"What are you doing?" Azakar asked Keritanima curiously.
It was the day after the Princess dressed down her father in his throne room. There had been no servants or messengers, leaving her in her rooms to supposedly sweat out her impending punishment. A group of guards had, however, come in and removed all her jewelry, all her dresses, and all her money. The rooms were a bit emptier now, especially the closet, but that didn't bother her in the slightest. All she had left were the dresses Miranda made for her on the journey to Wikuna, but they were good enough.
There had been a time when looking good had been almost obsessively important to her. Granted, she did look good in the well-made dresses supplied by Miranda, but they were not the silks and satins, brocade and velvet that had usually graced her form. She realized it after they came and took all her dresses away, that she didn't miss them in the slightest. A house-sized closet full of rows and rows of beautiful gowns, and she had chosen the morning before to wear the simple brown dress that Miranda had made for her. She guessed that her time with her brother and sister had had a much more significant impact on her than she first believed. She did look good in Miranda's dresses, and she discovered that that was good enough for her.
But they were gone now. She didn't miss them, but it did free up a great deal more room in the apartments. They had been very thorough in their search of her rooms for gold and valuables, which meant that they had only found about half of what she really had on hand. The problem they had was that they still remembered Keritanima the Brat. They didn't look any further than her rooms, and they didn't find half of her fortune there. Keritanima had had years to build a complex web of spies, informants, and assassins, and that took vast amounts of gold. Usually, her allowance, and the money she could steal from the treasury with her father's seal and a key to the treasury was enough to cover her expenses. But sometimes, for a rush job or something serious, she needed more than she could easily obtain without having to sell off all the dresses and jewels that the Brat fancied. To cover the cost of those occasional crises, Keritanima had become something of a phantom businesswoman. Under the name Lizelle, Keritanima owned a very large, very profitable trading company. It was chaired by a Wikuni that ran it for her, yet had no idea by whom he was employed. Lizelle Sailmender was an imaginary person, but in Wikuni records, she seemed as real as a real person. She had a large file in the Hall of Records as the owner of substantial property in the capital city. She was a thriving businesswoman with a net worth rivalling some smaller noble houses, and every year she paid large sums in taxes. Lizelle wasn't a noblewoman, so there was no tax breaks for her business. Were she a real person, she'd probably grumble about that endlessly. She even had a couple of minor legal infractions, one for public drunkenness and another for assault on another Wikuni businessman during a meeting, some ten years ago. They were faked, but they gave the imaginary Lizelle more color, more believability.
Her father had no idea that Lizelle was actually Keritanima. Nobody did, for that matter. Her father had no inkling how much money Keritanima really had, though as smart as he was, he should certainly suspect that she had some kind of legitimate business to fund her spy operation. Provided, of course, that he didn't know that she had a copy of his seal and a key to the treasury which allowed her to simply proocure the money she needed. The expenses she incurred were usually just a bit more than the combined total of her allowance plus what she could manage to steal from the treasury without raising suspicion. But sometimes she needed a bit of extra cash, and Lizelle's deep pockets were there to provide her with a loan. Because she didn't often touch the money of her trading business, she had amassed a staggering amount in the six years she had been dabbling in commerce. She forgot about it from time to time, because her agent, a badger Wikuni by the name of Rallix, was an exceptionally gifted merchant and organizer. It was his brilliance that made Lizelle's business so successful. All she had to do was wander in from time to time in a disguise and look over the books, to make sure Rallix didn't think Lizelle dropped off the face of Sennadar.
Rallix had been something of a godsend. She started Lizelle and her business with small ideals, to create a cash fund for emergencies, but not a huge amount. She was too busy to be a merchant, so she didn't really expect the business to be more than a small-time affair. She had hired Rallix to act as her agent, and the badger had taken the initial investment and quadrupled it in the first six months. He was a brilliant merchant, with a nose for what was valuable in what part of the world, and a penchant for getting the better of anyone in a trade. He turned her small trading company into a huge enterprise, with six clippers and two rakers, warehouses and property, and employing nearly five hundred Wikuni and humans on three continents.
Rallix and the Twenty Seas Trading Company were going to be very important to her now.
Even without her dresses and jewels, Keritanima felt that she could impress the nobility of Wikuna. They didn't see the dresses and the jewels anymore anyway. The looks on their faces in the throne room told her that now they saw Keritanima, not the Brat, and it was her that had captured their attention. Not what she was wearing, but what she was saying. Not how she looked, but how she carried herself. Overcoming the hostility of the assorted nobles of Wikuna was a critical requirement for her plan, and it seemed that the first step on that venture had been a successful one.
Eyes closed, Keritanima shuffled along the carpet in her room. Her attention was focused inward, on her Sorcery, as her probes of mind-seeking energy fingered out from her and saturated the area around her apartments. It didn't take her long to locate and catalog every contact that returned a response to her mental seeking, and then separate the spies from the servants and nobles. She only needed one. Finding the most suitable candidate was what was taking her so long, looking for a strong mind that was drifting a bit, distracted and more prone to her intended plan. Someone with information, yet not so high up in the hierarchy that he would be well trained.
She finally chose her victim, then wove together her spell. She had never tried this before, but she had a good idea of how it was supposed to work. She wove it loosely, a respectably complicated knot of flows of Mind, Earth, Water, and Divine power, then she snapped it taut and released it against her victim. It struck like a viper, inundating him with enough power to send him into a trance-like state. His mind opened up to her like a book, and she found that she could walk through the passages of his mind and look through his memories, hear his thoughts. There was a bit of fuzziness and difficulty digging deeper than surface thoughts and short-term memories, things she knew were off because of her weave, things she could correct with practice. Lula had shown her something similar to this, a simple Mind weave that would allow a Sorcerer to hear the surface thoughts of a target. Katzh-dashi didn't often use such Mind weaves, because they fostered intense distrust in others if they realized that their very thoughts were being overheard, and the public image of the order was an extremely important issue with them. Keritanima had modified the weave, nearly by the seat of her dress, improvising literally as she wove together the spell. Mind weaves were dangerous, because a botched weave could destroy the mind of the target, and it could also backfire on the Sorcerer that was using it. A Mind weave like the one she was using exposed her mind to the weave as well, and a badly woven spell could damage both of them.
It was times like that that she was incredibly thankful she was Wikuni. If she had been human, the Tower could have simply used Mind weaves to persuade her to do anything they wanted.
Concentrating on maintaining the weave, she picked out where she had made her mistakes in weaving it together, even as she reviewed the memories of her target of the last hour or so. He'd been at his post the entire hour, trying in vain to listen through the stone of the floor-her ceiling-with a horn-like listening aid. There was a stray thought about the cowardly priests, afraid to use spells to try to eavesdrop for fear that she would sense their magic and follow it back to them. She could do something like that, she realized, after thinking about it a minute. She couldn't see them, but she could simply trace them back through the Weave. Sorcery required a Sorcerer to know exactly where the target of his spell was located. Mostly that required visual sighting, because a Sorcerer had to be able to see both his weave and his target in order to make it correctly, but some, like Dolanna, Keritanima, and Tarrin, had learned that knowing the exact distance and direction of the victim was also enough to target the victim with magic, and they could weave spells without having to literally see it with their eyes. Tarrin and Keritanima had learned that little trick from Dolanna. Dolanna could weave together complicated weaves blindly. For her, it was an amazing talent, something that no other Sorcerer Keritanima had ever seen, even herself, could do as effectively as she could. It has astounded her to see Dolanna weave spells blind, or with her eyes closed, something that Lula had said was absolutely impossible. That, of course, made her demand that Dolanna teach her that trick. Keritanima could manage moderately complicated weaves blind, but if it got complex, she had to be able to see it to do it right. It was about all she could do to weave together the spell she had just created blind. Weaving blind was exceptionally difficult, and it drastically increased the chances of an error in the weave, cause the spell to fizzle, or knot up and generate a wildstrike.
