Eight o'clock. Wu Fei stood in front of the Drunken Gull and told himself there was no reason for his heart to pound so. He'd lost and honor demanded that he pay the price of defeat, no matter what it might be. Taking a deep breath, smoothing the red silk of his over-tunic, the Hunter went in.

The innkeeper was there to greet him. "His Grace has hired a private parlor, my lord," the man said with a curious look. "If you will follow me?"

Kushrenada was waiting, seated on a small sofa before the large, diamond-paned windows that overlooked the bay. Moonlight silvered those tranquil waters and Wu Fei saw tiny lights on some of the boats moored there. The duke rose, graceful and unhurried. "Welcome, my lord. Chester, leave us. I'll call you when you're needed."

"Your Grace," agreed the landlord with a low bow, and was gone.

"Tea?" asked the duke, moving to a silver service on a nearby table.

Sha, thought Wu Fei in surprise, recognizing the subtle, spicy scent. In Wyrmhold? "Yes, thank you."

Kushrenada poured and handed him the cup, handle to the right. Wu Fei flashed another startled look into those patrician features. He accepted the tea with a bow and moved away. The sha was perfect, the temperature just above tepid, the merest hint of sweetening.

"You've been to Hebronda?"

"Four years ago. I was with Peacecraft when he visited your Dragon Lord."

"If you know our customs, why did you insist I shake your hand?" Wu Fei demanded.

"We are not in Hebronda," replied the duke with gently raised eyebrows. "Please, sit down."

Wu Fei frowned, but sat. Kushrenada sat next to him. The duke sipped at his sha. "The Temple of the Mountain Star is an ascetic order, isn't it?"

Wu Fei nodded. Kushrenada's closeness was distracting.

"I've always wondered about something. We have our ascetic cults, as well, but the Hunters don't deny themselves all worldly pleasures, do they?"

"What do you mean?" the young Hebrondan asked uneasily. How much did Kushrenada know about his sect?

"I mean," Kushrenada leaned close. His mouth was against Wu Fei's ear, warm breath sending shivers through the suddenly paralyzed Hunter, "that after a fight such as ours, for instance, the victor is usually offered use of the loser's body." The duke's teeth sank gently into Wu Fei's earlobe. "In fact, wasn't that just what you would have demanded of me had I lost?"

Wu Fei was sweating, the tea sloshing from its cup onto his tunic. "Stop that."

Long fingers deftly removed the cup from his grasp. "Can it be that I am your first victor?"

"Y-yes." Wu Fei bit off the word. Shame choked him.

"I had a feeling that was the case, my beautiful young assassin. You have the manner of a boy accustomed to winning." The duke leaned away and Wu Fei struggled to steady his breathing. "Look. You have spilled sha on your tunic. Best have it off. We'll get the innkeeper's wife to clean it off before it stains."

"There is no need..."

"I insist," the duke replied sweetly and, taking Wu Fei's wrist, pulled the assassin to his feet.

Kill him. Snap his neck and run. Go back to Hebronda and accept the Council's anger, just don't let this man have what he wants.

But Wu Fei did none of those things, only stood frozen while the handsome duke untied his sash, then helped him slip the tunic up and over his head. Sure enough, the innkeeper was summoned and the tunic borne off to the kitchens. Clad only in his white silk, Wu Fei felt suddenly, absurdly defenseless.

The duke brought him the cup of sha refilled, but kept his hands over Wu Fei's, steadying the cup to the Hunter's lips. Wu Fei drank again, heart thumping.

"Do you accept the victory price?" Kushrenada asked quietly. He reached idly around and untied Wu Fei's hair. It fell straight and heavy to his shoulders.

"I-If I refuse?"

"Then you must give me my forfeit prize." The lazy smile came and went. "You must divulge to me the exact details of your mission in Wyrmhold."

Wu Fei swallowed the sha, its taste no longer so pleasant. He lifted his head and met those gleaming eyes. His skin tingled. "I will pay the victory price," he said.

The afternoon continued unseasonably hot and muggy. Thunder was in the air and inside the castle it was unbearably stuffy. To make matters worse, the pump in the kitchen wasn't drawing. That meant a very grouchy cook and Duo hauling endless buckets of water from the pump in the granary, all while trying to find and fix the problem.

It had been three days since Duo had given the earl a tour of the castle. Since then, he'd seen little of his master or of the duke. He knew the earl was familiarizing himself with the county, riding over the hills and along the coast. Market gossip claimed he had visited the Standishes and had received several invitations from the Abbey on Cinnamon Mountain. Lord Maxwell hadn't gotten on well with the monks. They had disapproved of his collection of ancient Onii texts and they most certainly disapproved of his allowing Duo freedom to roam about the countryside. So far, it looked as if the new earl wasn't the religious sort either.

"Bah!" Duo squirmed out from under the sink and wiped wet hair out of his eyes.

"Well?" Lacy snapped.

"The problem isn't under here," he sighed. "Guess I gotta go downstairs."

"Well, hurry up. This is damned inconvenient!"

"Yeah, yeah." Duo picked up a lamp, lit it and traipsed down the cellar stairs, Lacy's complaints ringing in his ears. "Tell me about it."

The kitchen plumbing was much more recent than the castle itself, pipes running down through the cellars where they joined the original plumbing at the bottom. The problem wasn't in the first cellar or the second, of course. Damn.

In the last cellar was a large room filled with ancient pipes. Duo had no idea where three quarters of them went or what they did. Some were massive, others small. They ran everywhere, vertically, horizontally, in great loops. Many were broken. It took him a while to find the right one -- a more recent, metal pipe. Right where it met the floor, some of the metal had corroded and there was a hole. No wonder the pump hadn't worked. No vacuum.

A silicite patch would do the trick. Duo crouched and, setting down the lamp, wiped at the dirt and dust that covered the floor around the pipe. As he did, his fingers brushed over a depression. He frowned and cleared away a bit more, moving the lamp over. A straight crack ran away to the right. What the hell? Curious, on hands and knees, he followed it, clearing away the heavy coating of dust until he had revealed a trap door.

Rocking back on his heels, he stared at it in amazement. Duo was pretty sure this wasn't on Lord Maxwell's map of the castle. He swept away more dust, sneezing as it drifted through the damp air, and found what must have been the latch -- a small square of dark metal set into the stone with a little hole in it, probably for a key of some sort. He stuck his finger in it, searching for a latch mechanism, but there was nothing. Nor was the crack marking the door's outline wide enough to allow a crowbar or other prying device.

Oh, well, it was probably just an access panel to more of the ancient plumbing. Duo sighed, got up and went off to find his silicite patching kit.

An hour later, the hole patched, he came up into the kitchen to give Lacy the good news and stopped short at the top of the stairs. The kitchen was filled with people! Lacy stood, arms folded over her bosom, scowling at a small man wearing a pair of most unusual spectacles and sporting a hook in place of an arm. There was a cute, dark-haired girl and several young men bunched up near the far door, looking apprehensive.

"I don't care who you are," Lacy was barking, "This is my kitchen!"

"And I tell you that Lord Yuy has ordered me to take over the domestic arrangements for this house, madam."

