Christen and Rico woke up once we reached the village. The sun was peaking over the mountains by that time. Few houses had smoke coming out of makeshift chimneys. Though the rest of the world was waking up, I myself was exhausted, and needed a good rest.

“You should rest.” Christen said and she regarded the village. She likely wasn't going to find anything worth stealing here. “Rico and I can find a place to stay.”

I glanced back at Rico, who was again leaning out of the window of the caravan. They didn't think I should rest. They wanted me to hide in the caravan so that they could have a few moments to themselves. It wasn't a rare occurrence when I woke up from my already broken slumber, and heard them laughing into the quiet day, then shushing themselves, remembering that people who would wish to kill us, and could easily kill us all may well have been behind us, could have been looking for us, listening to us, perhaps remembering me, trying to sleep

“No.” I said, “I want to know where we are before we rest.” Christen looked at me for a moment, waiting, I suppose for more explanation. I shrugged, “I sleep better when I knew everything is alright, and everything is secure.

I stepped down from the caravan, and began to lead the horses through the small village.

The village had obviously grown spontaneously, and without plan. Only a few of the foot-beaten roads were large enough to pull my wagon through. Houses seemed to have been built wherever there happened to be enough room. Few people had their doors open, letting the heat out from what was indeed only small, one room houses where women cooked breakfast for their small families. Most people seemed far to intent on their own little worlds within the smelly little village, and to busy to take note of a few travelers wandering through their village, save for mothers pulling small children away form the doorways as we passed, eying us carefully.

“They don't seem very friendly, do they?” Christen asked slowly.

“No.” I said, “They don't. Of course, it's likely that everyone here is quite poor, as you can see-” I waved a hand around at the shabby little houses, “- and we are wandering through their village with a couple of horses. Of course they think we are merchants or lords.”

“Shouldn't that be good? We can help.”

“...It's not like that, Christen.” Rico said. He didn't speak much, so I was surprised when he did. “These are likely survivors from Artis. Likely, they have already sent word to the the king, and to merchants, and their requests for help have been denied. Likely merchants had come here, looking to buy artwork, and turned around without so as much a thought for helping to bury the dead. No, they wouldn't be fond of lord or merchants at the moment.”

“And opposed to the alternative-” I said, “Which is the possibility, and indeed the fact that we are thieves and assassins-” Rico cleared his voice. “- and a mage, we likely won't be welcomed here.”

“Then why did we come?” Christen asked.

“If we can manage to talk to someone, then we can hide the caravan, and perhaps get some food.”

I heard a giggle from behind me. I turned around, and looked up. On the dangerous roof of one of the small houses were two small boys. I didn't see right away what it was that they had done, but after a moment it became quiet clear as a great log came falling from the house and down towards the caravan.

I cursed, and pulled Dawn and Dusk forward, getting the caravan out of the way. Rico, however, had to decide to be an idiot. He stepped before the falling log, and waved his hands before it. It exploded in a brilliant display of sparks and embers, which singed the ground, and floated towards a nearby house.

Of course, the little fire that he made to burn the log caused no damage, no physical damage. However, the boys on the roof gave a sudden scream, and scrambled down.

“It's a mage! Run!”

I cursed again, rubbing my forehead with the palm of my hand. I leaned agains the caravan. “Nice going, Rico.” I said as I watched several men wandered out from their houses. One of the boys ran up to a man in a short tunic and pointed at Rico. “Now they won't be worried that we might be lords or merchants, they will know that you're a mage. A mage that uses fire. Any survivors of this village won't-”

As I spoke, a group of men walked up to Rico, and stood before the charred pile of dust that used to be a log.

“Now, look here!” He snapped, “What do you mean by trying to burn down our house, mage!”

“I didn't!” Rico protested, “That kid... The log just fell down and almost fell on us!”

“Really-” Christen said softly, “ The log fell, and he was just trying to keep it from hurting-”

The man gave Christen a look that could have silenced a storm. Then he put his attention back to Rico. “Leave, mage.” He said, “Before we decide to break a few bones before throwing you out.”

I sighed. “Look.” I said carelessly, “We didn't come here for any trouble. We happen to be only travelers, weary after many long days of travel. We would just like to rest here, perhaps not even a day. We would like to buy some food.”

