well! Today Hakiem listened to Hanse, and he swallowed often. What could he do
save agree?
Carrying a pretty pendant off a woman’s earring, Hakiem hied him to the palace.
Gained the Presence by sending in one word to the Prince, with the pendant.
Assured him he had nothing to do with the theft. Most privily Hakiem stated what
he’d been told, and the thief’s terms. Ransom.
The Prince-Governor had to pay, and knew it. If he could get the damned Savankh
back, he’d never have to let out that it had been stolen in the first place.
Taya, who had spent a night in his bed less comfortable than she had expected,
had no notion what had been taken. Too, she seemed to believe his promise to
stretch or excise various parts of her anatomy should she flap her mouth to
anyone at all.
Meanwhile the concubine Lirain and Hell Hound Bourne were jubilant. Plotting.
Grinning. Planning the Revelation that would destroy their employer. Indeed,
they lost no time in dispatching a message to their other employers, back in
Ranke. That was premature, unwise, and downright stupid.
Next came the coincidence, though it wasn’t all that much one. Zaibar and Quag
were sword-happy hotheads. Razkuli complained of fire in the gut and had the
runs besides. That left only two Hell Hounds; whom else would the prince entrust
with this mission? After a short testing conference, he chose Bourne to
implement the transaction with the thief. Bourne’s instructions were detailed
and unequivocal: all was to be effected precisely as the thief, through Hakiem,