In quiet tones they have been discussing their next supply run. This will be a difficult one. The local clan lord is unhappy with the prices being offered for his women's finely woven woolens. It's those tax penalties. If you pay your taxes on time, then you get full price, cash for your goods all year. The longer you delay, the greater the discount paid on your goods. Kelleran just likes to be the exception. If the shipment is short, then the amulet he has requested as part of his payment will be useless. Ian and Derek don't like Kelleran. He's always trying to short pay them for the goods they haul. He's tight and intolerant. He's turned out ten witchlings each of the last two winters. The youngest was barely old enough to walk on her own. The power is strong in his clan, but he just can't deal with the thought.

So many of them died, or lived like wild animals before the Zwardz came to stay in the Uplands. Just because they were different.

Ian stretches out his long legs and catches the wineskin tossed by his twin brother without looking for it. Since Kelleran refused to deal with them anywhere but in his chapel at high noon, they've sent him a message arranging for the transaction to take place tomorrow. They are camped just beyond the bounds of his official territory. Their mounts are hidden with wards just a few yards away. The gold for Kelleran's woolens is hidden in a tree in case of attack. It's no secret that this is a risky way to make a living. Twice before the twins have been taken captive, but the neighbouring clans have harangued Kelleran into releasing them. The Zwardz don't much care why your goods aren't being delivered, only that they do get delivered. Lucky for the twins they hold a near monopoly on this service.

Derek lights a tiny cook fire and pulls out the hare he caught by surprise earlier that day. He dresses it in herbs picked wild along the day's path and stakes it over the flames to roast. Ian grins, showing his crooked teeth, and pulls a small bundle out from beneath his cloak.

"I lifted a sweet for us this morning, mates."

From the bundle emerges the remains of a wild berry pie. The innkeeper he stole it from will probably never notice, and if she does, she'll probably consider it an offering to the faireys. The only people Ian doesn't steal from are his brother and the Zwardz. Rodney laughs and pulls out his long stemmed pipe and pouch, an entice aroma rises as he loads the bowl.

"How about a little appetite stimulation to preface our evening feast?"

They share the bowl and the wineskin easily, but quietly, each of them aware of their semi-precarious distance from Kelleran's border. They will sleep in shifts tonight and even then not too deeply. Wary of the possibilities, but not afraid of them.

Tea and the last crumbs of the pie serve for breakfast. Derek artfully wipes out all signs of the night's camping while Ian and Rodney saddle the horses.

It's mid-morning, plenty of time to travel the last mile or so to the Kelleran's private chapel before noon. Provided, of course, that no one tries to rob them along the way. Most but, not all of the regional cutthroats won't hijack a party of goods for the Zwardz, but cold, hard gold can be an entirely separate subject. The twins ride with swords drawn and Rod's bow is strung across his knee, and arrow notched and ready.

The quiet is broken only by the sounds of Nature living out her life. The low hum of insects and the rustle of small animals miving through the underbrush doesn't quite lull the party into complacence. The horses move in near silence, their tack muffled by leather bindings. No words pass between Rod and/or the twins, a look and a nod suffice to signal a stop just shy of the first official outpost of Kelleran's territory. Stepping off the path, they settle into a glade to wait for noon. It would be of no use to show up early and wait around Kelleran's in compound. The clansmen are very suspicous of outsiders, especially of the twins, and waiting about in their midst would only breed bad feelings. So, they hobble the horses, and sprawl into the dappled sunlight to pass the rest of the morning.

Rod nestles the bag of coins under one knee and pulls out sugar candies from a hidden pocket. Tossing the bag up and down in one hand, he glances back and forth between the twins.

"Who's got the goods? We've a little time to kill."

Ian's eyebrows creep up a bit.

"Aren't we a bit close to those guards to light up?"

Derek laughs and pulls out his pipe and pouch.

"Never! Maybe if one of them smells us out we can have some friendly company."

That comment brings sinckers from his companions. As the pipe is passed around, the conversation continues.

"We're buying a cart and ponies today too. That's the only way Kelleran will sell his woolens to the Zwardz this year. I can only hope the ponies aren't freshly beaten and starved."

Derek passed on the pipe and exhaled.

"Don't worry, Rod. Even if they are, once we make it out of his territory we can switch the horses to the cart and walk the ponies. I'll make sure they at least get a good watering before we take off."

This is received with a relieved look by Rod. Animals aren't afraid of the twins, just superstitious people.

The twins alternate napping and keeping watch while Rod reads from one volume and makes notes into another, to pass the rest of the morning. They're hidden less that a quarter hour's walk from the appointed meeting place.

Shortly before the sun reaches it's zenith, Ian whistles softly to alert his companions. Rod's books disappear and his weapons appear in their place. Derek pretends to to have noticed anything, but his sword has found it's way out of it's sheath and into the leaf cover below his hand. One of Kelleran's many sons is nervously walking down the path in their direction.

Ian grins, as still as can be. The boy is waiting by the stone that markes the boundries of his father's territory. He's wearing the bright red and white sash of a hostage/guide and carrying a wooden sword to indicate an armed camp awaiting his return. In accordance with their custom, Ian and Derek capture him. Disarming and binding his arms behind his back takes mere seconds. Only now does Rod emerge from the thicket. He is seated easily on his mount and does not speak. Their guide is a mere child hardly more that ten winters old, red haired and pale. He is quite literally shaking in his oversized boots.

"I am Sean mec Kelleran. I have been sent to bring you to our chapel to trade with my father. Any harm that comes to me will be returned unto you exactly."

Only the names ever change in this litle speech. It is a ritual acknowledged everywhere in the Uplands.

