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[Thraxas]

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Itannar ascended the stairs and pushed aside the carved wooden shoji screens to enter the office of his liege at Covenant Castle. He had been urgently summoned; the message saying simply, "Come at once to the Castle!" He had not brought with him the Will of Thrax, deliberately. He had other plans for that.

Thraxas sat in his usual place; upon an exact replica of Lord British's throne. He looked disheveled and blood stained the sleeve of his shirt. He was barefoot and his armor lay strewn about the room as if he had removed it in a fit of pique. Spotting him, Thraxas simply pointed to one of the chairs opposite him at the table and continued to remove what remained his bloodied armor. "Sit down please. I have much to tell you," he said, curtly.

Itannar complied, seating himself in a relaxed and comfortable manner as he always did. His hand strayed to his chin where he placed one finger across it. "What is it milord?"

"Look at this!" Thraxas spat, tossing a small piece of parchment in front of him.

Itannar picked it up and read what was legible from it:

"...your rates are quite steep, much higher than other mercenaries, but we understand you can get the job done. They will be in Yew, Trammel, at 8 p.m. Kill them both to secure your earn..." The common was quite crude, as if a child or someone not well versed in writing it had composed it. He sat it down on the table.

"What is this?" Itannar inquired. "It speaks of hiring mercenaries."

"This is what it is about!" Thraxas barked. He stood up and tore off the tattered remains of his shirt. A large laceration ran from near his wrist up past his elbow toward his shoulder. His chest bore the scars of blade wounds that were only slowly healing. "I nearly died, is what! The Magnate Isk and myself were in Yew today and elvish thugs tried to kill us! Fortunately they didn't seem too keen to do the job. We survived, but barely. Evidently one of them failed to destroy the letter sent to them, or else a piece of it got tangled up in one of their robes and fell off; I don't know. But that was found on the ground not far from where I fell. Clear evidence of an elvish conspiracy from Heartwood!!"

Itannar shook his head. "I am sorry for this milord, but I must disagree with your assumption. Anyone could have hired those mercenaries. Even if you don't have many enemies, the Magnate does."

"No! Look at the symbol there... a gold leaf! It was elves I tell you... elves!! They hired someone... could be humans, I don't know... but they tried to kill us!"

"You need to get more salve on those wounds, milord... they look severe."

"I... we... are lucky they didn't use the poison that was used against my brother!"

"I would say so."

Thraxas glared at him. "Well, what are you going to do about it?!"

"Anything you order me to do, sire," Itannar calmly replied.

Thraxas winced in pain. "I want daily patrols of the township and spies watching the Heartwood moongate. I want you to hire spies or whoever you need to plant inside their... tree... to find out what is going on there. If anything else happens, more severe measures will be necessary."

Itannar glanced back at the parchment. "These mercenaries... they are obviously an elite force, very expensive to pay for according to this. Any idea who that might be?"

Thraxas sat back down. "Only one group might fit that bill: Infinite, led by Cal Hurst... but I cannot believe it. I have not seen them in action, but have heard that they do not hide behind masks or costumes when they take a job... they don't care who sees them or knows what they do."

Itannar nodded. "Still, it might be good to talk to him. I will see if I can."

Thraxas shrugged. "Do whatever you think is necessary, but if you wish to forestall a war, make sure the streets of Yew are safe for humans."

The Archwarden rose and bowed, then went to fulfill his lord's requests.
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"If a criminal has what you want, you do business with him."