The Knight and the Thief

The Knight and the Thief - Part 3

By Pfantazm

After Thom finished bathing, he found their copy of the list of items the wizard Eleazar needed from them. Sir Madoc of the King's High Guard was still cleaning himself in the stream by their camp. Thom sat on the bank, dressed.

"Madoc, what is a `silvered glass'?" he asked, referring to the third item among the spell ingredients.

"It's a sort of mirror, made magically from glass with a silver backing, rather than being just silver."

"Oh, is that all. That's funny. That's one of the things I was supposed to nick from my next target."

Madoc looked up from his ablutions. "`Your next target?' You had it all planned in advance?"

"Of course I did," Thom said, surprised the knight would think otherwise. "You don't gain the reputation of the Dark Rogue by picking your pigeons will-ye-nill-ye." Madoc stopped what he was doing to listen. "I even had this one recommended to me. A fence I know, whose name, I'm afraid, I cannot tell you, said that the merchant Tybalt had a trader ship that was bound for Karelia raided. They say it was carrying a large load of art objects, your mirror included, that were to be sold at auction, but Tybalt decided to take the lot for himself."

"How did the fence know all this?" Madoc asked, amazed.

"Oh, one of the servants opened her mouth in front of the wrong people and word got back to R-- to my friend. The auctionhouse was quite willing to pay to have these items reclaimed and I was the man to do it."

"Why didn't the auctionhouse report this to the authorities? And why didn't your fence?" Madoc was becoming angry.

"Simple. No proof. If you hadn't found those diamonds on me, no matter what other things you had, we wouldn't be talking to each other right now. By the time the 'house had their evidence, they'd have their swag back. Pursuing the matter after that is bad for business."

Madoc was still scowling, but he was beginning to see the thief's point. "I'll have to report this at the garrison. They'll have to deal with it while we finish our quest."

"Then we'll be able to lend that mirror to Magister Eleazar for his cure, right?"

"We cannot. It is evidence."

Now, it was Thom's turn to look incredulous, while Madoc scrubbed his hair. "Then where else will we get our hands on another glass mirror?"

"We can send for one from the castle in Aragon. Lady Tandara has such a mirror, and she will donate it to this cause."

"But it will take two days for the message to get there by carrier pigeon, a day to get the thing, and four days to bring it back. That's a whole week! Tybalt's mirror is just outside Karelia, not even a day's ride away!"

"We cannot do that," Madoc explained. "It is evidence against Tybalt, and the King's Guard must return it."

The wheels were turning inside Thom's head. He smiled the devil's own grin. "No, it's not."

"What do you mean? If Tybalt stole the mirror, then it is evidence."

"But we don't know that Tybalt has it," Thom said with mock innocence. "I only have the word of a thief, and I can tell you that he is not a trustworthy man. You don't have a case."

Madoc stammered. "But... you... if..."

"You'll never find my fence, and you'll never get the auctionhouse to admit a thing. If you want to bring Tybalt in, you'll need to see for yourself."

Madoc waded out of the stream, naked. By now he thought nothing of exposing himself to Thom; they had shared much in their time together. "So that is precisely what the Guard will do."

Thom followed him over to Fleetfire. "It won't work. Tybalt will see them coming a mile off. The man is slick as satin. He'll clean house before they get to his door and make your men feel bad for taking up his precious time. I know about this man. I know his birthday. I know his son's name. I know that he has a prize stag's head mounted on the wall in his library. No one will ever see that mirror again unless a thief gets to it."

Madoc searched through the sacks on Fleetfire's bridle for his towel. "Are you suggesting we steal it?!"

"I'm suggesting we enter Tybalt's manse and seize some evidence. Even if you lock eyes on that mirror, you'll still have no case unless you come away with some proof."

Madoc was searching the bag on the far side of the horse now. "And how would we get in without him `cleaning house'?"

Thom handed him his towel, which he'd used earlier. "We simply won't tell him who we-- you are."

Madoc took the towel and began drying his hair. "We can't," he said simply, as if that settled everything.

Thom sighed, exasperated. "Tell me you pigs have never gone into - sorry," he said to Madoc, who had been glaring at him since the word 'pigs'. "Tell me you gentlemen have never gone into a man's home and taken something that proved he'd committed a crime."

Madoc glared even at the word `gentlemen'. "We have, I'll admit," he said, "but we always declared who we were. To do otherwise would be immoral."

"Immoral's a long way off from illegal. And if we do this thing, you'll be able to arrest Tybalt, and you'll be helping to save the good people of Cairncross. Your uppers won't--"

"Superiors."

"Whoever. They won't bust you down for doing all that."

Madoc looked at him. He had run out of arguments. Thom smiled. "Well?"

"I cannot credit what I'm about to do. Alright. We'll do this your way. I don't see where I have a choice." Madoc began to dress.

"Don't bother," Thom said, taking off his shirt. "We have preparations to make. To start, we'll both need a good shave."

Madoc didn't understand.

"We're going to Tybalt's manse. We're not a King's High Guardsman and the thief he caught nigh on a week ago, here to nab his precious mirror. So who are we? I've got a cover all worked out. You are Hadrian of Janusport, son of Owain, who is a partner in a trading company there. Tybalt has been trying to establish a deal with Owain and Company for some months now. When you show up at his door coincidentally this evening, he'll practically kiss your boots. I will be your manservant, Thom. No one else knows me by both my names, so that will be safe, and it will give you less to remember. You'll have enough to worry about just being Hadrian."

Madoc was agape. "Did you just come up with this?"

"No, I was going to use this story with a young lad in Karelia who was to be my manservant, but you have no experience at all, so I'd better be in the controlling role."

"The servant is in control?"

"Of course. He has to see to all of his master's needs, and that often means being more alert than he is. The master takes all the attention, but the servant does all the work. Now, after we arrive, Tybalt is going to insist on dining with you. He's going to want to talk about your `father,' Owain, so you'll have to learn all about him so you don't look foolish or give us away."

"Wait," Madoc managed. "Why aren't you Hadrian, since you already know all of this?"

Thom rolled his eyes and sighed. "Because I need to be the control. All the while you're distracting the host, I'll be working out how to pull off the theft. I can't do that while I'm chattering with Tybalt. Now, Owain was born in Janusport, and he's lived there all his life...."

Thom recited details of Owain's life, and Hadrian's, while they prepared in other ways. They were both shaved, because it wouldn't do for a gentleman to be otherwise. Madoc's distinctive red tabard lined the bottom of one of the two bridle sacks. His sword could be recognizable, but they couldn't replace it or ditch it anywhere, so they'd just have to trust to luck. Madoc's blue tunic, grey hose and sturdy boots were acceptable for a wealthy gentleman and black was fine for a manservant's costume, so no extra clothing was needed.

