"What were you thinking?" Arch paced back and forth in front of his desk, his hands on his hips. His hair was sticking up at odd angles from running his hand through it so many times. Zia had hardly seen him like this, and seeing him irritated sent a chill down her spine. "What could you possibly have gained from doing that?" Arch demanded.

"They were being-"

"Men?" Arch said, stopping his pacing to look at her. "I don't know if you realize this, Zia, but men don't respect women who are strong. Men need to feel like they're stronger than women."

"But why?" Zia complained. "Just because it's been that way for thousands of years-"

"Exactly," Arch said as he began his pace once more. "It's been that way for thousands of years. And I think we both know that's the way it's going to be for a thousand more to come."

"That still doesn't change the fact that I was able to take them both down," Zia said. Normally she didn't take such pride in her fighting skills, but this time was different; she was defending herself.

"Precisely!" Arch said as he once again stopped his pace to face her, hands still on his hips. "Zia, do you know where those men were from?"

"A village out east?" she guessed.

"No, they were from a very well-connected family in a northern city," Arch said. He began to pace again while he said, "They have threatened to leave us."

"So?" Zia asked. She could go on with life just fine without those two jerks demanding her to leave.

"So," Arch said, getting more agitated, "our location could be revealed; our men's lives could be lost. If King Donathan were to find out where we are located, this hideout would be over-run with Guards before you could say 'my bad'."

The fullness of the situation came crashing down on Zia like water cascading over her. In her few moments of blind rage and pride, she may have unraveled the happy and somewhat peaceful life she'd had for twelve years.

"Did... did they leave?" she asked quietly, now looking down at the floor.

"Not yet," Arch said. "I've convinced them to stay a while longer... and I've worked something out with them to stay permanently... if you're willing to cooperate, that is."

Arch could never hid things from Zia, and she knew he was hiding something from her now.

"And what is it I have to do?" Zia asked carefully, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer or not.

"Well, as you can imagine, they demanded that I kick you out-"

"Fat chance of that," Zia growled.

"-but I was never going to let that happen, of course, so I lowered them down to an apology."

Zia stared at him like he had dropped from the sky. "An apology?"

Arch nodded.

"No. Not going to happen," Zia said.

"Zia, it's either you give them a two-second apology or everyone in this camp dies." Arch's voice was hard and sent a chill down Zia's back. He spoke the truth, and it allowed her to put aside her stubborn pride and realize what was really going on.

After a long inward battle with herself, Zia finally huffed, and growled out, "Fine, I'll give them a stupid apology. But don't think for one moment that I actually mean it." Then, without waiting for a reply, she stormed out of the tent, leaving Arch shaking his head behind her.

Zia, still fuming, stomped up the hill to the fire where one of the men said he had last seen the new recruits. The sun had gone down now, but Zia could still make out two large figures sitting by the flames, that could only be the men Zia was looking for. She could hear the squeaky-voiced brother laughing and talking loudly with the other men around the fire. Zia doubted they would leave when they appeared to be having such a grand time.

As she reached the peak of the hill, all conversation stopped and Zia found herself right in front of the two brothers. They had apparently heard her coming, because they were both now glaring daggers at her. Zia had to resist the temptation to glare right back. Ike had told her before that her stare was more menacing than others' because of the unnatural color of her eyes. She wished that the brothers could see that glare now, that they would tremble before her and beg her for her forgiveness, but of course that would never happen.

"I'm sorry," Zia spat out, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "I am so terribly sorry for..." She hesitated. How could she possibly say something referring to their fight without embarrassing them? "I'm sorry for the little.... brawl we had earlier." That sounded safe. It didn't imply that she beat them, but it did say that she acknowledged what had happened.

"Apology accepted," the gruff-voiced one said. "Now go tie your hair in some ribbons or something."

Zia's pride swelled and she was about to tell him off when Arch's warning of death and carnage came back to her, and she was able to rein in her anger. Instead of a biting comment, she said, "I never caught your names."

The deep-voiced one glared at her, but the other one tilted his head with a thoughtful look on his face. He seemed to find her rather odd, as if he had never met a woman who could fight like a demon and still have manners at the same time. "I'm Hamish," he said. "This here is my brother, Ryker."

Zia nodded politely, keeping her pride at bay. "My name is Zia." She struck her hand out for them to shake, a custom that was common mostly among men. Women preferred a kiss on the hand or a slight bow. Zia didn't think they would ever bow down to her, and she didn't want their lips anywhere near her hand.

Hamish, who Zia now decided was the nicer of the two, reached out to grip her hand, but Ryker slapped it away.

"Shaking hands is for men," Ryker said gruffly. "You're not a man."

"Just figured that out?" Zia muttered under her breath.

"What was that?" he demanded.

"Have you tried that stew out?" she said smoothly, pointing to an abandoned bowl on the log next to them. "Cook did an excellent job today."

Hamish was about to reply, but just then Zia heard the pounding of steps as someone climbed the slope of the hill. From the frequency of the pounding, Zia guessed he was running.

