Rustio shrugged, "I use this power when tending gardens.  Sometimes a stone or a quantity of soil must be moved.  If given a few moments... I could move hundreds of pounds of material.  Perhaps thousands, if I was given the time." 

Akris could not stop the widening of his eyes. If this man was speaking the truth, then the people of Brydd were fools to ignore and worse, persecute those with gifts beyond the pale. He possessed a gift, taught to him by men who had safeguarded the ability for millenia, teaching it only to those who had earned the right and would someday safeguard and pass along the skill to those who had also earned it.

Akris could not imagine a world where people like himself were hunted...or, rather...he could not imagine what life would be like for those who chose to do the hunting. He did know that it would short and painful.  

Zaiden blinked, before bending to replace the block in the floor.  It pressed mostly into position, hardly giving a sign that it had been removed.

"This man could disassemble castle walls.  Or cause the ground to swallow infantry or mounted horse.  No wonder the Faithful of Ceros fear him and his ilk."

 Zaiden looked to his sister.

"He is not too old to breed.  He could be assigned a harem.  We could grow an army of Fire and Earth."

Akris reared back at Zaiden's words. His demeanor not unlike a cobra before the hood opened.

"How...dare you..." Akris almost hissed the words. "You would be as bad as those who he is fleeing from?" Akris knew he was treading on a line with his behavior, but if they valued his opinion when it was useful, then they would also accept it when it was inconvenient.

"Magic is taught, or passed along...it is not bred like livestock and treated like stones in a slinger's bag or spent like money in a whorehouse..." Akris' gaze moved between the twins with equal disdain. "If he agrees to help us, then we make an arrangement, and we treat with him for his resource as we would for water." Akris took a breath and stepped back, not quite moving fully from between them and the old man.

"If you disrespect the gift you have, it may abandon you...fickle as any woman, sure as any Karma..."

"I can prove that what I say is true."

As they watched, a single block of the dark marble that tiled the floor was lifted up, breaking free from its surrounding mortar.  Then it floated up in the air in front of the magician.  The block must have weighed at least twenty pounds, and who could tell how much force was needed to pry it loose from its place in the floor?

Her brother of course was always the practical and logical one. Wanting to know the logistics, how many stones can the old man lift, how much weight is able to move, etc. How many buildings could the old man potentially dismantle, or even build. All of the various ways the magic abilities could be harnessed to the utmost advantage of Draavos. 

All Zara had heard was the old man’s words, they kept spinning around and around in her own mind.

Rustio shrugged, "I use this power when tending gardens.  Sometimes a stone or a quantity of soil must be moved.  If given a few moments... I could move hundreds of pounds of material.  Perhaps thousands, if I was given the time." 

Really her mind and being made up but just hearing the word garden sealed it for Zara. All the lush gardens and flowers that they could do, even in the desert ground. Perhaps his magic even helped to make the sand fertile? Maybe it could even be trained into doing such things. The possibilities were rather endless, but it was Akris that had brought her out of her internal musings.

Every word Akris spoke shocked her to the core, much more than finding a magic user in their rooms wanting protection. She hadn’t known much about their bodyguard that had been chosen for the task of keeping the twins safe, and to make sure that any kind of plotting against their country would be kept at bay.

Now though, Zara wished they had perhaps learned more before bringing him along. How had they been so blind?  How had they not seen the true enemy in front of them?

Zara gave a quick glance to her brother to see how Akris’ words impacted her twin. Through it all though she kept that smile on her face, that calm demeanor never wavered. All of that diplomatic training had prepared for such an event, otherwise surely she’d have embarrassed herself, her brother and her ancestors.

She switched to her native tongue, as she admonished Arkis:

“Silence!”

“Know. Your. Place. Boy.”

Zara then switched back to the common tongue of Brydd, and moved over to the old man. She curtsied deeply to him,” Mister Debril, I Zara bint Mazul, grant you sanctuary. As long as there is breath in my body, you shall have my protection.”

“Now, let’s leave the details to the men shall we,” Zara then reached out and hooked her arm through the old man’s, and began to tug him out of this room into one of the other chambers for privacy. 

“I will be happy to of course answer any questions you may have of your new homeland, in exchange I have several questions for you. I’m quite the gardener as well. And on the way here, I’ve been making sketches of all these flowers and plants I’ve come across. I apologize but I do not know the names, I would love it if you could share them with me. I would love to be able to label them correctly in my book, you see.”