Thom considered the man before him: very thickly muscled at 6'2", his hair such a dark brown it was almost black, his eyes a striking blue. His leather cuirass gripped and accentuated his massive chest. He was extremely handsome, and well suited to his role in every way except for his face. On most days, it was deadpan and serious. Today, it showed insecurity and anxiety about the coming task. He gripped Fleetfire's reins nervously as they readied themselves for the trip.

"Madoc," Thom said.

"What?"

"Not only do you have to know everything I've told you about your cover, you have to act like Hadrian would. Hadrian is a rich man's son. He's journeying in these parts looking for adventure. He's confident, sure of himself. He does not strangle the reins of his horse until his knuckles are white." Madoc relaxed his hands. "Loosen up. I'll take care of the rest." In truth, neither of them knew where the real Hadrian was. As far as Thom knew, he was still in Janusport but with luck, he was anywhere but nearby Tybalt's estates.

As they rode Fleetfire slowly toward Tybalt's manes, Thom drilled Madoc. Hadrian and Thom were travelling with a coach, the story would go, when they were accosted by highwaymen. Hadrian and Thom fought them off while the coach went on ahead, and the two men lost it. At this late hour, they needed a place to stay, and they had the good fortune to come upon Tybalt's estates.

They rode without the benefit of the waterproof blanket around them because, Thom said, it looked like rain. Madoc tried to puzzle that one out until Thom explained. "It'll work in our favor if we're drenched to the bone. We can play into his sympathies. This whole scheme is about image. If we can make him believe we are who we say we are, we'll get away with it." This logic was cold comfort, however, when the rain started coming down.

Well after the sun had set, the two men led their white stallion up to the door of Tybalt's manse. Madoc hesitated. How on earth could he do this? But he had gone over his captive's arguments, and could find no hole in them. This was the only way to solve both problems quickly. He raised his arm and knocked.

He heard Thom gasp behind him. Thom grabbed for his right hand.

"Quick! Give me your hand! Before they open the door!"

Madoc held out his hand. Thom turned over the ring that bound him to Madoc so that it looked more like a common ring, and not the obvious blue-stoned dog trainer's ring it really was. Thom only managed to compose himself again in time for a young woman to come to the door.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Good evening, m'lady," Madoc said quickly. "We were accompanying a coach near here that was attacked. In all the confusion, we were separated. Might we impose on your master to stay the night?"

"Of course, come in and I'll fetch my master."

Madoc began to step into the house when he felt something tug at his cuirass. Thom had surreptitiously slipped his hand in, and kept him from following.

"Ah, I can... just wait here, I suppose," he said lamely.

"Alright," the maid said. "I'll be right back." She closed the door on them to save the heat.

"What is it?" Madoc asked Thom.

"First, don't give away your whole story right away; it's suspicious. Second, don't call the help `m'lady'. Third, don't use his name until he gives it to you, but don't hesitate to give your name, Hadrian. And don't let anyone see that ring."

They were back in position (and still being rained on) when Tybalt came to the door.

"Welcome, gentlemen! Come in, come in, don't stand out there all night!" Tybalt was a short man, 5'6" with reddish-brown hair and a well-kept beard. He had a slightly red face that had a permanent grin etched into it.

The two men entered the foyer as Tybalt turned to a young boy, saying, "See to this man's horse, now." The boy hitched up his collar against the downpour and Madoc watched him turn the horse around as the door closed.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Tybalt of Westhall, though I have lived here for many years. And who are you?"

"I am Hadrian. I thank you for your hospitality." Thank goodness, thought Madoc. That's one less thing to worry about.

Tybalt's eyes widened, but he rallied quickly. "Hadrian, Hadrian, where do I know that name?" He feigned forgetfulness. "Ah, you wouldn't happen to be from Janusport, would you?"

Amazing, thought Madoc, just as Thom said he's filling in the blanks himself. "As a matter of fact I am from Janusport originally."

"Why, you must be Owain's son! I know your father, a fine man, a fine man! I must say, I can see the resemblance."

Now Madoc's eyes widened. Did he look like Owain? Probably not, he guessed. He's just telling a safe lie. "I thank you. I'll be sure to tell him when next I see him." Thom stepped up to his and began to unbuckle his cuirass. Madoc raised his arms nonchalantly. "I'll need to set this somewhere to dry away from the heat."

"Certainly! You can leave it in one of the spare bedrooms, and you can stay here this dreadful night. Melydia!" The maid that had answered the door appeared again. "Guide this man to his master's room for the night."

The maid started down the hallway. Thom followed, but walking as slowly as he could. Madoc stared after him. Why...? Oh, the ring! The room was probably more than twenty feet away!

"Actually, I'd appreciate it if I could wash up."

"Fine, and after that we will dine together."

Madoc's jaw dropped. The hour was so late that Tybalt must have eaten already. Thom had been right again. "Now don't look so surprised, young sir. How could you expect any less?"

"I... I just cannot credit how fortunate I am to have found this place tonight."

Tybalt smiled. "Good, good. Just follow Melydia. I see that she's stopped so your man can catch up to her. She will lead you to your quarters."

Tybalt watched them until he thought Madoc was out of earshot, then he ran off as though he remembered the other half of his house was on fire and needed seeing to.

As they walked to their room, Madoc marvelled at Thom's ability to read their host, whom he couldn't have met before. He considered the amount of effort it must have taken. And he must have researched it all while he was readying himself for the jeweller's theft; he hadn't had much time before that. Madoc's opinion of Thom rose.

When they got to their room, the maid left them alone.

Thom went over to the door to listen. When he was sure the maid had gone, he began talking. "So far, so good, but you'll have to be a little faster on your feet, or we'll seem odd. Remember that if I'm made to be too far away, I'll be physically sick, which won't do us any good. If Tybalt has an ounce of decency he'll offer me dinner in the servant's quarters. That's always close to the kitchens, and they're usually close to the dining room. Let's hope it's not more than twenty feet total. If it is, I'll handle it. Now, if he doesn't offer me food, gently spur him in that direction, and he'll jump. Also, see if you can get a tour of the place; find that mirror-- Shh." Madoc kept still. Thom snatched the cuirass and leapt through a door to the side, into the guest's servant's room. Someone knocked on the main door. Madoc was caught off-guard when Melydia entered with fresh clothes for him.

"I hope you find these to your liking, sir." Madoc looked over the clothes. They were very fine and it looked like they would fit. He nodded and Melydia slipped out.

Thom returned without the armor. "That was close."

"How could you have heard her?"

"She was humming to herself in the corridor."

Madoc just shook his head.

"Don't tell me," Thom teased, "that I'm making an impression on you. Seeing me at work holds you in awe? You haven't seen me at work yet. Now get changed. Tybalt will be expecting you."

Madoc emerged from their room, wearing the red tunic and dark blue hose that had been provided for him. The tunic was a little small for him, but otherwise the outfit was fine. Soon thereafter Melydia reappeared. She led him back down the corridor, with Thom, still somewhat damp, following a respectful distance behind.

