"You three are to kidnap the children," Bakarat continued. "And make sure that you do not harm them. Then take them to the normal holding place and wait for further instructions." Bakarat finished his orders with giving the men Mariat's description. Then the trio of bandits rose and left the Vulgar Unicorn to fulfill their errand.

After they left, Bakarat called one of the local harlots over to his table. As the fat man was distracted with her attentions, the stranger seated behind him slid off his chair and wove his way through the crowd to the door. Progress was slow and cumbersome, due to the crowded conditions, the krrf tea the man had drunk, and the anxiety which was quickly overcoming him.

As he moved through the room, his cloak fell to one side, revealing a mandolin which was slung across his shoulder.

Seeing it, one of the tavern patrons cried for the minstrel to give them a song. Although the man had originally come to this dive in hopes of such employment, he turned it down now as a far more important matter possessed his mind.

He reached the door and miraculously avoided any brawls caused by bumping into the Unicorn's uncouth clientele. He escaped into the night and paused briefly to breathe the unpolluted air outside- Of course, the three men he was looking for had already disappeared.

Taking a deep breath, Sinn took off in a run to make his way out of the Maze.

As he wound his way back through the alleys and twisting turns of the portion of town called the Maze, Sinn cursed his krrf-muddled senses.

Part of his success as a minstrel was due to the fact that he etched every detail of everywhere he went indelibly into his mind. Now, however, he was in a state of panic, fearing for the lives of his friends. And the drugged tea he drank was no help as he struggled to remember the course out of this rat hole. His heart sank as he realized that the thugs would probably reach the Warm Kettle long before he would have a chance to get there and warn Mariat of her danger.

He swore for the one-thousandth time to kick the habit of taking krrf. This time, he had an impetus which he felt might make his oath stick, The bard skidded to a dead halt at an unfamiliar intersection. He looked around him bewildered, his heart leaping up into his throat and its very beat screaming accusations of ineptitude at him.

Then he spotted a familiar landmark, a house with red-painted shutters down the right-hand road. He took off again and passed through a shadowy lane. His hopes were just beginning to rise when a figure leapt out of the shadows. Catching him by the arm, it spun him around to face the bare steel of an unsheathed stiletto.

"Since you're in such a hurry," the thief whispered, his rank breath rich with garlic and beer, "you won't mind if I relieve you of the heavy burden of your purse. That way, you can get where you're going much faster." The thief sneered as he motioned with the knife for Sinn to give him what he wanted.

The sudden shock of the confrontation cleared the bard's head. As the drug's effects dissipated, he drove the reason-freezing panic from his mind.

Sinn nodded condescendingly and reached slowly into his cloak. The thief licked his lips, expecting a nice haul from one so richly dressed as the minstrel was.

To his surprise, the thief suddenly found himself looking down the blade of a fancy short sword. The moonlight gleamed wickedly off its sharpened edge, promising death.

The minstrel's quick and deft movement had been a single blur of motion. Now Sinn had the upper hand on the situation.

"Out of my face, damn you," the bard cried. "Or I'll nail what little brains you have to the back of your skull!"

The thief gulped, turned, and ran, disappearing quickly into the shadows of the Maze.

Sinn forgot him instantly and took in his surroundings- He was now completely disoriented and had no idea as to which way he should go to get out of the Maze and make it back to the Kettle.

With a silent prayer for inspiration and direction to whatever gods would listen, the bard fled up the street and into the night.

Mariat let out a gasp of relief as she rounded the street comer and saw the friendly, familiar lights of the Warm Kettle just ahead. It was neither wise nor safe to be walking the streets at night, even in this relatively calm section of Sanctuary. The empty streets and sidewalks she had traveled on her way from the Scholar's Guild attested to that fact.

She cursed those idiot scholars and their paper-shuffling nonsense. She would have had the children home long before dark if they had not batted her around from person to person, like a ball in some children's game. After the runaround she had received, she would have walked out on them, were it not for the fact that there were not too many educated people in Sanctuary. Her grandchildren needed tutors, and they deserved the best. She would simply have to overlook the inconvenience caused by the inept clerks.

The Kettle was only four blocks away when a man stepped out of a dark alley and blocked her path. Mariat drew back suddenly and pulled the children close around her.

"What do you want?" She fought to keep fear from showing in her voice. Being an educated woman, she knew that animals were more likely to attack when they sensed fear. And men who harassed women and children were no better than rabid animals.

The man was peculiar-looking. His head looked as though his hair had been torn out in patches, rather than balding naturally. He smiled luridly.

"It's not safe for a woman of quality to be walking the young lads and lassie alone at night with no protection," he sneered. "Perhaps you'll allow me to be your escort."

"I recommend that you step out of our way and leave us alone," Mariat said, addressing the ruffian in such a way as to put him in his place. "I will call for the watch if you do not leave us immediately."

"Oh, now, that ain't polite," Mange drawled, "nor is it particularly wise. My friends behind you might do some injury to your kiddies before those sleeping dogs on the watch got here."

Mariat now whirled and looked behind her. Sure enough, two more figures detached themselves from the shadows and moved to block her retreat. One was a large, hulking brute. The other was a slim, sinister youth. Both looked like they would just as soon slit her throat as talk to her.

"Now," continued Mange, "the boys and I will just take these beautiful children to a place of"-he paused and winked at her-"safekeeping. Later on you'll be notified as to where you can pick them up, and how much their room and board will cost you."

"Kidnapping," Mariat whispered, under her breath. "And ransom ... who is putting you up to this?" Her voice rose as anger began to take possession of her.

"Shhh. Quiet. Madame Mariat," Mange said, and smiled when he saw the shock register in her eyes as he used her name. "We wouldn't want to wake up the good people of this neighborhood, would we? My, but that could turn into nasty, bloody business, couldn't it, boys?"

Wik and Speido snorted in amusement.

"And some little children might not get to grow up," Mange concluded menacingly. "Wouldn't that be a shame, Grandma?"

Mariat swallowed, and the paralysis of fear and panic crept slowly through her body. In all her scheming, she had never planned on the lifethreatening situation which now faced her. She had been hoping to avoid the more unsavory aspects of living in Sanctuary altogether. Now she knew that was not possible, and some things never changed. Though more prosperous, Sanctuary was still a thieves' world. She hoped that this schooling would not cost her the price of her grandchildren's lives. They were the only family she had left. They were her only reason for living.

"That's better now," Mange was saying as he moved forward. "Nice and compliant, like a good old Rankan bitch."