Keritanima had suffered one wildstrike during her training. She intended never to have to go through that again. If not for Lula, it would have taken weeks for her fur to grow back.
The spy knew nothing of importance, but the test had been the reason for it, not what she could learn. She had proved to herself that she could weave blindly a spell that complicated, using nothing more than her Mind-weave sounding to determine her victim's exact location. She had also puzzled out the modifications she'd need to make to allow her to access more than a victim's surface thoughts, though just getting surface thoughts would make the weave much easier to create.
His usefulness to her at an end, she attempted another Mind weave, a much simpler one that caused him to immediately fall into a deep sleep. She'd killed four sets of spies so far, blind-weaving the spell of Suggestion against them, but this set she wanted to keep for a while. To be her experimental subjects if anything else.
She was positive that that was the one reason why they hadn't accused her of the killings. Her father's sages probably knew all about Sorcery, so they knew that a Sorcerer could only affect targets that he or she could see. Keritanima had learned how to transcend that restriction, but they probably wouldn't think of that for a while, thinking it was more likely that she simply had an agent or spy go around and wipe out the opposition. That had probably been one reason why her father had chosen the throne room as his meeting place. The distance between him and her would make weaving a spell against him less likely to work if she had so much distance between them. If she was irrational, he probably felt that she would make her attempt the instant he was in sight, so he arranged it so there was alot of real estate between them to make that more difficult.
Her father wasn't stupid. In that respect, and only that respect, she could give him a little credit.
"Kerri?" Azakar asked again, giving her an odd look when she clapped her hands in excitement that her experiment had worked.
"Nothing, Zak, just proving something to myself," she grinned roguishly. "I have to amuse myself somehow until Miranda and Binter get back." They were in the city. Miranda was making contact with Ulfan, and Binter was along to protect her. Keritanima felt that Binter would be better for that task, since Ulfan didn't know Azakar, and Binter was more familiar with the city. Keritanima felt more than safe enough with Azakar. Binter and Sisska had trained him in all the things the Knights didn't, and he was a handful for ten men if it came to a fight. That Binter would leave her in his care said everything about the Vendari's opinion of Azakar's competence.
"We could play stones, or chess."
"True, but you're too easy to beat," she winked.
Azakar gave her a flat look. "That sounds like a challenge," he said pugnaciously.
"Go get the board then," she replied.
Keritanima brushed out the fur in her tail as they played chess. Azakar had been suffering under the martial skill of his Vendari tutors in chess as well as in training, and he proved that he learned quickly. He was a dangerous opponent in a chess game. Nothing Keritanima couldn't handle, but he made her pay attention to the game, or he would beat her.
"You know, you didn't seem very disappointed when they took away all your money," he mentioned as he made a move.
Keritanima paused to touch the Weave and weave together a Ward that stopped all sound from passing out of it. It didn't, however, stop sound from entering it, allowing them to hear outside while preventing their words from being heard. "They didn't even scratch my worth, Zak," she grinned.
"I sorta figured that," he noted. "I'm sure they did too."
"I wanted them to," she said. "I want them to know that I have the money to stir up trouble."
"That seems like a bad idea, since you are going to cause trouble. They'll be expecting it. You're giving yourself away."
"Zak, trust me. I want them to look for it, because that will let me do what I need to do under their noses, without them seeing a thing."
"Oh. So, they'll be looking for sheep, while you dress in wolf's clothing and walk right past them."
"More or less," she agreed with a toothy grin.
"I'm glad it makes sense to you," he grunted.
"Of course it does," she replied. "I won't go into details, but let's just say that my father will be very unsettled knowing that I can still stir up the hornet's nest."
"Ahh," he mused. "Keeping him off balance."
"Exactly," she affirmed with a smile and a nod. "Right now, he's probably issuing a series of decrees to repeal certain laws," she said. "Laws that restrict his own power with respect to me."
"That's bad."
"No, that's good," she winked. "That's what I want him to do."
"Why? You want to be flogged?"
"I'd be flogged no matter what," she said calmly. "The important thing is to get those laws repealed."
"Why?"
She winked at him. "Because they're getting in my way a great deal more than they're getting in his," she replied. "Knowing my father, he's repealing the entire decrees those laws are taken from. He'll be charging into it, because he's still angry over what I did to him. There are other laws in those decrees, laws that restrict my power a great deal more than they restrict my father's. Those other laws within those decrees are what I need removed."
"That's why you mentioned specific laws?"
She grinned. "The laws I need removed aren't in the decrees I mentioned, but my father will have the law reseached, so he'll find them and include them in his repeal. My father is anything but thorough."
"You mean that entire scene was just a set-up?"
She grinned even more.
"Kerri, that's evil!" he laughed.
"You're dealing with a professional, Zak," she said lightly. "I don't play around."
"I'll say."
"It's a calculated risk," she admitted. "If my father's smart, he'll only repeal parts of it. But I got him worked up, and when my father is angry, he sometimes gets rash. I'm counting on that."
"How do you pull off these things?" he asked.
"Planning, my friend, planning," she smiled. "Playing politics requires three things. That you understand your opponents, that you have clear and precise objectives, and that you have a good plan to reach them. I understand my father, as well as the general behavior of most of the noble houses. I can use that to my advantage in my plan, a plan with specific objectives. The better your plan, the better chance you'll succeed."
"You make it sound like a war."
"It is a war, Zak," she said seriously. "We don't fight it with armies and siege engines, we fight it with words and assassins. The only thing that makes our war different than yours is that there are no defined battle lines or territory."
The door opened, and Miranda and Binter entered. Binter had a deep gash on his lower bicep, and Miranda's dress was torn. Blood stained the head of the Vendari's warhammer.
"I see they didn't waste any time," Keritanima grunted, standing up with Azakar to tend their companions. "Are you two alright?"
"Nothing Binter couldn't handle, Keritanima," Miranda said easily as Keritanima put her hands on her maid and touched the Weave. Miranda was unharmed aside from some minor bruises, which the Princess healed easily. Binter's gash was a bit more of a challenge. The Vendari didn't move at all while Keritanima used Sorcery to mend the wound, sealing the slash mark and even urging his scales to regrow over it. "How many, Binter?"
"Ten," he replied as Azakar took his hammer and set it in the corner. "They attacked us not five blocks from the Palace, in an alleyway."
"Who's were they, Miranda?"
"I'm not sure," she replied. "They could be from your father, but he would have sent more. It may have been Jenawalani, or some noble that still holds a grudge against you."
"That's half of Wikuna, Miranda."
"Then we don't have to look far to find a suspect," she replied calmly.
"Aside from that entertainment, how did it go?"
"Ulfan is still more or less in control of the underworld," Miranda announced. "He assured me that he'd have as many men as we can afford to pay, whenever we needed them."
"That's good. Kalina?"
"He's tracking her down. She got caught pickpocketing and just got out of prison, so that means that she's prostituting. She can't afford another conviction. She could be in any number of brothels."
"This Kalina is a prostitute?" Azakar asked.
"I told you that before, Zak. You should've known that I'd have some rather shady friends," she added with a wink. "Kalina is a thief and a whore, and she doesn't make any excuses about it. Here in Wikuna, being a harlot isn't necessarily a bad thing. She'll never be high society, but it's a decent way to make a good living if you're a single girl with no family or friends. Did you tell Ulfan how to get Kalina here?" she asked Miranda.
The mink Wikuni nodded. "She should be here tonight."