When they arrived at the dining room, Melydia seated Madoc. "Master Tybalt will be joining you shortly," she said as she fetched a plate of fruit and cheese from the sideboard. After he was settled, Melydia left, taking Thom with her. Thom had never even entered the room.

Madoc prepared himself to deal with his part of the plan. He took a morsel of cheese and chewed it nervously.

Thom followed Melydia the long way around the dining hall. "You must be hungry yourself," she was saying.

"Yes, neither of us ate this afternoon."

"Well, I'll take you belowstairs and we'll see what we can get you. What's your name?"

"Thom."

By now, they had circumvented the hall and they had arrived in the kitchens. Several women were working feverishly to prepare an impromptu meal for the surprise guest.

Melydia approached one of the older women. "Randa, is there any of that stew left over? Thom here hasn't eaten."

"This 'ould be one of the ones who've got my staff all in a lather trying to cook a second supper?" Randa looked Thom over. "I've a good mind to let 'im starve, the trouble they're causin'."

Thom looked sheepish. He thought the better of trying to argue with the head cook.

"It's in that pot over there. It's likely to've gone cold b'now, and he's lucky to get it. You'll have to serve 'im. I've got enough on my plate as 'tis."

"Thanks, Randa." Melydia got a bowl and ladled some thin stew into it. She found a spoon and handed them to Thom.

They headed downstairs to the servant's eating area and Thom noted to his dismay that they were headed the wrong way - away from the dining hall. His stomach was confirming what he'd figured from his measured paces: he was quickly leaving the twenty-foot radius. He looked back the other way down the corridor and saw the servant's bedrooms. He had to think fast.

He groaned and clutched his stomach, with more feeling than was truly necessary. He stumbled to one knee as Melydia turned around. He laid the bowl on the floor. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"I'll be fine. I've just got a sore stomach - agh! Is there somewhere I might lie down for a while?" This had better work out, he thought.

"Oh! I can put you in Jian's room for now. He'll be busy serving dinner." Melydia helped Thom to his feet with one hand, balanced the bowl in the other, and steered him in the direction of the dining hall. The queasiness from the ring's spell abated, but he kept up the act. As they passed the kitchen stairs again, he saw several servers and stewards taking platters out.

While he waited for Tybalt to appear, Madoc had time to examine the room he was occupying. He was seated at a table that could accommodate twelve people easily. He was one place down from the head of the table. Halfway down the wall behind him was a rather large fireplace. Along the other walls were sideboards and liquor cabinets, over which hung paintings and stuffed animal heads. There were also two tapestries fairly covering the walls behind the head and the foot of the table. The whole room was designed to display just how much wealth the merchant had amassed.

His host arrived with two servants behind him. Tybalt had changed clothes as well, wearing a shirt of finest silk, trimmed with gold threads, a velvet house jacket edged with fur and quite a lot of jewelry and rings.

The servants set about pouring wine and serving appetizers as Tybalt began to enthuse over his dinner guest.

"I'm glad to see that the clothes fit. They were specially tailored for me some years ago but," he patted his bulging stomach, "I have outgrown them since then." Madoc was taller than Tybalt by eight inches, and the tunic wasn't that small. What was he talking about?

Tybalt collected his now-filled goblet of wine. "A toast, to prosperity!"

"To prosperity!" Madoc echoed, and he sipped his wine, while Tybalt took a deep draught. Madoc didn't often drink, and he couldn't think of a single time that he had wanted and needed to drink less, but he didn't see any way of politely refusing.

Tybalt began a careful enquiry into Owain's prosperity. Madoc repeated the information and stories that Thom had drilled into his head all afternoon. Tybalt then began to detail his own recent successes. All were legal, and no mention of pirated art was made. Owain and Tybalt seemed to have similar business senses and Madoc began to think that a partnership between them might be a good idea. It was about this time that Madoc recognized their dinner conversation as more of a sales pitch. Thinking of it this way, Madoc found it harder to suffer through Tybalt's boasting.

Still, Madoc wondered as the courses of food progressed why Owain wouldn't have anything to do with this man. Thom had said not to suggest any unscrupulous activity on his "father's" part; Owain was known to be unflaggingly honest in his dealings. Perhaps Owain knew of Tybalt's shady dealings.

Whatever the reason, Madoc became bored with the merchant's preening. It's amazing, he thought. I've known the man for five minutes and I hate him already.

Thom did not have much reason to see the servant's quarters of the various homes he... visited. In general, there was not anything there to merit his interest.

Jian's room was rather small, furnished only with a table, a small wardrobe, a washbasin and a straw bed. Thom was sitting up on the bed, holding his stomach convincingly with one hand and feeding himself with the other.

Melydia sat at the foot of the bed. They chatted, getting to know each other.

When Thom had finished the bowl, Melydia told him, "That should go down all right. I'll just take your dishes back to the kitchens. You just rest here." She patted him on the shoulder as she passed. Thom winced.

Melydia noticed. "Are you sore?" She set down the bowl again. "Here, let me have a look." She began to lift up Thom's shirt, but Thom resisted. He was not quick enough, however, to prevent her from seeing the bruises that covered most of his upper body. "What's happened to you?" she asked, shocked.

Thom sought some appropriate lie. They'd been accompanying a coach. No help there. The highwaymen? No, they were armed; they wouldn't beat their victims. They'd cut them. Maybe his horse threw him and bolted....

Melydia saw the lie forming at his lips. "Did he do this to you?" she asked, pointing upwards.

Thom stared at her, unable to decide which way to answer.

Melydia took his silence for a yes. "Let me see," she said.

This time Thom did not interfere as Melydia pulled off his shirt. The bruises he'd received two days ago were now beginning to fade, turning odd colors as they healed. All business, Melydia gently pressed fingers into some of the nastier ones. "Nothing seems broken in there, but then you've probably figured that out by now. These look to be a few days old." It was the third time he'd heard this diagnosis, but he didn't share the information.

Melydia handed back his shirt. "Why do we have to take abuse like this from our masters? Consider the life we have. Following a man we hardly care for wherever he may go, and when he doesn't get his own way, he takes it out on us."

"You mean Tybalt..." Thom let the sentence hang in the air. This was news he hadn't heard.

"Well, no, but it's all the same thing, isn't it? A beating, verbal abuse or just mistreatment." Melydia lowered her voice and they both leaned in, conspiratorially. "Tybalt is an absolute pig."

Seeing Thom's bruises touched one of Melydia's nerves.

"Do you hunt, Hadrian?" Tybalt asked, his mouth half full of goose.

Sir Madoc hesitated after almost giving the wrong answer. He didn't, but for the purposes of their charade, Hadrian did. "Yes," he said belatedly. Madoc hated to lie, but at least this wasn't far from the truth. If Tybalt only knew who he was hunting tonight....

