"As you like."

"Second-"

"Is there more?"

Travec paid no heed. "Second, notify me when you sense the green fume of Xabiste. We will then try to locate the source and destroy the node."

"That is sensible enough."

"Third, do not reveal yourselves to the demons of Xabiste, or Dadgath, or elsewhere. They might flee before we are able to kill them."

"Just as you wish."

"Fourth, be on the lookout for the witch Desmei, in any of her phases. She might even use another name, but do not be confused! Report any suspicious circumstance at once."

"We will do our best"

Travec once more set his horse into motion, and proceeded along the road, while the effrits discussed the terms of Travec's instructions, which they seemed to find perplexing, so that Travec wondered if they had grasped the full sense of his requirements.

Travec, approaching the inn, discovered it to be a rather ramshackle structure, built of rough timber and roofed with thatch so old that grass grew from the straw. At one side was a shed where the landlord brewed his ale; at the back the inn joined into the barn. Beyond, three small children worked in an acreage planted to oats and pot-herbs. Travec turned into the yard, dismounted and tied his horse to a rail. Nearby two men sat on a bench: Izmael the Hun and Kegan the Celt, both of whom had watched Travec's arrival with keen interest.

Travec spoke to Izmael in his own language: "Well then, creature born of outrage: what do you here, so far from home?"

"Hoy, dog-eater! I attend to my own affairs."

"They may be mine as well, so treat me kindly, even though I have lopped the heads from a hundred of your kinsmen."

"What is done is done; after all, I raped your mother and all your sisters."

"And no doubt your own mother as well, on horseback." Travec nodded toward the other man on the bench. "Who is this gaunt shadow of a dead scorpion?"

"He calls himself Kegan; he is a Celt from Godelia. He would as soon cut your throat as spit."

Travec nodded and reverted to the language of the country. "I have been sent to meet a certain Cory of Falonges. Where is he to be found?"

"He has not yet arrived. We thought you might be Cory. What do you know of the venture?"

"I was assured of profit and danger, no more." Travec went into the inn, and found the landlord, who agreed to provide lodging, in the form of a straw pallet in the loft over the barn, which Travec accepted without enthusiasm. The landlord sent a boy to take care of the dun horse; Travec brought his bundle of belongings into the inn, and commanded a pint of ale from the landlord, which he took to a table by the wall.

Nearby sat another two men: Este the Roman, slender with delicate features and hazel eyes, carved a bit of wood into the likeness of a harpy. Galgus the Black from Dahaut amused himself rolling dice across the table, from one hand to the other. He showed the startling white skin and lusterless black hair of an arsenic-eater; his face was sad and saturnine. The two were presently joined by Izmael and Kegan the Celt. Izmael muttered a few words, and all turned to look toward Travec, who ignored the attention.

Kegan began to play at dice with Galgus, wagering small coins, and presently the whole group became involved in the game. Travec watched with somber attention, wondering as to the outcome of the situation. The group, lacking a leader, was unstable, with each man jealous of his reputation. After a few minutes Izmael the Hun called over to Travec. "Come! Why do you not join the sport? Dacians are notorious for their insensate gambling!"

"True, to my regret," said Travec. "But I did not wish to join the game without an invitation."

"You may consider yourself invited. Gentlemen, this is Travec the Dacian, who is here on business similar to our own. Travec, you see here Este the Sweet, who claims to be the last true Roman. His weapon is a bow so small and fragile that it seems a toy, while his arrows are little more than slivers; still, he can sling them away with great speed and put out a man's eye at fifty yards without rising from his chair. Next is Galgus, who is Daut and clever with knives. Yonder sits Kegan from Godelia; he favors a set of curious weapons, among others, the steel whip. I myself am a poor lost dove; I survive the ferocities of life only through the pity and forbearance of my fellows."

"You are a notable group," said Travec. "I am privileged to be associated with you. Does anyone know the details of our mission?"

Galgus said: "I can guess, since Casmir is at the bottom of it. But enough talk; let us roll the dice. Travec, do you under stand the game?"

"Not altogether, but I will learn quickly enough."

"Then what about money?"

"No problem there! I carry ten gold pieces paid over to me by King Casmir."

"That should suffice! Very well; I will roll the dice. Everyone must wager, then I either call out my number of ‘odd' or ‘even', and so goes the game."

Travec played for a period, and won modestly. Then Galgus began to use false dice, which he substituted with great cleverness when it came his time to throw, and Travec lost his ten gold pieces. "I will play no more," said Travec. "Else I might find myself without a horse."

The sun had long since dropped behind the mountains. As the sky began to grow dark the landlord served a supper of lentils and bread. Even as the five men finished their meal, a newcomer arrived at the inn, riding a fine black horse. He dismounted, tied his horse to the rail and strode into the inn: a dark-haired man of middle stature, long and sinewy of arm and leg, with a hard harsh face. He spoke to the landlord: "Take care of my horse and provide me the best your house can offer, since I have ridden far this day." He turned and surveyed the five men, then approached their table. "I am Cory of Falonges; I am here on orders from an eminent person of whom you know. It is my business to command you on a venture. I expected four men; I find five."

"I am Travec the Dacian. King Casmir sent me to join your troop, along with a bag of ten gold pieces which you were to pay out to the other four men. However, this afternoon I gamed at dice. To my regret I lost all ten gold pieces, so that the men must go without their pay."

"What!" cried Izmael in consternation. "You gambled with my money?"

Cory of Falonges looked at Travec wonderingly. "How do you explain your behaviour?"

Travec shrugged. "I was pressed to join the game and Casmir's money was the first to hand. After all, I am a Dacian and accept all challenges."

Este looked accusingly at Galgus. "The money you have won is rightfully mine!"

"Not necessarily!" cried Galgus. "Your remark is based on a hypothesis. Also, let me ask this: if Travec had won, would you now reimburse me my losses?"

Cory spoke decisively: "Galgus in this case is not at fault; Travec is to blame."

Travec, seeing how the tide was running, said: "You are all making much of nothing. I have five gold pieces of my own, which I will put up for wager."

Galgus asked: "You wish to gamble further?"

"Why not? I am a Dacian! But we will play a new game!" Travec put the earthenware bean-pot on the floor and indicated a crack running across the floor some fifteen feet from the pot. "Each man in turn will stand behind the crack and toss a gold piece toward the pot. The man whose coin goes into the pot collects all the coins which have gone astray."

"And if two or more men succeed?" asked Este.

"They share the booty. Come then, who will play? Galgus, you are adept and a good judge of distances; you shall go first."

Somewhat dubiously Galgus put his toe to the crack and tossed a coin; it struck the side of the pot and rattled away.

"Too bad," said Travec. "You will not win this round. Who will go next? Este?"