Trees grew sparse as the sun crossed the meridian, and the terrain grew rockier.

A fleeting smile frolicked to and fro across Séa's face. It's not the Crusade, but it's a journey. And it's not the ultimate quest, but it's a quest. By Torugg's empty socket, the air smells fresh out here.

From his rickety seat atop the undulating gelding, Ghomark glanced up at the pair perched on the tall charger. "Now, then. No possible spies out here in the scrub. Confession time."

Séa's eyebrows rose. "Short words from the wizard? Well, we'd better pay attention. Who is confessing?"

The wizard said brusquely, "The thief, first. Explain yourself."

"Oh, my. Should I be scared?" Tash drawled.

It took a moment for the word to register with the paladin. "Thief?" she blurted.

Ghomarck nodded sharply. Or maybe the gelding had stepped in a hole. He said, "Yes, Séa. Thief. Tash, you used us as cover to escape your mark. That is, your justly angered victim. It is time to clear the slate. Confess."

Séa now discovered that, while wearing plate mail, one cannot twist one's torso around to view a passenger perched on the rear end of the same horse. However, she did manage to flap her arms in protest. "You didn't really steal anything, did you, Tash?"

The white-haired sage favored the paladin with a sour expression. "Lady Séa, you're not helping. What say you, Tash?"

"Honestly, you are so righteous and serious. Lighten up, for feck's sake." The rogue huffed a lungful of air. "Yes, I took a purse from the man with the fancy shirt. There. Happy, now?"

"Oh, no," Séa groaned. "Well, we'll just have to give it back."

"The feck we will," Tash growled.

The negation flitted from corner to corner in Séa's mind, but no matter how many times it bounced, it failed to become logical. She tried again. "We absolutely should. It's the right thing to do."

"Stop. That will do," said Ghomarck firmly, "because we have more to hear, and I will go next."

More? Séa blurted, "Torugg save us! What is it, Ghomarck? If it's not theft, is it murder?"

The wizard kept one hand on the reins and clapped the other to his forehead. "Lady Séa, you're really not helping. The next point is not a confession, it's a mystery. It regards the man with the red embroidered jacket and cravat, and specifically the frilly cravat."

"The cravat caught my eye," Tash said, "but his coins were easier to nick."

Ghomarck said, "It is high quality, yes, but even more rarefied. Such scarves are made and sold exclusively in Mevia, by an eccentric gnome that harvests her own spider silk."

"Saying 'eccentric gnome' is a bit redundant," groused Séa. Why were they already on to a new topic? Why was thievery such a non-issue?

"Wait. I've heard of her," said Tash. "The 'bare-beaver weaver.' She wears only a layer of grease, so the threads don't stick."

The mage wagged his beard. "The very same. Now, I admit there might be a variety of ways the fellow might have come by it, but the simplest explanation is that the cravat is his. He bought it."

Séa's eyes narrowed and her voice dropped to a steely monotone. "In Mevia."

Vexation colored Tash's vocal tones. "You're saying the man in red is— Well, what, exactly? From Mevia?"

The wizard pursed his lips. "Some sort of agent or spy, perhaps. We will know more when Tash recites for us the contents of the coin purse that she stole."

"What? Hey, that's getting pretty personal." Tash sounded sincere, for once, with not a single theatrical inflection thrown in.

Séa mused, "Personal to the cravat-man, sure."

Agitated puffs of air hissed from the rogue's nose. "I'm starting to regret falling in with you two, but fine. Fine, all right? The purse had a mix of Mevian crowns and Omnian ducats. Which I am keeping. And also, a fancy key."

"When we stop," the wizard said, "I'll give you that instant rust potion I purchased, and you can let me inspect the key."

The facts sloshed around in Séa's head for a while and added up to very little. "I don't see why the man in red has to be sinister," she said. "Anybody would be mad if they had just had their purse stolen. He might simply be a merchant bold enough to cross the fortified border."

