'In a swamp, she lives. But I can tell you how to get in to her, for only-"

"Do you think I'm a stupid oaf!" Oba twisted the wrist. "I've already heard that people go to see this sorceress, that she receives visitors in her swamp, so something more than the way in to her place had better be included in the fair price I've given you."

"Yes!" The hawker gulped in pain. "Of course it is." Oba eased up. Still wincing, the man was quick to go on. "I was going to say that I will tell you the secret way to get to her through her swamp for the generous price you've already paid. Not just the regular way in, which folks know, but the secret way in, as well. Few, if any, know of it. All included in the price. I'd not hold anything back from a fair man like you, sir."

Oba glared. "Secret way in? If there is a regular way, a way people use to see Althea, why would I care about this other way?"

"People go in to see the sorceress Althea for a telling. She's a powerful one, this sorceress." He leaned closer. "But you must be invited before you can go see her for a telling. None dare to go without being invited. People all go in the same way, so as she can see them coming-after she's invited them in and withdrawn her bloodthirsty beasts that guard the path." A sly smile spread on the man's twisty face. "It seems to me that if you were invited in, you wouldn't need to ask people how to get there. Have you been invited, sir?"

Oba gently pushed the reeking hawker back. "So, there is another way in?"

"There is. A back way in. A way to sneak up on her, if you're of a mind, while her beasts guard the front door, as it were. A smart man might not choose to approach a powerful sorceress on her terms."

Oba glanced to the sides, checking that people weren't listening. "I don't need to go in a secret back way. I'm not afraid of the sorceress. But as long as I've already paid for it all, I'll hear it all told. Both ways in, and everything else about her, too."

The man shrugged. "If you're of a mind, you can simply ride due west, as the folks who was invited to Althea's place do. You travel west across the plains until you come to the largest snowcapped mountain. Beyond the mountain, you turn north and follow along the base of the cliffs. The land goes lower until it finally enters the swamp. Just follow the well-kept path on in through the swamp. Stay on that path-don't wander off. It leads to the home of the sorceress Althea."

"But the swamp would be frozen, this time of year."

"No, sir. This is the wicked place of a sorceress and her menacing magic. Althea's swamp does not bow to winter."

Oba twisted the man's wrist until he cried out. "Do you think me a fool? No place is a swamp in winter."

"Ask anyone!" the man squealed. He swept his other arm around. "Ask anyone and they'll tell you Althea's place doesn't bow to the Creator's winter, but is hot and boggy all year round."

Oba let up on the man's wrist. "You said there was a back way in. Where is it?"

For the first time, the man hesitated. He licked his weather-cracked lips. "It's difficult to find. There are few landmarks, and they're hard to spot. I could tell you how to find the place, but you might miss it, and then you'll think I lied to you when it's only that it's tricky to find by directions alone if you're not familiar with the land in these parts."

"I'm already thinking about having my coin back."

"I'm only looking to your safety, sir." He flashed a quick, apologetic smile. "I don't like giving a man like you only part of what he needs, for fear I might live to regret it. I believe in giving the full measure of my word.»

"Go on."

The hawker cleared his wet throat and then spat to the side. He wiped his mouth with the back of his filthy sleeve. "Well, sir, the best way to find it is if I take you there."

Oba checked an older couple passing nearby, then pulled the man by his wrist. "Fine. Let's go."

The hawker dug in his heels. "Now hold on there. I agreed to tell you, and I can do that. Like I said, though, it's hard to find. But I can't be expected to give up my business to go off as a guide. It's a number of days I'd be away from an income."

Scowling, Oba leaned down. "And how much is it you want to guide me there?"

The man took a heavy breath as he considered, muttering to himself as if toiling at tallying up numbers in his head.

"Well, sir," he said at last, lifting a finger on his free hand that stuck up through a short stub of a knit glove. "I guess I could be gone for a few days if I were to be paid a gold mark."

Oba laughed. "I'm not giving you a mark-gold nor even silver-for the work of guiding me for a few days. I'd be willing to pay you another silver penny, but that's all. Take it or give me back my first silver penny and be gone."

The hawker shook his head as he mumbled to himself. Finally, he squinted up at Oba with a look of resignation.

