"I do not recall that you ever had any great warmth or respect for my husband," Keffria said stiffly. If Brashen Trell had been alone, she might have felt more kindly toward him, but his strange companion put Keffria's hackles up. She had heard too many peculiar things about her. She did not know what these two were after, but she doubted it would be to anyone's benefit but their own.

"Warmth, no. Respect, yes. In his own way, Kyle Haven was a competent captain. He just wasn't Ephron Vestrit." He considered her stiff stance and cold eyes. "Tonight, at the meeting, Althea asked for help. That's what I've come to offer her. Is she home?" His bluntness was appalling. "Perhaps at a more suitable time…" Keffria began, but her mother cut her off.

"Let them in. Bring them to the study. Keffria, we don't have the luxury of being picky about our allies. Tonight, I am willing to listen to anybody's plan to make our family whole again. No matter how late they come calling."

"As you will, Mother," Keffria said stiffly. She moved aside and let them enter. The foreign woman dared to give her a sympathetic glance. The woman even smelled odd as she passed Keffria, to say nothing of her strange coloring. Keffria had no quarrel with most foreigners. Many of them were both charming and fascinating. But this bead-maker made her uneasy. Perhaps it was the way the woman assumed equality, no matter what company she was in. As Keffria followed them reluctantly down the hall to the study, she tried not to think of the nasty rumor about this woman and Althea.

Her mother did not seem to share her misgivings. Despite the fact that she and Keffria were both in their house-robes, she welcomed them in. She even rang Rache to ask her to bring in some tea for their visitors. "Althea has not returned home yet," Ronica told them before Brashen could ask. "I'm waiting up for her."

He looked concerned. "That was a harsh prank played upon Trader Restart. I wondered at the time if worse awaited him at home." He stood abruptly. "You probably have not heard. Bingtown has been very disturbed tonight. I think I had best go seek for Althea. Have you a horse I might borrow?"

"Just my old-" Ronica began, but at that moment, there was a noise at the door. Brashen stepped into the hall to view the entry with an alacrity that betrayed his concern.

"It's Althea, and a boy," he declared, and strode off to meet her as if this were his home and she the guest. Keffria exchanged a look with her mother. Although Ronica looked only puzzled, Keffria was feeling increasingly affronted by his odd behavior. Something was not right about that man.

SHE TRIED TO TAKE THE BOY'S HAND TO LEAD HIM TO THE DOOR, BUT HE drew back from her touch. Poor lad. How badly had he been treated, to fear the simple touch of a hand? She opened the door and gestured him inside. "It's all right. No one's going to hurt you. Come inside." She spoke slowly and reassuringly. She wasn't sure he even understood her. He hadn't spoken a word since they'd left Davad's house. It had been a long weary walk in the dark, with only dark thoughts to occupy her. She'd failed badly tonight. She'd talked out of turn at the Council's meeting, and possibly hastened its early adjournment. The Council hadn't even formally agreed to hear their concerns. She'd been forced to face what Davad Restart had become; she feared there were many other Traders who had slid down just as far. And her quick tongue had burdened her with a boy she had no means to care for. She'd brought that down on herself. She wanted nothing so much as a bath and her bed, but she supposed she'd have to see to the boy's needs first. At least, little else could go wrong tonight. Then she thought of facing Keffria and her mother after all she'd said to the Council. Her mood plummeted.

The boy had come up the steps but made no move to go inside. Althea opened the door wide, and stepped inside. "Come on in," she coaxed.

"Thank Sa you're all right!"

She jumped and spun about at the deep masculine voice behind her. Brashen was bearing down on her. Relief shone on his face, to be instantly replaced by a frown. A moment later he was chewing her out as if she were an incompetent deckhand.

"You're damn lucky you weren't waylaid. When I heard you'd driven Restart's carriage off, I couldn't believe it. Why would you throw in with an ass like that, with feelings running so high against… oh. What is that?" He halted a step away from her, his expression changing. He lifted a hand to his nose.

"S'not me!" The boy beside her piped up indignantly. A Six Duchies' twang twisted his tongue. "S'her. She's got shit aloover'er." At Althea's outraged glare, he shrugged apologetically. "Y'do. Y'need a bat' " he added in a small voice.

It was the final blow. It was too much to endure. She transferred the frown to Brashen. "Why are you here?" she asked. The words came out more bluntly than she'd intended.

Brashen's eyes traveled up and down her filthy robe before coming back to her face. "I was worried about you. As usual, you seemed to have survived your impulses. But, set that aside, I have something very important to discuss with you. Regarding going after Vivacia. Amber and I think we have a plan. You might think it's stupid, you probably won't like it, but I think it will work." He spoke hastily, his words coming too fast as if challenging her to disapprove. "If you'll only listen and think about it, you'll come to find it's really the only way to save her." He met her eyes again. "But that can wait. The boy is right. You should wash first. The smell is pretty bad." A small smile came and went on his face.

It was too close an echo of his words when they'd parted in Candletown. Was he mocking her, to remind her of that, here and now? How dare he speak so familiarly to her, inside her own home? She scowled at him. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but the boy's voice cut him off. "Nothen' stenks wors'n peg shet," the boy agreed cheerily. "Doon't let her get et on'yer," he cautioned Brashen.

"Small chance of that," she told them both coldly. She met Brashen's eyes. "You can let yourself out," she told him. As she stalked by him, he gaped after her. The boy she could forgive; he was only a lad, in a foreign place and a strange situation. Trell had no such excuse for his manners. She'd had too long a day to listen to anything from him. She was exhausted, filthy and, Sa help her, hungry. Light and voices came from her father's study. She'd have to face her mother and Keffria as well.

By the time she reached the door of her father's study, she had put a facade of calmness on her face. She stepped into the pleasant room, well aware that the smell of pig offal preceded her. She'd get it over quickly. "I'm home, I'm safe. I brought a little boy with me. Davad was using him as a stable boy… Mother, I know we cannot take on any more burdens just now, but he was tattooed as a slave and I simply couldn't leave him there." The look on Keffria's face was one of social horror. Althea's explanation halted as she met Amber's eyes. She was here, too?

The slave-boy stood in the doorway, pale eyes wide. His gaze darted from person to person. He did not speak. When Althea attempted to take his arm to pull him into the room, he snatched his hand away from her. She gave a false laugh. "I think it's the blood and dung. He didn't want to ride with me on the horse; that's what kept me so long. When I couldn't get him to mount with me, we left the horse and came home on foot."

Althea glanced about for rescue. Keffria was staring past her. Althea glanced over her shoulder. Brashen Trell stood slightly behind her, arms crossed, looking very stubborn. He met her gaze steadily. His expression didn't change.

"Come in, boy. No one will hurt you. What's your name?" Ronica sounded weary but kind. The lad stayed where he was.