Holding tight to Mary, William peeked inside the doorway of the place where all the noise was coming from. The room was filled with smoking candles stuck in mounds of wax on long tables filled with people. Large pitchers of mead were handed from person to person around the room, each drinking a mouthful and passing it on. As he looked, a large hand clamped on his shoulder dragging him inside the doorway and face to face with the ugliest man William had ever seen.

"Wot 'ave we 'ere then. Such a pretty lad." William jerked away, keeping Mary behind him.

"We- I'm looking for an inn or someplace to stay the night."

The man hooted loudly. "An inn! My, my, the young master wants an inn does 'e. I reckon you want nice white covers and a roarin' fire as well then."

William blushed, raising his chin. "Just a place to sleep, sir. Nothing as grand as you describe."

The man leaned closer, his foul breath pinching William's nose closed. "Wotcha got hidin' back there then?"

Mary let out a squeak and clutched the back of William's jacket. "If you can't help me, sir, I'll just thank you and be on my way." He half turned and pushed Mary toward the door.

"'Old on there my young buck." The large hand gripped his shoulder again and the shout drew the attention of many others in the room.

"Whose yer pretty friend, Bill?" Someone shouted and soon there were jeers and catcalls from all over. William doubted that good manners and a civil tongue would buy much respect in this place and he steeled himself for whatever might come, which didn't take long. The man reached past him, grasping Mary's hair, and as she screamed, William planted a solid fist alongside the man's nose, wincing as he heard the crunch and felt the spatter of warm blood on his cheek.

The crowed roared with laughter as the man called Bill staggered back bellowing in pain. Taking the opportunity, William pushed Mary out the door and the two of them raced down the street through the mud. When they reached a dark part of the street, William pulled her close to a rotting wall and peered carefully back down the road. On the porch of the drinking house, he could see the silhouette of the man called Bill, holding his face and staring up and down the black street.

"A very pretty exhibition, my young lad." The voice out of the darkness behind them made the pair jump, and William stepped forward, fists clenched. "Oh ho, don't be hitting out at me, I'm just an old man enjoying the entertainment."

William leaned forward, squinting to make out the features of the speaker. "Who are you? What manner of place is this that barricades its gates and permits no one in or out?"

"You really don't know where you are?" The old man moved out of the shadow and studied the pair. "Dear lad, you are in the Robber's Den!"

"The Ro- Robber's Den! I thought that was just a legend!"

A soft chuckle. "Well, let's just say it's legend-ary." He nodded at their reaction, waiting while they let the news sink in before speaking again. "You and your friend can sleep the night in here, it will be quite safe. And in the morning I will see you safely out of the village, before the gates open."

William looked at him with reserve. "Why would you offer to help us?"

"Anyone able to deliver a heap of hurt on Bully Bill deserves more than just help, he deserves a prize. Believe me, there is no one more worthy. You'll notice that no one jumped to defend him."

"I still don't see—"

"This is why." William gulped as the old man held up a stump of an arm. "Bully Bill didn't like the way I clapped at his jests. I would do anything to make his existence miserable."

Without another word, the couple followed the old man inside, thanked him for his aid and settled down for the night on a heap of soiled rags in one corner of the shack.

******

A gentle poke woke William from a deep sleep. He sat with a start, rubbing his eyes and focusing on the figure before him. In the pale light of dawn, the old man didn't appear quite as menacing; the soft brown eyes framed by a spider web of wrinkles seemed friendlier. He nodded at the man's gesture for silence and wakened Mary with a gentle shake, placing his hand near her mouth in case she cried out.

"Shhh, it's time to leave. Gather your things and follow me." The old man pushed aside a pile of damp, dirty hay exposing a rotting wooden wall. "Slide that board aside and you can slip through there. You'll be on the south side of the town but don't go out to the road; Bully Bill will be on the lookout you can bet. The main gates will be opening soon so you'd better hurry."

William moved the board aside and helped Mary through then before slipping out himself, he turned and patted the old man's arm, thanking him for all his help. "Thank you," the brown eyes twinkled, "I can't wait to see the mess of Bill's face."

******

Nygard was a magical city to newcomers. Clean, bright streets wound gently among well kept dwellings; flowers and trees proliferated the town, their smells a delicious treat to the nose. Buildings decorated with bright colours housed the town's merchants who conducted business noisily on the street in front of their shops.