"We should go out tomorrow, if the weather permits and you have nothing pressing. I'm sure we could show each other a trick or two."

Madoc nearly panicked. The thought of spending a day out riding with this man, listening to him prattle would drive the knight mad, he was sure. Thom couldn't assure him that they would be able to do what they needed to do that night. He steeled himself and muttered, "That would be marvelous, Tybalt."

Tybalt took this opportunity to recount the tale behind each and every stuffed and mounted and godforsaken head on the walls. Looking at one wildcat, he saw what he imagined to be a rictus of horror. How many times had this poor animal been tortured by being forced to listen to this idiot jabber on about his own achievements? Madoc wanted to cut his own head off.

Madoc drained his glass. A steward stepped up from behind, asking sympathetically, "More wine?"

"Please."

Thom was also being treated to a long list of Tybalt's deeds, but he was in much better company, and much more interested in what he was hearing.

"Now my sister may not be able to count," Melydia continued, "but I can, and I tell you Tybalt is the father. I told him as much."

Thom was surprised. "And he still keeps you here?"

"I'm too useful around here to be dismissed so easily. If I left, this whole house would fall down around his ears. Except maybe the kitchens," she said grudgingly. "But my dear sister Tilda he sent to our mother because she was pregnant. His own fault, but he'll not take the responsibility! He doesn't even want to see his own son, the bastard, and I'm not referring to little Wynn either."

"So why do you stay if he's so awful?"

"Why do you?" she countered. Thom didn't know how to answer that. He hadn't gotten accustomed to being a beaten servant. "Besides," she went on, "I'm going to get him to help care for my nephew. If I leave, there won't be anyone here who'll dare to keep the pressure on him."

Thom stroked his chin. "You say you have no proof that Tybalt is the father? Nothing you could go to the authorities with?"

"They wouldn't listen if I had. Tybalt's too rich to be--"

"Yes, yes," Thom interrupted, forestalling another tirade, "and you don't have any dutiful loyalty to the man?"

"I'd be roasting his entrails on a spit if I thought I could get away with it," she said with some pride.

"Then I think we can be of great help to each other." Thom was grinning like a fox.

"But one of my finest treasures should interest you particularly, my young friend." Tybalt had his arm possessively around Sir Madoc's shoulder, leading him about the room after their meal. He was gesturing as he spoke with his snifter of postprandial brandy, but never spilling a drop. The knight had wisely cut himself off, but he was still feeling some effects. "You're a charming, handsome young man. You must be popular with the maidens, no?"

Madoc nodded, not sure what Tybalt was driving at. Some poor unfortunate girl's head, stuffed and mounted...?

"What do you see over there, Hadrian?" Tybalt had manoeuvred them around to the side of the room across the table from the fireplace.

Above the mantlepiece there hung a large painting in a gilt frame, as wide as Madoc was tall. It was nothing more than a landscape, and nothing worth its place over the hearth. But it was to this that Tybalt was directing Madoc's attention.

"I see a bright, sunny countryside," Madoc said. He hoped he wasn't supposed to notice the gold frame.

"Yes, but not in a moment. Have you seen your reflection in a silver or brass mirror?"

"Yes, but--" Madoc started, before his mind latched onto that last word. Mirror?

"But the reflection if often unclear and distorted. You have no idea what all those maidens really see in a handsome lad like you."

Please no, Madoc thought. This can't be what I think it is. This whole idiotic escapade will be for naught. Please let it be anything but that.

"Behold, Hadrian!" Two servants, standing on both sides of the fireplace, removed the canvas from in front of the glass behind. Madoc saw two men, one brimming with pride with his arm around the shoulder of the other, who had an expression of fascination and horror as he stared at the huge item he was supposed to steal.

When dinner was over, Thom was rushed back to their quarters so that he could prepare for his "master's" arrival. He used the time to think, or to try to think despite the nausea.

When Madoc finally arrived, he thought he had some idea where to start.

Madoc didn't look well. "Was dinner so bad as that?" Thom asked, only half-joking.

"We're finished. There is no way to get the mirror."

"You found it then? Good! Where is it?"

Madoc proceeded to describe the location and the size of their target, while not forgetting to describe his own horrible evening. "Even if we can manage to get something that large and heavy out of the house, Fleetfire could never carry it and us to Cairncross!"

"Then it is good fortune that while you were suffering through with Tybalt, I was winning us an accomplice."

"Accomplice?" he asked suspiciously.

"Willing assistant to the High Guard, we'll call her then." Thom told the knight about Melydia and her reasons for wanting to help. "We'll be talking to her later tonight. We'll have to find out if she can get a cart. That should solve our travelling trouble."

"But what about getting the flaming thing out to the cart?!"

"Keep your voice down," Thom said in a stage whisper. "I've done something similar before, and with Melydia's help I know how the guards patrol the manse, and I should be able to get us around them. It's just as well there are two of us to carry the prize then."

"I wish you would stop talking about all of this that way. This is not a theft."

"Must you spoil this for me? This will be my final foray. After tonight I will never again feel the thrill of what it is I do." Madoc grimaced. "I will spend the rest of my days in Dunstan's cells. You will continue to have your adventures. Give me tonight, please."

Madoc grimaced. He wasn't sure what to say. If he said yes, it would be as though he approved of this scheme. He wasn't completely sure the whole of it was inside the law, particularly when it came to allowing Magister Eleazar to use the evidence for his spell before turning it over. But he saw the pleading in Thom's eyes. This he could not understand. How could this man long to do such immoral acts? How could he like to steal?

Madoc knew he was in trouble. He had allowed himself to get too close. He should not feel any temptation to indulge this "final foray." He should remind him that he was doing this in the service of the King, that this was a serious matter.

He said nothing about it. But he would ask later what Thom meant.

"What are we to do now?" he said quietly.

Thom smiled. "We wait. We wait until everyone has gone to bed. Then we examine the dining room. I need to find out if the mirror has any traps on it. Then we figure out how to remove it from here. And then we bring Melydia in."

"How long must we wait?"

"It's fairly late. You say that Tybalt wants to take you to hunt on the morrow? He'll be retiring early then. He's the only one we need worry about. If we wait for the guards to leave, we'll wait until forever. So we have... half an hour to kill?" Thom smiled again and took off his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Madoc asked, eyes wide.

"What else do you suggest we do?"

"Here?! Now?!"

"Just the time, I think. You're too nervous. You'll be no good to me if you're ready to jump at your shadow. You must keep yourself in check the whole time. Stay calm. Keep control. Your nerves must be as steel. But right now you're as tense as a bowstring."

Madoc was forced to admit Thom was right. He was apprehensive about the night's activities. Excited, too. In several senses of the word. He removed his borrowed tunic. Thom had already gone to the bed and taken off his leggings and boots.