"So, you're going to switch with this Kalina and go do things," Azakar surmised.
Keritanima smiled. "More than do things, Zak," she replied lightly. "I have quite a bit to arrange in the next few days, and I can't do that here."
"So what's our next step?" Miranda asked.
"Our next step is to wait for Kalina," Keritanima announced. "I can't go any further until I can either get Kalina or be able to leave the room. And my father won't let that happen. As long as I'm in here, where he can see every person who comes and goes, I can't organize trouble for him."
"So he thinks," Azakar chuckled. "Wait. If Kalina is a secret, how is she going to get in unseen?"
"Magic, my dear Zak," Keritanima smiled. "I already told Ulfan what to tell her. That's why we'll be in my room from now til she arrives, looking out the window and waiting for her signal."
"You're going to magic her up here?"
"No, I'm going to place an Illusion over her that will make her look like a palace servant," she explained. "Kalina will have instructions to simply walk in, that the guards and other servants won't challenge her. She knows where my apartment is, so that's not a problem. She's been here before. When she gets close, I'll put the guards outside and anyone watching to sleep, and she'll simply walk in."
"Are you sure you can create the Illusion from that distance, Kerri?" Miranda asked dubiously. "It's five stories to the ground, and she'll have to stand off a ways so you can see her."
"I'm pretty sure I can do it, Miranda," Keritanima replied. "I've worked weaves from even greater distances."
They moved to Keritanima's bedchamber and quietly waited. At all times, one person was standing at the window, waiting for Kalina to arrive. She would be wearing a red cloak, and would be carrying a basket of flowers. That was how they would spot her, but she was instructed to stand near a fountain in the courtyard in front of the Palace and stare up at the window until Keritanima responded. Kalina wouldn't know what kind of a response it would be, but Ulfan's instructions would make it plain she'd know when she was signalled to continue.
Kalina arrived about four hours after Miranda and Binter had returned. Azakar called Keritanima over as soon as Kalina entered the front gate and began to cross the considerable distance from the outer gate to the Palace itself. Her red cloak made her stand out, but Azakar said that it was her tail that made him identify her. Kalina was a fox Wikuni, just like Keritanima, and a fox's tail was very distinctive. Kalina went over to the fountain and looked up at the Palace, obstensibly staring at its powerful majesty, and Keritanima touched the Weave and began. Illusions were weaves of Air, Fire, Water, a touch of Mind, and Divine power. They were rather complicated weaves, and Keritanima lacked Dar's seemingly innate aptitude for the art of Illusion, but she was an accomplished enough Sorceress to be able to create flawless images. The distance made what would have been a simple weave an extraordinary challenge. Keritanima had to furiously concentrate and expend a tremendous amount of her power to keep exacting control of the weave as she wove it together from the flows, then snapped it down and released it. She could see the indistinct wavering around Kalina, meaning that the Illusion had taken hold. Keritanima doublechecked the weaving, and found it to be solid. It would hold itself with only a barest of maintenance on her part, would probably remain a viable weave for several moments after Keritanima stopped maintaining it. Illusions usually did not dissipate for minutes, sometimes even hours, after a Sorcerer stopped concentrating on it. It was one of only two types of weaves that were like that, but the great distance Keritanima was from Kalina wouldn't give the weave the refined care of creation it would need to be able to hold itself together after Keritanima stopped supplying it with power. A well woven Illusion created by an accomplished Sorcerer could linger for hours after it was let go. Maybe even days. But to do that, Keritanima would have to be right on top of Kalina, and take her time to carefully and methodically build the weave flow by flow to give it that kind of lasting duration.
That done, she wove together a simple weave of Air and Divine power, a spell that would allow Kalina to hear her voice as if she was standing beside her. "Kalina, don't look around," Keritanima said firmly. She nearly did, but caught herself quickly. "I know they told you I learned magic while I was gone, and this is magic. You can hear what I'm saying, but I can't hear you, so don't try to talk or ask me any questions. You can't see it, but I placed an Illusion over you that makes you look like any other palace servant. Come up to my room, but stop at the landing of the stairs and wait there until I talk to you again."
Kalina stood there for a moment.
"Well? Move, girl! I don't have all day, and that Illusion isn't going to last forever!"
With a sudden lurch, Kalina started towards the elbaorate front doors of the Palace.
With her weave of probing tendrils of Mind, Keritanima reached out, locating all the spies and guards around her room. By their positions, she knew which ones could see the door, so she prepared a special weave of Mind and Divine power that would cause their minds to be disjointed from their bodies for a short span of time. It was a harmless spell that would make them not remember anything that happened while they were in their trance-like state. She counted off the seconds silently to herself, waiting anxiously until Kalina's familiar mind entered the range of her probing spell. She got a lock on her larcenous friend and struck anyone that could see her with her weave, causing them all to go vacant-eyed and rigid. Her fur began to dampen as Keritanima sweated from the effort of maintaining the Illusion and the probe and seven different weaves of sleep. It was a serious chore to weave the simple spell to talk to Kalina again when she reached the landing of the stairs. "Come to my room. Ignore the guards, they won't be able to see or hear you. Just walk in and close the door behind you." She looked at Miranda. "Go to the sitting room and wait for her, Miranda," she ordered. "She'll get nervous if the room is empty when she comes in. Zak, go stand in your chamber and watch. When they close the door, call out to me so I can drop these weaves."
Keritanima tracked Kalina's progress, dropping the Illusion as soon as she got out of sight of the stairs. There was nobody around to see her, so holding the Illusion was pointless. She released the probing weave once Kalina was only a few feet from her door, then she released the sleeping weaves when Azakar called out that they were in and the door was closed. Sighing from the effort, Keritanima sagged to her chair at her desk, wiping the dampness from the fur of her brow and feeling the weariness creep into her. That had been a considerable effort, but it had paid off handsomely.
Kalina looked the very same as she had the last time Keritanima saw her. Kalina was a fox Wikuni, and to look at her was like looking into a mirror. She was just a shade taller than Keritanima, but her body shape and facial features were so close that it was pointless to note the differences. But where Keritanima was dressed in a clean, well made dress of soft brown, Kalina was dressed in a dirty, slightly torn dress that exposed the majority of her fur-clad cleavage. Her fur was matted and noticably dirty, and her hair was stringy and unkempt. The only thing on her that was clean was the red cloak that Ulfan had given to her so she could be picked out of the crowd. Azakar gaped at the pair of them as he looked from one to the other. Kalina grinned toothily at Keritanima as she took off the cloak.
"You look ticked off, Keritanima," Kalina said.
"I'm just a bit tired, Kalina," she replied. "Azakar, meet Kalina, my body double. Kalina, this is Azakar, a human friend of mine.
"Amazing," Azakar breathed. "If you were twins, you couldn't look more alike."
"That's the idea, human," Kalina said. "Some men like me because I look like the Princess. It's a kind of fantasy of theirs."
"Many people know about Kalina, but none of them know that I know her," Keritanima said calmly, ignoring Kalina's comment about some men's fantasies.
"But she doesn't sound the same," he pointed out.
"Voices can be changed, Azakar," Kalina said, in a nearly perfect imitation of Keritanima's voice. It was enough to make the Mahuut stare at her in surprise. "Do you want to hear an impression of King Damon?"
"Incredible," Azakar mused. "How did you learn it?"
"I grew up in a travelling circus," she replied. "I learned the art of imitation from one of the other performers. He was much better than me. How much am I getting paid for this, Keritanima?"
"What you're going to be doing is dangerous, so I'll pay you ten thousand gold crowns for this," she offered. That made the fox Wikuni give her a strangled look. "Believe me, Kalina, you'll earn every copper farthing."
