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“Tired?” he asks his friend.

Nodding, Dave says, “I think I’ll head up and go to sleep.”

Handing him the key, he says, “Alright, I probably won’t be up for a couple of hours.”

“Don’t worry about me,” replies Dave. “I’ll be dead to the world in a short while.”

As Dave leaves, Jiron watches him go with some delight. “I thought I’d take Fifer and we would tour the bars tonight and see what we could find out.”

“Not a bad idea,” agrees James. “See if you can discover any more rumors regarding the Ambassador’s visit.”

“Will do,” states Jiron. Getting up, he glances to Fifer and says, “Ready to go?”

“Always,” he says.

They move away from the table and head out the door.

Illan, Miko and James remain at the table late into the evening enjoying the music. Once he starts yawing, James gets up and heads to his room where he hears Dave’s snores coming from within before he even opens the door.

Getting undressed in the dark, he slips into the other bed and quickly falls asleep.

Jiron and Fifer leave the Silver Bells and head to the outer section of the city. There they’ll find the more disreputable establishments where rumors flow more readily. Never staying very long in any one place, they have a few drinks while listening to the conversations around them. Once in awhile asking a few discreet, innocent questions before moving to the next.

By the fifth such dive, they have accumulated rumors ranging from an attempt to kidnap/assassinate the king to an arranged marriage between one of the king’s daughters and a noble within the Empire. All of which seems rather implausible. The most improbable story yet is how the Empire is here to open a slave market within Cardri where they can sell the slaves taken in their war with Madoc. How that one started, no one seems to know and few believe. One man said, ‘It’ll be a cold day in hell before that ever happens’.

They wander outside the outer walls and plan to hit some of the seediest places yet. The first one they enter must have been standing a very long time. The walls are slightly slanted and most of the windows are boarded up. The odor and density of the smoke within makes it hard to breathe.

Moving to the bar, they order a couple drinks and set about drinking as they take in the clientele. Most are what Jiron would call sewer rats, little more than drunkards and layabouts. The fact that they’re even in a place like this tells him all he needs to know.

One man sitting at a table near them, who only has one hand, catches Jiron glancing in his direction. That is all the excuse he needs. Getting up from his chair, he moves toward him and says, “I don’t like the way you’re staring at me!”

The other patrons perk up at that. “No trouble tonight, Lonn,” says the barkeep from where he stands behind the bar.

“I’m not looking for trouble, mister,” Jiron says to him. “I apologize if I’ve bothered you in any way. I assure you it was not my intention.”

“You think I don’t know what you’re thinking about ol’ Lonn?” the man asks, anger beginning to build in voice. “Poor ol’ Lonn. One handed he is and good for nothin’!”

Jiron can smell the liquor on his breath. He’d like nothing better than to put Lonn on the floor, but he doesn’t want to do anything that could come back to James. “I’m not thinking anything like that,” he says, trying to diffuse the situation. “Here,” he says as he produces a coin out of his pouch, “let me buy you a drink.”

“I ain’t no drunk!” he says, now enraged. Using his one good hand, he takes a swing at Jiron’s jaw.

Easily anticipating what Lonn was going to do, he blocks the attack and follows through with a punch to the jaw. The blow snaps his head backward and Lonn stumbles into a table with three men. He smashes the table, tossing the men’s drinks onto the floor, one which spills across one of the men’s shirt in the process.

“Get them!” the man cries as he and his two buddies launch themselves at Jiron and Fifer.

Fifer flashes a grin to Jiron as he moves to meet the oncoming men. Both he and Jiron are veterans of