* * * * *

It seemed an eternity and a half before the guests finally decided to call it a night. A couple, thanks to urgent business at Kirsoden or their own plantations further away, bid farewell, calling to their hand servants and bundling their cloaks tightly around themselves. Rowan was forced to stand at the front door and watch these few venture off into the dark and lonely night, solitary clusters of lanterns appearing smaller and smaller before disappearing all together out on the winding path.

Rowan slowly turned from the now-distant travelers in the night, sobered by the knowledge that she would soon join them in leaving Warian's plantation. It went against every fiber of her being to fun like this, to abandon her work as she now found herself in the process of doing, but her curiosity concerning her connection to the journal was, at least for the moment, stronger than her desire to help a group of fellow slaves who had gone out of their way to exclude her. They hadn't exactly endeared themselves to her...not that that justified their being slaves. She shook her mind to clear away the misgivings now surfacing.

Warian had pressed her into his side, his arm wrapped around her waist like a snake curled around its prey, eye daring anyone to challenge its claim. Rowan found it easy enough to play along and even rested her head on his shoulder in apparent exhaustion. Lord Thorof received a wink for his amused grin. He obviously found the whole bed of lies quite amusing.

"Well, my good lords, I believe you've exhausted my dear Mistress Rowan here," Warian commented, addressing his remaining guests.

Lord Dinalla chuckled, "Not too much, I would hope," prompting several perverse snickers and suggestive grins.

"Now, now, Dinalla," Warian shook his head. "Well, the servants will show you to guest rooms for the night. I hope you find everything satisfactory and look forward to seeing you all again in the morning."

Good-nights were tossed about among the group with various amounts of alertness and jocose. Lord Thorof even had the audacity (or whatever one would like to call it) to bow low and kiss Rowan's hand suavely. Warian took it in good fun, though Rowan felt him bristle slightly. Jealous creep.

Servants flitted around, beckoning follow to the remaining guests. A couple more well night wishes were given and several minutes of slight disorder followed before the foyer cleared, leaving Rowan alone with Warian.

He turned to her and offered in what she guessed was meant to sound seductive but really had more of a metal-grating-metal quality, "Allow me to escort you to your room."

Unh-huh. I'm sure that's all you've got in mind, Rowan mentally retorted, but she otherwise kept silent. She'd have to play along --at least to a certain point. Just long enough to get the key but not long enough for him to realize her game.

"I must say, you were exceedingly well-behaved tonight," Warian rambled as they walked. "What caused the change?" Uh...think fast.

"You're an evil man, Warian, capable of evil things. I've upheld me end of the bargain and I expect you to do the same." Perfect.

Warian leaned in to keep any inquisitive servants hearing and breathed, "We'll see how you behave for the rest of the evening." Rowan jumped slightly as she literally bit her tongue.

As they passed the room in which Will and Legolas hid, Rowan had a fleeting fear that they'd given up and left or fallen asleep or in some other way copped out on the plan. Her ears served to assuage her anxiety, though, picking up on faint footsteps pacing impatiently across a plush rug. The two relative strangers in whom she was placing an enormous amount of unwarranted trust were still there, further assurance provided when, looking back over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of movement. They were ready.

The stairs seemed half as long as before, giving Rowan not a moment of procrastination, quickening her arrival at the moments that she wished were already gone. Warian seemed to be in quite a rush, though. He pretended not to notice the savage growling and shuffling, broken now and then by a crash of furniture, of Crazy Tamar, merely guiding Rowan firmly into her temporary room.

Inside was darker than it had been earlier with absolutely no sunlight and little candle's glow to compensate. This made Rowan a little more comfortable: dim light would enable her to work quicker and more secretly.

Apparently Warian liked to move quickly, as well. As soon as the door clicked shut, he shoved Rowan against the wall and attacked her neck up and down with vile kisses. Instead of scaring Rowan or making her feel threatened, though, she had to work to quell the laughter threatening to break from her throat. This was what Tamar had to put up with? No wonder she went mad! There was nothing even remotely sensuous about the way Warian lunged at her throat like a dog on a bone.