“Oh, apologies, can you read and write? If not, I shall be happy to teach you if need be….”

@[Cubanwriter]

@Longshot

"How...dare you..." Akris almost hissed the words. "You would be as bad as those who he is fleeing from?" Akris knew he was treading on a line with his behavior, but if they valued his opinion when it was useful, then they would also accept it when it was inconvenient.

"Magic is taught, or passed along...it is not bred like livestock and treated like stones in a slinger's bag or spent like money in a whorehouse..." Akris' gaze moved between the twins with equal disdain. "If he agrees to help us, then we make an arrangement, and we treat with him for his resource as we would for water." Akris took a breath and stepped back, not quite moving fully from between them and the old man.

"If you disrespect the gift you have, it may abandon you...fickle as any woman, sure as any Karma..."

Zaiden only barely concealed his shock at  Akris' remarks.  'How Dare You' were words typically uttered by someone with power, over someone without it.  They were a challenge, and a promise of punishment.  And they were coming from the person assigned to their protection detail.

Until now, it had seemed to Zaiden that Akris was an underling providing useful advice.  But this attitude revealed something different.  Akris considered himself an equal, perhaps even a superior, to Zaiden and his sister.  He believed that he could have a say in what was done, to whom, and why.  

In short, Akris had just become a dire threat at the center of this mission.  A threat that Zaiden was not sure how to remove.  The Sand Devils had potent abilities.  That's why Akris had been chosen.  He was capable of killing many men, or getting into any space necessary to complete a mission.  The only way to defeat such a foe was to stab him in the back.  But how did you stab a devil in the back?   

What if you missed?

Worse, Akris was not merely a threat, but an ignorant one.  He did not understand how magic worked in these realms.  He apparently did not even realize that Zaiden and his sister were part of a breeding program that was already two generations old.  Magic, not bred?  What sort of propaganda was used by the cult that created these Sand Devil assassins?  Did Akris truly believe he could have such power without some trait or taint in his blood?

Zara wisely withdrew with Rustio after making a brief, curt rebuke.

Then Zaiden turned his eyes upon the assassin who could easily kill them all in their sleep.   Or perhaps even while they were awake and ready.

"It is inappropriate for you to contradict us by making outbursts in the middle of an operation or negotiation," Zaiden said simply, "Some of what we say to others is true.  Some of it is false.  Sometimes we will sacrifice someone to achieve the ends of our cause.  Sometimes we will elevate them for the same reasons.  Whatever machine we use to favor Al-Ador, however we operate that machine, we can not have you throwing your shoes into the gears."  It was as far as he dared to go at this time by way of his own rebuke.  

"If you have discomfort with this notion, you may return to your home now.  You will receive full pay for your assignment, and no one shall ever speak of this further.  Go in peace, Devil of the Sands.  Live a long and prosperous life."

Zaiden hoped that the assassin would take the opportunity to leave.  If the man stayed on, he would be a potential cancer in the body of this mission, waiting to sabotage the health of the operation at any point if the man's strange morality and dangerous ignorance flared up anew.

_________________

"Oh.  You have a wonderful technique," Rustio said as he observed the detailed sketches upon the pages of Zara's journal.  "Would that I had such talent!"

He peered at each image for a moment before making commentary, "That is a Blackthorn Rose.  It grows in the mountains, and can be identified because it always has an odd number of petals.  Well, unless something has happened to damage it.   But bugs will not eat this flower, and even goats will not touch it.  You see, it has a very bitter flavor and will even make you ill if you eat it.  Some poor souls have brewed it into a tea, thinking it may have medicinal properties.  Three days of agonizing pain and an early grave was their only reward.  Of course, the bitterness of such a flower prevents accidental ingestion.  You'd have to mix it with sweet wine or some other brew to mistake it..."

And another, "Ah, Brownthistle Bush.  The goats love it, and can eat it even despite its many thorns.  They have mouths of steel.   The bush is very resilient, and re-grows quickly, making it a good source of food for the mounted soldiery's animals in this March..."

And finally, "The Twin Clover, with heart-shaped leaves.  There is a legend that if two lovers each eat one of the cloves, their love will be cemented for eternity, and they will have many children.  Some say the plant can be brewed into a love potion, but I am no alchemist..."

