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If I am to serve as an instrument of deceit, at least let it be with a clear conscience. I do not want to be considered either so affectionate or so loyal a servant as to be found fit to betray anyone.

Michel de Montaigne

Chapter I

"You know very well that you cannot be here South. You are a danger to us all in presence alone."

"Unfortunately I had some unfinished business to attend to, on Sytor's orders."

In the faint light of the early dawn, two figures stood alone at the edge of the great wood, mist encompassing parts of their forms as they spoke. Prime's light pried through the dark clouds that were so common to develop over the dark hours of the chilling nights, its rays stretching and bending, reaching like long-fingered hands toward the eerie mists hovering above the land. Every so often a cloud would shift and fill in one of the many holes where the light seeped through, casting shadows over the green earth, and causing the one called South to glance skyward.

"On Sytor's orders?" asked the other with an air of bewilderment dancing within her voice. "Has he no idea what he has put us through already? He returns in your mind, rather than physically, dear niece?"

"I quite believe it is the other way around, Mancer," retorted South with haste. "You have put him through more trials than one stallion should ever be forced to bear. He is waiting for me on the other side of the river. Leila Sa'eeda is on the move."

She heard her aunt inhale sharply, but she did not argue any further on the matter.

"W-What is it that you want to know?" the white mare asked with a nervous expression. "If it is of that golden brute's whereabouts, I cannot say. He left shortly after my brother and you."

"And he failed to say to where he was going?"

Mancer stiffened quite suddenly, and glanced around with what was perhaps an expression even more anxious than her previous one. Her fuzzy ears swiveled about to catch the slightest sound, making certain there were no eavesdroppers. "I have heard rumors…" she began, but trailed off in uncertainty.

"Yes?" South probed with a frown.

"One of the Messengers thought she had seen him—she thought he had been marching alongside Leila Sa'eeda himself," the ivory femme ejected in a near whisper. "The Guards that were with her did not support her claim, but there are a few who are doubtful of their credibility. Some think they are cowards, who do not wish to believe that Sa'eeda may have gained the advantage."

"Who was the Messenger?" South inquired with interest. She was eager to gain as much information as she could before reporting to her father.

"The Mistress Stiletto," Mancer replied in earnest. South's expression changed as she absorbed what her aunt had said. A smug grin crossed her features and she bobbed her head.

"She fears for her life. She would want to protect it, at all costs. She does not lie," the paint declared. "Where, Mancer, did she claim to have seen Sa'eeda's march?"

"I expect she would be the one to inform you of that. I had already been caught eavesdropping once before."

"Where can I find the dark lady?" Though South did not particularly like the shadowy mistress, she would dare not return to her father without a more valuable bit of information and, by the sounds of things, Stiletto was to be the source of just that.

There was a pause, during which the white mare looked rather uncertain for the second time that day, and then her quaking voice broke the tense silence. "She is dead, dear niece."

Hope drained out of the young mare like blood from a wound, and she stared at her aunt, flabbergasted. Here she had been mulling over the prospect of her father and his followers being able to make some progress for the first time in months, and now this! How were they to get around this strange turn of events? Stiletto had been strong, her wit and ability to manipulate unmatched. Sytor had gained her assistance more than once in sending her to weasel answers out of foes. That she'd possessed such crucial insight as the whereabouts of Leila Sa'eeda, and was now dead, was a most devastating blow. The tri-colored head dropped several inches to hang miserably below her withers.

Silence reigned for a short time, which in all reality did not seem very short at all, but rather seemed an eternity plus a year. Mancer stood quietly a few feet away, her ears still shifting in the hopes of detecting spies. At last the humbled South raised her chiseled face to meet her aunt's eyes, young emerald facing an older brown. The slightly accented voice of the niece moved through the still air in waves.

"Did Sa'eeda or his band see her?"

Mancer shook her head.

"I know not, my niece. I know only that the dark lady was murdered only a few short hours before your arrival here."

"Have you found any indications as to the murderer?"

"Murderess, actually," her aunt corrected with a sigh. "Taxus—she—well, she never was quite right in the head, you know. She fled with Larkin when she realized Sake had seen her commit the act."

The painted mare pivoted on her hinds, moving off to pace back and forth in frustrated thought. "I don't see how anyone could have gotten near enough to the dark lady so as to actually be able to kill her," she said aloud, her ears flattened against her head. "The only beings she'd let in her general vicinity were Sake and her Guards."

"I have wondered that myself, South."

"Where were the Guards at the time she was murdered?"

"Why—They were elsewhere, I presume. She'd never felt the need to have them near at night, because Sake was always so keen to keep an eye on things."

"Who are the Guards?"

"Sullivan and Atreyu," Mancer told her quickly.

"Is not Atreyu a believer in Sa'eeda's ways? What was she thinking, allowing them so near?"

"As far as Stiletto was concerned, both Sullivan and Atreyu were sufficient Guards, because they understood her enemies' methods. What better protection could she be offered?" The ivory mare pawed the ground with one hoof.

"There are plenty of capable Guards that are not converts." The paint paused, thinking. "Where are the Guards now?"

"I-I cannot say…"

"Why not? You know this is important, Mancer! This makes all the difference in the world! If Sullivan and Atreyu were in on Stiletto's murder, that could mean they are not the only traitors in your midst! So tell me, dear aunt, where are they?"

"I…I can't—I have been sworn to—"

"Secrecy, that's right." Another voice had entered the vicinity, cold, dark, and foreboding.