"Fine!" Lacy roared, tearing off her apron and throwing it into the man's face. "You cook!"

"L-Lacy?" Duo stared. The cook gave him a look. "Duo, you tell his lordship that I quit!"

"But -- where...what..."

"Good riddance!" snapped the little man and fixed his goggled glare on Duo. "This must be that worthless slave Lord Yuy wrote about, the shinigami bastard."

One of the young men made the sign against evil and the girl's eyes got very wide. Duo's mouth opened and closed.

Lacy was storming for the door to the little corridor that led to their bedrooms. The old man glared after her, then turned back to Duo. "Get over here boy and... Hey!"

Ignoring the strangers, Duo raced after Lacy. "Lacy! Wait! What the hell is going on?"

"I've had it!" The woman stomped into her room and dragged a large suitcase from under the bed. "I don't care if he has himself a damned steward to manage the rest of this pile, but no one tells me what to do in my kitchen!"

"What?" Duo's heart took a precipitous dive.

"Yep! They're his lordship's famous l'Sanjil servants! That J fellow said Lord Yuy told him to come here and 'straighten' us out! Well, that's just fine, your lor'ship. Straighten yourself out another cook, too, ye bastard!"

"You can't leave! Lacy!" Appalled, Duo watched as she flung handfuls of clothing into the suitcase and then started in on the bric-a-brac that decorated the small chamber. There was the little corn-doll Martin had given her, a picture of Butta, her favorite of the Seven Gods -- all things as familiar to Duo as his own small room next door. He couldn't remember a time when Lacy hadn't been here. "Wait for Lord Yuy! There must be some misunderstanding!"

"Faugh!" She slammed shut the bag.

"Where are you going?" he asked as, lugging it, she left her room.

"Believe it or not," she snorted, "I've had other offers since his effing lor'ship arrived. I'll be headin' down to the Gull for now. The Standishes and Tuberov are both int'rested. I'm minded to go to the Standishes, meself, but we'll see."

She came back into the kitchen. The old man was prowling around lifting the lids of jars and opening cupboards. The other three were where Duo had seen them last, apparently too scared to move. Lacy gave the old man a disgusted look and plowed on past him.

"Just a minute," he barked, scuttling after her. "Let's see what you've got there! You won't be taking any of his lordship's belongings out of here, my good woman!"

"Go to hell, freak!" she retorted and swung the heavy suitcase at him, knocking him on his butt. Suitcase gripped firmly in hand, she stomped out. The little dark-haired girl's eyes were very wide and her hand was over her mouth. The two young men with her were doing their best not to laugh.

Duo ran after her. "Lacy, please! Can't ya just wait a little while! Just long enough for Lord Yuy to come back? He loves your cooking! If you talk to him reasonably..."

But Lacy, in a towering rage, would have none of it. She continued on down the narrow lane and out the castle walls. There she stopped and dropped her suitcase. Looking at him, her face softened.

"Listen, boy, I'm sorry. I'll miss ye, that's for sure. You're a good lad, even if you do have the Onii in ye. If I could bring ye along with me, I'd do it."

Duo's throat was tight. He could not believe this was happening! "I'll find him," he said suddenly. "He has to be around the county somewhere! I'll go get him and bring him back here..."

She lay a plump hand on his shoulder. "No, Duo. I'll be at the inn if he wants to talk -- he owes me my wages, if nothin' else. You just take care, all right?"

"I -- yeah. Sure."

He stood in the gate and watched as she headed down the road toward the village. There was a lump in his throat. Like the day Lord Maxwell died, he had the terrifying sense of his world shifting a little further out of his control. When he could no longer see her, he turned and walked slowly back to the keep.

The old man was sitting at the kitchen table. The girl was busy pumping water. At least he'd fixed the damn thing. Neither of the young men were in sight. Looking around, the old man fixed his gaze on Duo. The sunlight coming through the open doorway reflected off his goggles.

"There you are," he said. "Get in here."

Duo came in. The man looked him up and down. "Scrawny thing, aren't you?"

Across the kitchen the door opened and one of the young men came out. "Three bedrooms," he announced. Two of them are occupied."

"One was that bitch's, I suppose," the old man said. "Is the other one yours?"

Numb, Duo nodded.

"I'm your new master, boy. My name is J and I'm Lord Yuy's steward. When he wrote and told me things were a disaster, I didn't believe him, but I see, as usual, the earl was correct. Remove your belongings from that back bedroom. Those rooms are going to be ours. You'll be sleeping in the stables from now on. His lordship wants properly trained staff waiting on himself and his guest. Now -- what are you standing there for? Are you stupid or something? Our bags are in wagon outside. Get going!"

Chapter 12

Dragonfell was finally beginning to feel like a real home. Now Heero woke to find the heater lit if it was a cool morning and hot water in the thermos. Toby, his footman, hovered outside his door. Waiting at table was Hilde, her sunny smile a welcome sight first thing in the morning or after a day of roaming about the county.

Of course, the cooking was decidedly inferior. Upon learning of That Woman's defection, Heero had sent immediately to the inn, but Lacy had politely, but firmly announced her intention to stay away as long "that gimpy bastard" was in charge. Heero also found that he rather missed Duo. The slave had been relegated to other duties such as caring for the horses, doing maintenance and repair work around the castle. Once in a while, Heero glimpsed him outside, but it was usually only as a flash of that long braid as Duo ran from one task to another.

It was too much to hope, however, that Duo had accepted J's authority with anything approaching docility. A week after the steward and Heero's other servants had settled in, the earl was leaving his bedroom, intending to ride up to Cinnamon Mountain for a much-delayed duty visit to the abbey, when he caught sight of Hilde hurrying along the corridor peering into empty rooms, a worried look on her face. He stopped and watched until she suddenly realized he was there.

"My lord!" she squeaked.

"Hilde?"

"You haven't seen Duo, have you, my lord?"

Ah. In spite of himself, Heero perked up. "No. He's missing, is he?"

"He was supposed to start cutting out chimney holes in the three rooms on the west side, but he got into an argument with Mr. J and now he's nowhere to be found. Mr. J is furious."

"An argument?" Now that would have been something to see.

"Yes, my lord." She looked a little apprehensive.

"It's all right. You can be honest. I won't say where I've heard what." Heero was well aware that J could be an intimidating employer. Hell. The old man intimidated him sometimes. Hilde nodded, looking a little more at ease.

"Your tenant, Mr. Pierrot, has been up two days in a row complaining that his bedroom window won't close and with it getting colder in the mornings he was wondering when your lordship was going to send someone to see to it. Mr J said that maybe by the weekend, what with us being so busy and all..."

"And Duo decided the repair couldn't wait and went off?"

"Oh! Do you think he might have done that?" She looked much struck by the possibility. "He did get right in Mr. J's face about how the old earl always took good care of his tenants. I thought he just ran off and was sulking somewhere in this mausoleum -- oh! Begging your pardon, my lord!" She colored furiously.

"Mausoleum is being kind. I'll go down to Bay Cottage."

"B-but, Nick or Toby could go..."