He proceeded to shuffle her along the wall until they reached an obstacle: the hanging closet. Once further movement with the wall as support was impossible, he spun and led her, this done rather suavely she had to admit, to the bed. He immediately began fiddling with her clothes, trying to see with his fingers where the closure was and how to undo it since his face was a little preoccupied.

Rowan played along with his ministrations, responding only as much as was needed to encourage his distraction. She was extremely grateful, the one time in her life, for all the layers and ties and clasps and knots that closed up a lady's apparel since they inhibited Warian's evil intentions. As time passed and he found the undressing process taking longer than he would have liked, he grew frustrated, his fingers tugging more agitatedly at her corset. This, in turn, allowed Rowan to be a little less subtle in her searching of all the pockets and folds in his garments for the keys in the guise of returning his passions.

Time passed at a snail's pace and Rowan was just beginning to worry that perhaps Kai had been wrong about the keys. Warian was down to the bare necessities (Rowan tried to her avert her eyes and not think about who it was beside her) and had stripped Rowan to nothing but her chemise --a minimal barrier against roaming hands. Just when she was preparing to kick him and flee, she caught the jingle of metal striking metal. It came again with each movement of Warian's and, after a tiny moment more of exploring, Rowan's fingers came in contact with smooth metal warmed by body heat.

Carefully extracting the ring of keys from the hidden pocket of his breeches, she dangled them loosely from her fingers for a moment, freezing any motion for dual purpose --keeping the keys quiet and attracting attention too her pause.

"What? Why do you stop?" Warian demanded as her lack of response became apparent.

"Listen." Both remained silent, taking in the only audible sounds: heavy breathing, scattered clinks and footsteps of servants in the hall, and the ever-present crashing of Tamar. As soon as Tamar paused her wild cavorting, whether to find something to throw or to catch her breath, Rowan seized the opportunity.

"She's loose!" Rowan yelled loudly, dropping the keys so the sound wasn't heard. She pushed firmly against Warian's slightly-wrinkled chest, and cried, "Tamar's got out; she's loose!"

Several things happened in response to her shouts. Commotion was heard outside the door, followed by the jingle of keys and click of a lock, though the latter was perhaps observed only by Rowan. Tamar let out several blood-curdling shrieks and went screaming from the room, her yelling heard all through the house. Warian leapt up from on top of Rowan like someone had jabbed him with a pike, looked madly around the room, before finally locking eyes on Rowan.

"You wait here," he commanded before grabbing a robe and rushing from the room. He had enough of his wits about him, though, to shut the door and close the lock.

As soon as he was gone, Rowan jumped up and snatched the keys from where they'd been kicked under the bed in the excitement. The door opened and Legolas walked in. Seeing her in her current state of undress and disarray, he quickly averted his eyes.

"My apologies, Lady Rowan. I--"

She ignored his embarrassment and rushed over with the keys.

"Don't be. We've got no time to lose." She dropped the keys in his palm and instructed, "Warian's room is straight that way at the exact opposite end of this hall. Beyond that, I know nothing."

Legolas assured her, "I am prepared."

"Glad someone is. Go, then. I'll meet you and the other two as soon as I can."

Not allowing himself to look anywhere but her face in order to preserve her dignity, Legolas nodded, then quickly turned and left the room. Will was just finished re-locking Tamar's room, slipping the key under the door. They'd have to bust it in, now, to get in.

"You've got the key for the maps?"

"Yes," Legolas answered, holding the ring up.

Will clapped his hands, adrenaline pumping, then replied, "Good. I'll go meet Kai, then. Good luck!"

They walked together quickly down the hall, then split ways, Will going downstairs and Legolas continuing silently. There were and they didn't even cast a second glance in his direction, no doubt figuring him one of the guests and too harried in the excitement to care if otherwise. It seemed the entire household was fleeing downstairs to join the chaos.

Warian's room was easy enough to recognize. Large mahogany doors decorated with gold trim and a mounted boar's head loomed down over him, watching his improper sneaking about. Legolas quietly reached out and pushed firmly on the door. They opened with little resistance, swinging forth to reveal an extremely elaborate room, almost eerily so.

