They returned to the mayor's house in time for what the Rhian mayor called "tea" – though it was more of a late-night snack than what Elise would consider proper tea. Still, it was far too late to be asking questions of any other respectable citizens, and at least they got to meet many of the mayor's apparently large family – including three wives and four grown, or nearly grown, children. The stallion proceeded to make apologies for the remaining absent family members, suggesting he had even more tucked away elsewhere. No wonder he has such a large house, Elise thinks. It's just to house his family, never mind entertaining.

After the late snack and chit-chat with their host, the two begged off from further socialize to get to sleep early. For all that, her sleep was hardly restful – instead, troubled by strange dreams. Her father is glowering at her, surly, as he says, "Where are your manners, young lady?" and she rides away. Then she turned back in the saddle to see the Kadie thief behind her, struggling between two guards, screaming, "Lady de Bellefeuille! Save me!" Elise turned away from the Kadie, too, spurring her Drokar forward – and almost rode down a silently weeping Keyni. The boy held out his arms to her – one a raw and bleeding stump.

Shocked, she backed her Drokar up a pace, and then the boy turned into Cyprian, curling the still-maimed limb to his chest and wrapping it in bandages with his free hand. The poodle started to speak, but whatever she was going to say was cut off when he turned his face to her. "I know. It's not your problem, is it, my lady?" Then she woke up.

With these dreams still fresh in her mind, after dressing and being told by a servant that breakfast was ready, Elise went downstairs to eat. As luck would have it, Kaalaas came down at about the same time, the ferret brisk and alert.

At the breakfast table, the mayor sits, along with three equines Elise would guess to be his younger children – two teen-aged Rhians and one pre-pubescent girl. His first and second wives sit at the far end of the table, near the children, while the mayor beckons for the two visitors to join him at the head. "Ah, welcome, my guests!" he says, sounding enthusiastic. "Come, join me. I have news for you."

The lady Executor bows her head to her host after he addresses her before walking on towards the offered seat. "News, is it? I am all for news," she says, not unpleasantly. She even manages a polite, if a bit forced, smile to the male Rhian – the previous night's dreams urging her to "remember her manners" still rest heavy on her mind.

Kaalaas nods with roughly the same level of politeness, and sits at the table, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the selection of vegetables and pastas arrayed before them. "Thank you, sir," she tells the mayor.

The Rhian nods again. "Hope do I, you pleased will be by some of this news," he tells them. "Tell you, will my secretary." He motions to one of the teen-aged Rhians, whom Elise notices now with a bit of a start is wearing a uniform similar to that of the other officials she saw.

Once seated, Elise lady her sword-cane within easy reach, both in case of the unlikely event of trouble and to help her stand later. The cane was an afterthought, an extra brought along for support in case she needed it. It wasn't made for her, rather purchased from a smith when she put in the order for new armament, though she has been forced to use it since her sword was stolen. Grudgingly she has come to like the item, and has considered having one made to suit her upon her return. Now however she focuses on the news, and as directed turns her attention to the uniformed teen, brow raised.

The young Rhian addresses them in accented but clear Standard. "Our people have been working to locate the person whom our honored guests seek. We believe that he has left the city, but we have certain signs of where he went. One of the people our illustrious visitors named in connection with him, Fateh Nyorga, has been working within Al Bawaba, for Marouf Kabir. Of course, Mr. Kabir had no knowledge of any untoward doings as regards him. Several days ago, Nyorga met with a Rhian who had just disembarked from the last vessel – before your own, honored investigators – to land in Al Bawaba. Nyorga then told Mr. Kabir that he would be leaving for 'a little while' with his friend. They left the city nine days ago, this morning, through the western gates. The Rhian Nyorga took with him was not recognized from the picture the honored Executors gave us of Abrecan Ordway, but they said he was of the right build and height. He may have dyed his fur – the Rhian was said to be a deep brown, almost black."

Though the secretary refers to them in the third person, he looks to Kaalaas and Elise as he speaks, waiting for their comments.

As the teen-aged official finishes her lengthy report, Elise casts a glance towards Kaalaas for a moment before returning her attention to the young man. "You said you had indications as to their destination?" she inquires. "Also, was there any report as to how they were equipped, and if they were mounted?"