"That's all right. I don't mind the walk. It's a nice day."

She stared at him, then shut her mouth when he lifted his eyebrows, and gave him a quick little bob. "Yes, m'lord!" she said and hurried off.

Summer was definitely on the wane. The air was cool and his jersey and jeans were just right for rambling over the hills and through the trees toward the cottage. A few of the softwoods growing amid the evergreens were starting to turn, just the faintest reddening of their leaves. The brine-berries were crimson among the dark green foliage, and the grass, growing brittle and golden underfoot, crunched as he made his way to the gate.

Lying on the wall by the gate was a leather tool-kit. There was no sign of Duo, however. Heero pushed open the gate and walked up the path to the front door.

Barton answered his knock. "Duo?" He shook his head. "He finished up a little while ago. I don't know where he is now, though."

"I probably just passed him," Heero said calmly.

Leaving Trowa watching after him, Heero continued down to the shore. Sure enough, as he walked up over the rise, he saw a figure standing on the shallow strip of beach, looking out at the sea. The breeze picked up the long braid and sent it whipping back. Duo was very still, arms wrapped tight around himself. Heero wondered what he was thinking.

Suddenly, Duo turned around and looked up. At once, that spare, graceful body tensed. Heero jumped down from the ridge and watched with dismay as Duo took a hasty step back. There was a purple bruise on the shinigami's jaw. One hand closed around the stone that hung against his ragged black shirt. "I'd have come back," he said defensively. "It ain't like I can leave, right?"

He had backed right up to the water. It lapped around his bare feet and soaked the tattered hem of his trousers. Heero moved away to give him space.

"You didn't come for me?" Duo asked finally, still apprehensive.

"Yes," replied Heero. The midmorning sun filled Shinigami's Cup with gold. "But I'm in no hurry."

"It wasn't right that J kept putting off Mr. Pierrot," Duo burst out. "The lord of Dragonfell has an obligation..."

"I know. I agree."

"Oh." Duo stared at him. "Then -- I'm not in trouble?"

"Not with me." Heero looked toward the distant, rocky tip of the peninsula. "The innkeeper said the end of the Talon is riddled with caves. Have you ever been in any of them?"

"A-- a few. I helped Lord Maxwell map some of them one summer. We stopped, though, because it was too dangerous."

"Why?"

"There's an underground river that empties into the sea right there. Where it comes out, the currents are dangerous as hell. Depending on the tide, your boat can either get dashed against the rocks or sucked down in whirlpools."

"Can you reach those caves by climbing along the cliffs?"

"If you're crazy enough to try, maybe." Duo shrugged. Heero followed his gaze. He could see how someone might, with great effort and at some considerable risk, do it.

"You've never tried?"

"The Earl wouldn't give me permission. He said I was too valuable to risk. Wouldn't want me to die without a kid and have your family vanish forever from the world, would we?" Duo's smile was crooked.

"I don't believe in those legends," said Heero.

"Neither do I."

"Did Lord Maxwell?"

"He said he didn't, but . . ."

"But he bred your mother."

Duo nodded. "I think in the end he did believe it was true." He sighed and shrugged, turning away, face closing. "Guess I'll go collect my tools. I should get back and clean up before J has a heart attack or somethin'."

Heero fell into step beside him as he set off. Duo looked startled, then he stopped. "I don't suppose you could put in a good word for me, could ya?" he added.

Heero looked at the bruise on Duo's face. "Yes."

"Really? Thanks!" Violet eyes lit up and the smile was so full of relief and gratitude that for a moment, Heero was breathless.

J was in the kitchen, giving instructions to Hilde when they returned. He saw Duo first and his face reddening as he lurched to his feet. "Where the hell have you... My lord!"

"He was with me," said Heero. "And from now on, J, if a tenant has a problem, I want it taken care of immediately. My convenience can wait."

"Y-yes, my lord!"

"Good," said Heero. He turned back to Duo. "I'd like at least one of the vents cut for the stoves today, if possible. Please."

"Yes, sir!" Duo said and was gone, leaving J glaring after him. The old man rounded on Heero.

"My lord..." he began, but Heero held up a hand for silence.

"Don't hit him," he said shortly. "Don't ever hit him." Then, turning his back on his stunned steward, the Earl of Wyrmhold left the kitchen.

Wu Fei reined in his horse and looked along the road toward distant Dragonfell. Here, high atop the Talon, the wind blew hard and strong. There was a bite to it and he was glad he'd worn his padded jacket. The horizon was piled high with charcoal-colored clouds, but the sky overhead was still blue. From where he sat, he could see the tops of the trees crowding the slopes that descended to the bay. They were starting to turn color. In Hebronda, the hardwoods in the lower valleys would already be at their full crimson glory.

He looked again at Dragonfell. Somewhere behind those soaring walls was His Grace, Kushrenada of Oz. The man was impossible to keep out of his mind! Not all the calming mantras, not even the most desperate focus on his mission could banish that handsome, sardonic countenance from Wu Fei's thoughts. No sense of duty could erase the memory of those hands on him, the unbearable pleasure of the man's touch. For one wild moment, he thought about riding up the castle and asking to see him.

Don't be an idiot, Wu Fei told himself sternly. The duke was a southerner and a hedonist. He possessed some sword-skill, true, but otherwise, his character was debased. Nor did he seem the sort of man likely to take advice from Wu Fei on keeping to a more honorable path. If only he weren't so damned attractive! If only he didn't possess that strength of personality, however shallow, that tugged at Wu Fei like a flame lured a moth.

There was someone coming. Wu Fei started out of his preoccupation. Two horsemen approached from the castle. He fought the impulse to ride away -- he'd already been seen -- and so he waited, heart pounding. Sure enough, as they drew nearer, he saw that one was Kushrenada, the other, the earl.

Kushrenada's face lit up at the sight of him. Wu Fei felt his own heat and he scowled, nodding at Yuy in rude violation of protocol. "My lord earl," he said. Yuy nodded back, eyebrows coming together sharply. "Your Grace," Wu Fei added grudgingly, dragging his eyes to the duke. Chagrined, he saw Kushrenada's smile grow wider. The damned sorcerer saw right through him!

"Well met," said the duke, nudging his horse past Yuy's to approach the Hunter. "Were you on your way to the castle?"

Wu Fei shook his head. "Merely riding for exercise. Are you out for the same?"

"I am," said Kushrenada promptly, "although Yuy here is on his way to the abbey."

From the annoyed expression on the handsome earl's face, Wu Fei knew that until that exact moment, Treize had been going to the abbey, too.

"Isn't that right, Yuy?" prompted the unrepentant duke.

"Do what you want." The earl shrugged and rode on, body straight in the saddle, chin in the air.

"See you later!" Treize chirped. He turned a bright, expectant look at Wu Fei, whose face grew warmer yet. "Well? Where shall we go?"

"The sea?" Wu Fei nodded toward the distant shore. Kushrenada found nothing wrong with the idea, so they started down into the trees.

Treize brought his big gelding close. He rode well, body straight and graceful. Wu Fei was assailed by the sudden memory of that body unclothed and leaning over his, the smooth skin, the warmth...