"What do I have to do?" she asked, putting a hand to her stomach unconsciously.
"Nothing more than pretend to be me," she replied. "It's just that I'm in a bit of trouble, so there's a chance that you may get flogged. Just so you know up front."
"Well thank you very much for telling me that after you get me up here!" she barked testily.
"That's why I waited until you got up here," Keritanima said with a slight smile. "All you have to do is play me when I'm not here," she told the imposter. "Your job is to convince everyone that you're not coming out of this room, and you don't want to talk to anyone. It should be easy enough for you."
"What about the flogging?"
"Oh, that. My father wants me flogged as punishment for what I did to him. He's trying to remove the barriers I put in his way. There's an outside chance you'll be in here playing me when they come to get me. If that happens, do your best to delay it until I get back, so we can switch places. If you can't, well, I'll heal you of any injuries you suffer, and pay you an extra ten thousand crowns in compensation."
"What did you do to him?" she asked curiously.
"Oh, not much. I just assassinated his entire circle of advisors and most of his higher officials," she said casually.
"That was you?" Kalina asked, then she burst out laughing. "Ulfan's going to kill you. The big mess after that happened put the army on the streets, and that hurt Ulfan's business."
"What happened?"
"Well, House Kalthak brought in a huge private army a few days after we heard about the assassinations," she answered. "I think the King felt that was a prelude to a coup, so he called up the army and put them in the streets. Some of them are still here. Things have been tense in Wikuna since you left, Keritanima. Damon Eram raised taxes again, and he's cracked down hard on anyone who can't pay. There's alot of muttering in the streets about a revolt."
"He probably raised taxes to buy back some of the free agents," Keritanima mused aloud. "That, or he's just being greedy."
"Word on the street is that he's been buying the support of some of the larger noble houses," Kalina offered.
"Which ones?"
"House Tarn and House Zalan. There have even been rumors of a marriage between Damon Eram and a lady of House Zalan. Some even say it's Sheba."
"Those two would be perfect for each other," Keritanima snorted.
"Word is that Arthas Zalan is trying to get Sheba off a ship. She's become a serious embarassment for Wikuna. Marrying her off would drydock her for good."
"Well, we can't have that," Keritanima said absently. "I'll have to do something about that."
"Why not?"
"I don't want any cooperation between my father and the other noble houses," she replied. "They're supposed to be at each other's throats. I guess I'll have to do something about that as well."
"Good luck. Now then, show me to all those pretty dresses and sparkling jewels I get to wear while I'm here."
"All gone, I'm afraid," Keritanima said. "Part of my punishment. I do have something clean and whole for you, though."
"I'm liking this job less and less," Kalina grumbled.
"You're just upset that there will be no pretty baubles to steal this time," Keritanima said casually.
Kalina flushed.
"Don't worry. I took it out of your pay last time, Kalina," Keritanima said sweetly, patting her on the cheek. "Now let's get you dressed. I have some errands to run, and from the sound of it, I'd better get started soon."
After dressing Kalina up and instructing her how to act, and putting on Kalina's soiled garment herself, Keritanima put on Kalina's red cloak and pulled it around her. "Azakar, Miranda, you're with me," Keritanima announced. "Binter, you stay here to reinforce the idea that I'm the one sitting in here."
"I do not like this, Highness," Binter said bluntly. "I should be there to protect you."
"I have Zak, Binter," she smiled. "You trust Zak, don't you?"
"Only so far, because he is still young and he does not know the city," he answered honestly.
"Well, I have Miranda here to help out. I should be alright, Binter. In another way, you'll be protecting me much more by staying here than if you were with me."
"How is that?"
"Binter, my dear friend, everyone knows I won't so much as go to the kitchens without you," she said with a toothy grin. "If you're in here, then they'll believe that I'm in here. It's that simple."
"You speak truth," Binter said after a moment. "I will treat Mistress Kalina as if she were you."
"Just keep your mouth shut, Binter," Keritanima ordered. "Not a word to anyone until I get back. That way nothing slips out."
He nodded solemnly.
Weaving was a chore, because she had already tired herself out, but she didn't have the time to recover. She ensured that they would leave without being noticed by anyone, then Keritanima covered the three of them in the Illusion of palace servants. Then she simply had the others walk out the front door. Not a single guard, soldier, servant, noble, or visitor gave them so much as a strange look. Keritanima led the way until they were several blocks away from the Palace, when she dropped the Illusions covering her and Miranda, and tugged a bit on the neckline of the dress. It smelled like Kalina, sweat, spilled food and wine, and a few other scents that made the Wikuni princess recoil from certain areas of the dress instinctively. Kalina's bosom was just a bit fuller than Keritanima's, so it made the daring neckline of the dress loose and prone to shifting whenever she moved.
"Alright, so where do we begin?" Miranda asked as they walked along the wide avenues of Wikuna.
"We begin with Ulfan," she replied decisively.
Keritanima led them across the wide city of Wikuna, picking their way carefully to avoid known areas controlled by her father and noble houses, places where spies and agents would surely see Miranda and send people to investigate. They ended up in one of the poorest sections of the city, a place where many of the brownstones and rowhouses had windows boarded over, where decay and refuse was littering the streets. The pedestrians in the area were all dressed in clothes that made Keritanima's torn dress look rich by comparison. This was Lowtown, the place where most people hard on their luck, beggars, and debtors eventually ended up. It was usually the last stop on the spiralling freefall before the grave. It was populated by the unfortunate, the mentally ill, the criminals, and the beggars. They lived in the abandoned houses and buildings and on the streets like squatters, where each building was controlled by whoever tough or strongarm could keep control of it. Keritanima, under the guise of Lizelle, owned a vast majority of Lowtown, and she refused to sell it. She held onto it for reasons both compassionate and coldly logical. If Lowtown were sold and knocked down for more respectable housing, the people who lived here would have nowhere else to live. They would scatter all over the city, probably causing trouble and getting themselves thrown into prison, where their life expectancy would be cut from years to months. Since Lowtown provided a central point for the lowest class of society, it made it easy for those organizations that helped them to know where to come and provide for as many as possible. The buildings at the fringes of Lowtown often served as daily soup kitchens to help feed the homeless and destitute. And since Lowtown was here, it kept them out of the more affluent areas of the city, kept them from attacking innocent people for whatever they carried in their purses. Many of them did that anyway, but if Lowtown were gone, then many many more would be doing it as well.
The last reason Keritanima all but owned Lowtown was because of Ulfan. Ulfan ran his thieves' den from Lowtown, and protecting Lowtown was one of the ways that she paid Ulfan back for teaching her enough to keep her alive all those years. She took them directly there, to a huge, dilapidated warehouse just about in the middle of Lowtown. From the outside, it looked completely abandoned. The truth was anything but that illusion. Keritanima approached one of the smaller side entrances, where a pair of beggars crouched in the alleyway looking thoroughly miserable. They were not beggars. They were Ulfan's guards, there to defend the entrance to the building. Keritanima stepped up to them boldly as they stood to confront her, a large dog Wikuni and an even larger wolf Wikuni, then made a quick gesture with both hands, putting her fingers together and forming a symbol that vaguely resembled a mask. They both nodded to her calmly and stepped aside, as the wolf opened the door for the trio.
The interior of the warehouse was one huge empty room, with a row of old offices in the back that served as their treasure vault and the quarters of the higher ranking members of the guild. The vast empty space was filled up by old boxes and stacks of old wood and other large objects that formed a natural maze on the warehouse floor, a maze constructed to confound invaders, yet looked nothing more like stacks of old junk. The thieves of the Black Shadows lived in a larger common area outside the maze, beside the private rooms, but they would scatter into the maze on a signal to make life miserable for anyone trying to gain entry. There were any number of secret passages and hidden doorways inside the maze to let the thieves move quietly and invisibly through the maze to surprise or mislead invaders; indeed, the only way to get out of the maze was to know where those secret doors were. Keritanima knew the maze, so she confidently escorted her two friends along dark, shadowed passages and between closely stacked piles of junk or wooden crates, until she deftly opened a panel in an large wooden crate and stepped inside it.
