he would allow a source of wealth ta flourish that he did not in some way control?’
Sindris rose from the couch and walked across her plush study to a drinks cabinet. She poured two healthy portions of Scented Isle brandy and, returning to the couch, passed one to Jensen.
‘You have a direct approach with your views, Jensen of the Willow,’ she said after taking an elegant sip from her glass. ‘And although I would never admit this outside this room, it is a view that I and many members of the board share. Bane, indeed, is bad for business.’
Jensen raised his glass in a salute. Sindris mirrored the gesture.
‘You were intending to go somewhere with this?’ she asked, urging Jensen to continue.
‘I was. Obviously, we are both businessfolk so I was not going ta come out with some drastic notion or request a heroic action or appeal to yer conscience.’ Both resisted the urge to snigger at that. ‘However, wot I am requesting is a reasonable use of yer network.’
‘Go on,’ prompted Sindris.
‘Bane has placed a bounty on Charlie Keeper.’
‘Ah, the infamous proclamation. I’m familiar with it. My contacts have reliably informed me that Fo Fum has expressed an interest in the reward.’
Jensen paused with his brandy glass halfway to his mouth. ‘Fo Fum? That raises the stakes somewot.’
‘Indeed. Fo Fum is yet another character who makes business … difficult. Please do continue; we were discussing the proclamation, were we not?’
‘We were. I would like ta raise a proclamation of me own.’
Sindris raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow.
Jensen grinned, but continued. ‘But a discreet proclamation issued only within your network. I would like ta raise a considerable bounty ta be given as a reward for any news that successfully leads ta me and Charlie Keeper being reunited.’
Sindris considered the request, her face expressionless. ‘Excuse me for being so brash, but I must ask … Why is it so important that this Charlie Keeper remains out of Bane’s grasp?’
Jensen smiled grimly as he recalled their history. ‘I can think of many reasons why it would be prudent ta keep Charlie out of his grasp. I think the most pressing concern – in relation ta the Gilded Bank – is that her continued freedom ensures that Bellania remains out of Bane’s control, allowing businessfolk like ourselves a continued free rein. That and, of course, the healthy commission that I will give ta the Gilded Bank for aiding me in this service.’
Sindris raised her glass. ‘A toast to free markets.’
‘And commissions,’ said Jensen with a knowing grin.
Sindris chuckled.
‘Two more things,’ added Jensen. He paused as he looked down at his bedraggled clothing. ‘No, better make that three more things.’
‘How else can we be of service?’
‘A tailor and perhaps a bath?’
‘Not a problem,’ said Sindris, who all this time had politely avoided acknowledging Jensen’s road-weary look. ‘And your third request?’
‘A length of Thornwood, of Sylvarisian quality.’
‘Ah, that won’t be the easiest item to procure. I’m assuming that you had something special in mind?’
‘With Fo Fum’s arrival on the playing board? Yes, I will need something special with which ta even the odds. A length of Thornwood fits the bill perfectly. Do ya have access ta some?’
Sindris raised her glass again in respect of her esteemed customer. ‘All things are possible for patrons of the Gilded Bank.’
Crumble’s jaw dropped as he watched Charlie slam into the packed mercenaries, knocking them aside like bowling pins. He stared in disbelief as she broke tridents and swords, snatched thrown spears and daggers from the air and lashed at the largest of her foes with great whips of dark flame. The spectacle of it seemed unreal, like a painted battle of the furies brought to life right in front of his very eyes.
‘Crumble!’ shouted Nibbler, waking him from his dazed reverie. Spinning round he found the Winged One attacking three heavily armoured mercenaries with tooth and claw, while a fourth approached with a spread net.
Although he’d fought in Shatterstone tournaments before, Crumble had never been in a battle. Intimidated by the ferocity of it, not to mention all the fearsomely sharp weapons being pitched about, he hesitated.
‘Crack this!’ he cursed. Summoning not just his courage but his rudimentary Stonesong, he sprinted towards the fourth attacker with blue glowing fists, taking him by surprise. Making quick work of the net-bearer he ran to aid Nibbler, but the dragon already had the upper hand.
Wings rearing, Nibbler pointed at a reinforcement of five who were attempting to approach Charlie from behind. ‘Take care