Around sunset a storm of late summer rain whipped out of the east, and as a result the company decided to risk a night at an inn. They pressed through the sheets of water to a shelter below a small copse of trees. "You should change." Devrim told Aurora over the sound of the rain. "I can lend you a shirt and trousers."

"Why?" Aurora did not understand.

Junayd answered her. "There's a small town up ahead with an inn. Four men traveling together will draw less suspicion than three men and a lady. The inn is above a tavern. Drunk men are stupid men," he said with smirk.

It made some some sense. While women were free to do as they chose, it wasn't common for them to travel with a bunch of men. People would automatically assume that she had hired them to escort her, and that would raise questions as to her identity. She could enter separately from them and request a room, but two sets of strangers in a tiny town on the same night might be equally curious. Aurora pushed back her hood enough that the men could see her face. "Fine, give me the clothes and a place to change."

After Aurora's wardrobe change, she looked like a young boy in a cloak. As no one could see her face with the hood up, they could only judge her by her slim build and trousers. It was a decent disguise. The four travelers sought out the stable behind the tavern and tended to their horses. Although the Empress did not usually care for all her horse's needs, tonight she did exactly as the others did to make sure Berry was bedded down properly. "At least it's warm and dry in here," Junayd nodded approvingly. "It bodes well for the condition of the inn."

They quickly traversed the gap between the stable and the inn, shaking off their cloaks as they came under the awning of the second building. With a deep breath, Devrim pushed open the door. As the following day was rest-day, many of the men and some women of the town were gathered for a drink and some merriment. The raucous laughter filled the room almost as much as the smoke from the fireplace. The room was warm with the fire and unwashed bodies, and Aurora struggled not to cover her nose from the stench. She was glad no one could see her face or they might have been offended by her disgust.

They made their way over to the counter where a man was looking on all the festivities with a happy expression. Days like these were good for business, and the owner was so busy tallying profits in his head that he didn't see the foursome enter. He saw them now and gave them a friendly welcome, "Hello! I haven't seen you gentlemen around here before."

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Devrim raised his hand in greeting. "Greetings innkeeper. We would like rooms for the night."

The innkeeper scratched his chin. "We don't get many visitors this way. Most press on to one of the larger cities just west of here." There was a question and a hint of suspicion in the innkeeper's words.

"We were driven off course by the storm." The grey-eyed man waved away his accusation.

The innkeeper accepted his explanation. "'Fraid I only have two rooms. We are a small establishment, after all. My name's Gerald."

Devrim shook Gerald's forearm across the bar. "Two rooms will be fine. Beggars can't be choosers," he gave the colloquialism with a weak smile. With a flick of his wrist, Devrim tossed a bag of coins that Gerald instantly took and stowed in his waist band. The innkeeper didn't have to count it to know it was far more than he would have charged them.

"It's a pleasure doing business with you. Please sit and have a drink on the house while I have the rooms prepared." Gerald grinned widely.

As the group made its way to a nearby table, Aurora whispered in her most manly sounding voice, "He seems nice."

Nurlan chuckled, "Everyone's nice when you are paying them. It's when the money runs out that you find the true character of a man." They took their seats at a round table, and mugs were quickly brought by a waiter. Aurora was grateful that they brought her tea instead of alcohol; she still couldn't stomach the smell of strong drink. They sat quietly in the corner eyeing the room carefully. The other patrons had stopped their conversation momentarily when the group had entered, but they quickly lost interest and returned to their own entertainment. All except one.

"Incoming behind you, Nurlan," Junayd warned.

"I saw him," the other soldier confirmed as he fingered a knife at his belt. The men had brought swords, but left them hidden in their saddles. Swords were mostly only carried by the military, and as none of them were in uniform, it would have looked out of place. Nurlan had a half dozen knives around his waist, but they were obscured by the cloak he was wearing to repel the rain. The man approached with a slightly tilted walk.

"I haven't seen you around here," he slurred to no one in particular at the table.

"I'm surprised you can see anything at all," Junayd said under his breath. He couldn't abide drunkenness; it brought back painful memories. Nurlan shot him an angry look, and Junayd quieted.

"Who are you?" The drunk man asked, this time toward Nurlan.

Nurlan smiled depreciatingly. It was a strange look on the large stalky man, and she sensed that Nurlan was giving the stranger a false sense of security. "We are travelers just passing through, friend. We don't need any trouble."

"I'm Jarog, and I run this little town."

"Ha!" Came boisterous laughing from another table. Aurora noticed it was the table that Jarog had just left. Obviously he thought he had more power than his friends did.

"Shut up, you idiots!" Jarog called. He turned on his heels and lost his balance slightly. Catching himself on the edge of the round table by Devrim, Jarog breathed into the man's face.

Devrim wrinkled his nose. 'I don't think any of your friends is the idiot,' he thought. Aloud he said gently, "Move along, friend. We are just enjoying a quiet drink."

Jarog paused for a moment. He remembered hat Gerald had gone upstairs to prepare their rooms. "If you are here for the night, you should pay the town tax. You can pay it directly to me." His crooked smile framed his crooked nose. Everything about this man was crooked. "How much?" Devrim asked, ready to be rid of him.

"Everything you've got," Jarog announced confidently.