During the days that followed Arthur was left to his own means most of the time. He dined with William on two occasions and made certain to meet with a few of the other traders from Earth. Questioned about his sponsorship he simply told them one half of the truth. He could make more money by making his money work for him. Another deed breaking with custom, he knew. It would be months rather than years before Terran traders started sponsoring each other, but that was hardly his problem.

He used William's help to set up a totally different kind of business. William was more than helpful for all the wrong reasons and Arthur decided not to disclose the entire truth. He knew he was playing a dirty trick on Harbend when he hired a translator in secrecy.

Day by day, after Harbend had left to cover a day's worth of errands in preparation of his venture, Arthur stole out to meet his new contact. There had been preciously little time to plan what he had in mind, but within hours discreet spies reported what Harbend was doing and Arthur copied the actions as best as he could.

He was being used by everyone he hired, paying double or even triple the amount of money he should for the services he bought. It mattered little at the moment. Gambling that his position as an outworlder would protect him from anything more sinister than a scam, Arthur poured out coins making sure those receiving the excesses never learned that what they stole from him was less than what he had sometimes spent during a single day on Earth.

In two weeks he would have been forced to go back, but then Harbend's problems arrived like a gift from heaven. When that day arrived Arthur intended to be missing, and Harbend, even though he knew nothing about it now, would have much more of a trading partner than he had bartered for.

The frenzied activities served another purpose as well, one Arthur avoided thinking about. The days were always better than the nights. The days carried small problems he could solve rather than the nightmares he could but endure while he slept.

He even managed to set up a kind of bank account with one of the money houses making business with the traders' hall. It had been touch and go a couple of times, but his experience from long years of buying expensive services paid off, and even though he never knew if he was overplaying his part of a haughty outworlder trader he was secure that neither did his counterparts.

Less than a week after he started his underhand affairs reports told him that Harbend apparently was finished. Arthur promptly paid his hirelings off and booked a room for two in the excellent restaurant he by then paid a daily visit to. Harbend at least deserved to get the dismaying news in a stylish environment with a precious bounty of gorgeous food to cushion the strike.

On his way out from the hotel Arthur paid a messenger to run with a request for the meeting and briskly proceeded down the streets whistling happily to himself. He paid no attention to other pedestrians giving him surprised looks when he passed them by, leaving the unfamiliar tune like a whiff of perfume behind him. It might have been unfamiliar to them but it was immediately recognized by a majority of the fifteen billion populating the Terran sphere of influence as the theme framing all of his Golden Secrets shows, and Arthur only saw it as fitting on his way to a meeting where he would indeed disclose a golden secret.

The day was pleasant. Summer giving way to early autumn and not even the hours around noon were uncomfortably hot now. Feeling a bit lightheaded he picked up speed. He raced along a shortcut he'd found the day before and bumped into a group of children playing precariously close to the busy street. He excused himself but they didn't answer and scurried away shrieking with delight.

Suddenly suspicious he looked down and saw he was lacking his purse. That was the second time since he'd started to wear local clothes pickpockets had made away with his money.

He never thought of using the small handgun all traders were now equipped with after an especially ugly mugging several years earlier. He felt uncomfortable carrying a weapon among people, and like most traders he usually left it in his room.

It didn't matter as he only kept several copper and a few silver coins, matching the looks of his expensive outfit, in the purse he had dangling at his waist. Most locals carried the coins called shields, valuable enough for most casual transactions, in such purses. Arthur had a waistband where he kept most of his silver shields and all the gold marks he decided to bring.

He slowed his pace and started searching for a shop that could fill his needs. A few blocks along the street he found what he was looking for and purchased one velvet and one leather pouch to have a spare one.

The conversation with the shopkeeper was awkward to say the least, but with broken De Vhatic, shrugs, smiles and a lot of pointing he made his wishes known. He pocketed the leather pouch, dropped a few coins into the other and tied it to his belt. Hopefully he wouldn't run into another gang of pickpockets in the course one day, but nevertheless he felt a bit uneasy having more silver than copper hanging by his side. The real danger, he had been told, lay not in losing a few coins, but rather in loosing coins of too high a denomination. That could turn a cutpurse into a mugger.

Unfortunately there were no money traders in the part of Verd he was in so he decided to take his chances and he sauntered away in the general direction of the restaurant.

#

Colonel Trindai de Laiden sat slouched in a chair, posture belying his station in the imperial army. After twenty years of active service in the assault cavalry he had advanced to the lofty rank where he only gave orders to his desk and the papers cluttering it. Two inconvenient secrets disclosed and a demotion from general to colonel later he was, to his own immense relief, transferred to a special command.

Now he took orders from Madame de Felder, Keen's spy master, holding a position where he could do a real soldier's work. One, he admitted to himself, from which he no longer undermined other operations where too many prying eyes could see the flaws he pointed out. All in all a very satisfying solution to a shared problem.

He was clad in worn leathers revealing nothing of who employed him.

"... volunteers are reassigned?"

Trindai smiled. "Yes, the Feeble Incompetents are indeed reassigned." He put on the airs of a green recruit. "Being but a lawful citizen of Keen I dutifully reported what I witnessed at Krante Gates."

Mairild de Felder glared at him and he returned the favor with a growl.

"General de Markand had the idiots transferred to do their holy duty hunting practitioners of the forbidden arts along the coast south of Hasselden," Trindai ended the report.

Madame de Felder winced. "They'll encounter problems operating outside of our jurisdiction."

"They'll encounter swift and certain death at the hands of the raiders," Trindai added mirthlessly. "Just as you would have it. This way it's a military matter. No traces will lead back here."