“You're probably a mage too.” The man said, “Sent by the same mage who burned down the village the first time.”

An old man walked out of the crowd, and pointed at me. “I know him!” he said, “The night before Artis burned, he went into Janace's house! I bet he's a mage”

“Don't be ridiculous.” I snapped. The pendant was the only thing magical about me, and couldn't even use it. “Look, if you're upset about the log, I'll pay to replace it. Just let us rest here a little.”

“No,” the man snapped, “You'll be leaving now.”

“Maybe we should take their horses!” Another man called from the gathering mob.

“Take the caravan!”

“Take the girl!” Another called out, and a bunch of men laughed and crowded in. I sighed, this would get messy.

Then, a bright clear voice cut through the muttering and catcalling of the mob. “No one will harm them!” It said. The voice was familiar, but different, like a familiar instrument playing a different tune. The crowd parted as a woman made her way through. My innards chilled as she came into view. Her light brown hair fell down around her shoulders, and her blue eyes which once, long ago sparkled like moonlight lay dead and old in her face. “Or will this be how our new village, our new Artis greets it's new guests?”

“The red-head, he's a mage! And the brown haired one visited Janace-”

“Janace was a great artist, he had many visitors.” He looked at the Rico a moment. “As for you, I do not know why you choose to come here, but if you will remain to rest in my village, then I will ask you to not use your powers again. Some of us are still tender concerning the lost of Artis.”

“But Lady Ridia!”

Ridia turned sharply and gave a cold stare at the man who spoke. He slunk away into the crowd, which disappeared before us like the morning mists in the brightest sunlight. Then she turned back to me.

“You made quite the entrance, Stiri.” She said. “Causing confusion and turmoil in your wake. But what else should I expect from you.”

“I didn't know you lived near hear, Ridia. And since when did you become a Lady? Married into it, I suppose.” I cursed myself for being so sharp, for taking a jab at a wound that may or may not have been there still.

“It no longer matters to you, does it?” She snapped. She looked from me, to Rico and to Christen. “At any rate, follow me. There is an empty house in the village. A family recently decided to abandon the struggle for a new village and left to Rawlin. You can use their house for the time. You can rest, you can eat. You can do whatever you like. So long as you don't cause trouble for my village, you can do whatever you wish. I don't care.”

She turned on her heel, and began to walk away. Silently, I took the reigns, and followed her.

“It's lucky you seem to know her.” Christen said in a whisper, “Otherwise we might have been in trouble back there.”

There were many words I had in mind at the moment. Lucky was not one of them.

***

I was in my caravan and thought I was tried I couldn't sleep. There were too many distractions in my head. So, I had drank a bottle of wine before trying to sleep. I went from a strange, nebulous, shapeless dream to a dream involving something trying to knock down my caravan. Then I woke up and heard a knocking on my door. Muttering, I crawled over and pushed the door open. Outside in the midday sun, Christen stood before the doorway. Her shadow thankfully threw itself into my face so I wasn't half blinded.

“I want to talk to you.” she said, walking into the caravan.

“...Sure, come in, I wasn't doing anything. I surly wasn't sleeping.” I reached over for my bottle of wine, and leaned back on the front wall of the caravan; all the other walls were covered in shelves, filled with secured bottles of poison, or weapons of various kinds. Christen sat next to me. I held out the bottle of wine. She took it, and regarded the bottle in the bright light coming from the door, the light ebbing through the bottle turned her face pink.

“What.” I said. “You woke me up, I hope it's important.”

“... Well, not really important... It's not a matter of life or death.”

“Then what is it? Why did you wake me?”

Christen played with the bottle in her hands a little. She had yet to take a sip. “I was talking to Ridia.” she said.

I kept my face as blank as I could. It was her that had kept me up, and her that had originally let my dreams take shape.

“What of?”

“... Well, she was asking me... She more or less asked me what I was to you.” Christen said.

“I see.” I said slowly. “She asked if we were... Lovers?”

Christen nodded, then shook her head. “Well, it wasn't quite like that. She didn't right out ask.”

“What did she say then?”

“Does it matter?” Christen said.

“It might.”

Christen shrugged. “She just asked a lot of questions. She asked how long I had known you. She asked how we met, where I came from-”

“Not so strange questions.” I said. “Consider her an old acquaintance with whom I had fallen out of contact with.”