She turned to find Heath panting in front of her, his eyes wide and his face uncharacteristically pale. "What is it?" she asked him.

"Security breech," Heath panted, trying to recapture his breath. "We have company."

The intruders were a party of five. One of the men held a large banner, which Zia thought was pointless since no one could see anything but different hues of gray and black. Another was on horseback, and he rode with great dignity and finesse, like he had been riding his whole life. This alone was enough to convince Zia that he was a rich man. Only the very wealthy could afford horses, even though most villagers' houses had stables. The other men were tall, had broad shoulders, and Zia could hear their armor clanging as they marched in a circle around the one on horseback, who was obviously their leader.

The Thieves were all gathered around, hidden in the trees, spying on the party as they strode through their camp. 

Zia could tell by intruders' manner that they were expecting a fight. The men in armor hadn't let their hands stray far from the handle of their swords; they were stiff and jumped at the nearest sound. Their nervousness proved to Zia that they knew where they were, that they were not just a lost party that somehow stumbled through the Thieves' borders.

Zia crouched down low in the underbrush, Heath at her side. He was so close Zia could feel his body heat radiating from him.

The intruding party passed by Zia and Heath, heading towards the largest tent. It was easy to pick out, especially since it was the first thing in sight when one first entered the camp.

Heath leaned his head towards Zia's ear and spoke so low she had to strain to hear. "I think they may be here to arrest Arch."

Worry went through Zia. Was this an arrest party? They could be, given the looks of them. Could that banner the one man was holding have the Silver Dragon stitched on it?

She leaned over to whisper back in Heath's ear and voiced her concerns.

"By the looks of it," Heath whispered back, "they're armed and expecting a fight. That could mean that they're either expecting Arch to cause trouble or for him to attack."

Zia nodded her head in agreement. She stiffly jerked her head towards the tent and, silently as a slithering snake, rose to her feet and wove through the trees in a crouch until she arrived near Arch's tent. Heath followed her, keeping close by.

Zia and Heath had arrived at the tent moments before the intruders did, hidden in shadow, but they weren't fast enough to sneak inside without being noticed to warn Arch to get to safety.

"Arch Reems!" The voice of the man on horseback rang through the camp. His voice was deep and gruff, and for some reason very familiar to Zia. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had heard that voice before.

The tent flap opened up and Arch strode out, the glow from candles inside casting light briefly on the face of the intruders. What Zia saw nearly made her gasp, which would have given both her and Heath's position away.

Zia's hand strayed to the hilt of the sword that she always kept tied to her leather belt. She held the leather grip firmly, prepared to draw and jump into a fight at any given second. They may have been too late to warn Arch, but Zia would lay down her life defending him if it came down to it.

Zia studied Arch's face. It held no surprise, only a look of concern. He appeared at complete ease, but his calm demeanor did little to sooth Zia's taut nerves.

"You called?" Under different circumstances, Zia would have laughed at Arch's reply, but this was no joking matter.

One of the men strode toward Arch, and Zia sprung into action. Drawing her sword, she leaped into the clearing and landed gracefully between Arch and the armor-clad man who had stepped forward. She had her sword out and pointing menacingly at his chest, though he was still a few strides away from the point.

Zia couldn't see the faces of the men because of the absence of the moon that evening, but Zia could easily see each of their outlines. They were all armed with swords and nothing else- at least, that's how it appeared. Zia would have bet her left foot that they had knives and daggers hidden in various places under their armor.

Zia heard the flap of the tent open again, momentarily bathing the party in light before it closed once more. In those few moments of light, Zia saw the faces of the intruders for the first time. They were all pale and scared; even the one on horseback looked nervous. The one holding the banner was shaking like a leaf, and he was bearing the Otarian seal, just as Zia had expected. The face of the one she held her sword to, however, nearly made her drop her sword. Hesitantly, lowering her sword slightly, she said, "Jay?"

The man stiffened and took a step back. "How do you know me?" His voice was the same as it had been the day they met, a day that would forever be branded in Zia's memory.

"It's Zia," she said. Then she thought how ridiculous it was to assume that the Captain of the Royal Guard would remember her from their brief acquaintances a dozen years ago.

"Zia?" His voice rang with recognition, and Zia couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.

"What are you doing here?" She raised her sword back to his chest and glared at him even though he couldn't see her in the dark. Her voice was hard as stone, and she was careful not to let her thoughts cloud her judgment. She may have known Jay in the past, but if he tried to arrest Arch, he'd have a hard time getting through her to do it.

"Zia, at ease," Arch said, trying to push her aside. She stubbornly stayed where she was. Arch had sacrificed so much for her, and Zia could never repay that. But defending him with her life seemed like a good start.

"We've come to negotiate." This came from the man on horseback. Zia still couldn't place where she had heard that voice before, but then it hit her: the seal; the Captain of the Guard. It was King Donathan! The one and only man who had sentenced Daxtor to death all those years ago.

"Well, Your Highness," Arch said, stepping around Zia, "if you'll just come in." Arch's tone was light and unconcerned, as if he were inviting an old friend in for tea. Out of the corner of her eye, Zia saw Arch gesture to the tent flap.

