somewhere, or something... I have no idea where we are, anymore. Do you, Miss Samina?”

The scar-faced woman stopped as they rounded a corner and came upon another intersection. She heaved a small, weary sigh and gazed up at the street signs. “You think? ...Spear ...head ...alley... that old lady said something about ‘left on spear...’ something… I think… or it might have been ‘lance...’” She rubbed her face with both hands and turned back to him, shrugging in defeat. “Nope, I don't. I can’t even remember which way we came anymore, can you?”

He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. “Beyond 'back down that street'? No, I'm afraid not. This place is too big and confusing. I usually have quite a decent sense of direction, but I think I left it somewhere back there...” He made some vague gestures back at the way they had come.

Samina gave him a lopsided, teasing smile. “Hey, aren’t you a scout? Shouldn’t those be able to find their way around everywhere?”

He smiled back. “Well, under normal circumstances, yes – but the Great City of Ducarron is not what I would call a normal circumstance.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded at that, walking over to a nearby bench where she sat down with a small, exhausted puff of breath.

“Crap it... I really wanted to see the arena.” He sat down next to her, and she half-turned to him. “It’s one of those things you just have to have seen, you know? And I bet that that’s where Steelwing has been staying, too.” She leaned forward and placed her chin in her hands with another little sigh.

Judeau, on the other hand, leaned back and stretched a little with his hands behind his head, while studying the street and trying to get his bearings back.

“Well, you know..." he mused, "We could still find it. After all, we have to get a little more lost before we can find our way back, and we might just lose ourselves in the right direction...”

She looked up at him with amusement. “You know, the weirdest thing about what you just said is that it actually makes sense.”

He smiled back and nodded. “Yeah, I know.” Then he stood up and pointed, speaking more encouragingly, “Come on, lets try that door over there, it must lead to the outside, and I may be able to get a better indication of where we are from there.”

“All right.”

It took some effort to push the door open, and when they finally succeeded they were greeted by a gust of wind that threatened to suck the air right out of their lungs. They hurried out and closed the door behind them, and the fury of the wind died down a little.

“Whooa…!”

They had exited onto one of the huge walkways that spanned over the outside of the Great City, and the view was absolutely breathtaking. Judeau excitedly walked over to the balustrade.

“Amazing! I had no idea of how far up we’d gotten ourselves! Just look at that… I think I might be able to see Shammael’s forest from here!”

“Uh, yeah…” Samina’s voice behind him carried a tone of apprehension, “You know what? I don’t think we’re going to find our way from here. Let’s go back inside.”

He turned and saw her standing right next to the door with her back against the far wall.

“What’s this?” he said, surprised, “Are you afraid of heights? Aren’t you a ‘Falcon’?”

“Yeah, well, I... shut up!” She glared at him. “...I’m not afraid of heights, I’m afraid of this height! No human being should ever be this high up in the air.”

He gave her a confident smile, “We’re not in the air, we’re standing on a walkway. Look, there’s a balustrade here to prevent people from falling down. Come on.” He held out his hand to her, but she gave the banister an uncertain look.

“Eh... ‘Falling down’... no thanks, I think I’ll just stay here, if it’s all the same to you.”

“All right, I’m not going to pressure you.” He turned back to the view and leaned out a little bit to better study the City beneath and around him. The houses of the outer city looked so very small, and the people milling about down there so insignificant…

This must be what it would feel like to be a real hawk, soaring on the winds, looking down...

Or maybe this is what it felt like to be Griffith...

He forcefully pushed that thought away and returned to the task at hand: finding out where the hell he was. As he raised his eyes, he spotted something interesting, and called back to Samina:

“There’s a huge, transparent cupola over there!”

“Great! That must be the Grand Arena! Can you find your way there?”

“Yeah, I think so, we’re even on the right floor!”

“Fantastic. I’m going back inside now, you can come as soon as you’re finished defying death.”

“I’ll be right with you.”

