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"I have been carefully monitoring Lord Baralis' movements. He goes nowhere
without his fool Crope."
"That is not my problem. I want him dead, and I want it done soon."
"You will not have to wait much longer, Lord Maybor. It is my intention to
make my move soon."
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"How soon?" pressured Maybor.
"Lord Maybor, I will not tell you the details. It is better that you do not
know when and where. Let it come as a surprise-you will be better able to act
your part that way."
Maybor knew that what the assassin said made sense. "Very well, so be it. I
must have your word that it will be done soon though."
"You have it, Lord Maybor." The assassin was about to withdraw when a question
occurred to Maybor.
"What have you found out about Baralis? Surely you must have seen some
interesting things by following him around."
The assassin appeared to hesitate for a moment before speaking. "I have found
out little about the man's secrets, he barely leaves his rooms."
Maybor suspected that the assassin was holding something back from him. He
decided to press no further until the job was done; he could not risk
aggravating the assassin before then. Once it was completed was another
matter. In fact, once the deed was done, he might even arrange for Scarl
himself to have an accident. Maybor dearly loved his apple orchards and was
loathe to part with thirty acres of them. These thoughts cheered his spirits
considerably.
"Very well, Scarl. I trust you will do as you say."
Scarl gave him a brief guarded look and said, "I will do my job, have no fear,
Lord Maybor." With that, he withdrew leaving Maybor to the stench of the
middens.
Maybor watched as the assassin walked away. He did not trust him; after all,
what was he but a hired murderer? He would do his job, Maybor was sure of
that. Once he had done it, however, he might find himself a victim of an
assassin's knife.
Maybor waited a while and wondered how long it would be before his daughter
was found. Twelve days now had passed since she bolted. He knew she would be
alive and well: the girl had spirit and initiative-after all she was his
daughter. Now he had his men riding into all the towns and villages that
bordered on the great forest in case Melliandra turned up in one of them. He
had even spread a discreet word about rewards that could be received, if
information leading to his daughter's recovery was given.
There was a risk with doing so, but he was running out of time. He was forced
to take broader measures:
he had to find Melliandra. She would be betrothed! He would be father to a
queen.
Melli awoke and immediately felt sick. She hurried to the washstand, where she
threw up, retching violently. She felt awful. She returned to sit on the bed,
as she was feeling a little faint, and tried to think what to do next. She did
not trust Mistress Greal. She would retrieve her horse and move on.
Unfortunately, she was feeling so weak that the last thing she felt like was
walking all day.
There was the briefest of knocks on her door and Mistress Greal sailed in.
"My, my. What's happened to you?" She saw the mess in the washstand. "Oh, I
see, not used to cider, eh? Well never mind, you'll live. A jug of cider's
never killed anyone, save old Ma Crutly-she got hit over the head with one."
The woman busied herself tidying the room.
"I thank you for your hospitality, but I will be on my way today. I have left
the pots we agreed upon on top of the chest. I trust you will be happy with
the payment." Melli indicated the plate and pots.
Mistress Greal's already small eyes narrowed further. "You don't look to be in
any state to be off, deary.
You'd best stay another day. Relax and have a nice bath. I drew one for you
last night, but when I came to ready you, you were fast asleep."
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The sound of a hot bath and a day relaxing was far too tempting, and Melli
relented. "Very well, Mistress Greal, I will stay another day. But I warn you,
I have nothing else to pay you."
"Don't worry about that, deary, that's nothing to me. I just want to help a
fellow woman on her way.
Now, I'll have a nice breakfast sent up and arrange to have another bath
drawn. I also took the liberty of seeing about a new dress. You can't go
having a nice bath and then put on those filthy clothes, can you?"
The woman regarded Melli's dirty and disheveled clothes with distaste, making
Melli feel ashamed. "You are too good to me, Mistress Greal. But if you could
just have my clothes cleaned, I would not trouble you for new ones."
"Nonsense, that dress is badly tom. Besides, the clothes won't be new. They're
very pretty, though-show you off to your best advantage." Mistress Greal left
the room, and Melli had no chance to ask what she meant by showing her off to
her best advantage. Melli had no desire to be shown off.
Her attentions were diverted by the arrival of a hot and delicious breakfast:
crisp bacon, poached egg, grilled mushrooms, and plenty of bread and butter.
She tucked in heartily.
Whatever Mistress Greal's motives, Melli thanked her for providing such
delicious food.
After she had eaten, a sallow-faced girl appeared and led Melli to a small
room that contained a round, wooden bath. The water was steaming hot and Melli
soaked for a long time, soothing the aches of her body. After a while she
permitted the girl to scrub her back and wash her hair. She dried herself on a
woolen towel: it felt so good to be clean. She looked at the bathwater and was
horrified to see it was a murky brown color. She had obviously been a lot
dirtier than she had thought.
Once dry, the girl handed Melli a deep, crimson-colored dress. It was not to
Melli's taste, but as her own dress had been taken away, she was forced to put
it on. The bodice was cut low and exposed much of Melli's breast. The girl
then pulled the lacing so tight that Melli could hardly breathe, and her
breasts were pushed up high toward her chin. There was no mirror so she could
not see what she looked like, but she suspected she must look rather improper,
not at all like a lady of the court. She asked the girl to loosen the lacings
a little, but the girl refused.
"That's the way Mistress Greal likes 'em," she said.
A few moments later, as the girl was dressing her hair, Mistress Greal herself
walked in. She seemed pleased at what she saw. She walked around Melli, making
approving, clucking sounds. She finally spoke. "My, my. Who would have guessed
you would have turned out so well? Of course, I have got a good eye for
beauty, but I can see I've surpassed myself this time." She then spoke to the
girl, "Keddi, leave her hair down. Such fine hair, it's a waste to tie it up."
The girl obediently took the pins from Melli's hair. Mistress Greal came
toward Melli and smoothed her hand over Melli's face and bosom.
"My, my, you are a pretty one." She noticed Melli's distaste at being touched.
"No need to be coy, girl. I
would have thought such a pretty posy as you would be well used to being
admired."
"Please, Mistress Greal, I find this all rather embarrassing. If you could ask
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