William had to make a plan.

However, before he did anything, he had to heal people. Some woman had been beaten to a pulp and wouldn't say by whom. And there were children covered in bruises. A few people had broken fingers that had been crushed by thugs or had lost eyes to people they owed money to.

It just went on and on and he hated it. Rusara, William realized, had filtered who had been treated. Now, as he treated anyone who came, he could only wonder what people did to one another. Jehair had operated in this place and had been doing so for decades. What did that do to a person?

No wonder Jehair had such a low opinion of civilization. William wondered what the elf would think of his actions here.

Either way, William decided not to ask how people got their injuries. He just healed them and moved on.

A few times, he was asked to enter houses to help those who could not come to him. He came when asked and afterward went to speak to the guards.

"Excuse me?" said William.

"Yes, who are you?" asked the man, eyeing him carefully.

"I'd like to talk to you," said William.

"About what?" asked the man, seeing the armor.

"I'm from a concerned Lord in Artarq," said William. "We've heard the news from our sources about economic problems. Men have been forced off their lands. Mercenaries have been without work, all while merchants buy out their lives. I'm looking for more information." He wished dearly for a bath but had no time for that.

"Well, I don't know about merchants," said the man, looking down the street. "Me, though? I was a soldier in the Calishan Wars and fought in the Battle of Desora under Duke Vanion and many others. I came back here and found my farm had been stolen, and my family had been beggars. I worked as a caravan guard for a bit, but that wasn't good money.

"Eventually, Hawkthorne started hiring people here from caravans as they came in."

"Did he say why?" asked William. So, Hawkthorne's actions were common knowledge.

"Oh, we all figured it was some kind of takeover," said the man. "In our business, though, you don't ask that question. These days, all I have to do is stand on a street corner and watch merchants do their work.

"It's much better for my family; my wife was sick of moving. And my sons might be able to inherit something when I do. But the Babarassians are a group I could do without."

"And Hawkthorne, what do you think of him?" asked William.

The man looked to the others and back. He was not Harlenorian; he was an elf and looked disreputable. He had dark hair and was clad in green. His ears were scarred, and his eyes were narrow.

"You're a noble, so I assume you either want in or want him gone. Who are you, and what do you want?"

"I'm William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel," said William. "I was just passing through, only to find this place under heavy guard with many well-armed men. So I went to Lord Rius, and he told me a story of Reg Hawkthorne, who is, unfortunately, an ally, taking over his city.

"And doing so in my name.

"I think you can understand why I am concerned."

"Well, I imagine that means there will be some fighting," said the man. "More than usual, anyway."

"Probably yes, though I'd prefer to avoid it," said William. "I can't ignore Lord Rius being locked in his own home. Believe me; I'd much rather be heading down to the Tournament of Kings as I'd planned.

"So, at the moment, I'm trying to understand what's going on here from all perspectives."

The men looked doubtfully, then back. His men seemed uneasy, and William took that as a good sign. "Well, that is decent of you, milord, but we don't have much choice. Many warriors in this place came here to join the Calishan Wars. But they didn't get to Artarq before it ended.

"There are at least a thousand and three hundred by our count, though that changes daily. Some find work and leave the city; others die from the plague.

"Reg ordered us to try to keep track of their numbers."

"Is there a third group?" asked William.

"Alright, yes, there is a third group," said the man. "Some of the men here are not soldiers. When I see one, I know a professional soldier, and they aren't it. They aren't knights, either. Knights are all about honor and glory; soldiers have discipline and pride.

"These, though, like hurting people, and they're not from Harlenor. They're a bunch of thugs and mostly hang out on the docks. They've tried to rob merchants several times and break up local businesses. We wanted to intervene, but Reg stopped us. I'd say they're the most numerous, at least two thousand in number."

"Are they close to Reg?" asked William.

"No, Reg mostly spends his time drinking and gambling," said the man. "Most of his paperwork is done by a slavegirl, a very pretty Calishan girl who we have yet to catch the name of. She is a go-between for the merchants and people who need to talk to him. Now and then, you see her rushing up to him with some assignment or other and asking him to make a decision.