Thom lay there, admiring the body of the man before him. Barechested and now wearing his customary hose, if borrowed, which displayed his thigh muscles perfectly. Every contour was hugged by the material. His stomach tapered to the point where, without a belt, the hose were in peril of slipping down. His billowy tunics fairly hid his strong, thick arms.

Thom took all of this in in a brief instant.

He wondered how in the world it had come to this, that he should be captured so thoroughly by this man. He hadn't even seriously considered escape in days. He wanted to stay with, of all people, one of the king's own knights! When he was handed over to the gaoler, his punishment would not be imprisonment; he had lived in solitude much of his life. It would be the separation from Madoc that would finally break him. Best to enjoy what time he had.

Madoc was naked. His proud erection pointed the way to the bed. In a rare show of playfulness, he leapt at Thom, tackling him while he was still lost in thought. They rolled over on the wide bed, disturbing the sheets. Thom pushed on Madoc's shoulders, trying to get the upper hand but Madoc braced against the bed and lifted Thom a few inches and tossed him aside. Thom landed on his back and Madoc scrambled to straddle him, sitting on his stomach. He was grinning triumphantly.

Thom pushed up on Madoc's knees, tipping him backwards on the bed. Thom slid out from underneath him while the knight recovered his balance. The thief lay down on top of the knight and held down his arms.

They were both breathing heavily. Thom reached over and kissed Madoc's chest, near the shoulder. He switched from lips to tongue and licked his way to Madoc's raised nipple. The knight laid his head down and abandoned any thoughts of struggle. He closed his eyes to better concentrate on what he could feel. Thom was still working on his left nipple, and now he gripped it with his teeth, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to excite. Madoc moaned breathily.

Thom moved down Madoc's chest, licking, tasting, sampling. He could taste the salty sweat of his captor. Thom held the other man's body in his hands, just at the sides, revelling in the heat of his skin as though it were from the sun. As he backed down the knight's body, circling the abdominal muscles with his tongue, Madoc groaned contentedly. Thom looked up and tapped him on the chest. Madoc looked up. Thom held his finger up in front of his lips. Madoc nodded and lay back down again.

Thom gave up on the stomach and moved straight to the cock.

Thom looked at Madoc's privates. The hair down here was very sparse. When Thom took one of his balls into his mouth, Madoc was surprised. Thom sucked on it and stroked it with his tongue. Madoc squirmed on the bed, lost in pleasure. Thom's nose brushed past the very stiff shaft of Madoc's member occasionally as he mouthed the knight's ball. He shifted over and gave the other one similar treatment.

Madoc was in thrall. The sensations were so wonderful, his arms and legs moved of their own accord, not sure what to do. A deep grunt escaped from his throat.

Thom stopped and glared at Madoc, who looked sheepish. Thom didn't want to stop, but if he couldn't keep quiet.... The thief got an inspiration.

He untied and removed his smallclothes, which he hadn't bothered to touch until now. His rigid cock bobbed in the air. He crawled up beside a puzzled Madoc, and turned around. He clambered across Madoc's body and began to suck on Madoc's dick. Madoc himself was faced with Thom's throbbing pole, and he got the idea. If his mouth was busy....

He sat up slightly and accepted his prisoner's penis into his mouth. >From there he took his cues from Thom. Everything Thom did, he did. If he closed his eyes, he got the uncanny feeling he was sucking himself off.

Thom was getting very hot. He was moving up and down on Madoc's cock when the knight joined in. Madoc aimed to time his own bobbing in rhythm with Thom's. Thom had to keep to a slower pace so that Madoc could get the timing right, but the steady sucking was quite erotic.

Thom moved his tongue in a long, slow arc around the head of Madoc's manhood, dragging the tip around the underside of the head, beginning near his slit. The knight's copycat motion on Thom's pecker had to stop when Thom touched the very sensitive side of Madoc's dick. Madoc shuddered from the stimulation and the acts of sucking and being sucked took more concentration to coordinate than he could spare.

Thom felt a shiver from Madoc's body below him. Once they'd gone all the way around the head once, Thom went back to sucking on Madoc as he had before. He didn't think he could take that twice and not blow.

Soon he had to pull off Madoc just long enough to whisper, "I'm close." He then dove back onto Madoc's pecker taking it to the hilt. The head of it was in his throat, and Thom reserved part of his mind for squelching his gag reflex. Madoc also strove to cram all of the thief's member into his mouth. He contracted his throat muscles and sent Thom past the brink. He whimpered quietly and began to fuck Madoc's face as he came. Madoc began to spew his load a few seconds later.

When it was over, Thom slumped, sated, on Madoc's body, their cocks still in each other's mouths. He turned himself around, so he was head- to-head with Madoc. Both men were breathing heavily and smiling. Thom reached over and grabbed Madoc about the chest, holding him. Madoc draped his arm around Thom's head and shoulder.

"I-- I want to thank you," Madoc said softly. Thom looked up into his face. "I've never had anything like this...." Words failed him.

"I know. You said," Thom began. "You didn't think that it was right between two men, but--"

"No, no, not that." He licked his lips. "I've bedded women before. Ones that I've loved, or that I thought I did. But I've never had the feeling that they loved me as well. They weren't right for me somehow. There were ones that I found out were with me only because I was in the High Guard. Obviously this isn't the case with you." He paused. "Is it?"

"Do you mean, am I doing this to try to get you to let me go?" he asked, incredulous. "You're far too bound to your duty for that." He lay his head on Madoc's arm. "You'll still turn me in, no matter what I may do. You have to." He clutched Madoc close. `And then I'll never see you again,' he thought.

Madoc said nothing, even when he felt a wetness on his chest near Thom's eyes. Tears briefly came to Madoc's eyes too, but he willed them away. Instead he just stroked Thom's back, comforting him. The dog trainer's ring glinted in the dim light.

The corridor was lit only by a few torches. The guards were nowhere to be seen. Thom stepped out into the passageway, and Madoc followed. Madoc's stomach was in knots. He was starting to sweat. They slipped down toward the servants' stairs. Melydia had told Thom that the servants' quarters were rarely patrolled. They crept past all the rooms and emerged once more in the kitchen.

Thom peeked through the door connecting the kitchens to the dining hall. He could hear no guards nearby. He passed through the doorway, and Madoc followed.

He strode quickly to the fireplace. The servants hadn't bothered to replace the painting that had covered the glass all through dinner.

Madoc wasn't completely sure what Thom was searching for. He had taken a candle from their rooms and lit it, despite the torches that were already in the room burning away. He pulled the mirror slightly away from the wall and peered behind it. He looked for a moment, then let the mirror drop back to the wall. It hadn't moved more than an inch. Madoc's eyes kept straying to the main door, waiting for someone to open it.

Thom blew out the candle, pocketed it, and moved over to the door that led to the front hall. He opened it slightly, then pulled it to again. He signalled to Madoc that they were leaving. Madoc was confused, but he followed without comment.

