The Taleweaver
The Roadhouse

Late in theevening Arthur and Harbend finally made their way to the gates. Froma distance it looked like a small fortress on a low hill, but now thewalls loomed over them like a dark giant.

A cold windhad been tearing into them since darkness fell and it was only thanksto their warm clothing they weren't chilled through.

The stonewalls seemed impregnable and impossibly high. Climbing the windingroad Arthur realized it was far steeper than he first imagined. Notrees or cliffs to hide behind and anyone on the walls would be ableto spot travelers long before they were close to the gate. Arthurguessed anyone on the walls would be able to do much more than that.

Likepointing something sharp at me. And I'd never even know whathappened.

"Thereat last," Harbend muttered. He turned to his companion andsmiled. "During wartime they would have hailed us a long timeago." Accent still peculiar, but his grasp of English far betterthan Arthur's fledgling attempts at De Vhatic. "We are a bitlater than I would have liked," Harbend continued, smiling.Arthur groaned silently at the understatement. "Let us hope theystill have rooms for us. Otherwise I guess we shall have to make dowith the stables. Well, first we need to replace out if they will evenopen the gate at such a late hour."

This timeArthur groaned loudly. His legs ached from the long ascent and he wasravenously hungry. Horses tired as well -- he'd been more or lessforced to pull his disobedient animal the last kilometer. He gaveHarbend a sour look and was met by a teasing grin.

Harbendknocked on the gates, still smiling, and within moments they swungopen soundlessly, revealing a narrow courtyard and two armed men.They quickly waved the weary travelers through and into the walledspace where yet another gate beckoned. They passed the second gateand were inside the walls.

Arthursighed with relief and noted how much he'd missed being in a townwhere he didn't have to rely on moonlight or a travelers lamp. A manarrived and Arthur listened to a smattering of words exchangedbetween Harbend and the groom. After that a few coins changed handsand their horses were led away.

"Whatabout the wagon?" Arthur asked.

"Willbe taken care of," Harbend answered. "Now we shouldconcentrate on a hot bath, an evening meal and a warm bed.Enjoy yourself. You have traveled better than I dared hope, so youare entitled to a good time now."

Arthur knewembarrassment then. He was being praised for doing something Harbendprobably saw as just another unavoidable part of life as a travelingmerchant.

"No, Imean it," Harbend said as if guessing Arthur's thoughts. "Mostpeople from Verd would not be able to handle themselves during a longjourney. You told me you live in a city in your world so I expectedyou to behave like one city born. I am happy to say that you are afast learner."

"Thankyou, I guess," Arthur stammered, uncertain of what to say. Hestill felt uncomfortable, but something in him very much enjoyedHarbend's acceptance and in the end he just smiled gratefully.

For a whilehe just stood there, silent, remembering the journey and taking inhis surroundings. Stables nearby, to their left, and men talkingwhile grooming their horses. At least he assumed it was their horses.The pungent smell of manure almost welcoming, a reminder they were nolonger forced to sleep with the sky as their ceiling. To his right aclosed store, its wooden shutters telling him it was very late andthat he ought to replace a place indoors. Stomach loudly agreeing hecaused Harbend to give him an amused look before leading him towardsthe houses further away.

Most smallone and two stories buildings. Having expected a fortress Arthur wasnot prepared for the mass of wooden houses, some even with thatchedroofs. A few of the buildings they passed were erected by simplylaying layers of logs on top of each other and sealed with whatArthur thought was moss, but most the work of a proper carpenter,some even displaying large, glassed windows. He noted lamps of thesame kind as those used in Verd, only much smaller, and it was alltoo clear that this was not the bustling city he'd spent his firstfew weeks in. Neither noise nor smell those of a large city and thenarrow streets almost deserted. He slowly understood that thenightlife making Verd strangely familiar to him also made it veryunique in this world.

They roundeda corner. Arthur almost knocked over a couple of empty barrels leftfor the night and Harbend stepped under an archway leading to aclosed door. Without knocking he pushed it open and entered. Arthurfollowed him into a corridor ending in a large room with severalrough tables and chairs along three of the walls. The smell of spicyfood was strong here and Arthur's mouth watered as his stomach onceagain loudly complained about dinner being far too late.

The ceilingwas awkwardly low and forced him to bend to avoid banging his head onthe beams as they made their way further into the room. Less thanhalf the tables occupied. Apparently most of the diners had alreadyfinished and gone to sleep. A few heads rose to see the newcomers butno one seemed to recognize him.

