The bund area of Kintai’s harbour was crowded. Merchants from all quarters of the Great Domain had travelled to the capital for the last Autumn market before the first snows cut off the caravan routes to and from the escarpment. Running for a mile along the bund, the market fulfilled all the trading desires of the city’s residents. Representatives of every race of the Empire could be found within the market’s square, trading in commodities ranging from spices and silks from the Iron Plain, to slaves from the Tuireann Fells and beyond.

The chill Autumn air mingled the scents of spices, perfume oils, and open air stalls with those of leather armour, and the sweat of labouring craftsmen. In the distance, further up the steeply winding roads and lanes of Kintai, towards the black stone fortress, the rhythmical pounding of metals in the Smithies, and the shrill neighing of horses for auction in the Market could be heard. The bells of the Temple of Diarmuid added to the cacophony. The loud cries of the stevedores rang out as they unloaded the great river barges, preparing them for the return journey along the River Mael back to the Iron Plain.

Taalen a’Dare watched with interest the movement within the market. She spied the threesome that she had followed earlier that morning emerging from a Steppes armoury, and studied each in turn. The first was considerably older than the other two, and from his scarred face, and the huge menacing halberd that he carried with such ease, she instantly knew him as Geis, the great warrior of the House of Sanservy. She remembered the name her people had given him in their legends; Fer Doirich - the death bringer. She shivered as she watched him scan the crowd. His exploits, and those of Keirnan Sanservy, were told around many a Fell and Vale hearth sides, and oaths of vengeance sworn with them.

The second was a native of the city, and his dress identified him as being from the Overlord’s court. His face carried an expression of supreme confidence and arrogance. At his side hung a great sword, its blade as broad as both of Taalen’s forearms. From the description she had heard so often this could only be the Overlord’s favoured son, Llowan. His money pouch hung so invitingly from his belt, attached by only a single leather thong. At that moment she decided that he would be her target.

So worthy a challenge I have not come across since Fafne and his bargain. Such a purse would indeed keep me in good comfort well past the Winter. Claim it and I’ll say goodbye to the rat hole. She thought.

With a smile of satisfaction she assessed the last member of the trio. He was the same height as Llowan, and clearly a Plainsman. Across his broad shoulders was an ebony bow that would have taken several strong men to bend, let alone shoot. A quiver of red fletched arrows hung at his side, along with a gently curving Plainsword. Taalen let her eyes come to rest on a diamond shaped Vale hunting knife that hung in its sheath behind his sword. She had not seen one outside the Vale, and least of all expected to find one on the belt of a Plainsman living within the city. She knew the design and effectiveness of the knife by heart, as she too carried one. Its diamond-shaped blade was designed to kill quickly without damaging or tainting valuable meat.

"A Plainsman with a Valer’s blade." She mused.

She took a deep breath, already feeling the familiar rush of adrenalin as she removed a slender bladed knife from the top of her right boot. At that instant, her mind issued an urgent warning. She straightened and turned to briefly survey the crowds of people around her. Suddenly, her eyes rested on a face that she thought she would never see again: the assassin Naas, a Plainsman of Valer extraction. He smiled a chilling smile of recognition as he thumbed the blade of a stiletto in an inviting manner, and steadily walked towards her. He had all the patience in the world; he knew he would soon receive the payment and position promised to him by Fafne of Tuireann.

"Take him!" Taalen breathed. "I thought I’d rid myself of him in Curlieu. He’ll not attempt anything with one like Fer Doirich so near." She assured herself, looking first at the pouch that hung so tantalisingly close from Llowan’s belt, and then back to Naas.

With a breath to centre herself she moved forward towards the trio. Once close enough she feigned a fall into Llowan’s arms.

"My Lord ... I am so sorry ..." Taalen stammered in her best feminine voice.

"Stupid woman!" A male voice above her cursed. A voice she knew to be Naas’.

Before she could do little more than secrete the purse and the blade inside her blouse, the side of her face recoiled from a vicious blow that could only have come from an experienced hand such as Naas’.

"My Lords, I apologise for this woman’s clumsiness. She is not worth the price the Slaver asked of her!" Naas explained coolly, his words heavily accented. He struck Taalen again, and she collapsed, semi conscious, into his arms.

"Think nothing of it, I am unhurt." Llowan responded, brushing down the front of his shirt. "But tell me friend, how much did you pay for the Valer wench?" He inquired of the man.