"We're pretty sure now that Reg is a front for someone.

"The brutes seem to be on hand for some other reason. At first, they mostly just levied fines on merchants for 'protection.' But more and more have been gathering among them. As well as some priests, most of whom hang out at the Healer's Guild and make contracts there. A lot of them have been shipping out, taking vessels north to Haldren."

"Has the loss of priests affected their prices?" asked William.

"No," said the man. “The Healer's Guild has a fixed price structure everyone must adhere to. Someone gives orders from on high, I guess. If you deviate from it, they kill you. A couple of local healers got forced into the guild. When they tried to give out some free healing on the side, they were found hanging from their doors."

"Have you considered doing something about this?" asked William.

The man bit his lip. "Well, there's doing the right thing, and then there is doing the right thing. Our word is our bond, and we must honor it."

"Was the contract with Reg's handlers?" asked William.

"No, just Reg," said the man. "Or so the word is. However, he has not been subtle."

William decided to answer that with another question as a cart moved by behind him. "If Reg declared your contact fulfilled and went home, would you?"

"Well..." asked the man. "We'd have to have a pretty good deal for that."

William crossed his arms and shook his head with a sigh. "This contract is a deathtrap. Sooner or later, King Andoa will get word about what is happening. Do you think your forces here can withstand an entire army? Without the goodwill of the population. Reg will be killed, and so will you."

"Why would he make a play like that if he didn't have a plan?" asked a man.

"Do you think it is his plan?" asked William.

"Alright, so let's say we'll go along with this," said the man. "What's your plan?"

William wasn't aware that he had become the scheming chessmaster. Given that he always lost at chess, this did not bode well. "Well, I intend to begin healing every person I can. Where can I find Reg?"

"I don't know," said the man. "But if you see a beautiful Calishan slavegirl in red, just follow her. Looks like a goddess. I'm Cacalan of Qor'Dana, but that was long ago."

"Thank you," said William. "I had powerful companions. Whose side were you on?"

"Well, I was with the Calishans who were to take Khasmir back," said Cacalan.

"That was nasty business. We should never have let it get that far. The detestable practices of the satyrs opened the door to those monsters."

"I'm sure they will have learned better defense henceforth," said William. "Some among them are great warriors with many virtues. Prince Kusher was a good friend and saved my life many times."

"I'll take your word for it, milord," said Calcalan.

William shrugged and parted ways with Calcalan. When he found them, they could hardly move, so he gave them some rations. Few seemed to be going to the Healer's Guild at all, so he spent his time looking for them. Occasionally, someone would ask him to come to heal someone in their home.

The utter repetition of the task was miserable. He kept having to stop himself from asking what happened to a person. It wasn't his business; he didn't want to live with the knowledge. William did not know how these women and children got their bruises.

He did not want to know!

"William, Babarassians are here," said Felix.

William looked up and, sure enough, saw them approaching. A man of perhaps twenty was at the head with a shorter beard. With him were others, and their clothes were better. However, several men with spears stepped before them, and their hands were set to weapons. "Stay where you are-"

"Hold. Let them through," said William, not seeing much in the way of hatred. He moved forward. “How may I aid you?"

That was how it went. He healed everyone who asked and many who did not. William became more aware of himself and realized how many people he had healed. He felt his shoulders shaking as he walked, thinking of them all. Reaching up to his cheek, he felt tears dripping down his cheeks.

Why?

Why was he crying?

And then he saw her.

She moved past him very suddenly with wide, swaying hips. She was clad only in a short, split red skirt on one side, held up by a sash. Her toned, tan midriff and long legs were bared. She wore a cloth top that showed off her supple arms and large breasts. Her hair was tied behind her head in a braid, and earrings were on either side of her head.