They went back through the kitchens and past the servants' quarters and toward the stairs to the second floor. When he reached the top of the stairs, Thom removed his boots and motioned for Madoc to do the same. Their room had been on the main floor, where there was less trouble about being heard. Upstairs there were more guards around. Thom tried the first door on his left. It was locked. He pulled his picks from his pocket and began to tease it open.

Madoc watched as Thom worked. He supposed he should be keeping an eye for the guards, but Thom's activities were fascinating to him. For obvious reasons, he'd never had the chance to see how a thief picked a lock up close. Thom didn't use his eyes, as Madoc assumed he would, but worked by hearing and by feel. When Madoc asked about it later, Thom told him that it was as though the picks were extensions of his own fingers. He was extremely sensitive to their movements. He had the door open in less than a minute.

The room they had broken into was a bedroom. Thom smiled in the darkness. He strode directly to the garderobe. Inside was a pair of boards with a circular hole sawn in between them. The hole was exposed to the outside breezy air, and the smell wafting up left little question as to what the garderobe was for. In what little light came in through the closet, Thom presented this find like a fine piece of art; Madoc grimaced at the foul odor.

"This is it," Thom whispered. "This is how we're getting the mirror out of the house."

Madoc looked at the hole. "It won't fit." Even with the boards removed, the closet was only three feet on a side. The mirror was four feet by six.

Thom was still grinning. "It'll fit."

They left the bedroom. Madoc started toward the stairs, but Thom stayed behind to relock the door with his picks. Madoc looked around. There weren't any guards about, but one could arrive at any moment. Madoc was started to panic. He wasn't taking this well.

He was almost ready to scream from the tension and frustration when Thom straightened up and joined Madoc at the stairs. Thom hadn't even been as long locking the door as unlocking it, but it seemed like forever. Madoc glared at Thom, but Thom ignored him.

They put their boots back on, and when they got back down the stairs they went straight back to their rooms.

As soon as the door was shut, Madoc turned on Thom. "Are you out of your mind?! Why did we go creeping around this place when we didn't do anything?"

"Keep your voice down. We got plenty done. Well, I did. You had to tag along."

"What did you do?"

"I found out what defenses there are on the mirror, on the door to the room, and I verified that I could get the mirror out of the house."

"But you barely looked at them."

"Yes, but I heard plenty. Whoever did the security on this place likes springlocks. A lot. There's one on the mirror and another on the door. Whoever he is, he was never a thief."

Madoc looked perplexed.

"If I chose to, I could go into legitimate business as a locksmith. Think about it: who knows the things better than me? I know a few locksmiths who were once thieves. It's just the natural way to go."

Madoc looked astonished, but pressed on. "What did you find out?"

"The mirror is trapped. There's a small peg behind it that is attached to a spring. The weight of the mirror is keeping the spring contracted. If someone moves the mirror, the peg pops out and an alarm goes off.

"The door is slightly different. There's a string across the top of the door tied to a key. The key is inside the stone of the wall, and it's attached to another spring. The key is sitting in a slot in the stone. If some unsuspecting dolt opens the door, the string pulls the key, the key falls out of its slot and into a hole, the spring stretches and--"

"The alarm goes off," Madoc finished.

"Right. The nice part about springlocks is that they're hard to detect. Take that mirror, for example, and we will. The only way to know that there's a springlock behind it is to remove the mirror and look."

"But if you remove the mirror, the trap is triggered, and...."

"And now you see why springlocks are so diabolical. On the other hand, any thief who thinks to look for them, and knows how, can find them with no trouble."

"Do you know how you're going to get around them?"

"I think so," Thom said, smirking. "With Melydia's help, we can get clear easy."

"I can think of a way around the door lock. Just cut the string."

"That would work, but if the locksmith knows his craft, there'll be a long metal pin or hook on the side of the door that opens. You can't cut it, and if you do, the pin acts as a weight pulling the alarm anyway." Thom smiled. "You want to know how we're going to get around that lock?"

"Yes."

"We won't use that door."

"Alright," Madoc said uncertainly. "What about locking that damn door upstairs? I still don't see the point of that."

Thom stared at him. "Have you ever done any work as an ordinary guard, a watchman?"

"Yes, of course."

"If you found a door unlocked on your patrol that you knew should be locked, and either you or someone else had already checked it and found it locked, what would you think?"

"That something was wrong." Madoc was nodding with sudden understanding.

"Right. In all that we did just now, the guards would have a hard time figuring out that someone had been through who shouldn't have been. They'll be patrolling as though it's just another boring night."

"I should trust you in this manner. You have the experience. What do we do now?"

"It's time to talk to Melydia."

"So you're a member of the King's High Guard."

"That is correct, m'lady."

"And you are the Dark Rogue."

"That I am."

Melydia looked to the pair of them, sitting on her bed, asking her to help conspire against her employer. By stealing a mirror.

"And you expect me to believe this?" she asked.

"You have seen my tabard, m'lady. That is proof of who I am," Sir Madoc said. They'd had to go out to the stable to fetch it.

"From what I have heard of the Dark Rogue's talents, if he wanted to come by one of Dunstan's tabards, he would not have much trouble doing it."

"But then why would I admit to who I am?" Thom reasoned. "I could have told you that I was another High Guardsman and found another tabard. Or I could have gone alone."

"To allow me to believe your story more easily. You must admit, even two Guardsmen coming to do this is not to be believed."

Thom grabbed Madoc's hand. "Do you recognize this ring?"

She peered at it, still turned upside-down on Madoc's finger. "No. It's not one of Tybalt's, is it?"

"It's a dog trainer's ring," Sir Madoc said. "I'm using it to keep Th-- the Dark Rogue, here, from escaping."

Melydia just raised an eyebrow. "If this is the best you two can do, you can just leave now."

Madoc stood up. "Meliddy m'ladia - m'lady Melydia, I beseech you, I wish only that justice be done. We have reason to believe that Tybalt has pirated a number of art objects, and that they are here. If I can get one of them to my superiors, they will have the evidence they need to apprehend him. On behalf of your country, please aid us."

"Out now or I call for the guards."

Sir Madoc began his next speech with his hands out in front of him just as Melydia stepped past him to open the door. His hand brushed against her breasts, completely innocently.

She just pushed by and turned back to face him with her hand on the knob. She had opened her mouth to speak when she saw Madoc's horrified face. He was staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at her, jaw bobbing up and down soundlessly. His hands were still out. Madoc noticed them and quickly hid them behind his back.

"I am so terribly sorry, m'lady!" By now he was blushing so much, he fairly glowed. "Please forgive me! I didn't intend to--" Anything further he had to say was blocked in his throat.

Melydia was dumbfounded. She watched the knight's display, not believing what she saw. "By the gods, you just might be what you say you are. I've never seen anyone get so worked up over a little thing like that. Think nothing of it, Sir Madoc." Madoc grinned boyishly, but kept his eyes downcast.