Darklingfae

Longshot

"It is inappropriate for you to contradict us by making outbursts in the middle of an operation or negotiation," Zaiden said simply, "Some of what we say to others is true.  Some of it is false.  Sometimes we will sacrifice someone to achieve the ends of our cause.  Sometimes we will elevate them for the same reasons.  Whatever machine we use to favor Al-Ador, however we operate that machine, we can not have you throwing your shoes into the gears."  It was as far as he dared to go at this time by way of his own rebuke.  

"If you have discomfort with this notion, you may return to your home now.  You will receive full pay for your assignment, and no one shall ever speak of this further.  Go in peace, Devil of the Sands.  Live a long and prosperous life."

Akris stared at one half of the pair he was sworn to protect. "You forget. The contract is not with you. I have taken a vow to ensure the safety of you and your sister in this land of alien ways. I cannot take my leave of you any more than you can dismiss me..." Akris then held up a hand before the brother could speak. "...Fear not...I will not shirk my duties over our difference of opinion. I am not here to ensure the success of your plan. My duty is to make sure neither one of you dies. I do not have to endorse this scheme of yours to perform what is required of me."

The assassin regarded the man coolly "Do not underestimate me. You are welcome to misjudge me, but never underestimate me."

Zara held onto each word the old man uttered about the various flowers and plants she had sketched. She grabbed a scrap of paper and began to jot down the information he was so freely given to her. She soaked up the knowledge like a rag dipped in water. Such a diverse foliage the land had, from helping one to find eternal night, to helping one find eternal love. 

So many ideas began to swirl around in her mind, all the different things that they could create, all the various possibilities that were at their fingertips. The man was a boon, a sign that they were on the right path, and being rewarded already for their work. Their task was not yet complete, but it already was sprouting seeds of victory for them.

“Do you think you can make gardens where none grew before? Our homeland is not known for growing much, flowers are a rarity. I’ve dreamed of creating lush, vast gardens since I was a child. It would be a real boon if we could make the land fertile for such wealth to prevail for our people,” Zara smiled, and curtsied to the old man.

“Oh, do forgive me. I can get quite carried away when it comes to talks of things that bloom. I’m being quite a terrible hostess. Do you care for any drink or food? I’d be happy to serve our new desert botanist!”

Zara glanced towards the other room where her brother and their bodyguard were most likely making a lot of male posturing. There were parts that all of them had to play, and her brother was a master actor. 

The real story would be told when the sun set, and there were no peeking eyes or ears around.  Only then would she know what everyone’s fate would be.

@[Cubanwriter]

Longshot

"...never underestimate me."

Zaiden felt the chill of a cold fire burning through him at those words.  There was now no doubt in his mind that he and his sister were in danger.  The Raj, recognizing the importance of this mission, had thought to hire one man with the power of ten.  It would have been better to bring one soldier who could follow orders, rather than this independent creature who might do anything.  As in most stories, this deal with the devil had already turned down a dark path.

"I shall remember to always estimate you correctly, Devil of the Sands."

__________________

The next hours were full of activity.   Additional servants were allowed up from the camel train to help wash and dress the envoys of Al-Ador.  These servants would not be remaining within the fort's inner walls overnight, and would instead encamp in the courtyard until they were needed.  There, under the watchful eye of the fort's guards.  

It was a risk, to bring up six and send seven down again.  But while the Bryddians of Mindolin seemed to have their eye on their distrusted visitors, they also seemed to have forgotten to count them.  One servant, more or less, seemed to draw no particular interest.

So far.

Eventually, the time for dinner came.  A Paige was sent to escort them to the dining hall, where a single table was flanked by long glass windows.  Here, finally, the visitors from the East could take some pride in their accomplishments over the endless wealth of the Bryddian Kingdom.  For these glass windows were not native, but instead costly imports from the Draavosi Dune Sea, where people knew how to make perfect, clear glass.  Native Bryddian glass was of poor quality compared to these.  The Blackfort had been forced to choose:  Have inferior windows, or import from their former enemies.  

Pride had forced them to select Draavosi glass.

It was that same pride which was central to the envoys' plans.

Zaiden and Zara were announced as Lords and Ladies, Envoys of Al-Ador.  Akris was announced as Sir Akris, as the Bryddians assumed only a Knight would be in such close company to other nobles, even staying with them in their suite of rooms.  

That was a misconception Zaiden had no intention of correcting.

Sir Lardin was here, as was the Lord of the Blackfort, Reeve Piotr Mindolin whom they'd met earlier.  Also here was the Templar of Ceros, alluded to be present by their rescued runaway magician.  Introduced as the Templar Velom, the glowing rings in the night sky cast a foreboding light upon the man.  The native Bryddians were all seated to Lord Piotr's right, while the Draavosi were consigned to the less favored left side of the table.   