He had to stay for a moment, though, and gaze out over the ruggedly beautiful landscape. The mottled greenish-brown plain stretched out for as far as he could see, occasionally interrupted by a small, dark green patch of trees, or the neat little squares of fields far away where only a tiny wisp of chimney smoke indicated a farming village in their midst.

He saw the white chalk-lines of the roads that crossed the plain, all of them leading to the Great City, and the sparkling, blue ribbon of a river far off to the right. He saw the huge, dark shadows that the clouds cast over everything as they passed overhead, and he felt exhilarated... as if he was indeed a hawk, and could at any moment spread his wings and sail out, riding the wind, watching the world rush by underneath him...

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the crisp air, enjoying the way the wind whipped his bangs around his face and tugged at his ponytail and clothes.

“Gatts would have loved this place...” he whispered to himself. The big man had always retired to the highest available spot when he’d needed to think; almost as if it would help him reach the answers he sought. Judeau could practically see him now, sitting on the balustrade, clutching his huge sword to himself with that stern do-not-disturb look on his face.

Then the shadow of a cloud dulled the sunlight where he stood, and a sudden sadness came over him.

Gatts... I hope he survived... I hope he takes care of Caska...

Suddenly the view wasn’t so grand anymore, and he pressed down on all his thoughts about the past. I have already dealt with that. It’s over now. He turned away and went back in to where Samina waited.

But some of the sadness lingered almost all the way over to the Grand Arena.

~
The Grand Arena was, like everything else in the Great City, a huge and impressive work of art. Under its transparent cupola it fitted three major pits and fifteen smaller ones, with at least one fight going on at any given time. Every wall was crowded with alcoves, and in each alcove stood a statue depicting either a grim warrior or a fierce beast.

It was everything Samina had expected, except that it was also easily navigated. It took them only a minute to find Steelwing in the training halls, once she’d asked the right person about temporarily residing Crusaders. Not surprisingly, he was training.

“You bastard!” she called as soon as she saw him, and was rewarded by a slight tightening of his shoulders as the only sign that she’d caught him by surprise; the elf didn’t miss a step, and finished his kata before turning back to give her a stern look.

“I beg your pardon?” His gaze flicked over Judeau for an instant, before it re-settled on her. She jabbed an accusing finger at him.

“Guess what: I just spoke to one of the overseers here, and apparently you had a fight today. Why didn't you tell me? I would have won a lot of money betting on you!”

“We have not been talking.” Steelwing peeled the sweaty shirt off his body and tossed it into a corner, and once more Samina became aware of how frighteningly well-defined the elf was; he looked as though he had had his skin painted on over his muscles, with not an inkling of body-fat in between. He proceeded to sit down on the floor and perform sit-ups as she gathered her wits about her and glowered at him.

“That’s no excuse. You could have left a message with the dwarves.” And don't you try to distract me, you …walking anatomy chart!

Steelwing managed to shrug between pulls. “I apologise.”

She sighed irritably, but calmed herself. This was Steelwing, after all, being Steelwing. As far as he was concerned, the argument was over now... and she supposed he was right. She couldn’t win any money on a fight that had already been fought, and Steelwing had simply forgotten that she would have wanted to be informed. Again.

She reminded herself that even though money had great value to her, it held almost none to the Crusader, and took a deep, quiet, calming breath.

The elf got to his feet and reached for a mug of water on a nearby table, but before he took a sip of it he gave Judeau a more obvious appraisal.

“New clothes?”

The blond man smiled politely and nodded. “Miss Samina helped me sell the remains of my old armour and took me shopping.”

“I see.” He paused thoughtfully for a moment as he finished his water, and then addressed the man again, “Do you mind if I borrow her for a minute?” It wasn’t really a question, and one of Samina’s eyebrows arched up. Now what?

Judeau nodded in slight surprise. “Uh… Sure, no problem.” The elf gave her a serious look as he took her arm and walked over to the water barrel in the other end of the room.

“What? What is it?”

