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than once and now his time was up. The reaper had come.
    His thoughts turned towards tomorrow. Nothing about Badron’s scheme made sense. The king had no love for his daughter, making it almost foolish to risk so many for her. Bahr began to think that the king did want a war. If that were true, whatever country caught in Badron’s sights was already doomed. He’d seen the Wolfsreik unleashed before. The result still haunted his dreams. The wolf soldiers of Delranan struck hard and fierce, not stopping until the enemy was thoroughly destroyed.
    Perhaps that was the reason he felt compelled to get off the boat and join the quest to bring Maleela back before leaving port. He felt guilty for lying to his friends, but they were both capable and professional men. Coll and Theed could take care of themselves. He hoped they did as much to take care of him. Otherwise… Bahr let the thought fade.
    His mind shifted to enigmatic thoughts of Anienam Keiss. The old sorcerer selectively avoided answering his questions while sparking more. In fact, Bahr recognized the entire conversation had been manipulated at his expense. He smiled. Caught like a bear in a trap. He knew, as did Anienam, that this quest had been chosen for him. And who was he to ignore destiny?
    “Why did you drag us to this part of town?” Dorl asked in a harsh whisper.
    Bahr looked over his shoulder. As good as they were he sometimes wished they were both mute.
    “Because I don’t trust Badron or Harnin. That one-eyed goat is pulling together the men he wants.  I am simply doing the same.”
    Dorl didn’t care for the answer. “Basically what you are saying is that we aren’t good enough to keep you alive?’
    The Sea Wolf was about to respond when Nothol cut him off.
    “He’s telling us he’s not going to stay on the boat. Aren’t you, Bahr?”
    He waved it off. “We can worry about this later. Right now I need to find an old friend.”
    Dorl went along. “What is this friend going to be able to do for us?”
    “Hopefully keep you two away from me so I can regain some measure of my sanity.”
    “We don’t have to be here,” Dorl cautioned. “Say the word and Nothol and I will be on our way to the nearest tavern.”
    Bahr’s shoulders slumped in mock defeat. “No. That’s not what I meant. You two have your special talents, and so does this man. We’re going to need all of the help before this comes to a head.”
    “Do we know him?” Nothol asked.
    Bahr half smiled. “I’m sure you’ve heard the name.”
    “Are you going to tell us or do we spend the night guessing?”
    Dorl knew getting Bahr mad was not a desirable outcome, but he had lost his patience.
    “Very well. His name is Boen,” Bahr said evenly, despite his rising anger.
    Nothol and Dorl stopped in their tracks.
    “Boen? The Gaimosian?” Nothol asked with disbelief.
    “The mercenary?” Dorl added.
    “I prefer to think of him as my friend.”
    The edge in his voice was sufficient to back them down.
    “Bahr, Gaimosians are almost as mythical as the Pell Darga. They might exist, but no one ever sees one. Why would one be hiding here in Chadra?” Nothol pressed.
    “Is your life perfect? Boen’s just fallen on hard times.”
    They rounded a corner in front of an old, rundown two-story building. A half-rusted sign proclaimed it to be the “Golden Lady.” Dorl somehow doubted any lady, golden or otherwise, had been inside for a long, long time. The Lady was in one of the worst parts of town, the part where men went when they didn’t want to attract attention. It was also the kind of place where a man’s enemies came to look for him. Even Badron’s night watch refused to come down this far after sunset. Bahr caught the subtle movement off in the shadows. He waved his companions back into the dark and watched. Four men in dark clothes were climbing up a trellis to the second floor.
    “Looks like we’re not the only ones looking for your friend,” Dorl whispered and