As they marched down the dim hallway of a rooming house, she gestured for Richard to stand aside. Nicci wanted this room. She wanted to lie down where it was dry and go to sleep. She resolutely rapped her knuckles on a door that looked as if it might come apart if she wasn't careful.

She peered down at the register she had and then stuffed it in her pack as she waited for the door to be answered. The lodging house, like all the others they had been to, was supposed to let rooms to those new to the city.

The emperor needed workers.

In her mind, she imagined that this would be the place. She stared at the stain on the sickly green plaster. She imagined seeing the tea-colored stain, in the shape of a horse's rump with its tail flicked up, every day as she went about her life. She imagined Richard walking past the stain every day when he went to a job, and every night when he came home. Just like everyone else had to do.

Richard was watching the stairway beyond the door where Nicci again knocked. The stairs faced away. She couldn't understand why he watched all the things he watched, but she didn't discount his instincts. By the look on his face, he wasn't pleased about the shadowed stairway. Being a Sister of the Dark, she was hardly frightened by the simple things that frightened other people. She knocked again.

A voice inside told them to go away.

"We need a room," Nicci declared to the door in a tone that said she meant to have it. She knocked harder. "You're on the register. We want the room."

"It's a mistake," came the muffled voice from inside. "No room."

"Now look here," Nicci called out heatedly, "it's getting late-"

Three youths she hadn't seen sitting on the stairs swaggered around the newel post. The three were without shirts, showing off their muscles as young men were wont to do. All three had knives.

"Well, well," one of the youths said with a cocky grin as his eyes took her in with lewd intent. "What have we here? Two little drowned rats?"

"I like the fancy tail on the little blond rat," a second chortled.

Richard seized her arm and without a word shepherded her out the front door, back out into the rain. Nicci dragged her heels, protesting in a whisper the whole way. She couldn't believe that Lord Rahl himself, the Seeker of Truth, and the bringer of death would be intimidated by three men-boys, really.

As they descended the rickety front stoop, Richard lifted an eyebrow at her while tipping his head close. "You have no power, remember? We don't want this kind of trouble. I'd not like to get knifed over a room. This fight isn't worth it. Knowing when not to fight is just as important as knowing how."

Nicci wanted the room, but she finally conceded that Richard was probably right. The three sneering youths slouched at the door and watched, laughing, calling Richard names. So far, they weren't interested in going out in the rain. She had seen young men like them before. This latest crop was no different from any of the others-arrogant, aggressive, and often dangerous. At least they made good soldiers for Jagang's army.

Richard hurried her along the street. He cut through some of the narrow passageways, taking several turns at random just to be sure they wouldn't be followed.

The city of Altur'Rang seemed endless. In the overcast and rain, visibility was limited. The haphazard streets and byways were a confusing maze. It had been many years since she had been here last. With all the Order's efforts, the place still had fallen on hard times. She feared to think of what it would have been like had the Order not been here to help.

When they emerged on a wider street, they found shelter under a small overhanging roof along with a small group of others trying to stay out of the rain. Nicci hugged herself against the cold. Richard, along with the others huddled under the roof, watched the occasional wagon making its way past on the muddy street. She didn't know how Richard could keep warm in such weather. She appreciated his warmth, though, when the small crowd pressed her up against him. Richard glanced down at her, seeing her shiver, but he couldn't bring himself to put an arm around her to help keep her warns. She didn't ask.

Nicci sighed; the Old World didn't stay cold for long. In another day or two it would again be warm and muggy.

When she had been at the crumbled remains of her father's business, just before they left, Richard had looked as if he almost wanted to put his arms around her and comfort her. As much as he hated her, as much as he wanted to get away from her, he had been moved to sympathy.

Standing in the ruins, Nicci had let the memories wash through her, and had reveled in the exquisite anguish.

Richard's eyes were fixed on something. She followed his gaze and saw that a wagon not far down the street was moving with an odd wiggle. Almost as soon as she noticed it, the wheel broke with a loud crack.

With the strain imposed by the wagon slipping and being twisted in the ruts, the spokes had snapped under the heavy load. The side of the wagon bed dropped with a splash. People on the walkway were splattered with mud. They cursed the two men in the wagon. The four-horse team struggled to a halt as the uneven load broke the axle, causing the good rear wheel to snap its spokes, too. The whole rear of the wagon collapsed into the mud.

The two men climbed down to assess the damage. The rawboned driver cursed and kicked at the broken wheel lying at a lopsided angle. The other man, shorter and stoutly built, calmly checked the rest of the wagon and its load.

With a frown of curiosity, Richard nudged Nicci ahead of him as he moved down the street toward the wagon. She went reluctantly, unhappy to be out from under the roof.

"We have to," the husky man said with calm resolve. "It's only a short distance."

The other cursed again. "It's not my job, Ishaq, and you know it. I'll not do it!"

Then Ishaq threw up his hands in a helpless gesture as his headstrong partner went to the front of the wagon and urged the team on, managing to drag the wagon to the side of the road and out of the way of the other wagons that were beginning to back up down the street. Once he had the wagon to the side, he started unhitching the team.

The man at the back of the wagon turned and peered around at the people watching.

"I need some help," Ishaq called to the sparse crowd.

"Doing what?" a nearby man asked.

"I've got to get this load of iron to the warehouse." He stretched his thick neck and pointed. "Just there-in the brick building with the faded red paint on the side."

"How much will you pay?" the bystander asked.

Ishaq was getting frustrated as he glanced over his shoulder and saw his partner leading the horses away. "I'm not authorized to pay anything, not without approval, but I'm sure that if you came round tomorrow-"

The people watching laughed with knowing disgust and went on their way.

The man stood in the downpour, ankle deep in mud, alone. He sighed and turned to his wagon, pulling back the tarp to reveal iron bar stock.

Richard stepped out into the street. Nicci wanted to check some more rooms on the list before it got dark. She snatched at his sleeve, but he only gave her a scolding look. She huffed her displeasure but followed anyway as he made his way through the mud to the man struggling to pull a long bar from the wagon bed.

"Ishaq, is it?" Richard asked.

The man turned and gave Richard a nod. "That's right."

"If I help you, Ishaq," Richard asked, "will I really get paid tomorrow? The truth, now."

Ishaq, a stocky fellow with a curious red hat with a narrow brim all around, finally shook his head in resignation.

"Well," Richard said, "if I help you get this load into your warehouse, then would you allow me and my wife to sleep in there where we could get out of the rain for the night?"