Description
If I am to serve as an instrument of deceit, at least let it be with a clear conscience. I do not want to be considered either so affectionate or so loyal a servant as to be found fit to betray anyone.

Michel de Montaigne

Chapter I

"You know very well that you cannot be here South. You are a danger to us all in presence alone."

"Unfortunately I had some unfinished business to attend to, on Sytor's orders."

In the faint light of the early dawn, two figures stood alone at the edge of the great wood, mist encompassing parts of their forms as they spoke. Prime's light pried through the dark clouds that were so common to develop over the dark hours of the chilling nights, its rays stretching and bending, reaching like long-fingered hands toward the eerie mists hovering above the land. Every so often a cloud would shift and fill in one of the many holes where the light seeped through, casting shadows over the green earth, and causing the one called South to glance skyward.

"On Sytor's orders?" asked the other with an air of bewilderment dancing within her voice. "Has he no idea what he has put us through already? He returns in your mind, rather than physically, dear niece?"

"I quite believe it is the other way around, Mancer," retorted South with haste. "You have put him through more trials than one stallion should ever be forced to bear. He is waiting for me on the other side of the river. Leila Sa'eeda is on the move."

She heard her aunt inhale sharply, but she did not argue any further on the matter.

"W-What is it that you want to know?" the white mare asked with a nervous expression. "If it is of that golden brute's whereabouts, I cannot say. He left shortly after my brother and you."

"And he failed to say to where he was going?"

Mancer stiffened quite suddenly, and glanced around with what was perhaps an expression even more anxious than her previous one. Her fuzzy ears swiveled about to catch the slightest sound, making certain there were no eavesdroppers. "I have heard rumors…" she began, but trailed off in uncertainty.

"Yes?" South probed with a frown.

"One of the Messengers thought she had seen him—she thought he had been marching alongside Leila Sa'eeda himself," the ivory femme ejected in a near whisper. "The Guards that were with her did not support her claim, but there are a few who are doubtful of their credibility. Some think they are cowards, who do not wish to believe that Sa'eeda may have gained the advantage."

"Who was the Messenger?" South inquired with interest. She was eager to gain as much information as she could before reporting to her father.

"The Mistress Stiletto," Mancer replied in earnest. South's expression changed as she absorbed what her aunt had said. A smug grin crossed her features and she bobbed her head.

"She fears for her life. She would want to protect it, at all costs. She does not lie," the paint declared. "Where, Mancer, did she claim to have seen Sa'eeda's march?"

"I expect she would be the one to inform you of that. I had already been caught eavesdropping once before."

"Where can I find the dark lady?" Though South did not particularly like the shadowy mistress, she would dare not return to her father without a more valuable bit of information and, by the sounds of things, Stiletto was to be the source of just that.

There was a pause, during which the white mare looked rather uncertain for the second time that day, and then her quaking voice broke the tense silence. "She is dead, dear niece."

Hope drained out of the young mare like blood from a wound, and she stared at her aunt, flabbergasted. Here she had been mulling over the prospect of her father and his followers being able to make some progress for the first time in months, and now this! How were they to get around this strange turn of events? Stiletto had been strong, her wit and ability to manipulate unmatched. Sytor had gained her assistance more than once in sending her to weasel answers out of foes. That she'd possessed such crucial insight as the whereabouts of Leila Sa'eeda, and was now dead, was a most devastating blow. The tri-colored head dropped several inches to hang miserably below her withers.

Silence reigned for a short time, which in all reality did not seem very short at all, but rather seemed an eternity plus a year. Mancer stood quietly a few feet away, her ears still shifting in the hopes of detecting spies. At last the humbled South raised her chiseled face to meet her aunt's eyes, young emerald facing an older brown. The slightly accented voice of the niece moved through the still air in waves.

"Did Sa'eeda or his band see her?"

Mancer shook her head.

"I know not, my niece. I know only that the dark lady was murdered only a few short hours before your arrival here."

"Have you found any indications as to the murderer?"

"Murderess, actually," her aunt corrected with a sigh. "Taxus—she—well, she never was quite right in the head, you know. She fled with Larkin when she realized Sake had seen her commit the act."

The painted mare pivoted on her hinds, moving off to pace back and forth in frustrated thought. "I don't see how anyone could have gotten near enough to the dark lady so as to actually be able to kill her," she said aloud, her ears flattened against her head. "The only beings she'd let in her general vicinity were Sake and her Guards."

"I have wondered that myself, South."

"Where were the Guards at the time she was murdered?"

"Why—They were elsewhere, I presume. She'd never felt the need to have them near at night, because Sake was always so keen to keep an eye on things."

"Who are the Guards?"

"Sullivan and Atreyu," Mancer told her quickly.

"Is not Atreyu a believer in Sa'eeda's ways? What was she thinking, allowing them so near?"

"As far as Stiletto was concerned, both Sullivan and Atreyu were sufficient Guards, because they understood her enemies' methods. What better protection could she be offered?" The ivory mare pawed the ground with one hoof.

"There are plenty of capable Guards that are not converts." The paint paused, thinking. "Where are the Guards now?"

"I-I cannot say…"

"Why not? You know this is important, Mancer! This makes all the difference in the world! If Sullivan and Atreyu were in on Stiletto's murder, that could mean they are not the only traitors in your midst! So tell me, dear aunt, where are they?"

"I…I can't—I have been sworn to—"

"Secrecy, that's right." Another voice had entered the vicinity, cold, dark, and foreboding.