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There was something supernatural about her beauty, and people seemed to never be in her way. William immediately guessed that this was the woman the man had spoken of. He also realized his jaw had dropped. So he wiped the tears from his eyes. "Why is she dressed in such a way in public? It must be cold."

"Follow her," said Felix.

"I agree," said William. "That woman is a goddess, or I'm a fool."

But following her proved a lot more difficult than William imagined. For one thing, she seemed to disappear into crowds. Each time, he'd find more people who needed healing that he had missed before. Then he'd see her again and pursue her again.

As he began to catch up to her, more people in need came to him. It did not seem that she was slowing down or speeding up, merely elusive. Nor was there any real purpose.

Yet, in the end, William came on her by chance, seeing her out of the corner of his eye. She was approaching an orange-haired man who was more than a little overweight. His eyes had a sullen look to them, and he was drinking. Babarassians were waiting near him, likely from Emile.

"Master Hawkthorne, I've brought you something," said the woman.

"And why are you doing it here?! I'm busy?" said Reg, looking suddenly angry.

"I understand that, Master; however, I fear this cannot wait," said the woman. "If I were to delay in bringing it to you until you finished your revelry, I would be remiss in my duties." And she offered him a letter.

"Let me see that," said Reg. He read through it. "This...

"What the hell is this?"

"I do not know, Master. I do not read your correspondence save when bidden," said the woman.

"You don't know much, do you?" snapped Reg. "Get a response written to Arkan, tell him-"

"Master, not here," said the woman quickly.

"Shut up!" said Reg before striking her across the face. "Fix this, now. You think I keep you around only for your neckline! Put some damn work in!"

"Master, it may not be possible to do what you are asking," said the woman calmly. "We should not even be having this discussion here; if you return with me to the headquarters, we might-"

"Do it!" said Reg.

The woman nodded. "Yes, Master."

"Worthless, ungrateful..." Reg paused. "Ah, to hell with it!" And he went back to drinking alone.

William paused thoughtfully. "Rius is right on all accounts. Reg is a frontman." And so was Rius if something wasn't done.

"What makes you say that?" asked Felix with a laugh.

"He was all drunk and confident until he got a letter. He didn't have a problem with a slave going through his correspondence," said William. "As soon as he read the letter from Arkan, he became panicked and started shifting the blame on her.

"That means he's decadent and has no sense of personal responsibility. Nobody with those qualities could ever make it on their own."

"You forget an important detail," said a voice next to William's ear. He whirled around and found himself face-to-face with the slave girl. "He felt free to do this in the open, confident no one would stop him.

"Why do you think that was?" Then she smiled. "I'm sorry, I cannot wait. Destiny waits for no man." And she passed him by.

William decided she had to be monitored, especially since no one now paid her any heed.

"Felix, go after her now. Do not let her out of your sight. She's the one we have to keep an eye on. Meet up with me later."

"As you wish," said Felix. "I'll ask anyone I meet about your location."

They broke off, and William hurried through the streets toward Jehair. As he did, he kept running into people who needed his help. Did this never end? The first time you healed a group of people, you felt a real sense of accomplishment. But you began to realize that no matter how many people you healed, someone would always be sick.

So you just kept doing it, and it became ever more frustrating until it got easier. Even then, now and then, William felt the urge to look the other way. To not go down into an alley where someone was sick and heal them. But he knew if he passed the alley by, he'd never see them again.

So he walked on. "All of you get somewhere safe quickly. I have reason to believe things may get nasty in the streets soon.

"Those of you with nowhere else to go should go to the temples and ask for sanctuary. This is an emergency, and no time can be wasted on this matter. Go."

"Thank you," said someone.

William found Jehair, who seemed to have little interest as she sat on the steps. Her golden braids were falling down one side of her neck, over her ample breasts. Her scythe was at her feet, and her eyes were closed as if in meditation. Wondering what she was thinking, William halted.

Then he noticed noticed a scarred, middle-aged man in the shadow. He walked toward him, wondering if he was sick. But the man from before stepped in front of him. "Hold up, please; this area is off-limits by order of the Paladin Order. I am Sir Suran."

