The mercenary reached him in a dozen swinging strides, drawing a stabbing swordas he came on. If not for the fact that the other hand held a mug, Shadowspawnwould have aired iron by the time the man (or youth from his smooth, heartshapedface) spoke: 'Shadowspawn, called Hanse? I am Stepson, called Abarsis. I havebeen hoping to find you.' With a grin full of dazzling teeth, the mercenary putthe ivory-hiked sword flat in the wet-rings on the table, and sat, both handswell in evidence. clasped under his chin.

Hanse gripped his beltknife tightly. Then the panic-flash receded, and timepassed, instead of piling all its instants terri-fyingly on top of one another.Hanse knew that he was no coward, that he was plagued by flashbacks from the twotimes he had been tapped with the fearstick ofVashanka, but his chest washeaving, and the mercenary might see. He slumped back, for camouflage. Themercenary with the expensive taste in accoutrements could be no older than he.And yet, only a king's son could afford such a blade as that before him. Hereached out hesitantly to touch its silvered guard, its garnet pommel, his gazelocked in the sell-sword's soulless pale one, his hand slipping closer andcloser to the elegant sword of its own accord.

'Ah, you do like it then,' said Stepson. 'I was not sure. You will take it, Ihope. It is customary in my country, when meeting a man who has performedheroically to the benefit of one's house, to give a small token.' Hewithdrew a silver scabbard from his belt, laid it with the sword, whichHanse put down as if burned.

'What did I ever do for you?'

'Did you not rescue the Riddler from great peril?'

'Who?' The tanned face grinned ingenuously. 'A truly brave man does not boast. Iunderstand. Or is it a deeper thing? That -' He leaned forward; he smelledsweet like new-mown hay '- is truly what I need to know. Do you comprehend me?'

Hanse gave him an eagle's look, and shook his head slowly, his fingers flat onthe table, near the magnificent sword that the mercenary Stepson had offered togive him. The Riddler? He knew no one of that name. 'Are you protecting him?There is no need, not from me. Tell me, Shadowspawn, are you and Tempuslovers?'

'Mother-!' His favourite knife leapt into his palm, unbidden. He looked at it inhis own grasp in consternation, and dropped his other hand over it, and beganparing his nails. Tempus! The Riddler? Hanse's eyes caressed the covetableblade. 'I helped him out, once or twice, that's all.'

'That is good,' the youth across from him approved. 'Then we will not have tofight over him. And, too, we could work a certain bargain, service for service,that would make me happy and you, I modestly estimate, a gentleman of ease forat least six months.'

'I'm listening,' said Shadowspawn, taking a chance, commending his knife to itssheath. The short sword too, he handled, fitting it in the scabbard and drawingit out, fascinated by the alert scrutiny of Abarsis the Stepson's sixcompanions.

When he began hearing the words 'diamond rods' and 'Hall of Judgement' he waxeduneasy. But by then, he could not sec any way that he could allow himself toappear less than heroic in the pale, blue-grey eyes of Stepson. Not when theamount of money Stepson had offered hung in the balance, not when the noblyfashioned sword he had been given as if it were merely serviceable proclaimedthe flashy mercenary's ability to pay that amount. But too, if he would paythat, he would pay more. Hanse was not so enthralled by the mercenaries'mystique to hasten into one's pay without some good Sanctuary barter.Watching Stepson's six formidable companions, waiting like purebred huntingdogs curried for show, he spied a certain litheness about them, an uncannycleanliness of limb and nearness of girded hips. Close friends, these. Veryclose.

Abarsis's sonorous voice had ceased, waiting for Hanse's response. Thedisconcertingly pale eyes followed Hanse's stare, frank now, to his companions.

'Will you say yea, then, friend of the Riddler? And become my friend, also?These other friends of mine await only your willingness to embrace you as abrother.'

'I own,' Hanse muttered.

Abarsis raised one winged brow. 'So? They are members of a Sacred Band, my oldone; most prized officers; heroes, every pair.' He judged Hanse's face. 'Can itbe you do not have the custom, in the south? From your mien I must believe it.'His voice was liquid, like deep running water. 'These men, to me and to theirchosen partners, have sworn to forsake life before honour, to stand and neverretreat, to fall where they fight if need be, shoulder to shoulder. There is nomore hallowed tryst than theirs. Had I a thousand such, I would rule the earth.'

'Which one is yours?' Hanse tried not to sneer, to be conversational, unshaken,but his eyes could find no comfortable place to rest, so that at last he took upthe gift-sword and examined the hieratic writing on its blade.

'None. I left them, long ago, when my partner went up to heaven. Now I havehired them back, to serve a need. It is strictly a love of spirit, Hanse, thatis required. And only in Sacred Bands is a mercenary asked so much.'

'Still, it's not my style.'

'You sound disappointed.'

'I am. In your offer. Pay me twice that, and I will get the items you desire. Asfor your friends, I don't care if you bugger them each twice daily. Just as longas it's not part of my job and no one thinks I am joining any organizations.'A swift, appreciative smile touched Abarsis. 'Twice, then. I am at your mercy'

'I stole those diamond rods once before, for Tem-, for the Riddler. He'll justgive them back to her, after she does whatever it is she does for him. I hadher once, and she did nothing for me that any other whore would not do.'

'You what? Ah, you do not know about them, then? Their legend, their curse?'

'Legend? Curse? I knew she was a sorceress. Tell me about it! Am I in anydanger? You can forget the whole idea, about the rods. I keep shut of sorcery.'

'Hardly sorcery, no need to worry. They cannot transmit any of it. When hewas young and she was a virgin, he was a prince and a fool of ideals. 1 heardit that the god is his true father, and thus she is not his sibling, but youknow how legends are. As a princess, her sire looked for an advantageousmarriage. An archmage of a power not seen anymore made an offer, at about thetime the Riddler renounced his claim to the throne and retired to aphilosopher's cave. She went to him begging aid, some way out of an unacceptablesituation, and convinced him that should she be deflowered, the mage would notwant her, and of all men the Riddler was the only one she trusted with the task;anyone else would despoil her. She seduced him easily, for he had loved her. allhis young life and that unacceptable attraction to flesh of his flesh was partof what drove him from his primogeniture. She loved nothing but herself; somethings never change. He was wise enough to know he brought destruction uponhimself, but men are prone to ruin from women. In passion, he could not thinkclearly; when it left him he went to Vashanka's altar and threw himself upon it,consigning his fate to the god. The god took him up, and when the archmageappeared with four eyes spitting fire and four mouths breathing fearful curses,the god's aegis partly shielded him. Yet, the curse holds. He wanders eternallybringing death to whomever loves him and being spurned by whomsoever he shalllove. She must offer herself for pay to any comer, take no gift of kindnesson pain of showing all her awful years, incapable of giving love as she hasalways been. So thus, the gods, too, are barred to her, and she is trulydamned.'