His voice was very silent as he replied, while helping himself to a refill of water:

“I understand that you do not want to be alone this week, and that you may have missed the company of humans, but are you certain that you want to choose that man for it?”

She gave the elf a confused look. “What’s wrong with him? ...And since when do you care who I choose for company?”

Steelwing bestowed upon her the look he usually reserved for people who asked him to leave his weapons at the door. “I do not, but you and I both know that he is hiding something.”

Her memories caught up with her. “Oh, right! You weren’t there... he told us, after you’d left the other day... well, Taskkarr made him.”

The Crusader’s features remained hard and expressionless. “So what was it?”

“Now, don’t get all crusader-y on me. Would I spend time with him if he were a criminal? Or evil in any other way?”

Steelwing kept his cold gaze on her, unwavering. She sighed.

“All right; he says he’s from another world.”

In an unusual display of emotions, the elf’s both eyebrows rose heavenwards. Samina had to suppress a giggle at the sight, and continued quickly:

“You know how Taskkarr always goes on about how you can never know what will happen around a demon, 'cause they warp reality and all that?”

Steelwing gave a curt nod, still with that unusually surprised look on his face.

“Well, Mr Judeau and his band of mercenaries were attacked by an army of demons, he took a bad beating and lost consciousness, and woke up in another world; this one. Or that’s what he says.”

“And you... believe him?”

She allowed her mirth to show in a confident smile. “Yeah. Taskkarr thinks it could be possible, too.”

“Hm,” the elf said, in a tone that indicated that someone had just proven to him that the sky was, indeed, green. He downed his water and took another refill with him as he walked back to where Judeau stood.

The blond man had picked up a dagger from a nearby shelf, and weighed it in his right hand before he, with one swift movement, expertly threw it at one of the training dolls, hitting the dummy squarely in the chest.

Samina gave a whistle as she walked up to him. “Good throw!” But the man made a small grimace and flexed his fingers.

“Not good enough; I was aiming for the throat.” He picked up another dagger and held it with his left hand. “Like this.”

That knife flew true and straight, and lodged itself neatly where the larynx would be on a normal human. Judeau gave her a slightly embarrassed smile. “I’m still recovering...”

She let her incredulous stare move from the dummy to his smiling face.

“You’re good... that kind of skill would be appreciated by the assassins guild, methinks...”

“There’s an assassins guild?”

“Uh... no... not officially. Forget I said that.”

“So,” Steelwing interrupted, “You came here to... yell at me?”

She tried not to let her annoyance show as she turned to him. “I came to see the Grand Arena, and to find out how you were doing.” She shut her mouth around the sarcastic ‘if you don’t mind terribly’ that almost followed. This elf could bring out the worst in her; it was hard to be patient with someone so... infuriatingly calm and sensible. And cold.

“All right, you have seen the Grand Arena, and I am doing fine. Can I return to my training now?”

“Am I holding you back?”

The elf shrugged dismissively and picked up his two wooden training swords. Samina couldn’t stop herself this time; she gave him an annoyed look, that he completely ignored, and said sarcastically: “Well, it was nice seeing you, too.”

He got into his starting position and replied indifferently: “We see each other all the time when we are travelling.”

She gave up and tiredly rolled her eyes with a little sigh. “Right. You’re right. Have a nice day.”

As they left, Judeau leaned in towards her and quietly asked: “He sure was curt, is he angry or something?”

She shrugged tiredly and shook her head.

“He’s like that. He’s a Crusader. They live only for one purpose; to defeat evil in all it’s forms, everywhere.” She sighed and dug her hands into her pockets. “And he is quite rabid, if I do say so myself. He doesn’t want any ties to the world that could act as distractions from his purpose, such as friends.”

She looked up at the blond man with a weary little smile. “But that doesn’t stop me from trying, though. I’d like to think that he lets me tag along for some other reason than my ability to kill people.”

He gave her a strange look, and she blinked in surprise. “What?”

“No, nothing... I was just reminded of something... old.”

