The guests were arriving quickly after that. Minister Ulmin looked at Nua sitting at the table with the pair and did a double take from the surprise. His long thin beard hung from his chin and throughout it’s white strands was woven a bright blue and green pair of ribbons, giving him a very ‘loud’ festive look, much like the rest of his billowy clothing that rounded at the waist and thighs with bright black sheen fabric and bright red patches. His wife, for her part, wore a flowing blue dress bright as a clear sky with a cloud white stripe over the front, a triangular shape from shoulder to center breast and straight down toward her waist.

‘Well there’s a mismatched pair.’ Nua thought without even considering it, he was easily sixty years her senior. Though he was able to walk straight, it was, Nua suspected, mostly because the doddering old man was able to hold on to his wife’s arm.

The Prince stood for the old man, redoubling Nua’s considerable opinion of Rasgen from where it already was, and aided him to a seat next to Nua. He then snatched a chair from another table, and slapped it down close to himself, so that the minister’s wife was beside him.

And Nua’s opinion of her Prince wobbled up and down depending on how she looked at it. Her eyes roved over the beautiful Contessa, the shapely hips and substantial breasts which were only partially concealed by the neckline of her dress. Her fresh young face might have been cut from white silk, and her long tumbling blonde hair made Nua’s own look cropped short. ‘Even if my back was perfect… in a battle of women’s beauty, she surpasses me.’

The Contessa seemed to know her own appearance quite well, and sat where the Prince set her chair without argument. Being seated where she was, she was close to Nua’s right hand, “There is only one person you can be.” She said lyrically and extended her hand with fingers down.

Nua took the hand in her own between thumb and forefinger, holdingly only daintily, she kissed the woman between her first two knuckles beyond the palm. “I am no other than myself, who else could I be, but me?” Nua chuckled a little and the Contessa placed a hand on her breast to laugh.

“Oh my dear, a person can be many versions of themselves, not just in a lifetime, but in a single night. Do your slaves see you as your employers do, do your enemies see you as your lovers do? No, there are a hundred of you at least, and more depending on how many people you know… and how well. I wonder who you’ll be to my husband… and myself.” She winked with the eye closest to Nua, and for a moment the elven woman was taken aback by the unexpected depth of thought… and the bold flirtation so close to her mate.

Nua was unable to tell if the Minister minded or not, and was so lost in thought for a moment that she missed more introductions. Down somewhere out of view from where she sat, she heard the sound of music begin to play, faint stringed instruments and the occasional pounding of a drum, but it was quiet. Background only to enhance but not dominate the evening.

A servant approached up the stairs with wine, a young girl in black and white clothing, she bowed to her Prince. “My Prince, your choice of wine?”

“Komestran Seventh.” He said without hesitation.

The other ministers, all elderly men, seated themselves at tables close to the Prince, along with their own wives, sons, and daughters. Nua felt daggers in her back from more than a few stares. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and that old hatred she had for humans roared to life so thoroughly that she hid her left hand beneath the table and clenched a tight fist, putting her anger there instead of on her face. ‘This is not the old country.’ She reminded herself by force and amused herself in conversation instead.

She found herself fielding questions left and right, not the least of which was about the regiment of soldiers she was using to hunt for ‘one runaway slave’.

To which she answered, “She belongs to me. If she ran, she will be punished. But if she was stolen?” She held her eyes fast against the stare of the old general who asked that question, “Who steals from the house of Aiwenor, does not respect the house of Aiwenor. Who does not respect my house, will harm it. Therefore I will find the ones who did this, and I will make them pay for it. I don’t pretend to know the ways of the east, noble general.” She forced a demure, almost submissive downward glance toward him at the next table, “Perhaps stealing from the nobility is a game here, a trivial matter of no import. But in the west, it is an attack. And there, such attacks are met with vigorous reprisal. I promise I will not keep the cavalry for long. My slaves are clever ones. Alive or dead, she will be found soon. Not to worry.”

“If she’s dead?” The General inquired.

There was a brief silence at the less than kind question. For a moment Nua was silent. Then she answered, “Do you really want to know?”