It opened to a large common area with a firepit in the center of the room. About twenty members of the guild were residing within, sleeping, playing dice, eating, or performing more lurid activities. Ulfan didn't restrict himself to just thieves. He had swindlers, beggars, thugs, cutpurses, cat burglars, and whores in his guild, and it was one of the harlots selling her services to another member in one corner that got Azakar's attention. Miranda elbowed him in the side to keep his attention focused on protecting the Princess. Sitting in a cushioned chair near the door to his room was Ulfan. He was a bear Wikuni, a monstrous intimidating figure, nearly eight feet tall and probably weighing around five hundred pounds. But his size had not hampered his ability to steal. His clawed fingers were nimble and surprisingly delicate, and he could move his massive bulk with a quiet that would do a fifty pound child proud. Ulfan didn't go much for stealing anymore, for his quick, intelligent mind had elevated him to the role of guildmaster, where he conducted his business and also occasionally sold the services of his assassins to this or that noble family. Ulfan wasn't the only guildmaster in Wikuna-his guild was rather small compared to some-but he was well known as a solid dependable hire, who would get the job done so long as the pay was appropriate for the task he was hired to do. That made the Black Shadows one of the more affluent guilds in the city.
Ulfan looked up and smiled broadly, showing teeth that were just beginning to brown with his age. Ulfan was an old Wikuni, nearly sixty, though it wasn't apparent to anyone who looked at him. "Little swordflower," he called warmly, standing up and motioning her over.
"Swordflower?" Azakar asked.
"It's a nickname," Keritanima grinned at her human friend as they went over to Ulfan's chair. Keritanima extended her hands to Ulfan when she reached him, and he swallowed them up in his massive taloned hands and looked down at her. "You're getting fat, old bear," she noticed critically.
"It's a bear's nature to get fat," he countered smoothly in a deep voice. "You're looking well. I see Kalina found you."
"You can tell them apart?" Azakar asked respectfully.
"Of course," Ulfan replied to him. "Kalina has more chest than Keritanima, and her legs are longer. That's why she's taller."
"Don't let this slovenly sop fool you, Zak, he's one of the sharpest tacks in this city," Keritanima said in a jibing tone, patting Ulfan on the arm.
"One tries," Ulfan said modestly. "You're still looking lovely, Miranda. Ready to give up on my swordflower and accept a position here?"
"As much as I'm sure you can bring a woman to weak-kneed pleasure, Ulfan, I think I'd like a job where I spend more time on my feet than on my back."
"You don't know what you're missing."
"I know exactly what I'm missing. My job with Kerri lets me spend enough time on my back to keep me happy."
Ulfan just grinned at her, then turned back to Keritanima. "So, what brings you to my door? Word on the street says that your father wants to flog you, and that you're restricted to your room."
"Kalina's playing Princess for me. That's why I needed her," Keritanima replied smoothly.
"What about the flogging?"
"I told her I'd double her pay if that happened while she was being me," she told him. "She probably wants to be flogged now."
I've been flogged," Ulfan grunted. "It's not worth the money, believe me."
Azakar shuddered slightly, a haunted look crossing his features, but it quickly vanished.
"I know you know I'm here on business, old bear, so let's get right to the point," Keritanima announced. "I need you to arrange some assassinations."
"My knives are always for sale, swordflower," he assured her. "Who and when?"
Keritanima pulled out a piece of parchment. "These are all the names," she said, handing it over to him. The bear Wikuni opened it, and his eyes widened in shock. He gaped at Keritanima openly for a moment, then he laughed ruefully. "I know, some of them won't be easy," she assured him. "As you notice, I've already written what I thought was a fair fee for each name. Do you think they're reasonable, old bear?"
Ulfan quickly pored over the figures. "Yes, they look fair to me," he assured her. "I see you even took into account the fact that I'll have to hire some freelancers, and buy the aid of a couple other guilds."
Keritanima nodded. "They all have to be hit on the same night, old bear. I want all them killed exactly nineteen days from today."
"Not much time."
"You can manage it," she said. "I'll pay you half today, and half when the job is done."
"You have yourself a deal, swordflower," he smiled. "I don't think you're carrying that much money on you."
Keritanima shook her head. "It'll be here by sunset, old bear. I have to arrange it."
"Word is that your father stripped you of your money."
"He thinks he took my fortunes," Keritanima winked. "You'll get your money, Ulfan. Since when have I fallen through on a contract?"
"Never," he smiled. "I must say, you're looking very well, swordflower. Word was that you did some serious growing up out East. Even though I know the truth of it I still see they were right."
Keritanima smiled demurely at her old mentor. "I found good friends, Ulfan."
"And since when have I not loved my little swordflower?" he challenged with a smile.
"You know what I mean," she retorted with a playful smile. "You're a thief, old bear. I found friends who didn't teach me how to cut purses and pick locks."
"No, they taught you how to skewer people and boil them in their own skin," Azakar said casually.
Keritanima slapped Azakar on the arm while Ulfan laughed. "Stay out of this, Zak!" she snapped at him.
"Well, I'm so glad that my little swordflower found someone to replace me," he teased. "How did things go out East?"
"Very well, actually," she replied. "I managed to fall in with the right people. If it hadn't been for bad luck, they'd have never caught me." She pulled the cloak around her a bit. "I hate to cut this short, old bear, but I still have alot of stops to make, and you have a major project to start arranging."
"True, but it saddens me that we don't have time to catch up. And you should get out of here before someone thinks you're Kalina and tries to hire you."
"They'd get a big shock," Keritanima grinned, holding up her thumg and index finger, then Ulfan rocked back when a little bit of arcing electricity danced between those fingers.
"I see those rumors were also true," Ulfan surmised. "They really taught you magic at that school?"
"Some of it," she replied.
"Could you teach me?"
"Sorcery isn't something you can just learn, old bear," she said gently. "You have to have natural ability before you can learn it. If you're interested in magic, go find a Wizard. He can teach you magic that you can use."
"Swordflower, you know that wizard magic is forbidden here," Ulfan said.
"I know a couple of arcane mages, old bear," Keritanima teased. "I'll even give you their names, if you ask very nicely."
"Maybe later," he said. "After I do this for you." He held up the parchment of names meaningfully.
"Alright. I have to go, old bear. I'll send you some love notes."
Ulfan collected the petite princess up in his huge arms and then picked her up into a massive hug. "I missed you, swordflower," he told her sincerely. "I'll get things moving for you. You just make sure you have that money here by sundown."
"I'd like to keep my ribs," Keritanima wheezed.
"Those are my ribs," Ulfan teased as he set her down gently. "I'll be waiting for your notes."
"You do that," she grinned. "Get to work, Ulfan. You're on my payroll now, and I expect my employees to be professional and motivated."
"I'll show you some motivation," Ulfan jibed, poking her in the shoulder. "I'll see you later. Keep yourself safe, little swordflower."
"Always, fat bear, always," she assured him with a warm smile, then she led her two companions back out as Ulfan called together his more trusted thieves.
"He seemed sincere enough," Azakar noted as they walked away from the warehouse.
"Ulfan's a sweetie," Keritanima smiled at him. "He has some rough edges, but those just make him more adorable."
"I wouldn't call a thief and a murderer a sweetie," Azakar grunted.