Everything was built on a dramatic scale with towering ceilings spreading over grandiose mahogany furniture. The draperies, bedding, rugs, and chair cushions had all been sewn of a rich black velvet with gold and silver piping. Ornate carvings of animals, plants, and lavish designs littered ever wooden surface while long silken tapestries depicting gruesome battle scenes clung to the wall.

Legolas immediately set to searching for any sort of locked space in which the maps could be kept. Under the bed was empty; all the drawers contained nothing but books, a jewelry box proudly showed nothing save gold chains and precious stones. Still without the sought-for prize, Legolas changed his tactics and began searching the illogical places. He ran his hand along all flat surface, looked under the rug, checked the mattress.

Frustration was beginning to show on his face when the obvious dawned on him and he muttered, "Of course. This should have been the first place I looked." Carefully, he peeked behind each tapestry and, sure enough, found an iron box hidden in the wall behind the third from the door. He worked quickly to pull the box out and pop it open, pulling all the papers out and tucking them safely inside his tunic. There were still a couple trinkets in the box, though: a rose made of gold, two small stones carved like a turtle and a dog, and a glass key. Deciding that perhaps these items might have some sort of significance, he snatched them up as well before re-locking the box and returning it to the hidden cranny.

His task complete, Legolas wandered over to the window and glanced out. It was a mere level down to the ground --not very far and of an easily climbable stone-- and definitely a safer bet than trying to make his way through the house. Stepping out onto the ledge, he proceeded to gracefully descend like spring water over smooth stones. He landed lightly on the ground before jogging across the abandoned, sleeping yard to the line of trees. Only a couple seconds of following this winding path brought him to the barrack Kai had earlier pointed out as theirs. Sensitive ears easily picked up the impatient snorting and stomping of horses which Legolas used as his guide until reaching the designated spot.

Three horses stood in the clearing, the two Will and Legolas had brought along with one Kai had somehow managed to convince a tired slave he'd return to the stables as a favor. Kai had loaded the supplies Rowan listed into the saddlebags and currently lounged on the ground against a tree, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently. He sighed with a mix of bored and anxiety over whatever trouble Rowan was currently digging herself into. His mind was so intent on running over the possible demises Rowan could find for herself that he hardly looked up at Legolas's approach. Will, on the other hand, stood and paced a small area as he was prone to do when ready to get active and do something, rubbing his arms and clapping his hands together. He hurried over and asked if Legolas had seen Rowan to know how soon they'd be on their way.

"No, but be ready. There'll be no time when she eventually comes."

The entire scene went back to anticipatory waiting.

* * * * *

As soon as Legolas left, Rowan raced to the hanging closet, huffing with disappointment to see that her usual slave-garb was nowhere to be found. Only fancy dresses of silks and satins in various deep colors lined the interior --nothing that would serve well for traveling purpose.

She finally chose one that looked like it would hold up reasonably well to wear and tear. Crushed red velvet wouldn't be her first choice for a travel ensemble, but there wasn't time enough to linger, so she quickly threw it on, not waiting to straighten everything out before rushing from the room.

The halls were completely abandoned, everyone still downstairs pursuing Tamar who, from the shouts and hollers sneaking upstairs, was apparently leading them on a rather spectacular chase. Rowan mentally applauded the insane woman, grateful for the opportunity to run unseen from her room, down the hall, descend the stairs, and find her way to the library.

No candles or lamps were lit, giving the room an eery glow as it depended solely on the waning moon for its light. Long shadows stretched across the floor and walls, swaying to a soft breeze's music, their movement catching Rowan's eye and putting her on guard. Repeating her handy light trick, Rowan carried the small illumination to the table first, but there were no papers, books, or anything else there save a half empty jug of wine.

Obviously what she sought was not there, so she paused impatiently to search the room with narrowed eyes for any sort of files, detached papers, drawers, a desk. Not finding anything, she took to walking around and, behind a large shelf, came across several boxes full of files. Slave papers.

It was rather obnoxious trying to shift through one-handed but it had to be done if she was to read the often barely-legible ink. Rowan figured hers would be near the top and was correct in this assumption. Inside her file, all the papers she expected to find were present, holes and all. Kai's file was a little more difficult to locate, despite fervent searching, all the while becoming frustrated as time passed and she couldn't find the desired paperwork.