“I do, really, I do.” The General said with quiet resolve, his hands rested on his ample belly, and Nua bowed her head to him.

“As you know, I defeated Bracer and inadvertently rescued Prince Sado. To do so, I crossed the Tlalmok border with my Teacher and captured a merchant. We dragged him back across the border, and I skinned him alive until he told me what I wanted to know. Only then did I grant him death. When questioning Bracer, I took his leg and skinned the rest of it until he told me what I wanted to know. If Priceless is dead, and I capture those responsible. I will skin the guilty and turn it into her death shroud to bury her. Even my slaves will be avenged as if they were my own children. Is that what you wanted to know, General Leaman?”

The portly older man coughed uncomfortably and turned his eyes away. “I think so.”

The next few hours were far more pleasant, with servants bringing out great tureens of rich smelling mixtures of red sauces smothered over meat stuffed into curious soft bread like pouches which were labeled onto plates.

Rich wines were poured to guests high and low, though as word spread of the Prince’s choice, it was quickly imitated. On tasting the fruity red wine, Nua could only smack her lips and look at the silver chalice that held it, “Very good, Komestran land must make good grapes. Perhaps I’ll have to see about reestablishing vineyards there when things settle down.”

There was a round of chortled laughter from a nearby table, and Nua turned to face it, “Did I say something funny?”

One of the younger men gave her a pitying look, “That land is ruined. The soil there was dependent on a tributary to the Endless Flow that winds its way west, unfortunately the city that controlled those waters diverted them elsewhere. I have no idea why or where, but those vineyards are done for.”

“Oh.” Nua looked regrettably at the silver chalice in her hand. “Both made and ruined by forces beyond their control. Life in the shell of a nut, eh?” She said and raised her cup, “To happiness and life, as long as we have it.”

The Prince raised his cup in turn, and echoed the sentiment. “Happiness and life, for as long as we have it.” It was echoed from there, radiating above and down below, and the evening moved on.

‘It’s like being ‘her’ again.’ Kaiji thought and touched her purple tag that hung from her collar. Two fingers moved over it, short of a mirror, there was no way to look, but she knew what it said. Her fingers moved over the flowing script. ‘Aiwenor’ the house of her service. An armored soldier approached her and bowed before speaking. He moved so rapidly that he splashed water from the puddles that were forming about the uneven street, but he seemed not to care even a little. “Lady of Aiwenor, we found someone who saw something.”

“Don’t just tell me! Bring them to me!” She barked and struck the posture of her mistress, feet apart by shoulder distance and hands folded behind her back. Her green and black functional clothing hugged her skin. At her right hand, Sergeant Vargas stood in full armor, still, an aura of violence came off the man that was wholly unexpected whenever an armed Pasenian soldier drew close to her. So clear were his vicious eyes and so tight was his hold on his sword, that those coming to report stopped a step too early for proper protocol, to make their report.

At her left, Freyjin proved an unlooked-for font of wisdom.

Two cavalry officers came near a moment later, a free citizen wringing a cheap hat in his hands. It was a low brimmed hat of the style that came slightly forward beyond the brow, once it might have been vibrant blue, but it had clearly faded from exposure to the sun. His clothing was like his hat, once bright, but faded greatly. She felt the change in Freyjin the instant he approached. His scraggly beard and the faint odor of fish gave his profession away.

“Name.” Kaiji said crisply.

“Mateo, fishmonger.” The deeply tanned, wrinkled middle aged peasant said, still wringing his hat and glancing nervously around him.

“What did you see?” Kaiji asked, the rain coming down washed over his balding head, her demon-elf solid red eyes stared at him intently.

“Flaming barrel, went rollin down the street all crazy like, no cause for it, thats what got me. Lotta my friends, they looked at the barrel, but see I got no coverage, fishmongerin doesn’t pay much you know, so my stall, one of them barrels comes down and hits my lil spot, no way to pay to be healed by the Starwatchers or the guild. Nothing covering my fish neither, it gets busted up an burned and my stock destroyed, that’s it!” he smacked the back of his hat into his hand for emphasis, and shuddered at the thought before he half trailed off for the rest. “I was worried, kinda, that ther might be more ya know…” He scratched the thin wisps of brown hair that still covered his head and waited.