He's going to be useless for the next five minutes, Thom thought.

"I can vouch for the fact that Tybalt didn't come by that mirror, or any of a number of other things by the most honorable of methods, but how is it that you are gathering your evidence in such a clandestine way?"

"That's my influence," Thom said. "Madoc, Sir Madoc, that is, captured me as I told you. Since his mission here is rather urgent, I am obliged to come along. The mirror will not only be evidence against Tybalt, but an ingredient in the cure for a plague."

"In Cairncross!" Melydia exclaimed. "My sister and my mother live near there! And my new nephew Wynn."

"That's the one."

"So `Hadrian' here didn't beat you... or did he?" Madoc turned around with another horrified expression, nearly identical to the first one.

"No, no, I got these bruises while saving his life."

"Saving his life?" Melydia looked from Thom, who nodded, to Madoc, who by now looked merely apologetic. "Hmm." There's something odd about these two, she thought, but I still believe them. "What do you need of me?"

Thom carried a bucket of water. Madoc carried a rope. With just these items, they planned to spirit the mirror away.

They passed through the kitchen from Melydia's room, and into the dining room.

Thom put down the bucket next to the andirons by the hearth. With his left hand he slowly reached under the mirror and found the peg for the springlock. He pushed down on it as hard as he could and nodded to Madoc.

As quietly as possible, the knight took down the mirror and laid it on the bare table. He picked up the bucket and hung it from the hook that had supported the mirror.

Madoc, knowing what was about to happen next, looked to Thom for reassurance. Thom signalled him to get on with it.

Madoc let the bucket drop and Thom pulled his hand away, but not before his fingers were smashed between wood and stone.

The knight had offered to push the peg, but Thom had argued that he, Madoc, wouldn't be able to find the peg without tripping the alarm. "Besides, it'll be my bad hand, not that it'll matter after tonight," he added bitterly.

Thom paced the floor, silently cursing and shaking his hand futilely, but the alarm was not sounding.

While he was sucking his fingers, Thom quickly looked toward the door to the kitchen. Madoc was about to ask what it was when he heard a soft clang from the kitchen. There was a guard in there.

Madoc's face fell. They had discussed the possibility that a guard might stop into the kitchens for something to eat. Madoc dreaded the course of action he would have to take, but secretly Thom was excited. The thrill of pursuit! He kept his excitement to himself, though, so Madoc wouldn't get upset.

They had gone without their boots just in case this should happen. Quietly they pulled out two of the chairs from the table and tucked the large mirror underneath the table, resting on the seats of the chairs. They replaced the first two chairs so nothing would look amiss.

Madoc lay down on the floor on the far side of the table from the doors. When he saw that Madoc was ready, Thom crept over to the main door, with its trap. He listened at the door.

Madoc's heart was beating in his throat. His breathing was labored. He was hoping that Thom would just come back, collect him, and they would just give up for the night. He'd be forced to go hunting with Tybalt on the morrow, but it would be a small price.

Thom heard a second guard approach from the hinged side of the main door. Just what he was waiting for.

He kicked the door open as hard as he could.

The door swung open toward the guard and the pin flew out of its bracket.

Thom sprinted down the side of the long table.

The door crashed into the guard, blocking his view of the hallway. The pin dragged the key out of its slot at high speed.

Thom rounded the corner of the table.

The key tinked against the inside of the wall and fell. The spring sproinged. A loud bell began to sound. The guard behind the main door came to the conclusion that something was afoot. He assumed a thief had just dashed through the door, and gave chase.

Thom threw himself to the floor next to Madoc.

The guard in the kitchen came in. He saw the bucket on the wall where the mirror ought to have been, and sprinted through the still-swinging main door.

Thom and Madoc stood up, pulled out the chairs and retrieved the mirror. They walked into the kitchen with it and down the stairs.

The nice thing about the corridor through the servants' quarters was that it was supposed to be so unobtrusive that it was out of everyone's way in getting from point to point in the house.

The alarm was still ringing loudly, but only one maid looked out into the hallway. She screamed and ducked back inside her room.

The men climbed two flights of stairs without incident. Madoc rested the heavy mirror on his foot while Thom picked the lock to the bedroom they had explored before. Thom finished and they piled inside, closing the door behind them.

Madoc tied the rope securely around the mirror, leaving plenty of slack. Meanwhile, Thom prized up the boards in the garderobe.

Madoc wished that damned bell would shut up. He hefted the mirror and carried it to the closet. It was easily a foot too wide to go in. Madoc was ready to scream.

Thom grabbed the mirror away and rolled his eyes. He wedged it into the hole on the diagonal. With the extra thickness of rope the sides, the mirror only just fit down through the space. Thom had to push a little on the mirror, when it suddenly gave and fell through. Thom almost fell in after it when the mirror finally got free. Fortunately Madoc had had the presence of mind to hold onto the slack of the rope. He was braced and kept the mirror from falling all the way through to the ground. Thank the gods it hadn't smashed on the wall.

Leaning over the hole, Thom could see the cart that Melydia had set up for them. He could also see their boots and Madoc's clothes waiting for them. Melydia waved. It seemed the rain had stopped again.

Thom tapped Madoc's arm and pointed. The knight nodded. He let the mirror swing from side to side. To do this without risking a crash, he had to lean over the hole, and the smell was all but unbearable. Slowly the mirror descended until Melydia could catch it, even if it was too heavy for her to lift. Madoc quickly let out the rest of the rope so that the mirror touched down safely on the cart. He dropped the rope and left it to Melydia to gather it up.

Madoc grinned idiotically. They'd done it! They'd actually done it. Now they just had to get out. The garderobe was out, for obvious reasons.

The knight and the thief started toward the stairs, but Thom heard someone climbing them. He grabbed Madoc by the tunic and pulled him down the hall. Fortunately, Tybalt had dashed out of his own room and carelessly left the door unlocked. Thom dragged Madoc in there. He cast about for a good hiding place.

When the guards searched the floor, they discovered the bedroom door unlocked and the garderobe torn up. Melydia had already left for the stables as instructed.

They checked the other doors, and found only Tybalt's room open. They searched it thoroughly.

Thom and Madoc hung from the stonework just outside the window. (Tybalt's room could have a window since it was on the opposite side of the manse from the middens.) Madoc's foot slipped once. He regained his footing and made sure he never lost it again. His heart was racing, his mind was reeling, his feet were freezing from being pressed against cold stone, his fingers were beginning to ache. He was also more aware of every sight, every sound, every sensation in his body. Even through the shuttered window he could hear the guards search. He could feel the cool summer wind play among the folds in his tunic. He could see the pits and craters on the Chaser moon through the receding clouds. He could hear the lockpicks tumble from Thom's pocket and then hit the ground below. Madoc gulped.

Thom looked down, but didn't appear upset. He was probably thinking that he wouldn't be needing them anyway. It was just as well that he'd lost them. That part of his life was over if Madoc had anything to do with it. Even so, he couldn't help but feel sorry for Thom.