"They were unmounted, great Executor," the young Rhian answers. "They were equipped as travelers prepared for a long journey. The stranger bore with him a longbow; Fateh Nyorga carried a sword. I do not know if they carried other armaments, for they were not observed closely by any. As for their destination, Mr. Kabir has told us that Mr. Nyorga was from a village, Al Nowaro, near the eastern coast; we would guess that they would be heading there."

Again the poodle Executor bows her head. "You have been most helpful," she commends the secretary. Her gaze travels across the table to the host, who also gets a nod, and she adds, "That is all for the moment, unless the esteemed Executor Majoris Kaalaas has a question." Elise turns to look at Kaalaas as well, raising a brow and managing to resist smirking for the moment.

Kaalaas toys with some noodles mixed with peas, spices, and olive oil on her plate, but she looks thoughtful about something other than food. "No. I've nothing to add."

"No?" echoes Elise, sounding slightly surprised by her superior's lackof commentary – be it genuine question or retort. She watches Kaalaasfor a moment curiously.

The secretary rises from his chair to give a little bow, before seating himself again. The mayor, meanwhile, looks sober. "Consider myself a knowledgeable Rhian, do I," he says. "Learn I many things of the wide world every day. Most of no concern to my honored guests. But learn I today a little news of the sky island, which perhaps would wish to know, my guests?"

Elise shakes her head, starting to speak, but then breaks off, tilting her head, as she registers her error. "Forgive my rude interruption. Please, if you would share?"

As the poodle listens to the news she busies herself with selecting her breakfast. Her meal seems to favor the pastas heavily with but a smidgen of the vegetarian here and there, the Executor Secundus never having greatly favored vegetables. She even tries a bit of the oils that are to her something of an exotic – she cannot quite recall the last time she sampled Khattan cuisine, if ever.

The stallion glances between the two women for a moment, then nods. "Heard have I this morning that man of the sky island, ah … 'Lord of the Pink' … " He pauses over the unfamiliar title, as if uncertain he got it right, then continues, "… on quest for Rephidim, was he, seeking lost holy relic of your Temple. In Savan, slain was he, not five nights ago."

The lady's expression falls from a polite smile to a shocked gape before she is quite able to catch the reaction. She turns her head from her host to focus on her meal instead, thus hiding her eyes from those who sit at the table. "I see," she says, voice suddenly a few steps above a whisper. "Lord Pink was a brave and good-hearted man. He will be missed."

Kaalaas shows little reaction to the news, only nodding to the mayor. She then flicks her eyes to Elise observing the poodle closely. "That's right. You knew him, didn't you?"

"Am sorry I to have brought sad tidings to you, honored guest," the Rhian says. "Suppose do I these things better known, than not."

"Yes," answers Elise as she slow twines a string of pasta. "The Lord Pink and I were acquainted. We spoke shortly before I accepted this position, we … had something of an argument. It … does not matter." The lady shakes her head sadly, staring at her plate for a moment before she looks up and asks, "Was there anything else, honored host?"

Kaalaas conceals her expression – be it a frown or a smirk – behind a mouthful of pasta, hooding her eyes.

The mayor of Al Bawaba shakes his head. "No. Sorry am I for your loss, honored Executor. Hope do I for success in your own ventures in my country."

"Thank you." And with that Elise turns her attention back to her meal, the rest of what she was going to say forgotten along with her smile.

After breakfast, the two Executors go outside, where they wait for a groom to bring them their Drokars. While they wait, Kaalaas asks, "Well, Secundus. What's your next move?"

"We should arrange supplies for our departure, but first we should take a look at the map of the surrounding area and determine a rough estimate of how far two men on foot with wilderness skills could travel," answers the Secundus. To that end Elise opens the leather pouch as her side and removes one of the maps they had been supplied with earlier and begins to unroll it. When she is about half way done she asks, "Are you quite all right, ma'am?"

