Elvenbane

dutiful son would, taken his father's orders at face value and sent Mero on his way immediately.

When Mero did not arrive at his destination, there might...or might not...be a search sent out for him. The horse would be found...riderless, with everything intact. It would be assumed that Mero did, indeed, pass out and fall off his horse. No one would ever think that a slave might run off and leave such a valuable piece of property as a horse, if he was running away. Though the estate was patrolled, there were always wild beasts to be reckoned with, raiders from the wild humans and from rival elven lords, and packs of feral dogs. If a body was not immediately found, there would be no real concern. One slave more or less made very little difference to the running of the estate, especially if the slave happened to be Mero.

And that, so far as Dyran was concerned, would be the end of the problem. He would probably be relieved, if he thought about the disappearance at all.

In reality, Mero would be riding out on the route that Valyn was to take in the morning. He would push himself and his horse to the limit, while Valyn dawdled. And when he reached the manor of old Lord Ceinaor, an elven overseer of one of Dyran's enormous farms, he would abandon the horse and present himself to the Lord's overseer and hand over a note written by Valyn but signed with Dyran's seal. It styled Mero as a young assassin- cum-gladiator, sent to 'recover from injuries.' Lord Ceinaor would not know what to think; Dyran had never sent a human to the farm to recover before...but Dyran was not predictable. He might be trying his underling's loyalty, to see whether Ceinaor would obey a truly peculiar request. The human might have been sent as a threat. The human might be a spy. Or he might be recovering from a failed or partially failed attempt on someone else's bondling, and Dyran judged it best that he do so in obscurity.

When Valyn approached that manor, he would use his powers...and his knowledge of herbs, gleaned from Delia...to make his bondling bodyguard desperately ill. Once he reached the manor, he would see Mero, and 'commandeer' him to replace his sick servant.

Half of this plan was Valyn's, and half Mero's, It had been Valyn's notion to replace his own servant with Mero in some place where Mero was not known. Mero had come up with the ways and means to do so.

:You know, you could be really dangerous, given Half a chance,: Valyn thought wryly at his friend, as he helped him into his livery.

'Comes with practice, Valyn,' Mero replied in hand-sign. 'Practice...and the fact that you saved me from being conditioned like the rest. I can think for myself. Most humans don't have that luxury.'

Valyn didn't reply to that; there really wasn't a great deal he could say. He simply straightened Mero's tunic, and stepped away.

'Here,' he said, handing Mero what looked to be one note, but was actually two. The second one was to Lord Ceinaor, the first to the stable servants. The first was under Valyn's signature, the second under Dyran's seal. Valyn had half a dozen blank notes, already sealed, hidden away against emergencies. 'Take this down to the stables, and they'll give you a horse. Good luck, Shadow. I'll miss you.'

Mero took both, and pocketed them. 'Just so that nobody else misses me,' he said lightly, and Valyn winced.

But then he added, 'There's no one watching, not even by magic. I checked. Your honored father is getting his brains scrambled by the ever-lovely and talented Katrina. He's much too busy to worry about trifles like us.'

Valyn winced again, and blushed. His father's latest favorite concubine was rather...exotic. And utterly without shame. She'd even approached him, with an invitation that had filled him with confusion. Not that he hadn't gotten his share of experience with females...but...

It wasn't what she said, it was the way she had said it! And what she was doing while she said it!

But Mero would be gone in a few moments. Since no one was watching, he could do what he'd been longing to do since they had decided on this. He reached out, and...carefully...embraced his half-cousin.

'You take care of yourself, little brother,' he said, his voice thickening a little. 'I want to see your ugly face glaring at me from among old Ceinaor's servants.'

Mero returned the embrace, with interest. 'I'll be there,' he said huskily. 'You don't get rid of me that easily.'

Then he let go of Valyn's shoulders, and walked stiffly to the door. 'Luck ride with both of us, brother,' Valyn called softly after him, unable to think of anything else to say.

Mero turned, and grinned crookedly. 'Luck and a fair wind at my back...and a foul one in your face!'

And with that, he was gone. The door swung shut behind him; the door and wall were so well-made that Valyn could not even hear Mero's footsteps heading for the staircase.

The suite had never felt so empty before. Or sounded so empty. For the past several years, Valyn had never been anywhere without someone...usually Mero...along with him. Even on his own carefully supervised excursions to the harem. He was the heir; his safety was of paramount importance to Dyran's staff, who knew they would die to a man if anything ever happened to him. Now, for the first time, he was completely alone.

Valyn restrained his impulse to run after his 'little brother' and returned to his own room to pack.

Then went to bed, but kept waking every time he thought he heard a sound, then would lie staring up at the invisible ceiling for what felt like an eternity until he fell asleep again.

I wish I could really show him how much I love him, he thought, only now regretting the things he hadn't said all these years. I can't. I don't know how. All my life they've punished me every time I showed my feelings, and now...there's nothing, I feel it, but nothing gets past the surface. I haven't cried since I was two... most of the time I don't laugh, either. There's just...nothing. Like what's inside and what's outside are two different people.

He swallowed, and turned on his side, dry-eyed. I hope he understands how much there is I'm not telling him. I hope. If this doesn't work...if any thing happens to him...

It was a very long time until dawn.

Chapter 17

SHANA HELD HERSELF in her trance by sheer force of will. She was looking through another's eyes, that of a wizard-gifted child in charge of feeding the others in the slave pens. She didn't want to watch this, and yet she could not look away. There was a young woman in this pen; a child-woman who reminded her of Meg so much that Shana was trembling in reaction. She had been following this girl's story most of the afternoon, picking up information through the wizardling's ears, listening in on the conversations of guards.

The girl cowered in one corner of the slave pen; an ordinary human child, one without wizard-powers, one who simply had the misfortune to fail the promise of early beauty. At six, she had been stunning; at twelve, merely lovely. But at fourteen, in the midst of concubine training, she had put on a spurt of sudden growth. Her features had coarsened, her limbs lengthened. Now she was simply attractive.

That was not enough for a concubine. A concubine had to be supernally beautiful.

The girl, gently reared, who had never once had a voice raised in anger against her, much less a hand, had been sent to the common pens as a breeder. The guards, who seldom saw a girl as unspoiled and attractive as this one, were wagering who would get to enjoy her first.

But as Shana watched, surreptitiously, through her host's eyes, the decision was taken out of their