She could tell that that was all she would get out of him on that subject, and saw in his expression that it was something he’d rather not think about right now. She decided that for the moment it was probably best to just let the matter drop.

~
Later that evening they had retired to the inn where Judeau had first met the odd team, and since it was past work-time, it was now pretty crowded and noisy.

He watched the barmaid, the one who had flirted with him, as she wriggled her way through the milling people, expertly dodging elbows and sudden chairs all the way up to their table. She put the two jugs down in front of them with a wink at him, and left with a subtle glare at Samina. The scar-faced woman noticed it, but merely raised an amused eyebrow before turning to Judeau.

“Ooh... I think she likes you.”

He chuckled. “Yeah... though she doesn’t seem to fancy you much.”

“I can’t understand why not...” She shook her head in amusement and took a draught from her ale, before addressing him more seriously, “So... what are you going to do?”

“About her?”

This time it was her turn to chuckle. “No, I meant what are you going to do when this week is over?”

He turned serious and frowned thoughtfully. “Well, I was thinking of joining a mercenary band... you got any recommendations?”

Turning serious as well, she sucked in her breath between her teeth. “Not in Ducarron, I’m afraid; the only jobs mercenaries can hope to land here are as caravan guards or maybe something more long-term as bouncers... though many come here to try their skills at the arena. The royal army takes care of pretty much everything else.”

He leaned back and sighed. “So what are my options? I don’t know anything about anything here, and...” He gave a small, hopeless shrug. “I kind of want to find my place in this world.”

She gazed at him thoughtfully across the table, tapping her fingers against her jug.

“Hmmm... you could try for caravan guard and travel to another country like Vagoria or Tolis-Hael - that’s where the really good mercenaries can be found. Or you could join a guild... I could probably get you in touch with the... unofficial guilds, if you would want that, or you could try the entertainers guild... by the way, how much money do you have left?”

“Um... fifteen Crowns and eight Thrones.”

She made a face. “Darn, forget the guilds, then. The fee for membership is usually somewhere around seventy Crowns... But when you can afford it, it’s worth it. For example; only members of the entertainers guild are allowed to perform inside taverns – where the real money is ...and all guilds will help you find work within their designated fields.”

She paused and studied her ale for a while, before speaking again, “No, I think your best shot is to freelance a little. Join a group of freelancers... like us.”

“Join you?”

She looked up at him with a slightly uncertain smile. “Yeah, how about it? We’re just a small group, so we could always use another sword - or knife - and killing ‘bad guys’ has proven to be quite profitable, actually. You wouldn’t believe the things they collect sometimes... not to mention the rewards on their heads – And also, you wouldn’t have to tell your story to a whole new group of people...”

“I...” he interrupted, “I see your points, and I appreciate them, but... would I be welcome? You all seem to be a rather tight team... well, maybe not right now, but when you are together, I just get that impression...”

She gave him a surprised look. “Why, sure. I mean, yes, the dwarves and I are friends, but Taskkarr already likes you and that means that Thirgynn likes you too - dwarves are so nicely predictable... I like you, and Steelwing... well... I don’t know.” She looked down into her ale and gave a small sigh. “Sometimes, I think he couldn’t care less if he has company or not. Anyway, the only thing he asks of the people who follow him is that they can fight well.” She looked up again and smiled brightly. “And since you seem pretty good at that, I say you should come with us. At least until we get to another country where you can join a mercenary band, if that’s what you’d rather do.”

He smiled back and nodded appreciatively. “I’ll... think about that.”

“Do so.” She placed her chin in her hand and gave him a friendly grin. “I think you could probably find your place with us.”

An odd sense of déjà vu came over him, but he couldn’t remember from where – and then the moment was interrupted as the huge, looming shadow of a man fell over them. Judeau looked up, surprised, as the owner of the shadow bent down over Samina.