“Yes, of course, I understand…” Kaiji’s voice began to rise in pitch, her eyes widened as a faint hint of his meaning reached her, ‘Priceless! Priceless please, please be alright, please… Stars above, don’t let her be hurt…’ She lost her focus and her hands clenched into tight fists that squeaked the leather on her hands.

The peasant seemed to sense her agitation, his feet shifted nervously and his eyes darted to the sword hilt Sergeant Vargas was holding.

Kaiji snapped out of it when she felt Freyjin’s hand lightly on her shoulder, and the slender elven woman in military traveling clothing spoke instead. She threw back the hood of her cloak, allowing the rain to drench her head and run down her hair. “It’s OK, Mateo, we just want to find our own.” She said and gave him a fragile smile. “Our mistress values us all… so she has not forgotten her Priceless. Please… help us if you can. No harm will come to you, I promise in the name of Aiwenor.”

Her sweet, hopeful smile was combined with an outstretched hand that seemed tailor made to beg for help.

“Right, ah, I unnerstand. Ah, well so I looked up that hill for more ah them flamin barrels, cause like I said I gotta protect my stock’n my ass. Well there weren’t nothin.”

“No cart, no nothing? Nothing at all?” Freyjin jumped on the detail like a starving dog on a raw and bloody steak. Her eyes focused sharply and she felt her fingers go as tense as those of Kaiji.

“Right!” He nodded as fast as a dog with a bouncing treat in front it’s eyes.

“So somebody did that on purpose as a distraction, it wasn’t some lost cargo.” Freyjin stepped close to the man, putting herself in between him and his view of either Sergeant Vargas or Kaiji, close enough that she could cover his hands with her own. She did so, he stopped wringing his cap, and she asked with quiet encouragement, “After that, what did you see come past you, anything?”

“Couple’a carriages, not many though, I mean by that time’a day most people are where they gotta be cept for those goin out to buy from’em. Most a’them don’t use carriages, so…” He chewed on his lower lip, and Freyjin’s sharp eye caught the gesture. She pressed onward for more details.

“Carriages, any marked by a hotel, any indicating anything unusual?” He shook his head, then stopped. “Well, t’was one thin I thought was kinda odd’bout this one painted kinda red.”

“And?!” Kaiji asked with her heart leaping into her throat.

Freyjin moved closer to the fishmonger, pushing Kaiji’s barked question out of his mind, she held his hands a little more tightly and let her eyes well up. “Please… she’s one of ‘ours’. She didn’t do anything wrong, she’s a good slave, never hurt anyone, we just want her safe, you’ll help us, won’t you?”

“Course...ah, well it didn’t turn, that’s all.” He explained, and Freyjin cocked her head. “I don’t understand.”

She looked over her shoulder toward Kaiji and Vargas. They shrugged.

She looked then to the two soldiers beside the fishmonger. Their furrowed brows were no help.

“Please, master…” Freyjin lowered herself to her knees, still holding her hands over his, “I’m a Komestran… I don’t know what that means here… please… help me to understand.”

Mateo nodded in small rapid, jerking motions, “Well, see I sell fish up in the upper area close to the soldiers there, lucky ah got that spot, see it used to be my da’s, sellin to them on the cheap, that’s how I make a livin. Used to be real good money, on account of in my da’s time, there weren’t no other fishmongers there, course that idn the case now. S’why I can barely afford to pay the license an ahm right worried they’ll raise the price on me… ah, well anyway, you not been up there, any of yah?”

Sergeant Vargas and Kaiji both nodded, “Briefly.”

