There were many things Aleci was not fond of in Imruk. He would know, he kept a list. The giant cats, they were first on the list, massive beasts that prowled through the streets, possibly capable of eating the tiny lapdogs the ladies kept with them in the Capital. The second was the disagreeable winter, desperate on chilling anyone foolish enough to step outdoors. The third was the food, Imruk wasn't known for their spices, and the chief Aleci stayed with, Icanne, seemed confused at the idea of flavor.

The beauty of the Imrukian mountains, though, that Aleci couldn't deny. He'd spent days in Llandy pondering the difficulty of building a road up to one of its peak, just to see if they could conquer the heights. Kaeso had shook his head at Aleci's ideas asking if Aleci would also like to jump down as well, just to see if his body echoed upon impact. 'No one lives up there', Kaeso had said firmly, 'who would you be helping?'. 'Engineering science, as they are so hesitant to take on real challenges,' Aleci had declared. That had earned him a firm slap from Kaeso, who'd stormed away, wrapping his cloak around himself.

They all look the same to him, mountains, but the Imrukians had stories for everyone of them. He'd never asked what the stories were for the one they were approaching, he could hear Edon excitedly telling Domerc about it.

"What is it called?" Aleci said, pointing to the mountain range in front of them.

"The mountains of Llanfairf," Finne said, more to himself than Aleci.

"Llanfairf?" Aleci repeated, struggling with the words, "Llanfair?"

"It's very beautiful in the spring," Finne said, "it's not as dead looking. I don't know, were you here in the spring?"

"I had other things on my mind," Aleci admitted.

"Ah," Finne said, turning away from the view, "we can go now."

There was a finality to Finne's statement, like closing a door. Aleci glanced at the ground, uncertain as to what he ought to say. If there'd been a statue of Mytea, which there usually was at the border crossings, he would have distracted himself by giving an offering. But Imruk wouldn't be a part of the Empire, he doubted it would even adopt the Empire's Gods and Goddesses, the most Imruk had done was temporarily surrendered as a vassal state. A state led by an aging ruler, thought Aleci, recalling how white Icanne's hair was and how his pockmarked hands trembled. The old man's mind was as sharp as ever, and Aleci could only hope that he'd set up his inheritance properly. Icanne's rivals had been caught unaware and driven off, and Icanne had signed a deal with the ' barbarians' as he'd put it, to do so.

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Aleci wasn't sure if the price was worth it, but who was he to tell the men in their high towers what to do?

He hadn't been exactly welcomed in Imruk, but he managed the tongue well enough to receive a lukewarm welcome when he wasn't in his Praefect garb. He'd even grown a beard, which, now that he thought of it, he ought to shave off. The last thing he needed when he came to collect his earnings for his two years' time was to look slovenly.

"If you wish," said Aleci, noticing that Finne kept casting glances back even as he told Aleci he was done looking. "Would you like to visit?" he asked suddenly, "Not Llandy, I came to Glangarth's house and he's quite some distance away from Llandy. That's where I bought the fiddle . I think I was swindled but I'm no expert, how would I know how it plays? Would you-"

"You presume that I would like to stay with you," Finne said tersely.

"No, no!" Aleci shook his head, "I was just.... Thinking out loud you know. I do that. I just thought it was… different is all, I've never thought fondly about returning to a place. I didn't-"

He saw a half smile flicker on Finne's face, "You ramble when you're nervous." Finne observed. "I don't want to disappoint you, Aleci. I don't want-" Finne looked away, "I don't want to give you false hope of anything-"

It was in Aleci's nature, and his mother would swear to this, to interrupt a speaker at the worst possible moment.

"Don't worry," Aleci nodded earnestly, "you won't give me false hope about my musical skills, you've seen how Domerc laughed, I doubt you can teach me anything."

That earned him a startled laugh from Finne. He shook his head disbelievingly at Aleci, "I cannot work a… what do you call it, miracle ."

"I would like to continue our arrangement," Aleci said in a rush. "I like your company and I would hope that you like mine. You're free to leave anytime you like-" he reflexively tightened his grips on the reins and Sage pawed the ground irritably.

The last time someone had looked at him with that combination of hope and distrust was when he'd tried to coax Myia, then a flea bitten puppy with a torn ear, from the trash heap. His mother had wrinkled her nose in disgust at the sight of the hound, but conceded, after they both cleaned her up, that Myia did have a pretty set of eyes. Green eyes, Aleci thought, flustered. He did have, as his men would put it, a particular affinity for that color. Of course, that had resulted in them trying to send green eyed maidens his way as well in Imruk. Aleci now suspected Domerc had won the steadily growing betting pool.

"You drive a hard bargain," Finne said finally. "Can I break our… agreement at any time?"

"Yes," Aleci nodded his head, privately relieved. "Yes, of course."

Finne looked taken aback by his declaration, "If you say so."

"I do," said Aleci, "and I would hope to prove it to you, by the time we've reached the Capital."

"You are not an honest man?" said Finne, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't trust anyone who claims to be honest outright," Aleci said.

"Honesty isn't a talent?"

"No, it's a trait."

Finne gave him a bemused look, not the first one, Aleci observed. "There's a difference?"

It was quite sad, thought Aleci, that Finne looked bewildered at his statement. "There is," Aleci said firmly, reaching out to take Finne's hands, "and I would hope that you see it in me."

Sage took that particular moment to jostle him, whinnying angrily. Finne's surprise laughter, though, when Aleci finally righted himself, cursing his luck, was worth it.