02.

Faris enquiries about the foreign fabric with tailors of the stone city to no avail. With all mainstream revenues checked off, Faris follows the laughter and duff drums that emanate from the Nakhflay camp for leads. Tall dome tents, colourful rugs, exotic spices and outdoor cooking contrast gothic churches and white Baroque streets of the rest of Vatala.

Faris joins the shushing crowd by the fire right on time to hear Veryth sing. Holding everyone's gaze, dressed in traditional blue with Ottoman trim, gracefully stood before her people calm and relaxed. An audience of sincere smiles, warm families, close partners, tamed birds and high seated elders. Tankers of fruit juice and tea cups are flowing, no one's wooden bowls are less than half full of rabbit and lentil stew.

*Slow melodious humming from the crowd *

"It began under a moon,

Hundreds of years ago,

For the love of one woman two warriors tried to woo.

She had died young in life,

But a spell trapped her soul,

And the masters of the night without her were not whole.

Both had made a pact,

Neither one of them could die,

Except by their own magic or the light of the sky,

In a battle of honour,

The two warriors fought,

Over decades many ways of the blades they self taught.

Growing ever quicker,

Never pausing for breath,

For the cursed of the Earth could never truly taste death.

Fated to duel,

An eternity without rest,

For both are ever bound till one of them are best.

Unbreakable blades,

For unchangeable ways,

While time had its effect over endless dark days.

In a tomb still they duel,

For some fate can be cruel,

If one of them escaped the whole world they would rule."

Veryth smiles at her audience in a moment of praising silence before the voices of Merry sound off again. Children take the hands of Veryth, bringing her to sit with them amongst fur cushions lay upon a large traditional rug. Nearby Faris is asking Talib, the greatest merchant for luxury foreign fabric for any useful information.

"Faris! You're here."

Veryth smiles.

"How did you know?"

A slightly red Faris replies.

"You always carry the smell of vanilla, amber, oud with minute traces of rose." She smiles.

"One day I may need someone with your talents."

"Singing?"

Veryth ask with a gentle laugh.

"Maybe..."

Faris responds in kind,

"I am sorry, I know I've not shown my face lately and I'm sorry that it's work that has brought me here."

"No need to explain yourself here, we are family."

She says with a smile and nod.

Faris's gaze lowers in sadness for a moment and raises his smile and voice back into the atmosphere.

"I needed to ask if you heard anything that might be relevant to the missing person the guards reported last full moon. Only lead I have is Talib's nephew and niece are supposed to be coming soon."

"I know no one has seen Lady Daniella for the last few days, Mayor Baldwin has had his private security planted around the city lately. I doubt she's gone outside the walls though, but then again, I've heard her father is far from the sympathetic type."

"Are you sure? No one said anything to me."

"Of course, they wouldn't. The Mayor is more concerned with suppressing the embarrassment of his daughter running away than he is about finding her. Poor girl."

"I'll look into that. Thank you."

"My husband is already waiting for you there."

Faris smiles and places his palm over his heart and Veryth nods in kind.

-

Approaching the black metal fence, Faris and Axil look at the grounds. Large land with trees of varying fruits, large stone flagging curved towards a stone manor three storeys high. Large windows, wide doors, a glorious barn and a full stable of prestige horse breeds in various colours. The two are invited in and wait long enough to finish their coffee. Faris checks how long is left for prayer as he pulls from his left pocket a pocket watch.

"Lovingly eternally bound”

Faris whispers, reading the Arabic inscribed on the case.

Comparing against the time of the clock, the black Arabiya numbers contrast beautifully against the steel inner workings and cogs while the other half fuwell-fedas a compass. Winding the crown of his pocket watch the wide door opens by the hand of a well fed, excellently dressed (albeit his cravat slightly to the side) man with barely a hair of his balding head out of place.

"Come, let's talk in the study."

Mayor Baldwin says to the investigators who Follow his broad bother into an office of dark wooden furniture, rows of books and brass trims centred by a large antique desk where they sit.

Mayor Baldwin lifts the cigar box from his desk and offers his guest first pick before cutting off a tip and striking a thick match.

"Look, it is no secret my daughter was, well, she was fastidious, .."

The Mayor Baldwin says, lighting his cigar.

Axil gives Faris a confused look not sure to interpret with disgust or sympathy while trying not to laugh as is default under less formal circumstances.

"Difficult."

Faris covertly whispers trying to maintain discipline as the Mayor continues;

"...For years she has hated me and sought every opportunity to seek revenge upon me for the rumours of peasants."

He says with great pain.

"You know of what I speak: that Daniella is illegitimate."

He shakes his head, snarling to hide his tears as he pours a glass of brandy for himself and taking a gulp, offering his guest who politely refuse as he continues.

" She always believed the lies no matter how hard I tried to convince her it was not true. I knew she found such an accusation impossible to bear but I did not realise she hated me for it... less than she hated herself."

"Why did she believe the stories about her father?"

Faris asks.

Baldwin takes a puff of his cigar and explains.

"It was not the commoners that convinced her, it was my late wife. Enya's last words to Daniella were

'You are not mine, you never were and I never loved you!'

Daniella from that day believed what she had been teased about her whole life. She always thought it was because her mother was so cruel towards her that people assumed she was the result of some unfortunate whore encounter. The truth is Enya was not her mother nor I her father...

When I was young I fell in love with the maid of my father's house, Hannah."

The mayor says exhaling a cloud of smoke with a face of lost joy.

