Oathbreaker

'Spring is aborning, and young love with it,' intoned a street minstrel, hoping that the buxom server would take notice of him.

'Young lust, you mean, rhymester,' laughed the second fighter. 'Arton's no fool. That's a nice little piece he brought with him out of the country -- and cheap at the price of a room, a bit of feeding, and a few gewgaws. One of these days I may go see if she's got a sister who wants to leave the cowflops for the city.'

'If you can get any girl to look at your ugly face,' sneered a third.

The mutter of good-natured wrangling carried as far as the second-floor room, where the young fighter had collapsed into a chair, groaning. The room's furnishings were simple; a bed, a table, a wardrobe and three chairs.

And an enormous wolflike creature on the hearth.

'Warrior's Oath, Keth -- you might make yourself lighter next time!' the Warrior groaned. 'My poor back!'

'If I'd known you were going to play border-bridegroom, I'd have helped you out, you idiot!' the brown-haired girl retorted, closing the shutters of the room's single window, then snatching a second chair and plopping down into it. 'Tarma, where the hell have you been these past few days? A note of three words does not suffice to keep me from having nervous prostrations.'

:I told you she was all right,: the kyree sniffed. :But you wouldn't believe me.:

'Warrl's right, Keth. I figured that he'd tell you if anything was wrong, so I wasn't going to jeopardize my chances by doing something marginally out of character. And I've been busy, as I said,' Tarma replied, rubbing her eyes. 'Damn, can't you do something about the way these spells of yours make my eyes itch?'

'Sorry; not even an Adept can manage that.'

Tarma sighed. 'Char has gotten the wind up about something -- maybe he's even getting some rumors about our work, who knows? Anyway, he's been keeping me with him day and night until I could find somebody he trusts as much as me to spell me out. How is the conspiracy business going?'

Kethry smiled, and ran her hands through her hair. 'Better than we'd hoped, in a lot of ways. Jadrek will be giving me the signal as soon as he's done with his latest client, so why don't we save our news until we're ail together?'

'Fine by me; I don't suppose you've got anything to eat around here?'

 'Why? Don't they feed you at the palace?'

'Having gotten leave to go, I wasn't about to stick around and maybe get called back just so I could feed my face,' Tarma retorted.

Kethry raised one eyebrow. 'Char's that nervy?'

Tarma spotted half a loaf of bread and a chunk of cheese on the table behind Kethry and reached forward to seize both. 'He's that nervy,' she agreed, slicing bits off the cheese with her belt-knife and alternating those tidbits with hearty bites of bread. She would have said more, but a gentle tapping came from the wall. Kethry jumped up out of her chair and faced the wall, holding both palms at shoulder height and facing it. The wall itself blurred for a little, then the door that had been hidden by Kethry's illusion swam into view. Jadrek pushed it open and stepped into the room.

There had not been a door there when they'd taken these two rooms; Jadrek's suite opened only into the inn, and Kethry's had two doors, the exterior and one like Jadrek's, opening on the inn corridor. But what could be done by hands could also be done by magic, and within one day of Kethry's taking possession of this room, she had made, then concealed, the door in their common wall. It was a real door and not a magic portal, just in case Jadrek ever needed to make use of it when Kethry was not present, for Kethry had set the spell of concealment so that he controlled it on his side of the wall.

'And how does the Master Astrologer?' asked Tarma, genially.

'Better than when he was Master Archivist,' Jadrek chuckled. 'I think I shall have Stefan find a successor. Astrology is a more lucrative profession!'

'Why am I not surprised?' Tarma asked sardonically. 'Gentle lies always cost more than the truth. I take it none of your 'clients' have recognized you?'

'It wouldn't be likely,' he replied mildly, taking the third, unoccupied seat around the little table.

'Most of my 'clients' are merchants' wives. When would say °^ (^CT' ^ave seen a Court Archivist?'