Tristan took the lead, and again twisted his way through the maze of Hediro's back alleys. They ended up on a side road in front of a large, slightly run-down stucco building proclaiming itself the Bouncing Mongoose. Inside, the found a plain but clean common room.

An hour later, they had all the animals in the stable for the night, their packs in the their rooms, and had at least wiped the worst of the road grime off. They chose a few tables off to one side, ordered a couple of pitchers of Ale, and sat back, relaxing. By mutual consent, they avoided talking about anything of consequence.

The dim interior was brightened for a moment as a cowled figure entered the room through the main door.

"Not again" said Don Perignon, shaking his head and pushing back his chair, hand on the hilt of his sword.

But there was no menacing motions from the newcomer. He moved slowly in their direction, hands far from his sides. Glorm noticed the glint of a silver ring on one of his fingers.

The cowled man stopped, threw back his hood and bowed deeply to El Sid. "Evening, my lord."

"Good evening, Beral" replied El Sid impassively. He glanced at the rest of the group. "This is Beral Drenger, a Silver Ring of Borgia Hold."

"My lord, I was asked to give this to you by our Lord Holder." The man pulled a heavy sack from under his cloak and handed it to El Sid. El Sid looked at if for a moment as if he did not want to take it, then emotionlessly reached out and relieved the man of it.

"You may return, and thank my Uncle for his gift."

"I'm afraid I may not be able to do that. This is... a very important package." The last part of the sentence was almost whispered instead of spoken.

El Sid looked at the man for a long time. "Then I will thank you for the gift. Go, and ghod speed."

The man bowed, and to the surprise of everyone at the table, El Sid bowed back, not to a lower class, but to an equal. The man turned quickly and left.

"Now, what the hell was that all about?" asked Tristan curiously.

El Sid smiled at him, but it was smile that didn't touch his eyes. "Personal news from home. I'm afraid I must retire to my room for the evening. I will see you all in the morning."

Glorm watched him go, and puffed absently on his pipe.

------------------------------ BREAK FOR PERSONAL NOTE

Up in his room, El Sid opened the sack. It held two scrolls, and a large, thick stone disk, about the size of a dinner plate but at least an inch thick. It was a dark stone, although El Sid remember it the last time he had seen it, glowing with a diffuse white light. Both scrolls wore the seals of his Uncle.

He cracked one of the wax seals, saw a tiny spark of light. A standard protective spell. It had not been tampered with. He read the note with the dying light of the afternoon sun pouring blood red through his window.

El Sid,

If you are reading this, then I am dead. I am sorry for this, for it means you have an impossible task before you. This task will be revealed shortly.

In my quest to discover what really happened sixteen years ago, when Bradford hold took the place of Borgia as Great Hold for the region, I had come across mention of a Cair Sea raider, the Bronze Spear. It was built with Bradford hold money and staffed with Bradford hold people. Ships logs spoke about a gold ring in Bradford Hold, Spalk Bradford, that had returned from a Cair Sea trading run with a strange device. This device was a coffin shaped box. It had two arms that extended from the top and two from the bottom, each ending in what appeared to be torch holders.

Strange things have been brought back across the Cair. But this one was truly unusual, in that a Silver Ring named Gaz Prednak had, while inspecting the device, fallen into it and was now, somehow, sealed inside by a transparent but very strong magical barrier. He was alive but apparently devoid of cognitive capabilities.

The timing seemed to me to be more than coincidence, but I never managed to find another mention of the device, and it had fallen in the pile of things which had been pursued as far as they could go.

Recently, however, I came across a man who had been a silver ring for Bradford back then. He had amassed a great gambling debt, used his silver ring privileges to pay it off, and was subsequently dismissed from the hold. The silver ring agreed to tell me a story for a small amount of gold. He had been guarding the device one night, and on a lark, asked the embedded man, Gaz, whether his wife was available, since Gaz was a breathing corpse. Gaz had answered like an automaton, saying his wife was lying with Verin Crabbat, a lowly copper ring.

The man, curious, questioned Verin the next day, and Verin bragged about his "conquest" the night before. Somehow, Gaz... or what was left of Gaz... had know about something miles away.

Apparently, silver rings were replaced with gold rings as the item's guards shortly thereafter, and the man could tell me little else. But for the past few days, I have been checking elements of the mans story. Gaz was buried eighteen months after the return of the Bronze Spear. There has been a pattern of disappearances since that time of Bradford hold people... they are many random ones, but there is also one every eighteen months.

If I am right, I have found the secret of Bradford Hold's dominance for the past sixteen years. If I am right, I am also a dead man.

I have taken what precautions I could. I am writing this in a completely darkened room, and will roll the scroll and protect it as best our resources will allow before leaving. I have hired a Hcetlac cleric to temporarily wipe my mind of sending it. And the courier who brought it to you will kill himself after delivering it. The only link left is you. I believe that returning to Salta is death for you, and would not recommend it. I am hoping that distance is a remedy for this dark item, or you are already dead.

I have left the hold in the hands of Nenar. He is old and wise, and will make an acceptable Holder-Interim. The second scroll I have sent you makes you Lord Holder of Hold Borgia. I hope that someday, you may use it without fear of dying rather abruptly. Do not open it until you are ready to take the Hold, for the seal must be whole when you show it to a gathering of the Hold gold rings.

My only clue to the origin of the device is the final words of the silver ring before I cut off his head. He told me the material of the box glowed, with a brightness that waxed and waned with the light of the moon... just as the moonstone in the Moon Room does. It is the only clue to the origin of this item, and of any possible defense against it.

My advice... stay away from Salta, get some experience, and keep you eyes open. You may get lucky, and on your luck the future of House Borgia depends.

Good Luck.

Vic

El Sid looked up just as the last rays of sunset vanished. Nenar. He would make a good interim holder, steady and dependable. But to lead a hold took vision, not management. Uncle Vic was right.

He ran his fingers along the almost soapy feeling black moonstone. It had been in the Hold since before the fall. No one knew its origin.

He stood, stretched, looked out the window at the gathering gloom. It was going to be especially dark tonight, with the new moon. A shadow slipped through the open window, and leapt to him. He leaned forward slightly, and Rosebud landed gently in his arms. He stroked the cat softly. "Well, little friend. It looks like we may be headed to Pranan."

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