Rod still does not speak. He signals for the twins to unbind the boy and return his now broken sword. Mounting their horses, and coming up behind Rod, the twins speak in unison.

"Lead on hostage, the Zwardz representative will speak to none but the head of your clan."

The twin speak almost completely unnerves the boy, as it does nearly everyone, but he manages to walk down the path without bursting into a frightened run. As he reaches the compound's gate, he hails for admittnace.

"Tis I, Sean. I have guided the Zwardz trading party to our gate. Let us pass through."

By prior arrangement, all three dismount and leave the horses with Ian to stand in the middle of the gateway. The gate will not be allowed to close while any one of the three of them reamains inside. Derek gains a firm hold of Sean's hair and follows Rod into the dilapidated chapel at precisely noon.

Sunlight peeks through the remains of stained-glass windows, falling across the priest and adding colour to his drab brown robe. His is thin and carries the healing marks of more than one beating. It is rumoured that Kelleran beat his predecessor to death for giving a sermon about having mercy on witchlings. In theory, the priest is present to protect Kelleran from any evil powers, in reality he is here because he can count higher than Kelleran.

Rod stands just within the door frame of the chapel allowing the priest to sprinkle him with "holy" water and mutter a half hearted prayer of protection for Kelleran. The priest doesn't dare look either of them in the eye, but settles onto one of the crude benches to await his next function.

Only now does Rod speak.

"My master does not apprectiate having his messangers returned to him with broken limbs."

Kelleran's head snaps up, an angry look and a false smile doing battle on his face.

"In response to your actions of last month, your niece, Amanda, will be included in today's purchase with no additional compensation."

The false smile quickly fades into mere barred teeth, and his prickly black beard stands straight out from his face, betraying how tightly his jaws are clenched. The colour drains from his face as he struggles to come up with a coherent response.

"Don't bother protesting, Kelleran. You know that no one wil buy your goods if we leave here with my master's demands unmet; and you cannot afford to starve this winter. Have the girl brought to me immediately, with clothing on. Unless you would like to loose your son as well for keeping me waiting."

Kelleran looks about himself for an object to hurl at this unwanted messenger of his greatest enemy, but is restrained by a sudden yelp coming from his son as Derek picks him up off the floor by the hair. Kelleran instead gestures violently at the priest.

"Send someone to fetch the wench and get that cart into the courtyard, NOW!!!"

As the priest scurriest to do his bidding, Kelleran turns to the altar clenching and unclenching his fists. The struggle to control himself is obvious to the enemies standing at his back. After regaining some semblance of control over his breathing, the clan lord once again turns to face Rod.

"You may tell your master that I do not appreciate having my clan's affairs run by himself or anyone else. When my priest returns we will count your dirty money and you will be gone soonest, or I'll have your stinking heads on pikes before my gates!"

Rod merely smiles and nods infuriatingly. He knows that this is not a threat to be taken seriously. Kelleran is much too weak to kill him openly. He is much more likely to arrange for an accident to happen safely beyond his own borders.

The girl child is dragged, kicking and screaming into the chapel. She is small, about six winters, dirty and dressed only in a too large, ragged shift. Her mouth shuts abruptly and her struggles cease when she spots the grey and black diamond pattern on Rod's cloak; a different sort of fear seems to settle over her.

A slave's collar is produced from one of the Zwardz emissary's many pockets. Holding it, he approaches the priest and child.The priest hurriedly releases her, backing toward his relics for protection. Amanda stands silently trembling, watching Rod's boots approach her. He settles the collar about her neck and attaches a lead from his belt. Where he goes, she must now follow.

Kelleran can be heard fuming behind them, as once again he is forced to submit the the whims of his enemy. He knows that if he doesn't comply with the Zwardz wishes, his clan will be cursed for the winter and most likely won't survive.

Rod returns to his spot by the door, the girlchild trailing in his wake. He tosses a heavy, clinking bag at Kelleran.

"There is your agreed payment of 50 gold pieces, 100 silver pieces, and a guardian amulet to enhance your guards watchfulness. Count the coins and then we will inspect the cart together."

The priest scuttles over to pick up the bag from where Kelleran let it fall on the floor, afraid to touch it for fear of it being cursed. He dumps it out onto the altar for counting. The sweet sound of clinking coins momentarily fills the chapel.

"All of the coins are here, and none of it is cursed."

Satisfied with his priet's appraisal, Kelleran curtly waves the trading party out of his chapel. They exit, Sean still in Derek's capable grasp. In the small courtyard stands a pony cart piled high with wollen goods. The ponies hitched to it don't look too thin to manage the task, buth the cart looks about to fall to pieces. Rod glances at Ian, who spreads his hands non-commitally. The cart might last the journey, and then again it might not. A list is produced from another of Rod's many pockets and inventory is taken rapidly.

"The High Lord Zward will be very pleased with the quality of your goods. Spend your money in good health Lord Kelleran."

D uring the inventory taking, Ian tied the reigns of the ponies to hi s horse's saddle and checked all of the fastenings personally. If he can at all help it, no broken straps or loose bindings will delay this ride. Derek is mounted, with the hostage guide still in his grasp, and is waiting in the open gateway. Rod mounts his sandy coloured horse, giving Amanda a hand up, to sit behind him under his cloak. Together they proceed out tho the hostile compound in no apparent hurry.

Sean mec Kelleran is dropped off at the stone marker where he originally met up with them, and they proceed casually up the path. Having waited only long enough to be certain that they are out of sight, they cut off the main road onto one of the paths that will lead them straight to the Zwardz stronghold. Hopefully to arrive before nightfall.