"You're coming to the party?" Treize asked idly.

Wu Fei shrugged. "I'm looking forward to it, Your Grace, although I confess I'm surprised."

"Treize," said the duke with a small smile. "Please call me Treize. And surprised? Why is that?"

"I thought you and the earl would be attending the royal wedding in Dragora next week. I've heard most of Sanc's nobility has already departed for Esene."

"Good gods!" Treize exclaimed, blue eyes widening in horror. "The ceremony is next week?"

Wu Fei stared suspiciously at him. He found it difficult to tell when the duke was being serious. The engagement of the two young royals was an event of great importance for both Sanc and Dragora, so important that Wu Fei had been told at the outset that his mission must be completed by then.

"Bullshit," he said crudely. "You are third in line to the throne, Your Grace, and the king's good friend. You would never forget such an event."

"Caught! You are too sharp for me, Wu Fei," mourned Kushrenada. He turned doe eyes on the Hunter. "I may call you Wu Fei?"

They were in the trees now. Sunlight filtered through the leaves and the air was fresh and cool. Treize drew ahead, winding along a deer-path. Wu Fei feasted his eyes hungrily on the broad shoulders in the superbly fitting blue suede jacket, the wool that hugged those long, muscular thighs. For just an instant, Wu Fei was glad his mission was going poorly.

They broke briefly from the woods. The land continued its gentle decline to the bay. The trees started up again a hundred feet or so ahead, but scattered thinly now and with more underbrush. The great stone claw of the Talon rose on their left.

"Race you to the shore," Treize challenged suddenly.

Wu Fei gave him a startled look. Those blue eyes were fixed on the sparkling waters of the bay. "Winner gets a kiss!"

And he was off in a flash of hooves and flying sod. Wu Fei grinned and went after him. They streaked through the trees, in and out of patches of golden light. Ahead, Wu Fei saw a split in the ridge rising before them and aimed for it, reckoning to gain time. He lost sight of the duke, plunging into underbrush.

The cut took an unexpected jag and he found himself following a stream. Swearing, Wu Fei looked up to his left, but could see no sign of Treize. He kept going, swinging around the curve of a gentle incline and out onto the open. Ahead was the bay. To the left was woods and to the right, a cottage nestled among trees in the hollow of a hill. He'd seen it before on his reconnaissance of the area and knew it was part of the earl's holdings. A single man lived there, a musician he'd seen around the village.

Wu Fei tried to decide whether to keep going to the shore and hope he ended up somewhere near Treize. Then he saw a man come out of the cottage and not the tall, rangy brunette he'd seen earlier. The afternoon light glowed off golden hair. Wu Fei froze. Quickly, the race forgotten, he reached into his saddle bag and took out his binoculars. Setting them to his eyes, he focused them on the distant figure. His heart almost stopped. Finally!

The blond youth had an armload of wet sheets. With growing amusement, Wu Fe watched him carry them across the overgrown yard and throw them over a rope strung between two trees. How quaint. Playing at house, was he? Unaware of the silent watcher in the trees, the blond finished his task and returned with a springy step to the cottage, closing the door behind him. Wu Fei returned his binoculars to the bag. He gave his mare a gentle nudge with his heel and resumed his journey to the shore. He was in no hurry now. In fact, Chang Wu Fei, Hunter of the Temple of the Mountain Star, was very much in the mood for a kiss.

Chapter 13

The cold, snotty earl of Dragonfell had said please. It was a little thing. Insignificant. But for some reason, Duo couldn't get it out of his mind.

You're an idiot, he chided himself, laying down the big old drill and wiping sweat from his eyes. Big deal. He said please. Nice people say it automatically. He's a jerk. And yet...

Duo stared at the small hole he'd spent the last hour cutting, but he didn't see it. Instead, he kept seeing the earl standing on the beach, wind tousling the dark hair, sunlight gilding the fine, chiseled planes of his face.

'This must be that worthless slave Lord Yuy wrote about.'

Worthless slave. Shinigami. Onii-blood. That was how Lord Yuy really thought of him. And yet, if Duo were to be honest, it wasn't as if he'd ever really tried very hard to please the earl. From the moment his lordship had set foot in Dragonfell, Duo had been disobedient, argumentative and sometimes, well, downright insolent. Maybe he resented a stranger taking what was Lord Maxwell's. Or maybe -- shit.

If he worked hard, did what he was told, kept his big mouth shut, Lord Yuy might start to think better of him. Hell, he'd even work to please Mr. J. The old man was a king-sized asshole, but he was fiercely loyal to the earl and obviously cared a lot about him. Hilde said J had raised Lord Yuy when the earl's father and mother had been killed in a carriage accident. Supposedly the old freak had even taught the earl how to fight -- he'd been in the army once or something.

And if Duo won Lord Yuy's approval, the earl might -- might what? Duo sat on the floor, the chisel in his hand and started to laugh. Might like him? Might be a friend?

Might hold him the way Trowa held Quatre?

Yeah. Right. Giving himself a little shake, he went back to widening the hole.

The Abbey of The Seven sat at the top of Cinnamon Mountain, a high coastal hill that overlooked Dragonfell and the bay. A narrow, unpaved road wound up through the trees. This was no Onii road, but one of dirt and gravel that followed the natural contours of the hill and was rough with ruts and pot-holes. Trees crowded either side, casting it in cool shadow. Heero went slowly to save his horse and in no particular hurry to pay this duty-call.

Priests annoyed him. Their mumbling and spells, the claims that could be neither proved nor disproved -- it all seemed a complete waste of time. Heero believed none of it. To his observation, appealing to deities had no discernible effect on the outcome of anything. In battle, the pious died as often and as painfully as the heretics. Fortunately, with the enlightened young king of Sanc on the throne, the power of the clergy had diminished substantially in recent years. It was only in far-away counties like this one where they still had significant influence.

The road turned and turned again, the grade growing abruptly steeper. He rode up over a rise and saw the hill level out. In front of him was a large building. It was three stories high and constructed of limestone and more of the black material that comprised Dragonfell. A slender tower of steel frame rose from the roof another fifty feet or so. Surrounding the temple was a waist-high limestone wall and at the back, just outside the wall were several cruder stone buildings. On the wooden gate were the painted faces of the Seven Gods and Goddesses of Man. A priest sat on a rock beside it, apparently waiting for Heero. He jumped up and bowed, pulling open the gate to let the earl go in.

The priest took his horse off to the stables while he continued up the crushed limestone path to the line of doors. Inside, statues of the Seven lined a foyer, three on each side, with the Seventh in the middle of the room, denoting the focus of the sect. In this case it was Jez, the Benevolent One. The statue was of a bearded, austere man of middle age who stood contemplating a large X held in his hand.

"Welcome my lord." A priest awaited. "Please follow me."

Heero walked from the foyer and down a low-ceilinged, plastered hall. Scenes of the Gods and Goddesses were painted on it, along with relevant writing from their Sacred Texts. The monk stopped in front of a door with a brass nameplate. 'John Rimerez, Abbot.' He knocked. A voice bade them enter. The monk opened the door and bowed Heero through.