The fishmonger nodded, “Then you know you got a right nice view of a lot of Pas’en. Nice view like that yah just know I like lookin. Passes the time. I see a lot of carriages goin down that way, but they always turn, you got tha garment sellers west, sellin clothin of all kinds, you got them nice restaurants in the mids that a lotta the traders go to what got more money’n I do anymore. An you got them livin quarters in the east, and course the big hotel fer rich folk. Well so any carriage worth anythin, they gonna turn left or right cause they pickin someone up if it’s a private service, or if its a shopper, or anythin. Ain’t nobody with a carriage goin to keep goin, cause why would they? Lowers not gotta damn thing worth riddin too unless’n yah like poor folk an big piles a shit for the paddies an farms. But this red carriage, it kept goin.”

“Any markings? Insignias, like a hotel, or a noble house, anything at all?” Freyjin squeezed his hand gently, she stared up at him like she was looking at the savior of a member of her family. Kaiji could practically feel him growing taller, prouder, his back straightened up and his shoulders squared, he was no longer wringing his hat or looking around with any hint of nervousness.

“Sorry, nothin there, but that’s kinda strange too. I don’t know’bout Komestra, never left Pas’en. But if’n it's a private service, they want people to know it so they call for it. Like a label or somethin, or the footman, he’s gonna shout. Or he’s gonna have a route he always takes. If’n this were one of those…”

“Then you’d know it.” Freyjin grinned happily like she was a beggar he’d given a gold coin to.

“Right, an well, nobles, beggin your pardon, they like to be known, they’s a proud lot, this’s just got nothin, you know. Least not that I saw, an if it got nothin on the left, I betcha it didn’t have nothin on the right.”

Freyjin grinned more broadly, exposing her teeth, “And do you remember the driver?”

Mateo thought it over for a moment, and answered, “Yup, half elf, didn’t get a great look, but had kind of a sour face like he’d bought somma my fish an it turned out bad.”

“Are there a lot of half elves in this city?” Freyjin asked the guards, they traded a look with one another and shook their heads.

“Not that we know. I’ve lived here my whole life, slave. And it’s ‘mostly’ human. Handful of orcs, goblins, and some elves. But I can think of only having ever met a half a dozen half elves in my entire life here.” The left hand guard answered, and his right hand companion nodded in emphatic agreement.

Freyjin slowly stood up, “Thank you… thank you so much, master Mateo. When we find her, we’ll tell her about the sharp eyed fishmonger who helped to save her life.”

She rose and stepped back as the middle aged man blushed like he’d been kissed by a pretty girl for the first time. “Awww shucks… yer a nice slave, lookin for a lost’n like that. How can I go an’say nothin when I saw somethin…?”

Kaiji darted her hand out, grabbed him, and pulled him into an embrace, his eyes popped open, startled, but when he felt the warmth of her dark bosom and the tight thankful embrace, and the finest cloth he’d ever touched, he understood. “Thank you… thank you Master Mateo… with this… I have hope…” Kaiji came to her senses a moment later and let go, “My mistress has declared that the reward for information leading to her safe return is to be… ‘Beyond Price’ I can’t ‘know’ that what you’ve given us will do that. But… but I think it will. Here…” Kaiji reached into a pocket, and withdrew a coin of gold. “The mistress allows her most trusted slaves a small discretionary fund in spending. This is all that I have right now… and I give it to you… master Mateo, in gratitude.” She took his hand and drew it away from his hat, turning the palm up, she laid the coin into his palm with the greatest reverence.

He darted his eyes from the coin of gold to the purple tag and back again. “All that fer… that? You sure…?” He asked, sweat sprang to his forehead, only to be caught by the falling rain and washed away to the stone ground beneath.

“For the Priceless, that is if anything, too little.” Kaji’s dark long elven ears twitched beneath her horns, “If this leads to her return alive, the blessing of the Duchessa Aiwenor will come to you, and having seen her up close, lived with her, knelt to her…” ‘loved her?’ She quietly asked the last of her statement, but only of herself, before she carried on her promise, “I can say that whatever you imagine that means, you are not imagining enough.”

Mateo departed then, bowing deeply, holding the heavy golden coin like it was a divine relic. ‘If they will give so much for nothing but a slave? What will they do for the free?’ He wondered with a reverence that had no answer, all the way back to his home.