As Tazi and the two others exited the square, she turned once to see the auctioneer in a heated argument with the treasurer. When the treasurer pointed to what must have been a name in the record book, Tazi saw the auctioneer grow quiet, and all the color drained from his face.

Just what am I getting dragged into? Tazi wondered.

A few hours later, Tazi stood once again and felt as though she was still being scrutinized. When her entourage had arrived at a rather luxurious inn, the bodyguard led Tazi and the dwarf to a simple, clean room. He released Tazi's wrists and made a point of checking the room's door. Tazi noticed the chamber had no windows, and she was certain that was no accident. Aside from a bed, table and chairs, the only other items in the chamber were a screen and a steaming tub of water.

"Please make certain that you clean yourself. I will re-enter the room with my associate in fifteen minutes to collect you," he told Tazi pointedly.

"I see you were expecting me," she told Heraclos with a nod to the warm water.

"Fifteen minutes," was all he replied.

Nearly an hour later, a much-cleaner Tazi was still standing, and she wondered who was watching her, or if this was simply her new owner's way of reinforcing the fact that everything was on his timetable now. A few feet on either side of her stood a bodyguard. Tazi had briefly "met" Milos, the older servant, when she had tested the door to her room. He had peered menacingly at her from the cramped hallway, and she had slammed the door in his face. Now he and Hera-clos stood passively and bided their time. The only reaction Tazi evoked in them was when she tried to move. Either one or both would draw their scimitars and motion warningly to her with them. Though they rarely spoke, they communicated their message quite clearly. Tazi contented herself to exploring the room with her keen eyes alone.

While her room had been pleasant, if austere, this room was sumptuous and extravagant. Tazi noticed the sheen of silk sheets on the bed, the embroidered cushions on the settee, and the large, carved desk. All were quality items. In front of the wardrobe were several trunks, most likely full of clothes. Her host spared no expense for his needs. Even the servants were well dressed and sporte^ weapons of fine craftsmanship. A lesser blade would nave broken under the assault she gave the night at the tavern. Coin did not appear to be an object. Tazi's mind started to turn.

With all these belongings, my host doesn't like to travel lightly and appreciates his comforts. Probably a touch vain, judging by the obvious opulence.

Scattered on the desk were a few letters and missives. Tazi suspected that her host was fairly well-educated. Not all of the wealthy class or the nobility could read, but Tazi suspected this person could. Desks themselves were not standard furniture in many rooms, because so few folk could use them. Her host would have requested it or was enough of a regular that the innkeeper knew to have it ready. Another piece in her puzzle as Tazi tried to read her owner and discover what he wanted from her. And all the while she was inventorying the room, Tazi was also searching for an avenue of escape. The room seemed ordinary enough, and that made Tazi suspicious immediately.

Too easy, she thought. There has to be more than what meets the eye here. With a soft thud, the door shut behind Tazi. It startled her because she hadn't heard it open. As she turned, Tazi saw both bodyguards bow deeply. She refused to do the same, and the men didn't force her to comply. She got a good look at her owner.

Much like the auctioneer did to her this morning, Tazi gave Naglatha a brief, cursory glance and attempted to sum her up. The woman appeared to be close to her in age, though a touch older. There were no wrinkles on her smooth face to belie her years; it was her black eyes that betrayed her. They seemed older to Tazi, perhaps older than someone twice her own age, with a dark wisdom in them. Tazi also noted the woman was about her height and build, though it was a little difficult to tell with the somewhat concealing clothes she wore. The woman wore a sleeveless,belted tunic that hung to mid-calf. It was split on both sides to allow easy movement. Under that, she sported a pair of lightweight trousers and delicate sandals. She had several rings on her thin hands, and she even had a ring on one of her toes.

But the most striking feature the woman possessed, with the exception of her obsidian eyes, was her rich hair. In a land where Tazi had seen most everyone crop their tresses or completely remove them, the woman standing before her had a thick, black mane. She wore it loose, with a simple band over the center of her head that kept some of the locks out of her eyes. She looked confident, very sure of herself. As Tazi studied her, she was also struck by a sense of familiarity.

I've seen this woman before, she thought and wracked her memories trying to place her. When Tazi finally looked back at her, she could see the other woman smiling at her when Tazi would have expected her to have been appalled and offended at the brazenness of her new slave. She walked past Tazi over to the small table nearby and further surprised her new possession.

"Please," she said in a low, pleasant voice, "have a seat." And she pulled a chair out for Tazi. Bemused, Tazi moved over ana sat down. The woman picked up a decanter and gracefully filled two goblets with wine. She offered one to Tazi.

"I'm sure you're very parched. Have some. Not the best year, but it was the finest this establishment had to offer."

Dumbfounded, Tazi accepted the glass but hesitated to drink. Her owner smiled again at her and raised her goblet in a quick toast before drinking a few sips. Now fairly certain the wine had not been tampered with, Tazi followed suit. The woman nodded to Tazi as if acknowledging the importance of the little ritual. She set her glass back down and drew a chair for herself. Once she was seated, she placed her delicate arms on the table and loosely laced her fingers together.

"Now that you've had an opportunity to refresh yourself," she began, noting Tazi's clean appearance, "let's waste no more time."

"All right," Tazi replied.

"You can't possible imagine my surprise when I saw you in that tavern two nights ago," she explained.

"No, I can't," Tazi answered honestly. She was more puzzled now because she knew this woman and couldn't place her.

"I mean," she offered, "Thay is so very far from Selgaunt. You've traveled a great distance. Doesn't seem like you, really."

"And what would seem like me?" Tazi said, trying to bait her, incredulous that the woman thought she knew her at all.

Naglatha smiled and stretched her arm to stroke Tazi's shoulder-length hair. Tazi flinched slightly at her cold touch, but held her place. She glanced over to where the bodyguards stood. They were staring at the wall as though they were fixtures. But Tazi believed they would strike without hesitation if they thought their mistress was in jeopardy or if Tazi made any sudden moves. So she bore the woman's distasteful touch without saying a word.

"Shorter tresses for one," she astounded Tazi with her knowledge of her former look. "Perhaps a style a bit more boyish and more suited to your favorite activities?"

"Perhaps," a startled Tazi offered.

"I've been following you for years, actually," Na-glatha admitted. "And I have been most impressed with what I saw. I mean, for someone of your relatively few years."

"What impressed you the most?" Tazi asked, convinced the woman and she must have attended one of her mother's many, opulent soirees. "Was it my charming wit or my keen sense of fashion that meant the most to you? " She saw the woman was not troubled by her bantering manner.