had specified. Bourne would, of course, receive a nice bonus. He was made to
understand that it was also to serve as a gag. Bourne agreed, promised, saluted,
louted, departed.
Once the villa had commanded a fine view of the sea and naturally terraced
landscape flowing a league along the coast to Sanctuary. Once a merchant had
lived here with his family, a couple of concubines who counted themselves lucky,
servants, and a small army or defence force. The merchant was wealthy. He was
not liked and did not care that many did not care for the way he had achieved
wealth and waxed richer. One day a pirate attack began. Two days later the gorge
that marked the beginning of rough country disgorged barbarians. They also
attacked. The merchant’s small army proved too small. He and his armed force and
servants and unlucky concubines and family were wiped out. The manse he had
called Eaglenest was looted and burned. The pirates had not been pirates and the
barbarians had not been barbarians -technically, at least: they were
mercenaries. Thus, forty years ago, had some redistribution of wealth been
achieved by that clandestine alliance of Sanctuarite nobles and merchants.
Others had called Eaglenest ‘Eaglebeak’ then and still did, though now the
tumbled ruins were occupied only by spiders, snakes, lizards, scorpions, and
snails. As Eaglebeak was said to be haunted, it was avoided.
It was a fine plan for a night meeting and transfer of goods, and to Eaglebeak
came Bourne, alone, on a good big prancing horse that swished its tail for the