"Looking for something?" Rowan froze. With calm, calculated movements, she squeezed her light out and turned to face the arrogant Lord Thorof. His feet propped up on the table, his chair was rocked back on two legs, his fingers interlaced over his stomach. How had she not noticed him? "Kai's file, I presume?"

Rowan regarded him carefully for a moment before nodded slowly, "Yes." At her response, he reached over to the table and held the file up to show her, then tossed it back down beside him.

"Making a break for it?"

"Maybe."

"Well, good for you. You deserve to get away from this filth-pit," he nodded in her direction. "Taking Kai with you?"

"Maybe."

Lord Thorof chuckled, "You can tell me. I'm not going to go rat you out to Warian." He motioned to the file in her hand, "Yours. A pretty interesting read, actually. You're a unique person, Mistress Rowan. Are you going to destroy these?"

"Yes."

"I understand. No paper-trails, right? Where are you going, though? Any place special?"

Rowan was still watching him with confusion, not really understanding what he was getting at here, and slowly responded, "No, just away."

"Hm. Well." He didn't seem to know what to say next, but finally came up with, "Well, I wish you the best of luck in whatever you do. If you're ever around Scenmara, come see me."

A smile gradually crept over Rowan's face and, cautiously trusting that Lord Thorof was just being friendly as he had been earlier, she promised, "I will."

"Oh, and give this to your Kai. It mentioned it in his file." Rowan stepped closer and took the item he held out: a 14" dagger in an intricately-decorated sheath. The juxtaposition of iron and un-tarnished silver on the hilt worked well together, giving an otherwise simple dagger --though the hand guard was rather elegant-- a thoroughly elaborate appearance. Rowan pulled the dagger from its sheath and tilted it, admiring the perfect blade as it reflected moonlight in a perfect beam.

"It's beautiful," she praised, then looked back and asked, "It mentions this in Kai's file?"

Lord Thorof nodded, "Yes. It says he came here with it."

"Came here? From where?" Lord Thorof just handed her the file.

"Apparently you can read, regardless of the fact that it's forbidden, so you can see what the file says." Both looked to the library door as footsteps, pounding the floor, past. He quickly looked back to Rowan and urged, "You'd better go if you're going to get out of here. I'll distract anyone looking for you as long as I can. Go!"

Rowan smiled appreciatively, "Thank you."

"Remember, you promised to come visit if you're ever near."

"I did. Good-bye!" And so without further ado, Rowan clutched the dagger and two files close to her chest, then ducked out the picturesque library windows into the night.

In seconds she was to the tree-line, then to their barrack where Legolas was hiding, waiting. It was near impossible to see him as a cloud rolled over the moon, but they still met up and walked quickly through the trees to meet the rest of their group.

"Rowan! You're okay," Kai cried out upon seeing her, ignoring everyone's immediate command to be quiet.

She gave him a funny look and replied, "Of course I'm fine. I told you I would be."

"Are we ready to get going?" Will interrupted, glancing around the forest nervously, startling at every snapping twig or crunching leaf.

Instead of answering, Rowan asked, "Where are we going?"

"Back to Kirsoden?"

"We can't," Rowan shook her head. "As soon as Warian realizes I'm gone, he'll start looking for me. Kirsoden may be a big city, but he'd still easily track me down there."

Legolas suggested, "Then let's make camp outside the city, in the valley, perhaps. We can decide what to do from there in the morning." This was agreed upon, the idea of rest sounding even more inviting when Legolas answered Kai that the trip would take about two hours. Rowan took this opportunity to shove the files and dagger into a saddlebag.

Faint footsteps were shortly picked up by two of the four, sending the group into a slightly more rushed state. Everyone quickly mounted, Kai riding double with Rowan, and cast a final glance around the clearing to make sure nothing was being left behind.

"You've got the maps?"

"Yes."

"And the journal?"

"In the bag."

"So we're all set?"

"We're good to go."

With Legolas leading the way and Rowan bringing up the rear, they turned from the plantation and, mere moments before Warian's guards stepped into the clearing, all were gone, leaving no trace they'd ever even been there.

Chapter Six || Main || Chapter Eight