They heard the door to Tybalt's room close. Thom opened the shutters with one hand. Madoc entered first, since he was losing his grip. Madoc listened at the door while Thom climbed in. Nothing stirred. Thom smirked and turned the handle. The door did not open. The guards had locked it when they left. Madoc thought he would go mad. He began to search the room, looking for the key.

Now Thom looked pained about having lost his picks out the window. It wouldn't be long before the guards discovered Melydia in the stable. They had to hurry. Thom tapped Madoc on the shoulder and signalled him to stop looking.

This was it. The one thing that Thom had left that would give him a chance of being free even after King Dunstan locked him up, and now he had to sacrifice it. He began to take off his breeches.

Madoc watched as Thom undressed. He couldn't believe it. Voicelessly, Madoc mouthed, "NOW!?!" If he had used his voice, he could have roused the dead. As it was Madoc's face just turned purple.

Thom just scowled at him and undid his smallclothes. He reached behind himself and pushed a little.

Madoc was speechless. This was even weirder than wanting to have sex at a time like this.

Thom extracted the slender metal tube he kept for emergencies from his rectum. He had been in situations before where he was forced with the choice of killing a person or be captured. He chose capture every time. Even in jail, with his picks confiscated, he still had an ace up his sleeve, as it were. It meant taking extra care with hygiene, but it was worth it.

Now this would be taken from him too. When he went to the gaol, there would be no escape. But what else could he do?

He took the casing off his spare pick and put his pants back on. He unlocked the door and put the pick in his pocket. "Let's go," he whispered. Madoc followed wordlessly.

After that, there were no further problems. Thom and Madoc mounted Fleetfire and Melydia drove the cart away in the night.

Once they were well and clear of the manse, Madoc whooped at the top of his lungs. The adrenalin was still flowing, and relief from the fear and frustration washed over him. This was the high that Thom must have lived for. Madoc wanted to sing, or to dance, or to fly.

He urged Fleetfire into a gallop. Thom started to fall off, so he grabbed Madoc about the stomach and hung on. The thief pulled his body in close to Madoc. The knight could feel Thom's hardened manhood rubbing against his lower back and ass as the horse jostled them.

Thom leaned forward and said in Madoc's ear, "Now you know. You must have wondered why I kept on doing what I did. This is why. Remember this feeling, Sir Madoc. Neither you nor I will ever feel like this again."

Madoc wished that Melydia wasn't with them. He wanted to enjoy this feeling completely with Thom.

Instead he had to content himself with riding. Fleetfire was charging ahead, his hooves pounding the well-packed earth of the road. Every jolt sent vibrations through Madoc's body. Wind rushed past the knight's face and lightly ruffled his hair. As he leaned over the neck of the animal, he heard his breathing, steady and strong. Thom held on tight from behind and Madoc could feel the heat from him across his back. Madoc could not remember when he felt more free.

Thom reached up to Madoc's ear again to ask, "Are we not going to wait for Melydia?"

Madoc slowed the horse to a stop and turned him around to move at a slow trot back up the road to meet with the maid, the cart and the mirror.

"Sorry, Thom," he said, "I got carried away."

"I understand. I'm glad you can enjoy tonight."

When they finally caught up to her, Madoc apologized to Melydia, and they were off again.

They hid out until morning. Thom hardly spoke until they reached Cairncross.

When the three of them delivered the mirror that day, Eleazar was not as thrilled as he should have been.

"How could you be so foolish? This is far too large!" The wizard was furious. "Well, there's an easy way to fix that!" He picked up a hammer.

Madoc grabbed the old man's arm. The greybeard looked at the knight, fire flashing in his eyes. "I cannot allow you to do that. This mirror is not your property. It was stolen by a local merchant and must be returned to its rightful owner. You are only being allowed to borrow it by special dispensation."

To Thom it appeared that Eleazar was about to say something about that, but he backed down. "Fine, then. Leave me to figure out how to deal with this." Eleazar turned his back on them to consult his library.

Madoc looked at his companions, and they left the shack.

Outside, Melydia took her place in the driver's seat of the cart.

"I've been meaning to ask," Thom said, "how you learned to drive a cart so well."

"I used to do it all the time on the family farm. It was eight years before my little brother was old enough to do it. I'm quite surprised I still remember how."

"The cart!" Madoc suddenly cried. "Tybalt will miss it! And it does have to be returned. Tybalt will suspect something when Melydia returns."

"It's alright, goodknight. Tybalt will hardly notice that I'm gone, and he'll miss the cart less. Such details are beneath him," she said wryly. "All you need to worry about is the stablemaster. And he happens to be my betrothed. I'll explain it all to him. He'll understand." Of that, Thom had little doubt. Melydia was very capable.

"Where will you be when Tybalt goes to trial?"

"You'll find me at my family's farm. I'll not be staying under Tybalt's roof another day. Just ask anyone in Cairncross where the Coopersmith farmstead is. I'll be off now. Good luck with your quest."

"Thank you, m'lady, for your help," Sir Madoc said.

"Wait one moment," Thom said. He climbed up on the seat next to Melydia. "I have something for you," he said, his voice low. From his pocket he produced a gold ruby bracelet he'd picked up from Tybalt's room while Madoc had been trying to open the door. Thom identified it as one of the other pieces that Tybalt obtained in his raid. "Take this to a barber in Karelia named Rowan. He'll get you a good price for it. For little Wynn, of course." He winked.

"Thank you, Thom. That is your real name, isn't it?"

"Yes, but how...?"

"Your friend, the knight, let it slip while you were trying to convince me of who you are. I think there is something more going on between you two. You really are the Dark Rogue as well, aren't you?" Thom nodded. "I don't understand what you two feel for each other, but I hope it works for you two. You have a good heart."

"Thank you. I will probably never see you again, so... I wish you happiness. Goodbye." He stepped down from the cart.

Melydia waved as she coaxed the horses back toward home.

"What was that about?" Madoc asked.

"Oh, just something we were discussing while you were dining with Tybalt." Madoc looked skeptical. "Where shall we go now?"

Madoc just shook his head. "I thought we might look for the horsephlox next. We'll find them in the mountains."

They mounted and rode off.

While they rode, Madoc said, "You weren't going to tell me about the extra lockpick you had concealed, were you?"

"No, I wasn't," Thom mumbled.

"That's why you've never been caught and stayed locked up, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"I'll have to confiscate it when I turn you in."

"Yes, Sir Madoc, I know," Thom said, irritated.

Madoc wanted to say that he didn't want to have to do it, but that wouldn't have been true. The Dark Rogue was a thief, and he did not want him to go free. The problem was that the Dark Rogue was also Thom. He wished there was some way to separate them.

"I'm sorry," he said in a whisper that was carried away on the wind. And now he cried, silently.