A lean, sunken-eyed man sat behind a desk. Behind him was a painting of Jez in the middle of a crowd of people. Everyone was eating fish with looks of ecstasy on their faces. The office was spacious and brightly lit. There were armchairs upholstered in thick plush, with carved wood trim. The abbot's desk was of mahogany and mahogany shelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound books. Underfoot was a thick carpet. The priests of this abbey lived well.

"My lord, please come in and sit down. Welcome to the Abbey of the Seven. Alexander!"

A slender youth slipped through a door on the left. He wore the white robe of the initiate and bowed low.

"Bring us some tea."

The boy bowed again and vanished. Heero studied the abbot. Jez's clerics were chosen by divine vision. This man was ordinary enough, perhaps more intelligent than most. He wore a purple robe edged with gold and white embroidery, but it was otherwise unadorned.

"It is has been too long since we've had the honor of a visit from the master of Wyrmhold. I hope you are enjoying your visit."

"I am," said Heero, taking a seat. He met the man's gaze without flinching. "And it's no visit. I mean to stay and restore the castle."

"Stay?" Rimerez looked startled. "Don't you have an active commission in His Majesty's Specials?"

"Yes," agreed Heero.

"Er, I see." The abbot said finally, when it was obvious Heero had no intention of elaborating. The initiate returned with an elegant silver tea service. He poured tea for the abbot and the earl, then quickly departed. "Well, it will be good to have the castle occupied, although it will cost a fortune to remodel and maintain it. The previous earl, I'm afraid, was unable to keep it up and I've heard that it's fallen into some disrepair."

"Lord Maxwell's interests were narrow." In his mind's eye Heero compared the luxurious library with a certain ragged shinigami. "His fortune was actually more than adequate."

"Excellent news. Then you will be looking to hire carpenters and painters and other skilled workers. That will be good for our local economy." The abbot beamed. "And I assume that you will be wanting a priest to move in?"

"Why?"

"To oversee the shinigami." Abbot Rimerez smiled. "Surely you don't intend to allow him continued free rein of the countryside? Lord Maxwell's habit of doing so was really quite unacceptable."

"Why not? The villagers don't seem to mind."

"Of course, they don't!" snapped the man, then caught himself, forcing a smile. "The Onii have always had the powerful weapon of charm. Duo seems to have quite a bit of it! People forget that behind the smile and comely face is a spirit of pure evil. With your shinigami properly locked up and under the guardianship of a priest, people might also forget the scandal..." He coughed delicately behind his hand.

"Scandal?"

"They're only rumors, of course, but..." The abbot leaned forward across his desk, voice dropping to a conspiratorial low. "They say the earl was his father."

Whatever Heero had been expecting, it wasn't this. "Father? Lord Maxwell?"

"Well, I know the earl hired some man from the east to come and impregnate the whore, but there are those in the village who swear they were with the fellow at the Gull one night when he got drunk and confessed that he hadn't touched her. She was already pregnant, he claimed, and with Lord Maxwell's bastard. Naturally, even Lord Maxwell could not countenance the shame of having a child with Onii blood, so the subterfuge was arranged. You can be sure, my lord, that having the boy running freely about the county is a constant reminder of that shameful affair."

"You have evidence that this is so?"

"Of course not! I told you, it's only a rumor. Still, its part of a wider pattern of behavior that came perilously close to heresy. Your cousin, I'm afraid, allowed himself to become corrupted by his disbelief. There are books in that library of his, Onii writings that should be burned instead of carefully preserved. Indeed, my lord, should you wish, I would be happy to provide you with priests who will go through the collection and remove offensive or dangerous volumes..."

"No, thank you." Heero had not come to get embroiled in arguments about religion. Along with his title and fortune had come unavoidable obligations. "Duo told me that Dragonfell traditionally funds the Winter Festival and contributes to the upkeep of something called the East Chapel. I've come to discuss continuing those traditions."

The abbot brightened considerably and was further cheered at Heero's promise to continue the old earl's annual donations to the Church's various charitable works. It was in a much better frame of mind that he eventually saw the young earl out.

Heero rode back to Dragonfell slowly, lost in thought. The rumor about Duo's birth was just local gossip, but it would not have surprised him if it was true. Lord Maxwell had taught the boy to read, to defend himself -- dozens of small things a father might teach a son. Had Duo heard the rumors? He must have. What did he think?

"What do you care?" Heero asked himself aloud. With a small shock of revelation, he realized that a lot of his thinking lately had been given over to his shinigami.

It's simple curiosity. Duo is a novelty. An enigma in a world that has grown all too predictable.

But curiosities and novelties didn't necessarily bring with them speeding hearts or sweaty palms. An enigma didn't necessarily turn a man's equilibrium upside down or make him lose his temper for no reason. Was Treize right? Did he want Duo?

Heero took a deep breath and decided to test Treize's claim. He let his eyes drift shut and deliberately brought Duo's image to mind. What if he were to kiss the other youth, to taste that mouth that was so quick to smile, to slide his hand up under the ragged shirt, to feel the smooth skin?

His heart was pounding in earnest now. Heero swallowed hard, but the images, once allowed in, were not easily banished. What would Duo look like sprawled in that big bed, hair loose from the braid and pouring over the bed-linens?

Fool! He's shinigami. Onii blood. Outcast. Even before you were an earl, anything between you would have been out of the question.

But the old earl had found a way. If the rumors were true, the old earl had hired a decoy, and kept Duo's mother for himself. Had she been willing? Had she loved Lord Maxwell?

Therein lay the real uncertainty. Heero was lord. Duo was his slave. Whatever Heero asked of him, Duo was obligated to give, and that was not what Heero wanted. What he wanted, Heero realized suddenly and with painful clarity, was nothing less than Duo's whole heart, given willingly and without coercion. Shaken by the realization, Heero nearly dropped the reins.

For the first time in his life, Heero Yuy wanted something he had no certainty of getting. He took a deep breath. And why should Duo think kindly of him? Heero had walked into his life and without the least regard for his feelings, torn it to pieces.

But maybe, just maybe, he could make up for it.

Ahead was the village. Heero nudged his horse to quicken its pace. He went straight to the Gull. The innkeeper met him personally at the door.

"Is Lacy Smythe still with you?" asked Heero.

"Yes, my lord."

"Would you ask her if she would see me?"

The man looked startled, but nodded and hastened away. Heero went to a table near a window and sat down. A barmaid brought him an ale. He ordered a second for That Woman. She appeared several minutes later with a fierce scowl and the barest curtsey.

"M'lord," she said.

He waved her to the chair. She took it and eyed the glass of ale.

"What are your terms?" he asked, getting straight to it.

Her eyes narrowed on his face. Picking up the pint, she quaffed half of it and set it down again. "You serious?"

"Very. The cooking sucks and Duo's miserable."

That got her. She straightened, eyes sharpening. Polishing off the ale, she said, "What do you care about Duo?"

"I like him."

Now the glacial look was completely gone, but the sharpness was still there. "The kitchen is mine. That old dwarf stays out of my way."