He was big, almost as tall and muscled as Gatts but more fat, and adorned with a heavy tangle of blond beard and hair. Judeau could smell the stink of alcohol on the mans breath all the way over to his side of the table, as the brute spoke with a slurred accent:

“Heeey, girlie... why doncha dump scrawny over there and come have some fun with a real man?”

Samina tensed visibly and gave the man a glare of death that could have rivalled Griffith’s.

“Go away.”

The big man didn’t seem to get the hint at all; he placed one hand on the table and the other on the back of her chair, leaning down even further.

“Now, don’t play hard ta get, little girlie... I can show ya a real good time...” She didn’t move an inch, not even to back away from his horrible breath, but the knuckles on the hand holding her jug were turning white, and there was a slight tremble in her voice as she replied;

“Not. Interested. Fuck. Off.”

This is odd... Judeau thought, why is she reacting so strongly? He’s just a drunk jerk...

“Ooh, I like it when tha babes talk dirty...”

“Hey!” Judeau interfered, speaking seriously, “The lady isn’t interested, leave her alone!”

The big man redirected his bleary gaze.

“‘R else what, Scrawny? Ya gonna fight me?” The man grinned, straightened up and flexed his muscles intimidatingly. “Yer on.”

And then everything happened very fast. The big man hadn’t even begun turning to face Judeau when suddenly his face contorted in pain. As he began doubling over, Samina withdrew her fist from his scrotum and grabbed his head, pulling herself up as he went down and met his face with a well-placed knee.

His nose made a disgustingly squelching sound at the impact and the man was thrown backwards by the force of the blow, leaving a thin trail of blood through the air. As he hit the floor, Samina was standing upright, poised to strike again.

“What, that’s it? One good hit and you go down? You’re not man enough to handle me! get up!”

The big man wasn’t moving – he was quite obviously unconscious, but two other guys of about the same size as him rose from their seats.

“What the hell...? What didja do ta Jegon, ya bitch?”

She swirled around to face them. “What? You think you’ll do better?” Her readiness to fight caused the two brutes some pause, and Judeau hurriedly got up and placed himself between her and them, grabbing Samina’s fist with one hand.

“Miss Samina, calm down. They aren’t worth it.” And I don’t know what’s really going on right now, but don't you think you’re overreacting just a little...? She looked him straight in the eyes, and to his surprise he saw that hers were filled with fear. Fear, anger and defiance. He could feel her fist tremble in his hand, and her movements were a bit jerky as she looked over his shoulder at the two men, growling:

“Back off, Judeau, I can take them. They’re just pushovers like him!” She pointed with her free hand at the man on the floor, and Judeau heard the other two brutes begin grumbling behind him.

Ok, Judeau, it’s time to be tactful if we are to get out of this unscathed – before this situation gets out of hand.

...Where did that aggressive fear come from?

“Yes, I know,” he said, as if it was obvious that she could take on the two brutes single-handedly and win, without even getting scratched. “But they’re not worth it. And this place isn’t worth our money if they let in scum like that. I say we should just leave.”

A short moment he thought he had her. He could see that the fear in her eyes was working for him – she wanted to get out of there – but then, fuelled by anger, her defiance flared up, drowning out everything else.

“No!” she pulled her fist free from his grip and took a step back, pointing forcefully at their table, “We’re not going to leave! We’re going to sit here, drink our ale and have a good time!”

Right. Not with that attitude, we're not. All right, try, try again. He shook his head seriously, pretending to be bored of the inn. “We’re not going to have any fun here. This place is beneath us.” He glanced over at the unconscious man on the floor. “...Apparently.”

Samina hesitated, her fear spotting an opportunity to get out of the situation without hurting her pride, and he took the opportunity to deal with the two brutes. Turning around, he gave them his best senior-commander-means-business-glare:

“And what kind of friends are you two supposed to be? Turn him over so he doesn’t choke on the blood!”

The two men proved to be just as thug-like as he had hoped; they reacted to the authoritative tone of his voice and hurried to their fallen comrade’s side. Judeau turned back to Samina.

“Come on. I’m leaving, and I’d rather have you with me.”