"That would make him a smuggler," Tash pointed out.

Séa's certainty faltered.

"Ahem," said Ghomarck. "I have one final thing to confess."

Séa sighed. "Do I get to confess something?"

"Do you have," intoned wizard, "something to confess?" Doubt dripped from his voice. Everyone always assumed that a paladin had nothing to confess. Generally, they were right, of course.

"Wull, no," Séa said.

Tash patted her pauldron. "Poor paladin. Feeling left out."

"My turn!" The wizard's eyebrows danced, and his hands waved in agitation. "It's Sir Fawk. I sent him a letter like I did Lady Séa, here, but—"

"Why?" Tash interjected. "Couldn't you have just knocked on their doors?"

"No, no, I'm a King's wizard, in Ompex. I don't live anywhere near Brook-Upon-Tricklewater. It seemed appropriate to invite heroic citizens nearer to the border who might be persuaded to assist."

Tash tapped metallically on Séa's pauldron. "Hear that? You're a hero. I knew it the moment I clapped eyes on you in that dingy tavern."

"I'm not," murmured Séa. "So, this is weird. Nobody much knows my name outside the Priory. Master Ghomarck, where were you when you heard my name?"

The wizard's eyebrows contracted. "At the duke's table, if you must know. But we are off track. As I was saying—"

Séa held up a finger. "Who recommended me? And in the same breath as Sir Fawk, no less?"

Ghomarck stuck his chin out. "It is not important."

"Glad to hear it," Séa said. "Since it's so unimportant, tell me."

"Yeah, tell her," Tash put in.

The wizard groaned, then emitted a whine similar to Tash's. "Fiiine. It was the other knight. Your nemesis."

Glad I followed my hunch. Frullan fingered me. Frullan! Séa laughed humorlessly. "I see! Well, at least it makes sense, now. Dame Frullan Sunstar sent me away to certain peril. And Sir Fawk, too!"

Wonder colored Tash's voice. "What a bitch."

The paladin pursed her lips. "Didn't know Sir Fawk was on her black list. Interesting."

Ghomarck waved his arms in agitation. "I am trying to tell you about Sir Fawk. After seeing him at the apothecary, I'm very glad we didn't get stuck with him. He seemed all show and no substance. Did he really slay Yarmond's Ogre?"

Séa shrugged. "Yes."

"Oh." Ghomarck beetled his brows.

"Him and twenty archers, that is," Séa said. "It was a short battle."

The wizard's expression cleared. "Ah! I see. Well, in contrast, Tash, here, looks competent. I'm sure she can pick locks and climb ivy-covered walls and so on."

"Thank you," Tash said. "You guessed some of my skills. Good on you, wizard. But I also have questions. For example, do you know where we are going?"

"Yes."

"What?" Séa blurted. "But you said—" The paladin nailed Ghomarck with a crusty glare. "You lied to Frullan?"

"No! Well, hardly at all. I don't know where the princess is, but I do have a contact in Millage, our immediate destination. He should be able to tell us where the princess is being held."

Friar Obel, honestly, I'm not finding all this lying entertaining. To the contrary, it's giving me a headache. "What was all that about divination and scrying and so on?" She shook a finger at the wizard. "Lies, is what. Lies."

Ghomarck projected the very soul of innocence. "My tangential anecdotes were the mildest of mild misdirections. I made no actual claims or promises. I am free to wag my tongue as I will." He squinted at Séa. "This is a secret mission, in case I didn't make that clear, earlier."

"So we're headed to Millage?" Séa said.

"Yes."

"That's across the border. In Mevia."

"Yes."

Séa felt her eyebrows pinch together. "Well, there's a war on, you know?"

Ghomarck shrugged. "If you have articles of clothing with Omnian insignia, remove said insignia. We appear as three simple travelers, nothing more. We will be able to travel freely."

"Travel freely? These days? In the borderlands? That's hokum," Tash said.

She was dead right.