"She was graceful, humble, she worked hard but never stopped humming and beaming. Hannah was like an angel to me, so full of optimism despite being both poor and a servant and I was just a covetous spoilt brat, unlike my brother. My brother was but a few years older yet far more sophisticated than I could have ever appreciated. He was courageous, honourable, handsome and caring,.."

The mayor lowers his head in shame, taking a sip from his glass.

"..He wanted to comfort people while I only sought to control them.

My father and Mother always taught me how to be a Lord; how to walk, talk, dress and think. To remind others of their inferiority and extend my own superiority. Me and Darius were nothing alike yet he loved me more than anything. I thought Hannah would have been attracted to my presence and status given her low casting but she never once noticed me. One day, I confided in Darius and he told me that I

'need not worry as Father had in fact negotiated for the hand of the daughter of a noble both youthful and beautiful.'

I knew that no lady of status would appreciate my choosing how a maid would and felt angry my parents had negated my preference in favor of their own. Yes, I wanted status, land and wealth but little did I realise I wanted love too. As the days towards the day I marry Enya passed, I noticed my brother humming, humming the same song as Hannah and I realised why she never noticed me.

I was jealous and felt betrayed but more than anything I was vexed about how I did everything to please my parents while he never tried but he got to choose who he may wed! I immediately told my Father knowing he would put an end to the shame upon our family.

Father awaited my brother's return in fury and the moment he entered the dining room things changed; Darius confessed that they had loved each other for years, that they had already married in secret a few days prior, he said he did not care about land or inheritance and that he had never wanted to be like our parents. I listened shamelessly with joy as they yelled, feeling pride of not making such a big mistake as if he was the one in error and I true.

Early morn my brother woke me to say goodbye before the men my father called took him to join the military, telling me he loved me and was so sorry that he was in love with my crush and that she loved him just as much... He was sorry because he married somebody I had a childish crush on."

The mayor shakes his head in upset and shame.

"That,.. it was the last time we ever spoke.

I espoused only a few days later but through those days I began to despise the young man I had become. My whole life my parents never loved me the way my brother had and for the first time I felt disgusted with myself.

After a while my brother's wife came to my home, it was late, she was cold and crying. My wife knew about my crush as the guilt of my mistake leaked into my supper talks which were of no favour to a new alliance. She showed me a letter, the last letter a wife wants to read; a soldier's letter to his widow as is written by every soldier after training just in case they fall. It was my fault. It was me who caused her this pain when she could have been happy with my great brother. They were supposed to be happy together.

She told me she was with child and begged me to take the child in once born so they could have a better life than that of a maid, how could I refuse? Enya would not agree but she did not know my brother the way I did nor share my guilt. I was at the birth and promised to love and raise my niece as my own against every protest of my wife whose resentment only grew over the years we found ourselves unable to have any children of our own.

I never told Daniella the truth because to me she was my daughter and I did not have it in me to tell her otherwise. I would rather she hate me as a father than love me as an uncle. I sacrificed and I have lost yet all I own cannot bring a smile in place of a tear, nothing can compare to all I have lost."

"You should have told her!"

Axil remarks much to the disapproval of Faris.

Faris stretches a hand towards Mayor Baldwin and tells him

"we are sorry for what pain you must be going through, Godwilling we will do our best to find her in good health. She sounds like a survivor and survivors never give up."

Mayor Baldwin takes the handshake in desperation and almost hopelessly replies

"I hope you are right gentleman, I need you to be. I am not a good man but she is more good than the people here merit."

giving one last look in the eye he ask with all the trust he has.

"Please, find her."

Leaving the estate both Faris and Axil share a silence in hope the two missing person cases are not connected. Faris strokes his beard with a sad look.

"Right! Let's eat!"

Axil exclaims, breaking a long uncomfortable silence.

"God Willing. Anything you have in mind?"

Replies Faris.

"Lahmacun followed by Dondurma sounds good to me. My wife managed to get some sahlep and mastic a few days ago from one of the passing traders."

"Its a bit late now to make ice-cream is it not?"

"She told me to invite you and the 'little one' over this morning but I forgot till a moment ago."

Faris smiles and shakes his head.

"Let's go. I'll get the 'little one' and meet up at yours."

-

Murmurs slither from the congested corner of the bragging dragon. A loud drunk larger than the others has drunk enough vigour to exorcise the "wench" of her possession.

"Oi, you, woman! According to our runaway storyteller friend you are Nyla of Sunnyfarm. Well, is that right or are you just some..."

pausing with a face of disgust as he tries to come up with a word

" ...whore."

Nyla's eyes raise from the bowl blinded by rage. Her right hand grips the sword into a 180 arch slashing the pig's throat spraying the tavern red. The barmaid smiles at the fall of a long-time prayer being answered in blood.

The marauders stand to surround the silent figure brandishing swords, daggers and axes. Nyla advances blade first one two three four moves four kills gliding to throat five. Murderers push closer to the eye of the storm and fall as every strike is answered in death. Panic rises as the bard and locals make for the door. Nyla weaves through the blades as her sword floats through air and flesh like tapestry, no parry nor block only kissing imperilled skin In song.

The robbers, locals, the bard all slaughtered under the same shadow.

Remnants of twenty-three men and four women litter the red room, only the black edge of nemesis is still thirsty. Sitting back down, Nyla continues her meal. Unfortunately, the maiden cowering behind the bar is the same size as Nyla and less bloody than the rest of the hall...