"My charms aren't selling well, of late. To tell the truth, I could use the money. You have the best of me again, sir. I'll guide you, then, for a silver penny."

Oba released the man's wrist. "Let's go."

"It's across the Azrith Plains. We'll need horses."

"Now, you want me to buy you a horse? Are you out of your mind?"

"Well, walking is no good. But I know folks, here, who will give you a good deal on a couple of horses. If we treat the animals right, I'm sure they'd agree to buy them back once we return-less a small fee for their use."

Oba thought it over. He wanted to go up into the palace to have a look around, but he thought it best if he visited Lathea's sister, first. There were things to learn.

"That sounds fair." Oba gave the hunched hawker a nod. "Let's go get some horses and be off, then."

They moved out of the quieter side route into a main road thick with milling throngs. There were a number of attractive women about. Some of them looked Oba's way, the invitation and longing clear in their eyes. They met his gaze, hungry for him. Oba gave them smiles, a token suggesting the possibility of more, later. He could see that even that much thrilled them.

It occurred to him, though, that these women roaming the market were probably lowly peasants. Up in the palace were likely to be the kind of women Oba wanted to meet: women of station. He deserved no less. After all, he was a Rahl, practically a prince, or something comparable. Maybe even something more than that.

"What's you name, anyway?" Oba asked. "Seeing as we'll be traveling together.»

"Clovis."

Oba didn't offer his name. He liked being called " sir. " It was, after all, only fitting.

"With all the people," Oba said as his gaze swept the crowds, "how is it that your charms aren't selling? Why is it that you're having hard times?"

The man sighed in apparent misery. "It's a sad tale, but it's not your burden, sir."

"Simple enough question, I think."

"I suppose it is." He shielded his eyes from the sunlight with a hand, partly covered in a knitted fingerless glove, as he peered up at Oba. "Well, sir, a time ago, back in the thick of winter, I met a beautiful young woman."

Oba looked over at the hunched, wrinkled, disheveled man shuffling along beside him. "Met her?"

"Well, sir, truth be told, I was offering her a charm. . Clovis's brow twisted curiously-as if he'd suddenly come across something quite unexpected. "It was her eyes that seized you. Big blue eyes. Blue like you rarely see. ." Clovis ogled up at Oba. "The thing is, sir, her eyes looked very much like yours."

It was Oba's turn to frown. "Like mine?"

Clovis nodded earnestly. "They did, sir. She had eyes like yours. Imagine that. Something about her-about you as well-that looks… somehow, familiar. Can't say as I know what it is, though."

"What does this have to do with your hard times? Did you give her all your money and fail to get between her legs?"

Clovis seemed shocked by the very notion. "No sir, nothing like that. I tried to sell her a charm-so she would have good fortune. Instead, she stole all my money."

Oba grunted skeptically. "I'd bet she was batting her eyelashes and smiling at you while she had her arm in your pocket to her elbow, and you were too eager to suspect what she was really doing."

"Nothing like that, sir. Nothing like that at all." His voice turned bitter. "She set a man upon me and he took it all for her. He did it, but it was at her word-I'm sure of it. The two of them stole all my money. Robbed me of everything I had earned all year."

Something tickled Oba's memory. He scanned his mental lists of odd and unrelated things. Some of those things began to come together.

"What did this woman with the blue eyes look like?"

"Oh. she was beautiful, sir, with thick ringlets of red hair." Even if this woman had robbed the man of his savings, the distant look in his eye told Oba that he was still clearly taken by her. "Her face was like a vision of a good spirit, it was, and her figure was enough to take your breath away. But I should have known, by that bewitchingly evil red hair, that there was something more devious to her than her beauty."

Oba halted and seized the man by the arm. "Was her name Jennsen?"

Clovis offered only a regretful shrug. " Soff y, sir. She never gave me her name. But I don't imagine there are many women that look like her. Not with those blue eyes, her exquisite looks, and those ringlets of red hair.»

Oba didn't think so, either. The description fit Jennsen perfectly.

Well, wasn't that just something.

Clovis pointed. "There, sir. Down there is the man who can sell us horses.