For a brief moment she hesitated as defiance and fear weighed against each other, but then she nodded curtly.

“Sure. You’re right, this place isn’t worth it.”

She stalked out of the tavern and he followed, smiling apologetically at the barkeep as he passed by, and the hubbub in the tavern gradually resumed again as the show seemed to be over. Judeau let out a silent breath of relief as the door closed behind him, before hurrying after Samina.

Her long strides took her down the street and around a corner onto a smaller side street, where she slowly began losing momentum to come to a full stop next to an ornate pillar, against which she carefully leaned herself. Judeau stopped next to her, waiting tactfully for whatever would come once she’d composed herself.

After a couple of deep breaths she brought her trembling fist up in front of herself and carefully – painfully – opened it, showing that it held a thick, round metal disc. She flipped the disc over and he noticed that it had left an imprint in her palm.

“Dwarf coin,” she said with a weak, embarrassed smile, but without looking up. “’If it's worth doing, it's worth doing thoroughly.’ ...It’s a dwarf saying.”

He nodded calmly. “I see.”

She took another deep breath and let the coin slip into a small pocket on her thigh that he hadn’t noticed before.

“...I’m sorry...”

He nodded again. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay! I almost got us both into a fight! I broke that guy’s nose!” Another breath. “...I’m sorry for... losing control like that.”

He took a few steps closer and patted her shoulder, smiling reassuringly. “It’s okay, I got us out of it, didn’t I? So it’s over. It’s okay.”

She finally looked up at him, and he saw that she was blushing heavily with embarrassment. “Yeah... and thank you for that...” Then she looked away again and sighed with frustration, “It was the smell, Okay?”

Judeau frowned uncertainly. “Huh?”

“That smell. The stink of sweat and dirt and cheap liquor and old liquor and new liquor and all saturated in alcohol and it just crawls up your nose and down into your stomach and makes you SICK...” She made a grimace and closed her eyes for a moment. “...And I’m rambling. I’m sorry again.”

After a short pause he whispered, while carefully rubbing her shoulder and arm, “It’s okay. Really. We took care of it. It’s over.”

She angrily shrugged off his hand and turned away from him. “Don’t you patronise me!" she hissed. "I can take care of myself!”

“I know,” he said, completely honest. “I saw that. You can probably kick my ass anytime... That’s why it’s okay now; you took care of it. You would most likely have gotten out of that other fight on the winning side, too, if I hadn’t interfered.”

She gave him a suspicious glare over her shoulder, apparently trying to see if he was making fun of her. He shrugged and smiled, trying not to let the sadness that came creeping back show. “I once knew a woman like you, who fought for herself and surpassed most men with her skill. It just doesn’t seem strange to me anymore.”

She watched him uncertainly for a while, but then her face relaxed and she turned back towards him with a small smile.

“You’re serious.” It wasn’t a question. She gave a slight shake of her head and sighed once more. “I’m sorry again, for snubbing you off... I just can’t stop being rude today, can I?”

He smiled happily. “It’s okay. I keep telling you...”

Her smile widened and she gave him a playful jab in the ribs. “You have to stop being such a pushover, Mr Judeau. Get angry with me, I deserve it!”

“No, see, then we get back to this you-being-able-to-kick-my-ass business...”

That actually got her to laugh, even if it was a small and tired one.

“You sell yourself too short, Mr Judeau. I am not at all certain which one of us would win in a fight... but let’s not determine that tonight. I'm tired and I just want to go to bed. Let’s call it an evening, shall we?”

Pleased with himself and the way he had handled the situation, he nodded. Yep, I still got it.

Chatting lightly, they walked back to the somewhat cheaper inn where they had hired rooms.

“I’ll meet you for breakfast tomorrow,” he said as she stopped by her door – his was further down the corridor.

“You bet! Tomorrow, I want to see the royal residence!”

“Do you know the way there?”

“Nope.”

He matched her grin. “Sounds like fun.”

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