"I'm here on behalf of Lord Rius," said William, forgetting to introduce himself. "Now, please step aside. I am in haste."

"And who are you?" asked Suran. "What's so important?"

"William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion, Paladin of Elranor. I'm a veteran of the Khasmir Campaign," said William. Who was this man to bar passage to an agent of a Lord in that Lord's city? "Step aside; I have urgent business."

"A lot of people fought in the Khasmir campaign," said Suran. "I'm not sure I can-"

Jehair stood up and moved forward. "Hold on a moment, Suran; this is our ally. He is aligned with Amenos and Haldren. You need not fear him."

Suran looked back and stepped aside. "Of course, Jehair."

He stepped aside. William felt insulted and infuriated at having his path barred by a foreigner. He supposed his heart might be in the right place, but he wasn't sure he trusted him.

One didn't trust a foreigner without sufficient proof.

William looked at Felix and thought about how that attitude matched up with him. "Jehair, you're here at last. I wasn't expecting Paladins to be here."

"Well, they were in the area, and Tanith Telus recruited them," said Jehair. "We've set off several plans early, and Kata has aligned herself with them."

William looked to the other man, the one who was behind Suran. Could he have missed him? It didn't matter. Moving forward, he kneeled and healed him. "Stand and be healed.

"Are you a warrior?"

"Yes, I fought in Khasmir and came back penniless. I got robbed," said the man with a bitter smile. "I'd complain further, but I don't want to speak ill of the dead."

"Well, I expect you could be of some service here," said William, drawing out a dagger. It was an expensive dagger, and he couldn't easily replace it. "Take this. You'll probably need something to defend yourself." Remembering that Khasmir was House Gabriel's responsibility, he removed some silver coins. "And consider this belated payment for fighting the hordes of hell."

Why had he given that dagger? And what good would the money do him? There weren't enough coins in the world to feed the hungry.

"Thank you," said the man. I'll remember this. I'm Uther of Walesan, and I'm not from around here." William looked at him momentarily and saw that he was large, had an unkempt beard, and had graying hair. His eyes were desperate but had a kind of strange wisdom to them.

"I need you to remember to get to the temple of Elranor," said William. And get anyone who doesn't have a place to stay or hide there. Things could worsen, and someone might decide to loot the place in the fighting.

"Though I don't think it'll come to that."

"Right," said the man, and he hurried off. "I'll see if I can get some of these children off the streets at least. Maybe seek some holy orders.

"This land needs priests. Just like mine."

William looked back to Suran, and another Paladin, clad in shining armor, was giving him an odd look. It was vaguely accusing, almost. One was far older than Suran, and one had a black beard. "You're using your powers as a tool for your advancement," one said disgustingly.

"And you are?" asked William as he healed another veteran.

"I am Gavkin," said the man. "I am a Paladin of Bretus here to assist in this crisis on behalf of my friend Dunmoore. Such womanly displays of false compassion ill befit a man of noble birth."

"Then I won't keep you from your duties," said William as he healed another Bretusian in the gutter. He had no desire for a confrontation. "Let us each leave a man to their custom.

"For we are both Paladins of Elranor and have been chosen to serve in different ways."

"I will," said Gavkin before unslinging a hammer and moving off. As he did, he healed a beggar in a motion of rage as if the act was humiliating. Perhaps he thought of it as much. William had to admit he understood where he was coming from. If he'd been called in from another world and had to do this…

Well, it would not have left him in a good mood.

"Don't hold it against him," said Suran. "Gavkin is a veteran of many wars. Things have put him under a lot of stress."

"I don't hold it against him," said William. "Everyone has been under stress. Jehair, what have you found?"

"Well, all this seems the usual sort of civilized barbarity one ought to expect," said Jehair. "I've had a little better luck. Behind us is the slaver's enclave, where their cargo is stored and ready for shipment. However, I have spoken to those who live near it. It seems that many of those who enter this place do not return.