"Me, Binadantake? I'm fine. I'm not the one who just found her sweetie got offed, after all," Kaalaas retorts. "Guess that fight must've been a doozy, though. You don't seem too broken up about it. Any road … yeah. We'll be in good shape if those two haven't picked up mounts anywhere. It's a good two hundred fifty miles from here to the east coast by the main road, and a lot of that through hills. We might even pass them if we're not careful."

Elise's reaction is concealed behind the map, for she holds it out and in front of her face as she reviews the various paths and terrain. The lady remains silent for a while, and when it seems that she does not intend to add anything further she says, "Perhaps we should try and pass them. Ordway is an ex-ranger. I do not fancy the idea of trying to best him in the wilderness, though we should not rule out the chance of intercepting them either, should we see signs of them before we arrive. If we can manage we may be able to meet the two of them as they walk in to town."

"That would be too much to hope for. I'll be happy to catch them wherever I can." Kaalaas smiles, flashing sharp fangs. "Ordway was a ranger, not an executor. I ain't afraid of him." The ferret swings into the saddle of her Drokar as the groom leads them deferentially before the pair. "In any case, we should get the rest of our things from the ship and send them off. We're done here."

The lady nods as she lowers the map, her expression somber now. After securing the scroll she hobbles over to her own mount and with help from the groom saddles up. "Let's go."

Their departure doesn't take long to arrange, and their thanks and farewells to the officials of Al Bawaba conveyed as quickly as is possible without giving offense. Kaalaas has made no further mention of getting an interpreter – perhaps because it doesn't look like they'll be doing a great deal more questioning from here on out. The sun has not yet reached its zenith by the time the two are riding out the east gate of Al Bawaba.

As they ride along the road, Kaalaas keeps a sharp eye out to either side, her motions looking fidgety as she watches the track before them as well as the rolling hills and occasional trees lining it. The Drokars plod forward dutifully, hearty if not energetic animals.

Elise keeps something of the same vigil as her superior, though her own movement is calmer not sharing the fidgety energy Kaalaas often displays. She has been quiet since they left the city, only speaking when necessary or when she needs to convey her plans to the Majoris. Now, however she speaks quite suddenly, saying in quiet tones, "Lord Pink was not my … 'sweetie,' as you put it. The lord, may he walk with Them, was a suitor of mine. Lord Pink, alas … " She breathes a sigh and shakes her head. "… was perhaps too romantic in his vision of the knights. I should have seen this coming. I should have counseled him better."

The ferret gives a skeptical snort. "'Suitor', huh? Among my kind, that's what 'sweetie' means, binadantake. Is that why you turned him down? Because he was too 'romantic' for you?"

"Your kind," the lady says, and now she looks to the Kavi to punctuate her words, "is not Gallee." The lady does not glare despite the intensity of her words; she looks perhaps more sad than anything. And after a moment she resumes watching her surroundings. "'Romance'. No, it is a fine … " Her muzzle twitches as she seems to search for a word. " … 'bonus' to any marriage. But hardly the judge, as you undoubtedly know, being as you know so much of my kind. No, I never intended to marry him. I did not wish my children to have two parents in military service – Lord Dunbarre would make a more suitable husband, foppish though he is."

"No, I ain't Gallee," Kaalaas sneers, staring at the left side of the road, "for which I'm sure we're both grateful. How much experience do you have in the wilderness?" she asks suddenly, reining in her Drokar to slow his pace, as they pass a nook in the hillside, sheltered by a few trees.

The lady Executor, about to make a comment on the ferret's retort, instead blinks at the sudden change of topic and answers, "Relatively little. My training and experience centers around cities and airships."

"Figures." Kaalaas turns her Drokar from the path, and it picks its way to the nook she's looking at. "I'll check this out. It's a good stopping place – our quarry might've been through here."

"Very well, ma'am," says Elise. She guides her own mount towards the nearest area that might serve as cover – just in case. As she rides over she unlatches her crossbow and draws a quarrel from her quiver.

The ferret goes over the area pretty thoroughly, and now that they're in the middle of the cleared nook, Elise can see that it's seen some use by past travelers. There's even a cleared spot fringed by rocks with the ashes of past fires still in it. After ten minutes or so of examination, Kaalaas stands, shakes her head, and re-mounts, riding back to the path.