"Done." He motioned for the barmaid to bring Lacy another round.

"And I have first claim on Duo's time."

"No."

She opened her mouth and he interjected neatly, "I do. You're next."

That Woman's mouth snapped shut and, she grinned. "All right. Double salary."

"It's yours. Anything else?"

"No. I think that'll do it, m'lor'."

It was a good start, Heero decided.

Chapter 14

Heero woke late the next morning, head heavy from dreams he could not remember. Autumn had arrived in earnest and the day was cold and overcast. A north wind wailed around the keep and whipped up foam-tipped waves on the bay. He washed and dressed, sending Toby to the kitchen with instructions to bring a light breakfast to the library.

On his dresser was the portfolio from the solicitor's house. Heero opened it and dumped its contents on his bed. Among all the papers and various other items was a yellowed envelope holding a key. Slipping it into the pocket of his trousers, he shoved his feet into some old, comfortable shoes and headed to the library.

Making his way into the enormous room, he shivered a little at the chill. The rain began, spattering against the distant skylights. Toby appeared with a coffee tray.

"I'll need some heat and a light," Heero ordered. Toby bowed and hurried to attend to it.

The earl took the key from his pocket and unlocked the cabinet holding the books and papers about Dragonfell. He poked through them, looking for records on the shinigami. There was nothing titled as such, so finally he gathered everything up and, making several trips, carried it all to the nearest reading table.

Toby reappeared, and with him, Duo. Duo carried an alcohol can and started when he saw the cabinet open and the books and papers laid out.

As was generally true with Dragonfell, the earl had installed the latest technology in the library. In these rooms alone, the heat was not produced by coal heaters but by smaller, cleaner-burning alcohol braziers. They could be moved around at will, placed wherever convenient.

Duo looked like he might say something, then turned away. Toby set Heero's breakfast on the end of the table not covered with papers. He poured the earl some coffee. "Will there be anything else, my lord?"

Heero shook his head and pulled out a chair. Toby hurried off.

"Are you familiar with all this?" the earl asked Duo, looking around.

"No. Lord Maxwell said that I could read everything when I was twenty."

"How old are you?"

"Just past nineteen, my lord. Would you let me?"

"Maybe," replied Heero.

Nineteen. The same age as he.

Duo nodded, gathered up the fuel can and left. Heero began sorting through the chaos of documents. His eye fell upon a fat, red leather-bound book without a title. He opened it. Hand-written on the cover page was "A History of Dragonfell by Winston Jeffrey Alexander Maxwell."

This looked promising. Heero cleared a space before him and set it down. Several pages fell open and he found an envelope wedged between them. To his surprise, his name was printed on it. Quickly, he opened it up.

"My Dear Cousin," the letter read in spare, clean script. "If you are reading this letter, then my weak heart has claimed my life and you are the owner of Dragonfell and my son."

Heero forgot to breathe. The paper trembled in his hand.

"This book is a history of Dragonfell, but unlike most approved histories, it also covers the Onii years. It documents Dragonfell from the time this awe-inspiring fortress belonged to a great Onii general. It is from that line that Duo is descended. Were it not for the fortunes of war, Dragonfell would be his castle, not ours.

"His complete lineage is documented in the book and notarized birth records of all the shinigami are kept in a safe-deposit box in the Bank of Sanc in l'Sanjil. You doubtless have that number. There is only one deliberate error in the record. Duo's father is not the man named. The rumors you've probably heard by now are true. I am his father.

"I know Duo has heard the rumors of his birth, but he does not know the truth. It would not change his status and would likely only make things harder for him, so I long ago decided that he should never know. Indeed, although it pained me to do so, I deliberately raised him in such a way that he has no unrealistic expectations of his lot in life. Even so, he is my son and I love him very much. It is my sincere hope that you will treat him kindly. He is a bright young man with a good and generous heart. He has been well educated and no one knows more about Dragonfell than he. Win his loyalty and respect and you will never find a more loyal or more useful servant.

Yours, Winston Maxwell."

"It's not working!" Hilde wailed. "Du-o-o-o-o!"

Duo set down the coal buckets and went over to the pump. He gave it a whack. Nothing. So much for his patch.

"You're gonna have to replace the pipe, which means calling a plumber. I don't have couplings or a pipe-cutter."

"Oh, don't say that!" Hilde looked panicky. "J will have a fit! The party is tomorrow! If we have to keep running out to the granary for water..."

"All right! All right! I'll see if I can patch it again, but it's just going to break!"

"What's going on?" J's voice made both of them jump. "Duo, what are you doing here? I thought I told you to fill all the coal shuttles? It's supposed to get cold tonight!"

"The pump's out again," Hilde said. "Duo says we need a plumber."

"Oh, he does, does he? I suspect Duo is just trying to avoid having to go downstairs and get all wet and dirty patching it."

Duo stared stonily at the old man and kept his mouth firmly shut. He was not going to get in trouble!

"J! Mr. J! Are you here?"

Duo's eyes widened. Lacy? J winced, turning pale. Hilde's mouth dropped.

"J!" There was a clattering and the kitchen door flew open. Lacy filled it. She had a bag in her hand and her cloak still on, round cheeks red from the cold afternoon. "There you are!"

"Madam," growled J.

"The earl talked to you, I take it?"

"Yes, madam."

"Good. Now get the hell out of my kitchen. Girl, why are you standing there with your mouth open? What's your name?"

"H-Hilde."

"Hilde? There's a big fancy party goin' on here tomorrow night. I'll be needin' some help. You got a menu?"

"Y-yes, ma'am."

"Can ya read?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Read it to me. Duo? That damn pump out again?" Lacy threw down her bag and peeled off her cloak, tossing it onto the bag. J winced.

"Uh-huh." Duo was open-mouthed.

"Fetch a plumber."

"Now just a second!" J's face was taking on an alarming, mottled flush. "Duo can fix it."

"Can you?"

"Nope. I can patch the patch, but it'll just go again, only quicker. The pipe needs to be replaced."

"See? Go get the plumber."

"You are ONLY the cook!" roared J. "All other decisions are MINE!"

"Fine. I'll go talk to the earl," retorted Lacy. She rolled up her sleeves and surged past the apoplectic steward toward the door.

"I'll patch it in the meantime," Duo said hastily to anyone who cared and bolted for the cellar stairs.

The hole was bigger this time. It was tricky getting the silicite to cover it. The stuff kept falling off onto the floor. Not having a lot, he had to stop and scrape it up again. Praying it would hold at least until the plumber arrived, he went back upstairs. Lacy was there, triumphant. Toby had been sent to fetch the plumber. J was in full, sulky retreat. Hilde was busily sifting flour and chattering away happily to the older woman.

"You're gonna stay?" Duo asked hopefully.

Lacy smirked. "Twice the salary and a room upstairs."

"Good for you," grinned Duo.

Things were looking up. Duo collected his coal buckets and resumed his interrupted journey to the upstairs bedrooms. On his way back, he stopped by the library and peered in. The earl was still there! Lord Yuy had spent the entire day at the reading table, going through all the castle's papers.