He watched the older woman's tight smile. Where he was a soldier she was a predator, expertly equipped for the underhand machinations he disliked. Disliked but acknowledged the need for. Keen needed both kinds, as she needed craftsmen, scholars, farmers and traders.

Rigid adherence to ideals left nations open to scavengers. Like poor Chach that was torn apart by factions commanding enough swords to temporarily gain control of a county or two only to have that power wrested from them a generation later.

He even suspected she employed wielders of the forbidden arts whenever need was great enough, but as long as no one openly displayed the use of magic within the borders of Keen he was satisfied.

"The sky port?" she asked.

"Will be guarded by the Holy Inquisition henceforth," Trindai answered. "De Markand made it clear he wouldn't risk de Saiden's reputation by having that piss poor excuse for a military unit endangering our relations with the outworlders."

"Good. With that matter closed we'll proceed with the next item."

Trindai let go of his posture of tired disinterest. Now they were finally approaching the real reason for his presence. "Yes?"

"How soon can you have your men ready?" Madame de Felder asked making ready with pen and paper to jot down information and orders.

"Within a day, apart from Major Berdaler's squadron around Roadbreak." Trindai summed up the number of relays in his head. "With the use of the farwriter and another two days for rounding up the men, ah, four days before he can act on orders I send him."

"Excellent! He's to ride to Ri Nachi and escort traders to Braka."

Trindai smiled as the glimmer of interest grew to anticipation. "Ri Nachi is almost a season's travel from here, not to speak of Braka. May I ask for the reason?"

"More than that," de Felder answered. "You'll have a field command again," she added, giving him what he had hoped for. "An independent merchant has been sponsored into a full house. His name is Harbend de Garak, and he's reopening the land route to Braka for trade."

"Sounds expensive," Trindai thought aloud. "Especially if you plan to use my full command as escort."

"It is, and I am," she responded affirmatively, but there was a tired quality to her voice that had him worried.

He shot her a quizzical look.

"Look, harvest's been decent. Better than decent, but that still doesn't make the raiders go away."

Trindai waited patiently. Madame de Felder sometimes explained her reasons when all but the best of officers would have stayed silent.

"House de Garak is setting up a major caravan. With luck he might even squeeze a profit out of it, but as far as Keen is concerned it's nothing but grand theater."

"Yes?" Trindai said no longer certain he wanted to know.

"We desperately need that show. At the end of the festival I'll have a pompous declaration made to enforce the impression that Keen knows how to take matters in hand." She offered him a harried expression.

"Or else?"

"Or else you and de Markand along with most of our senior staff will be commanding troops against our own within the year. The Ministry of War as well as the Ministry of Commerce gives us two years, three at most, before the border provinces starts revolting."

Darkness! "I have the utmost respect for Olvar de Saiden, but the greedy bastards in commerce, well..."

"I've had the estimations confirmed by, let's call it external sources," de Felder countered.

When the need is great enough, Trindai thought, and for the first time in years he was discomforted by the fear of the unknown. Still, there was a part to play he knew well enough. He rose. "I take it you've arranged for the guaranteed absence of any mercenaries apart from my men," he muttered as he left in order to gather his men.

Madame de Felder nodded. The silence was only broken by the ringing of his heeled riding boots on marble floor as he marched out.

#

Harbend knew he was being followed. He hadn't, for a day or so, but after Ramdar insisted that Vildir help with the acquisitions of weapons and traveling gear it hadn't taken long before the horse-lord pointed out a number of customers who seemed strangely out of place. Some of them were very good, not only copying the motions of buying wares but paying and leaving with the chosen items as well.

Harbend suspected they had both missed some of their watchers, but Vildir assured him there was nothing truly dangerous about the situation, and after a couple of days Harbend dismissed it all as an irritating method one of the other houses employed in order to check his whereabouts.

In the end he bought a crossbow, two quivers filled with quarrels to go with it and a rapier, the closest he would get to the slender swords favored in Khi. A leather jerkin was all he would carry as armor.

When it came to choosing riding gear and equipment for spending long periods of time outdoors Harbend bowed to Vildir's superior experience. Axes, knifes, sharpening stones, fire starters in waterproof containers, a large tarpaulin and, of all things, a large bell filled the list of essentials. A multitude of other items Harbend was more familiar with were added and lastly Harbend started placing orders for items of trade.

The roles of expertise were turned and Vildir only showed a passing interest as they walked in and out of shops selling perfumes, books and a wild variety of small items displaying the mechanical prowess of Keen, like hand held clocks, instruments for measuring exact distances and regulators for gases and liquids.

Harbend quickly ran out of money. When he received a message requesting his presence at his favorite restaurant he was relieved Arthur had called the meeting. It would be awkward anyway to remind him of the money needed for purchasing horses, wagons and the bulky furniture meant for the market in Braka.

Hiring armed men for protection would be hideously expensive, but without those in place no one in Erkateren would be willing to join the caravan and share the expenses.

Around noon, Harbend locked the door to his office behind him, something he made into a habit after finding his relatives in his home. Uncle Ramdar and Vildir had taken rooms in Two Worlds. With trade as it was Harbend even managed to wriggle a discount from the unhappy manager, but still, lodging his relatives in the way the family name required depleted his already strained resources in a dangerous way.

Harbend shuddered at the thought of what could have happened back home in Khi and took to the streets waving to get the attention of a nearby coach.

"The Tree," Harbend said to the driver and climbed inside. Every coach driver in the city knew the location of the famous restaurant and with a tug the coach started moving.

The streets passed in a blur, not because of any dangerous speed, but because Harbend was too busy counting how many days it would be before he ran out of money. He grimly realized he was acting out the perfect copy of Arthur staring out the window without seeing anything he passed by. The ride took but a short while and he found himself walking down the path in the garden before he came to himself enough to care about his surroundings.