Wigg looked over at Tristan. "Is this all you want?" he asked sarcastically.

"As a matter of fact, there is one more thing," the prince answered boldly. "But it is no less important." He glanced over at Tyranny to see a look of surprise on her face. "She and I haven't discussed this last issue, but I hardly think she'll mind." He faced Wigg again.

"Of the pirate vessels that were captured and are now being escorted home by the Minion fleet, I shall give her one dozen," he went on. "I shall also order my Minions to make whatever repairs the vessels might require, while Tyranny goes about hiring the additional crewmembers she will need." He looked back to Tyranny again, and now it was her turn to smile. Tristan gave her a wink.

Stunned, Wigg sat back in his chair. As usual, Faegan produced a broad smile at Wigg's discomfiture.

"I hope you have a very good reason for all of this," the lead wizard finally replied, his voice little more than a whisper.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Tristan replied. Reaching down into his boot, he withdrew the ancient scrap of vellum and unceremoniously placed it in the center of the table.

"A simple piece of vellum?" Wigg asked quizzically. "I don't understand."

"I believe this came from the Scroll of the Vagaries," Tristan said. "I found it hidden in my boot. It was secretly placed there by someone while I was unconscious. It matches identically the color and texture of the Scroll of the Vagaries I saw atop Krassus' desk on board his ship. It was clear that pieces had been cut away from it, and I believe this to be one of them. I think the pieces are being used by Grizelda, Krassus' herbmistress, in an attempt to find the Scroll of the Vigors. If that's true, it puts them far ahead of us in this race, I'm afraid. Indeed, for all we know they may have already found it. Someone is trying to help us-that much seems certain. But I don't know who that might be. In any event, had Tyranny not saved me, this would not be in our possession. We may eventually have more to thank her for than we can ever know."

Faegan leaned forward over the table, his eyes flashing with curiosity. "Do you mean to say that you have actually seen one of the scrolls?"

"Yes."

"Please describe it for us."

"It was approximately one meter long, about half as wide," Tristan answered. "It seemed very tightly wound, and a golden rod ran down through its center. Golden knobs adorned each end of the rod. What I could see of the parchment was covered with Old Eutracian. A solid gold band, also engraved in Old Eutracian, secured the document around its middle. And as I said before, it appeared that blank pieces had been cut away from its exposed corners, presumably to aid Krassus' herbmistress in her search for the other scroll."

Faegan asked Shailiha to hand him the parchment. She did so. After feeling it, smelling it, and examining it in the light of the chandelier, he placed it carefully down on the table and sat back in his chair. As was so often his habit, he stared out at nothing, mindlessly stroking his cat.

"Well?" Wigg asked impatiently.

"This is made of the same material as the Tome of the Paragon," Faegan said. "Therefore, this ages-old sample may well have been produced by either the Ones Who Came Before, or by the Guild of the Heretics. But no matter which faction produced it, this ancient scrap adds weight to Tristan's argument that it was taken from the actual Scroll of the Vagaries."

He sat back in his chair. "Amazing…," he added softly, his words trailing off.

Wigg asked to have the scrap passed to him. After examining it, he handed it to Abbey. "What do you think?" he asked her gently. "Can you use this to find the other scroll?"

"Perhaps," she mused as she looked it over. "But needless to say, the process must go as planned. I have no desire to repeat the calamity that occurred in the courtyard."

"What calamity?" Tristan asked.

"That is a topic best left for later," Wigg answered, making it obvious that he did not want to speak of it before Tyranny and Scars. "Right now, however, I would like to make my decision regarding your captain friend."

Several quiet moments passed as the lead wizard weighed his options. Then he turned his brilliant, aquamarine eyes toward Tyranny, and she felt their power go straight through her. Tristan held his breath.

"I will grant all that Tristan asks in your behalf," Wigg said to her solemnly. "As he says, it is probably now in our own best interests to do so. But before I do, you must agree to two provisos."

"And those are?" Tyranny asked.

"First, that you conduct all of your nautical activities under our aegis alone," Wigg answered sternly. "This shall also be spelled out in your letters of marque. The news that piracy has resurfaced in Eutracia is disturbing, to say the least. So far, your unsolicited services to the monarchy have been exemplary. Therefore, I will grant all that the prince has asked for on your behalf. But should we receive any word that you are using your funds or your newly acquired fleet to violate Eutracian law, or to enhance your own wealth outside of what shall be allowed by the letters of marque, we shall take swift and decisive action against you. In addition, you are to visit the royal palace no less than once every three months, at which time you shall relinquish our percentage of whatever bounty you have taken, and give us your written reports."

Sitting back in his chair, Wigg placed his hands flat on the tabletop. "My second condition is that all of your expenses-including the purchase of further vessels, their maintenance and repair, and the payment of your crews-must come either out of your share of the booty, or the funds that have come your way as a result of this bargain," he added. "As part of this agreement, we may rescind our letters of marque at any time of our choosing, and for any reason we deem necessary. That is how it has always been, even going as far back as Isaac. But until you see fit to retire, or we see fit to retire you, it seems you now work for us, young lady. As does your rather huge, very quiet first mate."

Tyranny had barely dared dream that the things the prince had told her might be true, much less that she would be granted such gifts and privileges. She looked over at Scars, and he nodded his approval. She turned back to the table.

"Thank you," she said softly, her voice cracking. "Thank you all."

"Oh, don't thank me quite yet," Wigg answered with a sigh. "I haven't written out a proper letter of marque in over three centuries. I'm not even sure I can remember how one goes. For all I know, I may end up giving you the recipe for pheasant under glass."

Everyone at the table laughed. Then Tristan decided that it was time for him to reveal what might be Tyranny's most valuable secret of all.

"There is something else that our new friend has agreed to provide us with," he said as the table finally quieted down. "She believes she has actually seen the island fortress where Krassus is keeping the slaves. She has marked it on her charts, and is willing to make duplicates of them for us."

"Is this true, child?" Faegan asked breathlessly.

This time Scars decided to speak. "It is indeed," he answered for his captain, in his booming voice. "When we first came upon the fortress, I marked out our position and entered the location on the charts myself."

Everyone except Geldon, Tyranny, and Tristan turned toward the war-torn, bare-chested colossus.

"Uh, thank you, Scars," Wigg said awkwardly, as this was the first time he'd heard the eloquent first mate speak. "I should like to receive those copies of your charts at your earliest convenience."

The newly minted privateers nodded back.

Dawn would soon be creeping through the windows, and everyone around the table was clearly exhausted. Still, there remained things that Wigg desperately wanted to tell Tristan-things that couldn't wait, and that could only be said in private. He looked up at the group.