The streets were crowded with shoppers, horses and carts, children darting in and out of stalls and women haggling over the rainbow of materials draped across the stands. The sun was warm on the shoulders and the streets; people smiled, and the air was filled with chatter and laughter. Jep pushed his way through the crowds to the town square and found a seat along the edge of the stone wall that formed the town well.

Two burly men, with sweat stained shirts, continually cranked the pulley that raised and lowered several large buckets from which people filled their containers. As relaxing and comfortable he felt in town, Jep had absolutely no idea where to start looking for Gwendolise. He decided that his best chance was to go to the council office, as he had in Dyst, and begin his search there. The next step was to find the council office.

A pleasant woman dressed in colourful shawls, which she was hawking from a large woven basket, directed Jep to his destination for the price of one purchase. He stuffed the shawl in his pack and followed the directions she had given him. The building was far grander than the decrepit structure in Dyst. Here there were colourful flags blowing from stanchions arrayed across the façade.

Fancy, hand written lettering announced the offices of the Nygard town council and merchant's guild. Jep stepped into the cool shade of the exceptionally clean foyer, halted by the impact of the stunning artwork that adorned the walls. Across the room at a small desk, a young woman busily wrote in a large ledger, and when she saw Jep, she smiled and beckoned him over.

"Good day, sir. What might I do for you?" Her voice was soft and melodious, and Jep felt himself smiling from ear to ear.

"I'm trying to find information on the whereabouts of a young woman." Her look caused him to blush and he fumbled through a short explanation of why he was searching for this particular person.

"Our town prides itself on the quality and detail of our records. We have records for everything from the cradle to the grave."

Jep's smile waned slightly at the intensity of the woman's zealousness. "I uh- I'm impressed M'lady. Could I impose upon you to see if the person I seek is among those records?"

She closed the ledger with a thunk, placing her quill in the glass jar on the corner of the table, and immediately stood, walking to a cabinet and withdrawing a sheaf of papers. "If you will just complete these papers, sir, I will forward them to our councilmen."

Jep looked with dismay at the sheet of questions. "What is this for?"

"It's an application, sir. We don't just give out information without examining an application first. It's all part of our fine record keeping system."

"Well, how long will this all take?"

"Two weeks, after you've filled out the papers and paid the twenty silver pieces."

"TWENTY SILver pieces!" Jep exploded incredulously. "All I want to know is if she is still around, I don't want anything personal."

The woman placed her hands on her hips and gave him a stern look. "Those are the rules sir, and if you don't care for them, there is the door." The pleasant voice that had greeted him now sounded hard and shrewish as she pointed haughtily and returned to her work.

Back on the street, Jep counted to ten and let himself calm down. He would just have to find someone else to ask. He wandered over to a crowded stall where people were haggling over the cost of large wooden baskets of produce. A young man stood to one side, putting the agreed upon purchases into small sacks. Jep greeted the young man and asked if he new of someone in the town who might be a good source for gossip and information.

"Only if you are willing to pay," he answered. "In Nygard, nothing is free."

"I'm just looking for a young woman who passed through here some time ago, or maybe even stayed."

"Have you purchased anything since you arrived?"

"No- yes, a shawl from an old woman. Why?"

The young man set down his sack and led Jep by the arm to a private corner of the stall. "Before you can leave the city, you must go before the Grand Duke with your purchase and pay whatever tax he imposes. If you had purchased nothing, you would have been charged for just visiting, but it's too late for that now."

Jep gawked at him, wondering if it was a jest. "What if I just say I bought nothing?"

"The Duke's men will search you and confiscate all your possessions. If you show them that you bought something, they won't bother, even if you don't show them everything. The Grand Duke gets his payment anyway."

Jep certainly didn't want the Duke getting his hands on the Key. He began to worry about what he had gotten himself in to. "What if I can't pay?"

The young man shrugged. "Then you have to work it off like most of us are trying to do. It takes a long time," he added ruefully.

Jep considered his predicament, concluding that his priority was still to find Gwendolise. He would worry about taxes later. He pressed the young man for information, surrendering two of the few coins he owned when he learned that a young maid named Gwenbo worked in an inn called the Iron Staff.

"Take care my friend. That is where most of the Duke's men spend their free time."

Jep thanked him, and following his directions, set out for the Iron Staff; the name Gwenbo sounded promising indeed.