Arthur satdown at a table, waiting for Harbend to place their orders.

Even beforeHarbend was finished talking with the bearded man in the kitchen aserving girl came up to the table with a jug and two glasses. Pretty,with a slightly exotic face Arthur couldn't place, wearing a brown,woolen jacket and a heavy, striped skirt from under which a pair ofno nonsense boots protruded. He smiled at her.

"Manygreat thanks... your services to me welcome," he said to her andshrugged apologetically when she didn't seem to understand. Watchingher depart he slowly became aware of the room being far warmer thanthe night outdoors and he pulled off his heavy coat. He'd just placedit on an empty chair when Harbend returned to the table.

"Theyhave rooms for the night. One for us each, and there is a bath housejust behind the kitchen. If you want we can get clean before we eat."Harbend was still pointing at the door next to the kitchen.

Arthur, eventhough famished, began to realize how dirty he was, tiredly left hischair, grabbed his bag, slung the coat over his shoulders andstaggered away in the suggested direction. The stone floor felt veryhard to feet almost adjusted to the thought of resting and his hipsached from a long day spent riding and walking.

The bath washeaven.

Harbendsmiled at the sight of his friend shoveling food into his mouth. Afull season after his arrival he no longer looked like a festivalclown. Hair showing a lot of brown beneath the faded blue and a facenow belonging to someone in good shape. Most of the fat had gone andmuscles were building. Harbend was surprised a man of Arthur's agecould trim his body so fast. Some of the lines criss crossing hisface were gone but others had come in their stead. There was moredetermination to be read there now, a stability grown during thejourney.

Harbend wasmore than content with the events leading to him being coerced intobringing such a strange friend along on the journey. Smiling Harbendpaid some attention to his own food. The smell of peppers, salt andmutton made him dig his knife into the stew. Only after stilling hisworst hunger did he feel how boiled tomatoes and horseradish mixedwith local spices added life to the meat.

He leanedback, raised his glass and drank a deep draught of wine. A decentwine, nothing special, but not the awful swill too often served whenone left the main roads in Keen.

Looking uphe saw traces of soot on the ceiling revealing the presence of alarge fireplace hidden around a corner where his eyes couldn't reach.Wherever it was, it evidently saw much use during winter.

Late eveningbroke into full night and he guessed the innkeeper wanted them todepart for their rooms. They both swallowed the last of their wine,thanked him and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Harbend badeArthur goodnight and made for his room.

It was smallbut clean. A narrow bed with a brown, woolen blanket clung to a walland in the only window he saw his own features reflected in theimperfect glass. The walls were bare apart from a hanger for his lampand in a corner a small wardrobe hid in the shadows.

He quicklyundressed and rather than spend time hanging his clothes in thewardrobe he simply threw them in a disorderly pile on a lonely chairstanding beside a worn table. Almost naked he blew out the lamp,fumbled for his bed and lay down on linen sheets. Shortly afterwardsleep claimed him.

"Areyou sure there have been no travelers from Ri Khi here the lasteightday or so?"

"I'msorry. Can't help you there sir. Only local hunters and a peddlerfrom Erkateren."

Harbendswore silently. So much for that addition. Well, it couldn't behelped. The wagon train was still almost as large as he'd hoped forwhen he started planning back in Verd. He smiled at the merchant.

"Ishall buy one barrel of salt and as much dried meat as you have."

"Sir?That's more than a wagon's worth."

"I havea wagon train coming in two days from now."

"Wagontrain, sir?"

"Yes,we are bound for the mountains later. I am reopening the caravanroute to Braka."

The smallman stared at Harbend as if struck.

"Butthat's fantastic, sir!"

"Yes,yes, could you spread the word. Over a hundred wagons coming in. Alot of hungry men and women. Horses that needs tending."

"Willdo, sir. Most certainly!"

A glimmer ofgreed suddenly flared in the eyes of the local merchant. It couldn'tbe helped. They'd need the people here to start preparing to feed andlodge more men and horses than any of them had ever seen in thisplace. He had to talk with the innkeeper to get to know which housescould take in guests for a few nights, and of course to prepare theresidents to take up cooking as a temporary profession for the sametime.

"What'sthat?" Arthur said as they passed a door just before their owninn. It had a sign hanging over it he didn't recognize.