"I'll do no such thing until your... girl lowers her weapon." Donathan's voice was hard and offered no argument.

Zia was about to make a snappy remark when her sword arm was pushed down by a large hand. Barely glancing his way, Zia saw it was Ike. He must have been the one who had exited the tent, giving her the light she needed to see what she was up against.

"Sheath it, Zia," Ike said in a soft but firm voice. She had never seen him looking more serious. That alone was enough to convince her do as he said. She slid her sword back into its sheath at her hip, but her hand never strayed too far from the hilt.

The King dismounted and strode up to Zia, looking her over carefully. Zia stared right back, glaring. If he was here to negotiate the terms of Arch's surrender, he'd have hard time of doing it.

Jay strode forward too and stopped next to Donathan. He stared at Zia like she was a ghost.

"Your Majesty," Arch said. "Please, come in."

Donathan was large in stature and he had to bow through the doorway. Jay followed closely behind. Arch ducked in after the Captain, and Zia was right on his tail. When Arch noticed she had accompanied them, he looked like he wanted her to leave; he was sending her stern looks of pleadings, threats, and worry. Zia ignored them all and stood in the corner behind Arch's desk so she could see the faces of the men before her.

Donathan's once-blonde hair was now white as snow. His face held many more worry lines and wrinkles than most men his age had. Then again, most men his age didn't have to run a kingdom in the middle of a war. His eyes, however, were just as Zia remembered them from that trial twelve years ago: bluer than the Halvin sea and just as hard. Yet, they also held a very dormant happiness that Zia knew would make the King look much younger if it would show itself.

Jay had aged a bit, but his good looks hadn't faded at all. His once clean face now had dark stubble, and his brown hair was as untidy and messy as ever. His brown eyes looked at his surroundings carefully, taking in every detail. When they landed on Zia, she felt uncomfortable. The first time Zia had met him, she had been worried that he would take her back to her father. But this time, she was worried he might take her new one away.

Arch stood behind his desk and offered a seat to the King and his Captain. They sat and Arch pounced on the subject immediately. "So, Your Highness, what brings you to our humble camp?" His tone was light and conversational, but Zia sensed so much more in that question than what was being asked.

"Like I said before, Reems, we're here to negotiate." The King's voice was hard, and before Zia could wonder why the most powerful man in the kingdom would need to negotiate with a unit of Thieves instead of just arresting them, he answered for her. "The war is brutal," he said. "The Skilaens have more of a fighting force than we predicted, and we've lost the lives of hundreds upon thousands of men, women, and children."

He paused, as if waiting for Arch to say something. When he didn't, he continued. "Times are hard, and my spies have informed me that the Skilaens are planning something vile for our kingdom. What we need is a secret force that can put an end to our enemy's plans without too many Otarian casualties; a party that can change the tide of the war."

He stopped and looked expectantly at Arch. "You want the Thieves of Otar to help fight the war," Arch said finally.

"Exactly," Donathan said. "A force of your best men could put this war behind us."

Arch was silent for a long time. Zia herself was thinking over the possibilities. If Arch agreed, he would be letting his best men leave at the camp, which the King now knew the location of. If he refused, the King and his Guards would have no problem arresting them all and sentencing them to death. On second thought, Zia realized, the King's troops were all tied up in the war- if His Majesty's story was true, and Zia saw no reason for him to be lying.

"I would love to help, Your Majesty," Arch said. "But how do I know this isn't some ploy to get my best defenders from the camp so that you can attack when we are weaker in numbers?"

Zia shuddered at Arch's words. The idea of her new home being completely destroyed made her cringe.

Donathan nodded thoughtfully. "You are a wise man, Reems. I can assure you, however, that I have no desire to arrest you or your men."

"I mean no disrespect, Your Highness, but your assurance isn't all the assuring, considering our circumstances."

Zia knew what he meant. The King had just found the most secret part of the woods and strode in like he owned the place. Although, Zia thought, technically he does own it. But that was beside the point! The most powerful man in the kingdom now knew the location of hundreds of Thieves. He could have the entire camp attacked in a few hours, and Zia's entire world could be reduced to nothing.

"How did you find this place?" Zia asked the King, speaking for the first time since entering the tent.

"I've been searching for the location of your Headquarters for months- years, really." Donathan admitted. "We only found it when we got wind that two new recruits would be coming here today. My men tailed them here this morning and sent for me as soon as they were certain of the location."

The tent was silent. Finally Arch said thoughtfully, "You say you come to negotiate?" 

The King nodded. 

"Very well, then," Arch said, "I will oblige. If I do answer your plea, can I insure that this camp and all those who live in it will remain protected and untouched?"

Donathan nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I believe you can."

"And," he went on, "can I trust that this place will remain secret to the outside world?"

"My men are sworn into secrecy," the King assured him.

Arch fell silent once again. This quiet seemed to last longer than all the others. Zia wanted to know what he would say, and His Highness and Jay appeared to be in the same boat.

"Very well, then," Arch said, stretching forth his hand for the King to shake. "When shall we sort out the details?"