Secundus de Bellefeuille rides up along side her superior as the Kavi resumes upon the path. The results of the search she assumes we negative, given the Majoris's shake of the head, and so the poodle resumes her earlier topic as she puts her weapon away. "Lord Pink believed in the knights. Whatever his failure, he was a good man. I do feel for his loss, but now is not the time for mourning. Undoubtedly there will be plenty enough upon my return." The breathes another sigh, frowning. "What a guilty funeral it will be."

Kaalaas gives another snort. "Plenty of that to go around among the nobility." She urges her Drokar to a faster walk, discouraging further conversation.

The Executor Majoris pushes herself and the poodle to ride as late into the evening as possible, stopping only when it becomes dangerous for the Drokars to continue. Curled up in a bedroll on a space that barely qualifies as "relatively flat," Elise soon realizes that there are much more uncomfortable places to sleep than in a cramped airship room with a surly Kavi. This, she thinks, as she squirms on top of a lumpy root, must be one of them.

Strangely – perhaps because of the many hours spent in weary riding – the poodle wakes from a dreamless sleep, feeling no worse rested than the morning before, if somewhat stiffer. They ride on for another several hours, stopping periodically while Kaalaas examines various likely sites, including a few branching paths, and sometimes bushes and patches of grass that look wholly normal to Elise. As the afternoon sun lowers on the horizon, the Kavi crosses her Drokar behind the poodle's, her attention on the path. Elise notices there are some dots of darker brown leading forward along the dusty road, as if splattered by water, though the sky has been clear since they set out two days ago.

It has been a long turning of the sun since the lady did more than stare at the road and occasionally glance around to discover more equally uninteresting landscape. She had developed a sort of rhythm, or perhaps a stupor, from the repeated action of watching the trail and glancing to her surroundings. Such is her state when she spots several points of moist ground. She follows their trail for a moment and upon judging it unusual lifts her hand and quietly gestures for Kaalaas to take a look.

The Kavi, considerably less stupefied by the boredom of travel, has already been examining it. She trots her Drokar past Elise's, dismounting next to a considerably large dark splatter in the road up ahead, where the trail of spots ends. She kneels beside it, frowning, and rakes a fingertip through the dirt. It comes up a dirty brown, and uncovers a streak of paler beige dirt below the surface. The Kavi smiles.

"A significant amount of water. If their canteen was damaged, they may need to seek water soon," comments Elise as she watches the Kavi inspect the soil. "Do you concur, ma'am?"

"It's not wet, Secundus," the ferret says. She stands and looks at the poodle. "Get off your Drokar and take a look."

While Elise dismounts, the ferret looks to either side of the road, peering at the vegetation as if searching for something on it, or among the grasses.

The lady perks her ears at the revelation, and she is soon off her Drokar and hobbling towards the soil. When she draws near she brushes the skirt of her robes back and kneels before running a finger through the unusual soil.

As the Majoris said, it's dry – merely colored differently from the rest of the road. After a few moments of looking about, Kaalaas turns back to the poodle, folding her arms expectantly.

The lady glances up at the Executor Majoris for a moment, then lifts her finger to her nose and sniffs a bit.

The dark brown dirt has an odd scent to it, as well, though nothing Elise can identify. A pungent odor that reminds her a little of an apothecary.

"Liquor, perhaps?" offers Elise to Kaalaas.

The Kavi chuckles. "I don't think so." She strides back to her Drokar and takes the reins to mount again.

Elise simply shakes her head and stands, turning and walking off to mount up again. As she walks she flicks the strange dirt off her fingers before she thinks to touch the saddle. Once up she nudges her Drokar to resume along the path.

"Let's just say, binadantake, that I won't be surprised if our friend Ordway's disguise has worn a little thin by the time we catch up to him." Smirking, Kaalaas continues along the path.

At that the Gallee gives a subdued chuckle. "Dye – of course." And as she rides along she remembers, and not with fondness, her own disguise from some time ago and that awful ceremony that it was used in. Unfortunately for Ordway his own disguise seems to have run out, and she thinks quite likely his time as well.