"At present, the doors are barricaded and locked. There was a lookout, but he went inside with a delegation. Several Babarassian leaders seemed to have fallen out, and some were left in a huff. A few ships had already left. They released their slaves before they did without causing the crisis. Others have taken the slaves with them.

"Still more are making last-second sales."

"Why would people who enter this place not return?" asked William.

"There are several possible reasons," said Jehair. Priestesses of Zigildrazia have been much more common since the fall of Zigilus. They often practice child sacrifice. One which fuels their priests' spells in stone circles within the woods. But that's illegal, and they've been hunted for it, so a secretive source of sacrifices would be logical.

"However, I suspect some of them are far darker than others. Do you not sense it, child?"

William paused, looked up, and focused on what he felt. As he did, he realized there was a kind of darkness around here. It had not been visible on the surface, with the press and the pain of the diseases. But with many cured, William could now perceive the miserable horror within the place.

"A blackness," said William. "Something is going on in there."

"Do you plan to storm the place single-handed?" asked Jehair.

"No," said William ." But whatever is happening here is likely connected to the other events. Jehair, I want you to stay here and ensure no one gets out of that place."

"And where are you going?" asked Jehair, raising an eyebrow.

"To work miracles and punish the unrighteous," said William. "The Healer's Guild is the main concern."

Suran paused. "So you're going by yourself?

"Let me accompany you. You might need help."

"That won't be necessary," said William, wondering when they had become friends. A moment ago, Suran had been hostile to him. Had he misinterpreted William's behavior?

Did it have something to do with Uther? Suran had barred his way but hadn't seemed aware of the man. Perhaps some racial contempt for Walesans?

"If you want to be of service, you can take Jehair's place," said William. "I don't think we'll need four people to keep the place contained. As long as they don't get the slaves out of this place, we can free them later."

"Do as he asks, Suran," said Jehair, standing up. "I've someone to look out for. Besides, I am quite an accomplished healer myself."

"Then why didn't you heal anyone before?" asked Suran.

"I'm neutral in the affairs of mortals," said Jehair as though she were a god. "Save insofar as my obligations require me to intervene, of course. My dominion is nature. Reducing the surplus population would solve more problems than it would cause."

William laughed despite himself. "Well, at least you're honest about it."

At that moment, Tanith came by, and with her was a large force of Furbearers. They held spears, and Kata was at her head. She was wearing a Babarassian scimitar at her side, though it looked strange on her. Tanith brushed aside a strand of hair and hugged him.

Ow.

She was wearing armor, and it slammed into his ribs. She broke the embrace.

"Will!" said Tanith.

"Oh, Tanith," said William. "Why are you in such a good mood?"

"I dunno, just feeling welcome," said Tanith.

"I finally found you," said Kata. "And you're here too, Jehair."

"Kata, is all well?" asked Jehair.

"Amenos and Farwa asked us to reinforce this place," said Kata. "They want us to assault it once some more men get here.

"They're afraid the slavers might be able to get their cargo out some other way. Or worse, execute them."

"Well, don't take it lightly," said William. "Most merchants go armed, and these men live in terror of their cargo. You'd better do it right away. Demand that they open the door, and give them time.

"Give them ten seconds, and if they don't open up, kick the door down and subdue everyone inside. You'll have to be prepared to kill."

"Is it necessary to slay these people," said Suran. "Couldn't there be a better way?"

"People who speak about their virtues usually don't have many," noted Jehair. "Who would you have commanded us, William?"

"You are in command, Princess Kata," said William. "If you intend to clear the door, I recommend the Paladins take the front while your people bring up the rear. You don't have the same armor, and they have more experience and training."

Then he looked to the others. "Tanith, Jehair, let's go."

Tanith pattered Suren on the back. "...It was nice seeing you again, Suran.

"Keep up the good work."

"Thank you," said Suran, not responding at all to the barb. "Sorry if I caused any trouble."

William halted. "It is of no concern."

Wonderful, yet more busy work.