"You have no idea what a Wikuni woman looks for in a man, Zak," Keritanima winked. "In our society, being a good thief and a murderer are good qualities."
"You're lying," Azakar stated bluntly as Keritanima just gave him a wicked little smile. "No way," he said adamantly. He turned to Miranda, who was wearing a similar little smile as Keritanima, and that made the large Mahuut snort and fold his arms.
Keritanina and Miranda laughed delightedly, and Keritanima patted Azakar on the arm. "Of course I'm joking," she assured him. "Ulfan's a thief and a murderer, but he's also a dependable, loyal man."
"How can a thief be loyal?"
"When you pay for a service from Ulfan, that service is rendered," Miranda told him calmly. "It is rendered quickly, efficiently, and quietly, and those are qualities that are very much in demand when you want someone murdered. When Ulfan accepts a job, he makes sure that job is carried out, and he won't switch sides or sell out his employer once he's paid. Ulfan is known as one of the most dependable workers of underhanded deeds in Wikuna."
"Oh. I guess I can understand that."
"He's a very solid friend," Keritanima said admirably. "He thinks of me as his little daughter, so he taught me more than he really intended to," she smiled.
"Why does he call you swordflower?"
"Because I'm very pretty to look at, but you don't touch," she winked. "I carved up a couple of his thieves when they mistook me for Kalina and got fresh."
"Oh. I guess that's a good reason. Where to now?"
"To the main office of the Twenty Seas trading company," she winked. "I have to arrange for Ulfan's pay."
Going there required a change in clothing, so they stopped at a seamstress' shop and arranged for new clothing. When Keritanima left the Dancing Needle, she was garbed in a sleek, expensive gown of cream-colored satin, plain yet extremely elegant, with a very simple yet tasteful string of pearls around her neck, wrapped around the chain of her silver amulet. The neckline was high enough to hide that very distinctive adornment, something that would invariably give her away, but still managed to show a peek of cleavage. That was necessary, since low-cut dresses were all the rage among the higher circles of Wikuni society. The more it showed, the better it was. Keritanima figured that they'd eventually end up with dresses that started at the waist. Keritanima had pulled up her hair into a more mature-looking bun, and it changed her entire appearance. She no longer looked like a young lady, and now looked like a sophisticated, mature socialite or well-to-do merchant.
"Wow," Azakar said as she stepped from the shop and modelled a bit for him. "You look completely different."
"That's the idea," she winked. "Let's go. We have to hire a carriage to take us across town."
"Why not walk?"
"Because, my dear bodyguard, Lizelle Sailmender does not walk around," she said in a pompous tone.
"And what does that mean?"
"It means that she's assuming one of her other identities," Miranda told him. "Don't worry about it, Zak. Just play along. In a few minutes, she'll probably put an Illusion over me. You see, I'm Sanda, Lizelle's maid. I used to dye my hair and wear a disguise, but it'll be easier the other way."
"You know, I wonder why nobody is noticing me," Azakar said curiously.
"Because what's so striking about a wolverine Wikuni playing bodyguard?" Keritanima said lightly.
"I'm still-" he started, but Keritanima cut him off with a smile and a nod. "Oh. I don't see a thing."
"You won't," she smiled. "The wearer doesn't see his costume, Zak. Only the people who look at him."
"I didn't know that."
"Now you do," she grinned, and then Keritanima moved to hire a carriage.
The home office of the Twenty Sails trading company was a massive trio of warehouses located solidly in the middle of the docks. Three large warehouses were there with smaller buildings between them, walled off from the others by an impressive metal fence that was patrolled by roving sentries. The trading company owned the docks, as well as the ships sitting in their sloops, and just about everything that was inside the compound. The covered carriage Keritanima hired to bring them there stopped at a heavily defended pair of large steel gate, as a pair of intimidating dog Wikuni advanced. One of them, Keritanima recognized. Darl, one of her company's older guards, a good solid man who always paid attention to detail. He was an excellent guard. Keritanima raised the shade hiding them from the outside and looked out imperiously.
One of them drew himself up into a rigid posture. "Lady Lizelle!" he announced. "I will have the gate opened immediately!"
"Thank you, Darl," she said in a calm, deep voice. "Would you send someone to let Rallix know I'm coming? I don't want to have to wait for him when I arrive."
"At once, my Lady," he said in a confident tone, turning and shouting back to the other men. "Send a runner! Have Master Rallix summoned to Lady Lizelle's office immediately!"
The carriage drove past the front gate, and Azakar was looking strangely at Keritanima. "Why did they just let us in?"
"They'd better just let us in," she smiled. "I own this company, Zak, or at least Lizelle does. I'm not a poor little rich girl, you know."
"How many secrets do you have, Kerri?"
"More than you'll ever find out," she teased in reply.
Where Ulfan's warehouse was dark and grungy, Lizelle's office was impeccably neat and orderly. A desk and chair stood by a window looking out over the docks, with two more elegant chairs for visitors. There was a metal cabinet beside the desk with drawers, for holding documents, and a washstand with a pitcher and basin in the corner. About half of Wikuna had running water, but they had not managed to extend the plumbing lines inside the building. There was a water line downstairs, in the cafeteria for her workers, but nowhere else. Keritanima sat down at the desk slowly, running her hands along its clean, clear top, a strange smile on her face. "Stand behind me, Zak. Miranda already knows what to do."
A few minutes after Keritanima sat down, a short, thin badger Wikuni entered the office without knocking. He bowed immediately and silently to the seated Wikuni. Rallix was a thin, short, energetic Wikuni with a sharp mind and a nose for business. He wore a faded brown waistcoat with a clean white shirt beneath it, to match his tan fur and the black mask-like fur that crossed over his eyes, making him look like a bandit. In matters economic, he was a bandit, taking his colleagues for outrageous sums of money in business deals and trading. He'd run the Twenty Sails for nearly five years, back when Keritanima had to wear lifts in her shoes and padding in her bosom to pretend to be a sophisticated, mature merchant woman. In those five years, the Twenty Seas had gone from a small, local company to a major economic enterprise. And Rallix was the primary reason for that.
"Lady Lizelle," he said in his nasal voice. "I was starting to worry that you weren't coming back."
"I've been busy, Rallix," she said calmly. "Bring me the books."
"At once, my Lady," he said, bowing again before he scurried out.
"The books?" Azakar asked in a quiet tone.
"Lizelle always inspects the books when she visits, Zak," Keritanima replied quietly. "Rallix runs this company, but Lizelle owns it. She's going to check the profit margin."
The badger Wikuni returned moments later, carrying two large tomes in his hands. He set them in front of the desk, and Keritanima only nodded to him and opened the covers of one. They all stood in total silence as Keritanima's finger pored over lines of numbers, page after page, then into the second book. After nearly an hour, she closed the cover of the second book and looked up at Rallix. "Excellent. You outdo yourself, Rallix."
"I try, my Lady," he said modestly. "Was there anything else you wanted today?"
"Yes. Have forty thousand in trade bars put into a chest and loaded onto my carriage." Rallix's eyes widened, and he stared at her. "Do you have a problem with that, Rallix?" she asked dangerously.
"Ah, no, my Lady. How should I mark this in the books?"
"Put it down as a business expense," she replied. "If things work out as I intend, the return on this investment will be tenfold."
"At once, my Lady," he said immediately, bowing to her and scurrying from the room.
"Are you always so terse with him?" Azakar whispered.
"Always," Keritanima replied calmly. "Lizelle is a hard woman to please."
"What is a trade bar?"
"A trade bar is a unit of currency," Keritanima replied. "It's a gold bar stamped with a value, and the crest of the house or merchant company that issued it. It's good for the amount stamped, not its weight, but larger valued bars tend to be much larger than smaller valued bars, as a faith display of the issuing house. That way you can put a great deal of money into something easy to carry."