Duo may not have seen the papers, but he knew his name was there. So was his mother's name, his grandfather's and all his ancestors' before them. Lord Maxwell had told Duo once that his lineage was older than the king's.

A slave lineage, signifying shame and dishonor. That was what Lord Yuy was reading.

Suddenly Duo needed to get away. He left the empty buckets by the wall and slipped out of the keep, running down the lane to the stables. It was cold, the wind cutting through his thin cotton shirt, but the rain had stopped. He scrambled up the ladder to the loft, thinking he'd read a bit from the book he'd filched from the library. Finding his blanket, he wrapped it around himself and hunkered down in his straw nest, but he couldn't concentrate. Giving it up, Duo shoved the book back under the straw. Maybe he'd run down to Bay Cottage -- just for a few minutes to say hello.

Blanket wrapped around him like a shawl, he slipped out of the castle and over the hill. The wind had picked up, whirling red and yellow leaves from the trees. It caught his braid and whipped it around. Somehow, by the time he reached the cottage, he'd lost the tie and the thing had started to unravel.

No one answered his knock, which meant they were probably practicing in the parlor. Duo ran around the house and peered through the window. Sure enough, there they were, but they weren't practicing. Trowa and Quatre were wrapped tightly in each other's embrace, kissing passionately. Duo crept quietly away. With a pang, he wondered what it would be like to be held like that. He thought of Lord Yuy, of those intense blue eyes fixed on his, those strong hands moving down the curve of his back.

Damn it!

His feet carried him onward, down the familiar path to the beach. He collapsed on the stones just beyond the reach of the waves. Here, in the leeward curve of the bay, the wind died away a little and it wasn't quite so cold.

As he always did when he was troubled or lonely, Duo stared at the unreachable horizon and pretended that soon he would be traveling to whatever lay beyond it. Today, he let his imagination take him past Dagora to the mysterious Islands of Lemtier. There, he pretended there were no Onii, no shinigami slaves. There someone like the Earl of Wyrmhold could value him as a friend or even hold him close.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Duo's heart stumbled. He looked around to see the object of his fantasies standing at the edge of the beach, arms folded on his chest, looking at that selfsame horizon. Quickly, Duo jumped to his feet. "My lord," he exclaimed, pulling off the blanket and handing it to the earl, "you'll freeze!"

But the earl only shook his head, taking the blanket and putting it back around Duo's shoulders. "I don't feel the cold as much as most people," he replied. His hands stayed on Duo's shoulders, gently but inexorably returning the long-haired youth back to his seat on the beach. Duo's heart was pounding erratically. He clutched the blanket tight against his throat.

Lord Yuy knelt at his back a moment, Duo vibrantly aware of his nearness and his warmth. Then the earl settled on the water-smoothed stones beside him. Picking one up, he tossed it into the surf.

Duo sighed. "Am I in trouble again?"

"No."

"You're done reading Lord Maxwell's papers?"

A nod. The wind gusted, sending Duo's hair whirling. Lord Yuy caught some as it flew past his face and smiled. Duo's already unsteady heart did a flipflop.

"I like your hair."

Duo, tongue-tied, only stared. Yuy looked away, letting the fine strands go. He threw another stone. The wind was blowing in more heavy clouds. There would be rain again before morning.

"What do you think about when you come here?" asked the earl.

"About bein' out there."

"Dagora's not that great."

"Maybe not, but I'd still like to see it. I've never been anywhere. And I'd like to go farther, explore the lost continents."

"I used to imagine exploring them," the earl said unexpectedly. "When I was younger, I used to draw up maps and supply lists."

"Me, too!" Duo grinned. "There are some books in the library with really old maps. I used those."

Silence fell between them, awkward and strangely exciting.

"You know the library backwards and forwards, don't you?" the earl asked finally.

"Yep. Lord Maxwell made sure of that."

"I'd like you to show it to the guests at the party tomorrow night."

"Me? Are you sure?"

"I got several RSVPs with requests to see it."

"Heh. The usual request is to look for the famous dragonstone. No matter how learned the scholars, how full of their own dignity, me and Lord Maxwell always caught 'em pokin' around when they came to visit Dragonfell."

"There were some of those requests, too," admitted Yuy.

"Well, I can help out with the first, I guess, but not with the second. Sorry. If I find the dragonstone, I'm keeping it."

"Fair enough," was the earl's deadpan response. "Shall we go back?"

"Do I have to?"

"Yes. You need something better to wear. I got something in the village yesterday, but I'm not sure about the fit."

Now Duo was certain he was dreaming. "You bought me clothes?"

Was it his imagination or was the earl a little pinker than usual? "I don't want you embarrassing me," replied Yuy gruffly. He stood up. "Coming?"

Chapter 15

Trowa looked up. Quatre stood at the window, looking out into the twilight. His hands were clasped at his back so tightly, Trowa could see the white knuckles.

"I keep thinking that this is wrong," he continued in a low voice. "It's my duty to marry. Why not her?"

Trowa smiled crookedly. He set down his pen and rose. Quatre turned as he approached, looking up.

"And how would she feel to be tied forever to a husband who had to force himself to make love to her?"

Those blue eyes fell. "I can't believe uncle hasn't made the announcement. To let them go on thinking..."

"He knows you too well. Maybe he thinks you'll give in and return."

"I could write her again..."

"They'll claim the letter is a forgery, like the first. Only a little while longer, Quatre, and your life is your own."

"It seems like forever." Quatre wrapped his arms around Trowa's waist and leaned against him.

"I'm sorry." Trowa returned the embrace, laying his cheek against the soft, bright hair. "I know it's been hard, hiding out here, not seeing other people, never going anywhere."

"It hasn't been that bad -- not much different than Ishtaria, really. He never let me go anywhere there, either."

"I'll send word to Dragonfell that I won't be coming to the party after all," said Trowa suddenly. "We'll go up to the Gull and make a night of it."

"W-what?"

"Anyone who might possibly recognize you will be at Dragonfell. It will never be safer."

Quatre laughed and rising on tiptoe, kissed Trowa. "Don't by silly. I'm fine. Go the party. Just don't stay very long."

"Mmmm," agreed Trowa. "Whatever you say."

Heero hadn't bought just one change of clothing for his shinigami, he'd bought four. He'd only meant to get one, but while he'd been in the shop, he'd seen the others and hadn't been able to make up his mind. Now he was glad he had given in to impulse. Duo's eyes were as round as saucers and the look he turned on Heero was both pleased and embarrassed.

"Sheesh. Ya didn't have to get so much. I mean, they'll just end up gettin' wrecked..."

Heero's campaign to win Duo's goodwill seemed to be progressing nicely. "We don't know if they'll fit yet. Try some on."

Duo considered the garments laid out on Heero's bed. "This," he decided, going for the wool slacks and cotton shirt. He picked them up, then looked uncertainly at Heero.

"I'll be outside," said the Earl, and nipped into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Leaning against the wall, Heero tried not to imagine Duo taking off his clothes, tried not to picture him pulling up the soft wool around his narrow hips.

The door opened. Heero's heart stopped. Violet eyes sparkled at him. "Perfect!"