"So," Templar Velom spoke in a deep, accusing tone, "the envoys of the East, where dark denizens dwell.  What brings envoys of a petty desert Kingdom into the halls of the Blackfort?"

Sir Lardin, who seemed the most tolerant of the assembled Bryddian personalities, spoke up.  "They are here at the invitation of the King," he said, "to bring gifts and honor to the Tourney on the Anniversary of our Kingdom."

Velom scoffed, "They may bring gifts..."

His eyes and tone said the rest.

The Lord of the Blackfort spoke up now, "I have ordered plenty of fruits and vegetables to be brought along with the roast pig.  I know your lands suffer a poverty of healthful plants.  Everything in your country is barbed and covered with thorns."

Longshot

Darklingfae

The Lord of the Blackfort spoke up now, "I have ordered plenty of fruits and vegetables to be brought along with the roast pig.  I know your lands suffer a poverty of healthful plants.  Everything in your country is barbed and covered with thorns."

Akris sat beside the twins and buried his disdain for this "Lord". Any man trusted with a fortification such as this on the frontier of an enemy who was defeated a long time ago would do well not to insult that same enemy so offhandedly with no new knowledge to work from. Akris immediately labeled the Lord as an Ignorant, Arrogant, Racist Fool. Should it become necessary to eliminate this man, Akris had no worry that whatever measures he relied on to protect himself would be woefully inadequate.  Akris' eyes moved around the room. The soldiers of Brydd seemed to be of a different cut. Men of pragmatism and experience. Akris assumed they had other threats that had to be dealt with so their blades had seen blood during their time as warriors.

Akris took a drink from his goblet. The water inside had the tang of a well, which meant the Fort still had a trustworthy source of water. Akris planned to be careful of what he ate and drank tonight. He seriously doubted this Lord would be so devious, but even an unexpected reaction to food could compromise their ability to defend themselves.

Brydd was a farce that Zara had to endure. The Blackfort was built upon a foundation of tyranny and lies. Soon the foundation would be nothing but rubble, but until that time, they all had their pieces they were to play on the chessboard of diplomacy. The dinner that was being presented for the guests of “honor” was just another event to endure, a smaller mockery in the sea of insults they must cross.

Zara had taken her time, she needed to make sure every hair was in place perfectly, every piece of jewelry hand selected that spoke of wealth and gentility.  The modest but luxurious dress chosen to hint at the beauty she held. Not a speck of dirt, not a speck of sand, not a speck of the desert that she hailed from was to be seen. The flower pattern on the silken fabric was a subtle nod to the March of Mindolin, an honor to the place that welcomed them inside their doors. Red for the Red Ram that adorned their crest.  Black for the Blackfort.

The entire dinner was full of subtle and not so subtle messages telling her that her people and homeland were not worthy of riches, not like Byrrd and their people were. The Templar with his clear hatred for magic and the rumors that her homeland was fertile with such atrocities. She hoped it kept him up at night with worry and anxiety.  

Zara played her part perfectly, the metaphorical armor she wore kept the Templar’s barbs of hatred from penetrating her. 

A shy, sweet smile was etched on her delicate features, she softly inquired to the Templar, “Good Sir Velom, will you be a participant in the Tournament? Our very kind escort Sir Lardin I’m told will be taking part. I look forward to seeing the valor and bravery of Brydd on display.”

Then The Lord of the Blackfort spoke up, "I have ordered plenty of fruits and vegetables to be brought along with the roast pig.  I know your lands suffer a poverty of healthful plants.  Everything in your country is barbed and covered with thorns."

Zara bestowed a smile over to the Lord, and she was prompt to offer her thanks, “That is very generous indeed my Lord. Everything is so bountiful here, I do beg of you and your people for my ignorance, as I’m not familiar with all of these intriguing foods.”

“May I ask what is this? It looks divine,” Zara pointed at one of the platters of fruits. She knew exactly what it was, but if they wanted to believe the desert dwellers were ignorant to such fine things, she wasn’t going to correct them.

Besides, the Lord of the Blackfort had stumbled onto the truth of the matter, she was covered in thorns, and soon he would feel the full wrath of them. The only question was where would she strike first, the eye, the throat…or the cock. 