"Couldn't someone just stamp their own bars for huge amounts and then sell them?"
"A house has to be able to buy back any bar they hold at any time," Keritanima told him. "That means that they don't issure more trade bars than the can pay for themselves. And it's very difficult to counterfeit trade bars, Zak. It takes a master goldsmith, the stamp crest of the issuing house, and a very large and expensive minting operation. Not even Ulfan could steal a stamp crest, and it wouldn't do him any good if he did, because usually a house only keeps one or two. Without the crest, a minted bar is worthless. Stealing one would be pointless, because everyone would just stop accepting trade bars from the victimized house or company."
"Does this company issue these bars?"
Keritanima shook her head. "We use trade bars we get from others in business transactions. We're the largest trading company that doesn't have its own trade bars."
"Why not?"
"It's more profitable to let other companies and houses spend their money to make trade bars," Keritanima winked. "Rallix keeps a healthy supply of bars on hand for large cash transactions, so we're never without some operating capital."
"Clever."
"That was Rallix's idea, actually," Keritanima admitted. "I wanted to issue bars at first, but he showed me the profit projections if we didn't. He sold me on the idea."
"So, you own all of this," Azakar mused, turning and looking out the window.
"You bet," Keritanima told him. "This is just one of the company's properties, and I own the company. My father doesn't know it, but I'm one of the richest women in Wikuna. Between this and my personal fortunes, I'm nearly as rich as he is. Or at least I was."
"I've never had money before."
"You're a Knight," Miranda teased. "You took a vow of poverty."
"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Azakar chuckled. "I'd never owned more than what was on my back up until that point."
"Don't worry, Zak, I won't let you go hungry," Keritanima teased.
Rallix returned several moments later. "The trade bars are loaded, my Lady," he said in his nasal voice.
"Very good, Rallix. Anything you want me to sign while I'm here?"
"Actually, yes, my Lady," he said, holding up a sheaf of parchments. "This is business that needs your personal attention, as well as a few proposals from other companies."
"Let's go over it."
Keritanima quickly separated the stack into things she signed immediately, things she read carefully before considering, and four documents she set aside to discuss with Rallix. Miranda and Azakar watched silently as Keritanima and Rallix haggled over the possible benefits of this or that business proposal, the buying of four more ships, and enlarging the trade compound they owned in Dayise. When they got to the last issue, a proposed business alliance with House Zalan, Keritanima snorted and slapped the document down irritably. "I'll not enter business with that lot of parasites," she declared adamantly. "I have it on high authority from a business contact in Dayise that Sheba was personally bailed out of capture by her father. I will not consort with those who condone piracy."
"But House Zalan is powerful and influential, my Lady," Rallix countered. "They seek business alliance with us."
"You mean they seek to overwhelm us," she replied. "Look at this proposal, Rallix! First rights to all our trading docks over our own vessels! Payment for House guards to protect our property, a yearly stipend paid to them for the right to fly their flag while carrying their cargo, even a fee to allow us to place the Zalan crest on our signs! And their price quotes on common trade items are ridiculous! I can get lower prices from an Arakite! They only seek to rape us for whatever they can take," she seethed. "This is an independent trading company, Rallix. We have built ourselves up without noble titles or exemptions, and we will continue to prove that a commoner can compete with the nobility."
"But what of their threat to bury us in legal troubles?"
"I can buy House Zalan," Keritanima fumed. "If they don't think I can't buy off the magistrates, they have another thing coming." She slammed her pen down. "What is it about these damned noble houses that force them to continually try to buy us out or subjugate us under a smothering agreement?"
"I think they're jealous, my Lady, or they fear you," he replied. "We are larger than the trading companies of all but House Eram, House Zalan, and House Tarn. If it weren't for the ridiculous taxes we have to pay to stay in business, we would be larger than all of them. I think they fear that a commoner owns such a large and influential trading company."
"Probably," she snorted. "But I'm not going to sit by and let Arthas Zalan threaten to jeopardize our company."
"Very good then. I take it that our reply to this proposal will be no."
"The reply will be 'go to hell.'"
Rallix raised an eyebrow and stared at his employer curiously. "You'll only anger them," he warned.
"So?"
"Ah. Yes, well, I'll see to it that your reply is sent off with the afternoon mail."
"Very good. Our business is concluded, Rallix. You have done well. Keep up the good work."
"Of course, my Lady," Rallix said smoothly. "Would you like guards for your carriage?"
"My man here can defend it well enough. Thank you for offering."
"It's my money too," he said with a slight smile. "Good day to you."
Keritanima nodded to him as he left, and she tidied up her desk absently. "His money too?" Azakar asked.
"Rallix owns ten percent of the company, and he doesn't receive a salary," Keritanima replied immediately. "It's his personal stake in making it profitable. He gets ten percent of all net profits earned as payment for his services."
"He accepted that deal?"
"Of course. Rallix is brilliant, and I give him free reign on everything but the most important decisions. So in a very real sense, this is his company as well as mine. Believe me, Zak, his ten percent is more than enough to make him very wealthy."
"How do you keep all this separate?" he asked in wonder. "I mean, you must live four lives all at once."
"Practice," she replied with a smile. "Lizelle is unique person, and to the city, she's just as real as the Brat is, or I am. She has a birth record, a tax record, even some arrests for minor lawbreaking when she was a younger woman. Her family is well documented, going back some two hundred years in the records. That they're all me is just a technicality, and it means that they can't be in the same room together," she smiled. "Personality wise, Lizelle is easy to play. She's a sober, quiet, no-nonsense woman that speaks her mind and doesn't talk about anything other than business. She's known as an economic raptor, keen and sharp-dealing, but that reputation actually belongs to Rallix. She's also reclusive, only occasionally leaving her country estate to check up on her business operations. She doesn't socialize, she doesn't play politics, and she doesn't flaunt herself or her wealth. That makes it easy for me to keep up her appearance."
"Wow," Azakar mused. "You're really good at this."
"It's why I'm still alive, Zak," she smiled. "Now let's get the payment delivered and get back before my stand-in gets herself in trouble."
The second attempt on Miranda was much more serious. Azakar carried her into the apartments just after dawn the next day, as Kalina brushed Keritanima's hair in the bedroom. Binter called the Princess in immediately, and Keritanima was nearly horrified into retching.
Someone had shot her.
The lead ball entered through her belly, but it blew a foot wide hole out of her side and back. She was literally shot from point blank range. Someone had put the muzzle of the gun against her gown and pulled the trigger. The entry wound was seared, her fur burned off, and the skin beneath tattooed black from the gunpowder driven beneath it.
"Zak, what happened?" Keritanima asked in a strangled tone, touching the Weave quickly and putting her hands to her friend's stomach. Healing energy flowed from her hands and into Miranda, causing the woman's back to arch as the icy cold of Sorcerer's Healing began to do its work.
"We were in the kitchens," he said in a worried voice. "She asked me to pick up a tray. There was this loud noise, and then the next thing I knew, she was laying on the floor while a tall Wikuni with gray fur ran away. I didn't even bother chasing him, Kerri, because I knew I had to get her here fast."
"You did the right thing, now keep quiet and keep your eyes on the door!" she snapped in reply, her entire concentration focused on rebuilding the savaged insides of her best friend's belly.
