Bakarat raised a suspicious eyebrow,

"Really," he said with a slightly sarcastic drawl. "That is quite a grandiose statement. I trust you have some means other than high-flown words to persuade my associates and I of the soundness of this proposal?"

"Indeed," Mariat said, and she reached in her carrying bag and produced a corked and sealed bottle, which she placed delicately on the desk in front of the merchant. She carefully turned the bottle so that he could view its rich, red, full-bodied contents, and she made sure the label pointed in his direction so that he could read it.

The Toad looked even more like his namesake as his eyes bulged when he read the label. It was a bottle ofAquinta's finest vintage; ten years old and oak-barrel aged. Before the sacking of the vineyard, it would have brought at least a hundred gold pieces in the wine market. Now, being part of a limited edition of wine (the vineyard no longer being in operation), it might draw at least ten times that much in auction.

"Huh-uh-how many of these do you have, my good lady?" the fat merchant stammered. Mariat smiled, pleased at having taken Bakarat by surprise and gained the upper hand in negotiations.

The Rankan widow had not spent forty years as the wife of Ranke's foremost wine merchant and learned nothing. Her husband had taught her well the trade of doing business.

"Let us just say that I have enough to interest you and your associates. Perhaps now you would be so good as to arrange a meeting with them tomorrow afternoon in the common room of the Warm Kettle. I have rented that room from Shamut the proprietor, and he assures me that no one will disturb our business meeting."

She paused, smiling at the Toad's gaping maw. Bakarat was utterly surprised by the woman's quick-dealing business manner. However, he soon got control of himself as the engines of his devious mind went whirring into action, calculating how he could best turn this deal to his advantage.

"I believe I know of five men who will be most happy to hear your proposal for the sale of this fine vintage. However, if you will permit me to act as your agent in this endeavor, I will be happy to relieve you of the unpleasant tasks of business arrangements," Bakarat said, conveying himself as the soul of virtue and goodwill.

"I thank you for your generous offer," Mariat replied just as sweetly, "but I really could not burden you with so weighty a responsibility on my account."

She rose quickly, holding up her hand to stop any further objection.

"Enough of these pleasantries, though," she said, collecting the bottle from Bakarat's desk and replacing it carefully in her carrying bag. "I have other things to attend to today. Thank you, good sir. I look forward to seeing you and your friends tomorrow at the Warm Kettle."

With that she took her leave from Bakarat's establishment, and he attempted to delay her no longer. He had already formulated his plan for handling this upstart Rankan bitch. He would show her the cost of doing business in Sanctuary, and he would by all means maintain the upper hand in the distribution of the wine.

"Bartleby," the Toad called his scribe into his office.

"Yes, sir," the thin, weedy, long-nosed scrivener whined as he entered his employer's domain.

"Get me Madame Mariat's itinerary for the rest of the day," the fat merchant ordered. "And then contact our good servant. Master Mange, and tell him to meet me with his associates at the Vulgar Unicorn tonight at dusk."

Bartleby swallowed, knowing that the name of Mange meant some skullduggery was afoot. He hastened to comply with his master's wishes.

Molin Torchholder was a very busy man. Over the past years since coming to Sanctuary, he found that most bureaucratic matters had fallen squarely upon his shoulders, and that many of the more mundane governmental duties had become his responsibility. This was primarily due to the fact that Prince Kadakithis could not be bothered with such technicalities. The youthful prince was far too busy pursuing his idealistic dreams for the unification of Sanctuary's varied peoples, not to mention his ongoing "task" of keeping the Beysa occupied, mollified, and satisfied.

However, when word came to the Rankan priest that a woman named Mariat wanted to see him, he put aside his scheduling and planning for the rebuilding and continuing edification of Sanctuary to arrange an appointment to see her. The Torch had known her husband by reputation and had even met Mariat once or twice back in the heyday of Ranke's splendor. He had heard of the tragedy which had struck Aquinta, and he was now curious to find out why Mariat had come to Sanctuary, and what possible business she could have with him.

A soft knock came at Molin's door. It was Hoxa, his secretary, letting him know that Mariat was there to see him. The priest nodded for Hoxa to let the woman into his office.

"Greetings, madame," Molin said, rising and coming to meet her as if she were an acquaintance he had not seen for many long years. In actuality, that was the case, though he had not known her well back in Ranke.

"Lord Torchholder." Mariat curtsied as the priest kissed her hand. "It has been far too long since I have had the pleasure of your company."

"Please accept my deepest sympathies and condolences on the recent deaths in your family," Molin said with unfeigned concern. "Kranderon was a fine man and an astute businessman. He will be sorely missed by all who knew him."

"My thanks for your kindness and thoughtfulness," Mariat said, as she accepted the seat Molin offered her. He himself chose a seat next to hers, rather than returning to the chair behind the desk which he had occupied before her entrance. The priest did this as a show of respect, treating her as a peer rather than a subordinate.

It also occurred to the Torch that the woman had been speaking the finest Court Rankene since she had entered his office. She spoke it so naturally that he had slipped into the court language himself without even realizing it. It was going to be a pleasure to hold discourse with someone so cultured and polite.

"And please accept my sympathies, for I believe that you lost your beloved wife not too long ago," Mariat continued.

"Yes," the Torch replied. "But my wife and I had been estranged for some time. Even still, I believe that we can both understand the poignancy of grief which death can bring."

Molin paused, and then continued, trying to get the conversation away from the intensely personal subject at hand.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this timely visit?" the priest asked, broaching the subject as politely as possible.

"I have heard so much about you, Lord Torchholder, since I entered Sanctuary. People say that you have done wonders for this town, rebuilding the city walls and restoring order," Mariat began, smiling sweetly and demurely.

Looking into her face, which was very handsome for a woman of her years, the Torch realized that it had been a very long time since he had exchanged pleasantries with a woman so near his age and station. This interview was turning out to be an enjoyable interlude for the worryladen priest.

"You are most kind, madame. I have labored to bring this thief-ridden town up to some measure of respectability. Your kind comments are a tribute to what little success I have had." the priest said modestly.

"It's been more than a little success from my vantage point, my lord. Why, I have even heard it said in some parts of the Empire that Sanctuary is a place to come to start life anew," Mariat returned, maintaining the air of grace and decorum.

"Is this your intention, to start your life over in Sanctuary? I am sure that Kranderon has left you sufficiently provided for. Perhaps a retirement to one of the uptown estates would be of interest to you. I am sure I can arrange a lease for a reasonable price, between friends." Lord Torchholder was finding himself hoping that the woman would indeed move uptown and become a part of his social sphere.