So many possibilities…

@[Cubanwriter]

Longshot

"Everything in your country is barbed and covered with thorns..."

Zaiden privately wondered what it would feel like to plant a fork in the man's eye.   Aloud, he said, "You would be surprised at the soft, subtle pleasures that can be found among the sands, my Lord."

The Lord of the Blackfort blushed and sputtered, and Zaiden could see that the man had indeed given those pleasures some thought.  How could he not?  Whatever bigotries these people held, they could not hope to miss the fact that his sister was as beautiful as a desert rose.

His sister diverted the conversation to safer topics, and potentially more revealing ones.  First, she asked Velom if he would be participating in the tournament.  The Templar stiffened, particularly after it was pointed out to him that Sir Lardin would be competing.

"We of the Templars do not squander our strength and honor on games of supposed prestige," he said.  "We fight for Ceros, and our contests tend to be to the death.  For death is what heresy and lawlessness deserve."

The Templar almost glared in the direction of the Draavosi contingent as he spoke the word 'heresy.'

"A shame," Zaiden lamented aloud, "it must be difficult to win a game that one has never played at.  A pity that Ceros does not allow his adherents to sharpen their skills to the level of other knights."

Zara's question about the types of fruits and vegetables on display diverted any potential retort.

Lord Piotr replied, "This is Tomarian fruit.  Succulent and sour.   And this, Velderberries, sweet and tart.  And..."  The man seemed to forget his animosity for a moment as he went on and on about the various pieces of produce.  

The dinner proceeded without much further incident, until the end of the meal, when a soldier came and whispered in the Templar's ear.  He seemed displeased, and waved the man away.

"What news," Lord Piotr asked, the Reeve leaning forward a bit in his chair.

The Templar eyed the guests, "There is a fugitive on the loose," he confessed.  "While we enjoyed this supper, I had men search the envoys' rooms to be sure he was not secreted there.  Perhaps planning to murder you in your sleep.  But we found no sign of him.  So it seems you are safe."

Zaiden allowed himself to look surprised.  "A fugitive?  If this is so, perhaps my sister should sleep elsewhere.  What if he should yet sneak into our bedchambers?"

The Templar looked to Akris, "Well then, surely your bodyguard would deal with him."  The man peered a gaze of disdain at the Sand Devil.

Zaiden's face was a mask of dismay, "Even so... perhaps there is a more secure location within the Fort?"

The old Reeve's mind was at work behind his bushy eyebrows.  Truly, bigotry was no match for desire. 

"She may rest in my suite," Lord Piotr suggested, "there are many connected rooms in it, and two bedchambers.  She may choose one.  It shall be as well protected as if she were my own self."

The Templar seemed appalled.  "You can not mean to let one of these... persons... into your personal chambers?!"

Zaiden shrugged, "Normally I might object to such an arrangement myself.  But they shall not be sleeping in the same room, surely.  Merely the same suite of rooms, yes?  And I believe we can count on the Lord Reeve's good conduct.  With a malcontent on the loose, it seems the better choice."

The Lord of the Blackfort coughed, cleared his throat, and then nodded his aged head.  "It is settled, then.  And she may bring the bodyguard to stand watch over her door, if that is desired."

Zaiden smiled broadly, "Your generosity of spirit and hospitality shall be well remembered."

The Templar rose, "Well.  I have a fugitive to catch, and this dinner has already cost me much time."

"Happy hunting," Zaiden said as the man withdrew.

He then shared significant glances with his sister and their bodyguard.  He only hoped that the Sand Devil could be trusted to do more than he had promised mere hours ago.  The Lord of the Fort probably kept many secret things among his personal effects.  Secret things that might prove especially valuable to the effort of Al-Ador.  This was an unparalleled intelligence-gathering opportunity.

Longshot

Darklingfae

Akris listened to the byplay between their host and the twins and smiled inwardly. This lecherous old man was just handing over the keys to his innermost secrets simply for some fantasized hope of having an illicit tryst with some foreign woman who he doesn't even know.

Akris caught the look from the lord when he had mentioned him as a bodyguard, like he was just another soldier in their army. Should this old man try and lay a hand or anything else on Zara, Akris would have to decide if he needed to cut off whatever he touched her with. He understood that the twins were here to gather information, but he was not sure how far the two of them were willing to go to achieve their aims.

The Sand Devil also understood from the comments they made that they would expect him to do his part in gathering information about their host, and his knowledge and plans for the future. Perhaps tonight would be a useful occasion after all.