It was the hardest thing she had ever done. Miranda's life literally hung by a thread, and she had to carefully balance healing her against how much stress from the healing her body could withstand. The result was an agonizingly slow process that spilled so much of Miranda's blood on the carpet that it spread nearly three feet in every direction. She had to urge Miranda's body into producing blood to replace what she bled out as well as knitting together her shredded insides, and it drained Keritanima to nearly her limit. But she refused to give up, refused to yield. Miranda would not die like this! Not by an assassin's pistol in a kitchen! She gnashed her teeth and ignored her fatigue, putting everything she had into keeping Miranda alive long enough to complete the healing. But there was progress. Slowly, nearly imperceptibly, the holes in Miranda's belly and side began to shrink, internal organs began to mend themselves, tissues rejoined and fused, bones regrew lost mass. Keritanima was so immersed in the healing that she lost all track of time, so when she leaned back on her heels and blew out her breath, sagging so much that Binter caught her, she saw the horrid stain on the carpet and realized she was kneeling in Miranda's blood. Her dress had soaked it up, leaving it red to nearly the waist, and it was caked all over her forearms and hands. Azakar and Binter had been watching the door, Zak still there, and Kalina stood nervously as far into the room she dared come in. If someone threw open the door, they would see both Keritanima and Kalina, and their secret would be compromised.
But Miranda would make it. It had been incredibly difficult, the hardest thing she had ever done, but she would live. "She's going to be alright," Keritanima panted. "Zak, carry her into my room. Kalina, clean her up and put a nightgown on her and put her in my bed. She needs sleep, and alot of it. Don't let her get out of that bed for any reason," she said sternly.
"Right now, Kerri," Zak assured her, rushing over and collecting the unconscious mink Wikuni up into his armored arms, the greaves splotched with Miranda's dried blood.
"I'll take good care of her, Keritanima," Kalina assured her in an uncharacteristically gentle and compassionate voice. Feelings for others wasn't like Kalina.
Keritanima shrugged out of Binter's gentle grip and dragged herself to her feet, her face screwed up in a snarl of anger. This would not happen again! That they would dare attack Miranda in the Palace! Her anger began to fuel her power, boosting her reserves and making her feel strong enough to deal with the situation right now.
"Binter, come with me," she said furiously, shoving up the sleeves of her dress aggressively. "We're going to go kill someone."
"Yes, Princess," Binter replied calmly, picking his hammer up from the corner.
Keritanima threw open the door and stepped out. She knew she had to be a sight, with her bloodstained dress and her furious look, but she didn't care. She had not a whit of concern for what anyone thought or said about how she looked or what she did. This time, they went way over the line, and it was time to step on someone. She had a good idea how Tarrin felt sometimes when he rushed headlong to protect the others, taking all the risks to keep his sisters and friends safe. Miranda was her oldest friend, her best friend outside her brother and sister, and she wasn't just going to let this go. Not this time.
To say that she was angry was an understatement. She was utterly infuriated. She was so angry that she was nearly frightened of it, but her rage made her blind to her own self-fear. There would be blood to pay, and that blood would come right now. She was so mad that a red haze had filmed over her eyes, and her pulse pounded inside them in time with the angry pounding of her heart. Yet her mind was clear, calm, icily calm. She knew exactly what she had to do, and she was ready, eager, nearly frenzied to carry it out. She found herself staring at her own towering fury, and she accepted it completely.
"Princess, you're not allowed-" one guard began, but it was cut short when Keritanima made a slashing motion at the cat Wikuni, and he went flying down the hallway to impact against the hallway's end some twenty feet away. He crashed to the floor and laid there, unmoving.
"Do you want to make an objection?" she asked the other guard in a nearly hysterical voice.
The dog Wikuni gaped at her and shook his head vigorously.
"Good. If anyone enters my apartment while I'm gone, I'll crush you into a liquid and use you to paint my bedchamber. Do you understand me?"
The guard nodded emphatically, holding his halberd in a deathgrip as he moved to block the door after Binter exited the apartment.
She made no attempts to hide or sneak. Keritanima marched through the hallways of the Palace with Binter following closely behind, pushing anyone out of her way that interrupted her, sometimes resorting to displays of Sorcery to move the more dumbfounded. Keritanima marched straight to the kitchen, where servants busily worked to clean the bloodstain off the stone floor so they could get back to the chore of cooking. Keritanima ignored them as she raised her hands and touched the Weave, weaving together he spell that made scents visible. She didn't know who attacked Miranda, but she did know that the Wikuni used a gun. Gunpowder had a very disctinct odor, and it would leave a very visible trail. So long as the assassin kept that gun on him, she could use it to track him down.
The trail became visible, a bright orange series of glowing dots and splotches spattered on the floor. Keritanima and Binter followed that trail at a brisk pace, along the servant's hallways and down into the basement, then back up again in a residential area for noble guests of the Crown. It ended at an elaborate double door, one of the more prestigious residences. Keritanima simply pointed at the door, and Binter used his hammer to break it down with one blow.
Inside were a rather unusual combination of five people. The two she noticed immediately were Arthas Zalan, the raccoon Wikuni head of the noble house Zalan, and none other than Jenawalani. Two others she identified as Praki Mation, a female bear Wikuni that led the minor noble house of Mathon, and Carlis Eward, the male meerkat Wikuni who led another minor noble house of the same name. The fifth Wikuni was dressed in servant's garb, a gray-furred wolf Wikuni, who now had orange spots on his waistcoat since he was within Keritanima's line of sight.
"What is the meaning-" Arthas Zalan began, but he went silent and gaped when he saw Keritanima.
She never said a word. A blinding blast of lightning issued forth from just in front of the still Princess and lanced across the room, striking the gray-furred wolf Wikuni squarely in the face. He didn't even have a chance to scream before the intense heat caused his head to explode, showering Jenawalani and Praki Mation with grisly spoor. Praki began to scream incoherently, holding up her arms and nearly jumping up and down in place, but Jenawalani simply wiped a smatter of brains from her muzzle and fixed her sister with an icy stare.
"How dare you murder my servant!" Arthas Zalan screamed.
Keritanima turned her merciless gaze on him, and Arthas Zalan stared in horror, realizing that he had just sentenced himself to death. Keritanima carried out that sentence instantly, raising a hand and pointing at him, as a pale blue beam of pure energy blasted forth from her single finger. It struck him squarely in the chest, enveloping him before he could writhe, and leaving him standing motionless, his face locked in a look of agonized horror that made Jenawalani scream in terror at the sight of it.
His body had been turned into ice.
Keritanima issued forth a single scream of rage, amplified by her own magical power. It hit them like a giant's hand, slamming them all back and away from her, but to Arthas Zalan it was the final blow. It struck like Binter's hammer, shattering his ice body and scattering it all over the back of the room.
The three survivors gaped at Keritanima from where they were laying against the back of the destroyed room. Keritanima's blast had shattered more than Arthas Zalan. The table and the furniture that had been just in front of the Crown Princess had been shattered by the power of the blast, and that which wasn't close enough to break laid scattered all against the back wall of the room, sometimes on top of a surviving noble.
Keritanima glared viciously at them, and when she spoke, it was like the cold hand of Death Herself issuing forth from her maw.
"If you ever, ever, try to kill me or anyone with me again, I'll make sure people shudder when they hear your name for a thousand years," she promised in a voice so cold that the three nobles shrank back from her. "This is not your game anymore, and I play for keeps," she added with a hiss. "If you want to stay alive, then leave me alone !"
They just stared at her in awe and horror.
"Binter, bring that body," she said, pointing at the headless corpse of the wolf Wikuni. "It's carrying the pistol that will give me all the evidence I need to shrug off any punishment."
Binter nodded calmly, stalking across the room and picking up the body by the tail. The Vendari dragged it callously behind him, leaving a smeared trail of blood from the mangled neck. Keritanima gave the three survivors one more ominous glare, then turned and left in front of her hulking protector.
That was one name to cross off her list.
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