"Let's see," Heero said and managed somehow to keep his voice casual.

It was like getting punched in the face. It wasn't that Duo looked good in the clothes, he certainly did. The slacks were very well made for such a backwater tailor's shop, the drape of the soft fabric hinting at the long, strong limbs beneath. The white cotton shirt seemed to glow against Duo's sun-kissed skin and his hair, still tousled from the wind, lay in long, gleaming strands across his shoulders.

No, it was not just his undeniable attractiveness that struck Heero dumb and left him breathless. It was the simple happiness that shone in Duo's eyes, the wide, uncomplicated smile, the sheer, exuberant presence that Heero had always sensed in the young shinigami. He felt like he was in the orbit of a bright light, illuminating, warming, exciting.

Mine, thought Heero suddenly. He's mine.

His stomach lurched. There was a rush of power, dark, intoxicating, all but irresistible. By every law of gods and man, Duo was his property, his thing to do with as he wished. He could push the slave down his bed, tear the new clothes off and... He blinked rapidly. Duo was staring at him.

"Shit," said Heero. "I forgot shoes."

Duo burst out laughing. He looked down, wriggling his bare toes. "I dunno. Gives the ensemble a weird charm, doncha think, my lord?"

Heero nodded. Duo's smile died a little. "Is something wrong? I do have shoes. They're not very fancy. I usually save 'em for winter.."

"No. Go into the village tomorrow and find something appropriate."

"Thanks!" Duo turned back to the bed and the other clothes, then hesitated. When he looked back, his smile was tentative. "Ya know, I -- I haven't been the most cooperative guy since you came. I guess Lord Maxwell spoiled me or somethin'. At least, that's what Lacy's always telling me." The smile became crooked, rueful. "I'm sorry. I'll really try to do better, my lord. Promise."

Maybe it was true. Maybe those with Onii-blood did have the power to bewitch. Heero couldn't help himself. He moved with all the speed and resolution that had won him accolades on the battlefield and had Duo in his arms before the slave knew what was happening. There was a startled gasp from the long-haired man. Heero, seeing those lips part, covered them with his own.

For a second, the slim body in his arms was still and tense. Then, unexpectedly, Duo relaxed, arms coming around to circle Heero's neck, body pressing eagerly against his. It was surrender and Heero groaned, one hand reaching to tangle in all that hair, to hold Duo still while his kiss deepened.

When at last Heero could bear to part with him, he was dizzy with desire. The sight of that mouth, eyes so wide and stunned and vulnerable...oh, gods. Heero was literally shaking as he set Duo back, a small voice in the back of his head railing at him. What was he doing?

"Uh, my lord?" Duo's voice was a breath.

"I'm sorry," whispered Heero, appalled at his lack of control. "I think you'd better leave."

"I..."

Heero's voice was harsh with panic. "Take those clothes and GO!"

Duo gave a short, jerky nod. He swept the garments up and fled. When the echoes of his footsteps had died away, the Earl of Wyrmhold sank to his knees on the cold floor of his bedroom and was still there when morning came.

Wu Fei reached the abbey at dawn, riding up through heavy fog from the Lodge. A messenger had come in the night under the cover of darkness to tell him that his mercenaries had arrived. They waited in the abbey, disguised as priests, ready to move at his word.

One of them was shivering at the gate, waiting to let him in. Another led him through the main building to a dormitory at the back. There he found the men his employers had provided. They were Sancene, rough and hard-bitten. Their leader, a bearded, burly hulk called Moran, wanted to get on with it. "Why can't we pick 'im up now?" he demanded. "I thought time was o' the essence."

"The so-called musician who rents the cottage is nothing of the sort. According to a -- an acquaintance -- he is Trowa Barton, a former officer of Peacecraft's Specials. Are you being paid enough to die?"

Moran scowled and looked away. His men muttered and shuffled uneasily.

"Tonight, Barton will be attending the same party I am. You'll wait on the road near the castle. I'll give you the signal when he arrives. Take care of business and I'll catch up with you at the border."

Wu Fei left the abbey shortly after that and started back to the lodge. He went slowly, the fog making it all but impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. An early morning hush lay over the mountainside. The only sounds were the clatter of his horse's hooves and the monotonous drip of moisture from the leaves overhead.

Tonight he would leave Wyrmhold behind for hot, dusty Dragora. Once he'd handed the runaway over to his loving family, Wu Fei would board the waiting ship for the long sea voyage back up the coast to Hebronda. It was unlikely that he'd ever see Treize again.

Regret was sour in Wu Fei's mouth and he wondered at it. What did he care? Kushrenada was a potential enemy and man of shockingly few morals. Almost everything about him was in direct opposition to the teachings of Wu Fei's order and yet the Hunter could not get the duke out of his mind. The copper gleam of an autumn leaf made him think of Treize's hair, the sight of the ocean brought back memories of standing on its shore, being kissed while the pounding of his heart drowned out the pounding of the surf. By the Dragon, he needed to be away from here! Maybe then he'd regain his equilibrium and his old sense of control.

The sound of a horse coming up behind him brought Wu Fei out of his doldrums. A rider emerged from the fog. Wu Fei swore under his breath and his pulse leapt.

"Good morning," said Treize.

Sharp suspicion made Wu Fei glare and look past him up the grey-shrouded mountainside. "Are you following me?"

"Wu Fei!" Treize exclaimed in a wounded voice. "Why should I do such a thing? Our meeting is nothing more than lucky chance."

"Very lucky," agreed Wu Fei between gritted teeth.

"Perhaps not luck," continued the duke. "Maybe it's evidence of divine guidance that we should both be moved to make our obeisance to the gods this lovely morning."

Damn him, thought Wu Fei, a chill running down his spine, he knows! He's playing with me!

Treize brought his horse up to ride beside the Hunter and said only, "Well, Chang, tonight you'll have your first look at the famous library."

"I look forward to it," replied Wu Fei and marveled that his voice was steady.

"I suggested to Yuy that we organize a little treasure hunt and search for the fabled dragonstone, but he wouldn't have it. He suffers from a terrible lack of imagination, the poor guy."

"Do you expect many guests?" Wu Fei asked, mouth twitching, wondering what the "poor guy" would think to hear himself so maligned.

"About a dozen or so -- everyone who is anyone, or so I'm told. It promises to be deadly dull. You have no idea how glad I am that you'll be there."

"I don't know how long I can stay," warned Wu Fei. "You know I find such gatherings of little interest."

"I know. The rampant debauchery of sipping wine and discussing local politics," agreed Treize blandly. "Ah. Your turn-off."

Wu Fei started. He would have missed it in the fog. Treize stopped and he did, as well. Their horses stood close together. The Hunter's heart was suddenly beating fast again. When the duke leaned forward for a kiss, he returned it without hesitation. At last, Treize leaned back and there was a faint, almost distracted smile on his handsome face. "Until later," he said.

Wu Fei nodded. The duke turned and rode away, his tall form quickly swallowed in the mist. Wu Fei waited until his heartbeat had slowed to normal and his hands were no longer shaking. Then he rode back to the lodge and breakfast with Tuberov.