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cutter, which you will keep always beside you. The sword you will find uncomfortable, and tend to leave
by a campfire, or tied to your saddle, especially just before you need it. And this dagger can be your
salvation. Ail else you'll need is a small knife for cutting your meat, which you may pick out over at the
cutlery section.
"Do you agree, Master Kanadis?"
"I do."
"Two men who know better than I have spoken," I said. "Although sometimes I feel less the master of
this expedition than its sponsor, as if I were an old dodderer infatuated with a vapid sim-perer."
"And all of us whores appreciate you," Janos said, with a laugh.
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"One more thing," he said. "While we're on the subject of, er, ostentation. Your hair. I've known great
chieftains who are proud of their locks, and dare an enemy to shear them. I have admired them. From
afar. Especially during a battle. We will be traveling through regions whose peoples think it blessed by the
gods to hunt down a flame-headed man and pitch him off the nearest cliff to ensure a beneficial harvest or
perhaps just better weather the next day."
I considered. Janos had a smile on his lips, but it went no higher. I remembered the castle courtyard and
the hound. "When we return to the inn, I shall have Eanes shear me like a young lamb," I promised, and
reached for my purse to pay the smith.
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Cassini, who had listened but said nothing during our exchange, bought the exotic rapier and its
companion.
"DO NOT HAND me the mirror," I begged Eanes. "Just tell me what I appear to be." My hand stroked
at the emptiness where my hair had curled in waves to my shoulders.
"Perhaps," Eanes said thoughtfully, "a galleyslave."
"Or a thief intended for the Kissing of the Stones," Janos put in helpfully, peering around the corner.
"A criminal," I moaned. "A condemned man."
"You're too harsh, my master. You could also pass for a holy man who's taken a vow of celibacy."
"Definitely that," Janos said. "Possibly even a castrato."
"I think," I said, "I shall go next door to Evocator Cassini's chambers, and ask him if he could prepare a
small spell that delves into the arena of baldness."
'Too late for me," Eanes said, patting himself on his shiny pate. "But beware it doesn't turn back on its
caster, as so many incantations do."
"I am starting to believe," I said, "that being thrown from a high cliff is better than listening to either of
you. Janos. This was your idea. You may buy me a brandy ... no, several brandies ... below stairs."
I rose and picked up my new sword. I was still getting used to its heft, more than a bit heavier than the
rapiers or short swords I carried in Orissa. Eanes carefully gathered up the cloths he'd laid around my
chair before he began Ms bartering. He shook them into a leather bag.
"You were clever enough to not let any of his locks fall on the carpet?" Janos asked, most serious.
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"I was, Captain. Just as I have been since I was named Ms bodyslave, back when he was a mewling
infant. Careful with hair, careful with the trimmings from his nails, careful with the down from what he
wishes will be a beard one of these years, even careful when he was a disgusting pup and vomiting in all
directions like a fountain. Although there have been times I would have gladly sold a bit of my master to
some evil witch, provided she would include civility and common sense in whatever spell she planned to
cast over him."
"Good," Janos said, still serious. "But do not dump the cuttings down the Jakes, please. Carry them out
to the main sewage ditch, where you may be sure the water flow is constant."
Banes' smile evaporated, and he became as serious as Janos. "I shall do as you say," he said. "And I
know not whether you've any premonition, but just being in this city of dead stones and cursed souls
makes me constantly think all our doom is just around a corner."
All of us crossed fingers. Eanes gave a heavy sigh. "It is so bad," he said, "I am even looking forward to
the ocean, where I will be forced to hold Lord Amahic's head over the side when he pales, and inform
him that puking to windward is not blessed. Thanks be that I myself have a stomach of the most solidly
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cast iron." He picked up the bag and went out.
'To the best of my knowledge," I said, "Chatterbox Eanes has never been on any boat in his life, except
perhaps one in a garden pond."
Janos smiled a bit. "He reminds me of my own nurse. Scuffling, whining, complaining, worrying, but
always-"
A scream curdled the night. Janos and I were out the door onto the balcony. His sword was already in
hand, I scrabbled mine out. We clattered down the stairs into the courtyard. The two watch soldiers at
the gate were peering out, their weapons ready. Other soldiers pelted out from their chambers, buckling
on their gear.
"Eanes," one of the soldiers shouted, pointing down the street. The watch had been ordered to let
nothing lure them from then-posts. "He just went-"
I didn't hear the rest, as we rushed out into the street. Janos grabbed one of the torches from its
stanchion as we went. At the end of the street, I saw three men struggling. We hallooed and charged
forward. One of them broke away and darted off into the blackness. The other paused long enough for
me to see his arm strike across the chest of the third, who collapsed. Then there was no one in the
cobbled street but the sagging body of a man.
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It was Eanes. We turned him over. He'd been slashed twice- once on the arm, cutting it to the bone, and
then across the body, deep into his body cavity. But he still lived.
"Call Cassini," I ordered to Janos. He shouted for the Evocator and his healing herbs. I could hear feet
running toward us.
Eanes' eyes opened, then found me. "They ... didn't get it. I did not let them," he gasped. "They wanted
..."
"Be silent." Janos knelt beside me. He held out a small leather bag-the bag carrying my hair clippings.
My bowels clenched. It could not be. They thought the well-dressed little man was carrying a bag of
coins.
"They said ... they wanted what had come ... from you ... that I would be rewarded if I yielded it over.
And if I didn't ..." Eanes sucked in air, air that was no comfort to his ripped lungs.
"Hold on," I said. "Cassini is powerful. He has potions and spells. You'll be all right."
Eanes shook his head. "No," he whispered. "One boon, master. One last boon." I knew he was dying.
"Free me," he managed. "Let me die a free man."
That was no boon-it was my fault he would die here on these rough cobblestones in this damned city.
But that was all I could do. I tried to find words; but I'd had never freed a slave before. Janos spoke.
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