"850 gold taels." Naas responded. "But her insolence in trying to evade me makes me wonder if she was indeed worth such a high price." He turned Taalen’s face before Llowan, and drew aside her cloak for his inspection.

"It is true that Valer women are sometimes not worth the trouble they may bring into a man’s household." Geis said, as he lent comfortably on the staff of his halberd and appraised Taalen. "But even if her temperament needs attention, it appears that the rest of her does not."

Taalen stirred in Naas’ arms; only to find the blade of a stiletto pressed suggestively into the small of her back.

"Quite right my Lord Geis, I may indeed be fortunate in that respect." Naas continued as he sensed Taalen’s recovery. "However, both you and I know there are ways to alter her character, other than by use of violence ..." He smiled knowingly at Geis and Llowan.

Ignoring the blade at her back, Taalen turned to face Naas and stared just as coldly into his cruel eyes as he smiled incisively at her.

"Bastard!" She breathed in Valish, and abruptly broke from his grasp. Then with thievish agility, she leapt over the counter of a nearby stall, and fled down a narrow lane. Momentarily stunned by her decidedly unfeminine behaviour, Llowan and the Plainsman Liam, sprinted off down the laneway.

Geis put his hand on Naas’ shoulder. "Let them go. They’ll retrieve your acquisition." He said, and guided him towards a tavern at a leisurely pace. "They have not found any sport this day."

Naas turned to regard Geis, smiled to himself and accepted the invitation of having his job done for him.

Taalen’s mind was working wildly as she had not included this laneway in her escape plan, and to her horror it ended at the base of a sheer cliff. Taking her chances she dived into a small, dark alley. Seconds later Llowan and Liam pulled up level with the alleyway. They signalled to each other in some silent language and split up, Llowan going in one direction, leaving Liam to search the alley. Taalen hid herself on a partially shadowed ledge, drew her hunting knife and waited. As Liam passed beneath her perch, she dropped silently onto him, knocking him to the ground. They struggled for some seconds on the cobbled stone of the alley before Liam abruptly gained the upper hand, enabling him to wrestle her to the ground. He pinned her beneath him with his weight, and for a split second the Plainsman’s lapis blue eyes looked into the lavender ones of the Valewoman. With his concentration momentarily broken, Taalen regained her position and held her hunting knife to his throat.

"Your silence, my lord, if you value your life." She whispered harshly, as she exposed more of his throat to the blade’s teeth.

Instinctively Liam ceased all movement, for although he could feel that she was significantly smaller than he, he knew what damage a Vale knife could inflict. He held still, and breathed in the warm scent of the woman who held him captive.

"Liam!" It was Llowan at the entrance of the alleyway, "Have you found the wench?"

"Tell him you think I have gone another way, and that you are following." Taalen breathed into his ear, while drawing the blade tighter into his throat.

"She’s gone into Bazeer’s brothel. I’ll follow her through from this side. You go back to the bund and tell Geis. I’ll meet you out on the harbour side." Liam called back.

"An appropriate place for her. The hounds would have appreciated this chase!" Llowan called back in an amused tone as he ran back down the laneway.

Taalen listened intently to the fading footsteps before turning her attention back to Liam.

"You’ll have to go back to him, you are his property now." Liam said, ignoring the blade, and willing all his muscles to relax.

Abruptly she released her hold, and spun around to face him, the knife still pointed at his throat.

"I am not his! He has not bought me!" She hissed at him. "He is no more than a Valeish assassin whose blades have my name upon them."

They regarded each other for some seconds. His face was alert and intent and darkly handsome.

"How many masters have you escaped to warrant a Finder bring you home?" Liam asked; his eyes captured by hers. "If you were mine, I too would send a Finder after you." He added in Valeish.

"You speak my tongue." Taalen said, her eyes opening wider. "Go, but tell them not of where I am, Liam d’Mere, the Plainsman." She spoke softly, as she sheathed her knife.

Before she could turn and flee, he grabbed her wrist and turned her back to face him.

"How do you know my name?... And what of yours ... where do I find you." He demanded.

"Every Valer knows of Llowan and Liam." Taalen said softly. "There are tales of you as there are stories of Fer Doirich." She removed her wrist from his grasp and silently vanished into the darkness of the alley.

"Your name!" Liam called after her.

"Taalen." Came back on the breeze, and all at once the alleyway was empty.