“She asked me if you were 'attached'. She hadn't asked Rico any questions... Actually, she had gotten him to go and catch some fish from the lake for a meal. So... I felt like...”

“You came to the conclusion that she thought that I was, as you said. 'attached' to you.”

Christen nodded. “I told her that I was traveling with you and Rico, who were friends and allies. That's all. But then when I asked her how she knew you-”

I put my hand out for the bottle. Christen handed it back, I took a deep drink. “She didn't say anything, did she?”

Christen shook her head, “Nothing. She said just what you said, actually. That I should consider her an old acquaintance.”

I shrugged. “You woke me to tell me all this.”

“No.” Christen said. “I'm worried that...I'm worried that she might do something to hurt us. I don't think she likes you. She's interested in you, and in me, not yet so much in Rico, but give her time and I'm sure she'll have lots of questions. What if she's working for Kos? What if she's trying to-”

“If she were working for Kos, she wouldn't need to ask any more questions. She already knows who I am. Besides that, she's not working for Kos.”

“Then why is she asking so many questions.”

“Why would Kos be interested if I was 'attached'.”

Christen looked at me blankly for a moment. “Stiri, he would use whoever you were attached to in order to get to you.”

“Isn't that true. Good thing I'm not. You're wise to keep that fact in mind”

“Then why is she asking all these questions!?”

I stared into the bottle for a moment. She didn't matter to me, did she? What would it matter then if I told Christen how I knew her. If only so she would settle down and rest a little, if only so she would let me sleep. because of course Ridia meant nothing to me. Nothing.

“Ridia and I-” I stopped, considered my words, and started again, “Ridia was a whore in Teans.” I said, “A whore that I happened to visit frequently... about ten years ago perhaps.” I stopped a moment, and counted the winters, each one I could clearly remembering passing with the slowness of a frozen snail. “Yes, ten, maybe eleven years ago. She thought that I was going to take her with me when I left town, but I didn't, and she... Didn't take that well to say the least.” I took a deep drink from my bottle. “I haven't seen her since. I guess she's asking because of that.”

“Were you.. Were the two of you lovers then? or was she just-”

“She was a whore. That ought to be enough. I just happened to sleep with her a lot...” I took another drink.

“That's not all.” Christen said softly.

“What makes you say that?”

“... I admit that I don't know much,” she said, “Much about thieves and whores and such, but I have heard stories. I would think that a woman who was simply a whore, and a man who was just a customer would leave it at that. I don't think their relationship would really become more then that of a bartender to the village drunk. I don't think she would have asked all those questions, and she wouldn't have taken you leaving badly, unless she had reason to.”

Christen was sharp, I'll give her that. True, she didn't know much, but she seemed to have good understanding of people. “ When I first hired her-” I said, “ she was... a woman of little experience. At least, it was her first time on the streets. That may have had something to do with it. Also, I went to her a lot, and so she didn't have to go to other. less reputable men wandering on the streets.” I thought suddenly of the large, very old merchant who I saw trying to buy her the night after my first night with her. I remembered sweeping around the corner, and pulling her out of sight, and into the inn in which I was staying. I remembered her crying into me, thanking me, cursing herself, cursing the position she had gotten into. I remembered her clinging to my tunic, her slight frame shaking.

I took a deep drink from the wine bottle. “That's all.” I said. “It's nothing to worry about. A little bit of history between her and I...”

Christen nodded, and stood up. “I'm sorry for bothering you.” She said. “I was just worried. I don't want to see this village burn to the ground. I don't want...” She trailed off, then looked at my dagger, laying on the floor. “I don't want anyone getting hurt.”

I laughed. “Dream on.” I said. “You're a thief, I'm an assassin with a highly prized pendant around my neck, and Rico's a mage, and also a member of the Vanguard. The only thing we know about our futures is that we will be hurt.”

Christen bowed her head, and opened the door. Before she left, she turned again, looking at me. The door was open, the light making her face a dark blur. “One more question?”

“Go on.” I said.

“...Was she just a whore to you?”

“Yes.” I said. I had expected the question. I had expected the question for years, only I didn't expect it coming from Christen. I had expected it to come from Ridia.