Harbendthrew a glance in the direction Arthur pointed. "That is theTaleweaver's Inn."

Arthur wasperplexed, trying to remember, and Harbend laughed.

"Yes,you have heard the expression earlier. Remember our last evening inVerd?"

"Yes,but we didn't go to a place with this sign there."

"Thereis one, but you are right. We did not. I told you about tales andtheir value."

Now Arthurremembered. "But that's bloody marvelous! Why don't we go in andlisten to a tale here then?"

"Becausewe cannot. It is open only for those in the profession."

"Oh.Wait a minute. Damn it, I'm of that profession." Arthur sawHarbend's expression. "Sorry, minute, measurement of time inEnglish. About the time it takes you to walk a hundred paces."Harbend still wore that look on his face. "What is it?"Arthur asked.

"I knowwhat a minute is, approximately at least, but you are saying youshould be allowed into a Taleweaver's Inn. Now that is what I calloverconfidence."

Arthur feltresentment rankling in him. "Now my dear Harbend de Garak,merchant superior with your own trading house. I'm Arthur Wallman. Ientertain with words of wonder. Whenever one of my shows is displayedback home more people watch it than live on this world. My GoldenSecret shows have an audience so large the total number of souls thatever inhabited this planet from times forgotten to today doesn't evencome close." The tingling of excitement that usually came justbefore a performance suddenly crept through him. "Where I comefrom I'm not just a taleweaver. I'm the taleweaver all rising starsare compared with in the feeble hopes they may ever ascend to mystatus."

Harbendbacked away and Arthur resolutely knocked on the door. It opened andhe saw a wrinkled face peering out at him.

"Whatdo you want here?" The question was basic enough to understandeven though it had been spoken in De Vhatic.

Arthurturned to Harbend. "I could need some help with translation."

"Forgetit," Harbend answered and shook his head. "If you fail toeven make yourself understood well enough to be let in then youshould not be let in at all. I shall have a meal." He quicklyvanished into the doorway to their own inn.

Arthurstarted to feel stupid. How did he expect to understand anything toldeven if he was allowed inside? Damn! He'd show Harbend anyway.

"Mywish license to enter."

"This... is open for ... only. You ... not enter."

Arthurconsidered giving up, but persistence wouldn't allow him.

"I ..."He searched his mind. "I taleweaver by profession. My wish toenter."

The old manin the doorway gave him a look filled with scorn, but he did stepaside to give room for Arthur. He entered.

"Now,bold stranger, would you care to explain that obvious lie to me."

Arthurstarted. The words were in English. No they weren't, only as ifthey'd been spoken in English, but he somehow knew he was hearing DeVhatic as if it had been his own native language.

"How?Why?"

"Youcome to our door with a ridiculous claim, and you want to askquestions?" The face split in a smile. "The edict forces meto allow entrance to anyone who claims to carry tales, so come in.Who are you to speak a language I don't know? Not De Vhatic, nor Khior Kordic. With your face you could have spoken Hirgish, Kastarian oreven Vratistaric unlikely as that may be, because you don't look likethe son of a hunter of the seas. However, you use none of thosetongues, so I must assume you are one of those we call outworlders."

Arthurlistened to the convoluted question. "I'm from Earth, yes,"he answered after a while. "My name is Arthur Wallman. Before Icame here I ran a newscaster with myself as the anchor. Before that Imade my living, a very successful living, mind you, talking in frontof a camera."

The manlooked confused, and for a while Arthur was afraid whatever magicworked this place didn't handle English.

"Iunderstand what you're saying, yet not. The knowledge of conceptscannot be translated to the mind unless grabbed, but that's aviolation not to be committed by anyone."

Arthurwasn't sure he'd understood fully, but it made sense that some thingshe took for granted wouldn't be understandable even if his words forthem were.

"I amwhat you call a taleweaver in my own world." He had to hope theexplanation would do. The language magic here was a wondrous thing.Maybe he'd be able to chat with some locals after listening to astory or two.

Heremembered something Harbend had said earlier. Damnyou! There was a place like this in Verd. A place where hecould have made himself understood, but then again, William Andersonhad made it quite clear that was exactly what the merchant housesdidn't want.

They wentfurther into the building, passing through the narrow corridor Arthurhad seen in all inns and entered the actual tavern. A few windowslits allowed daylight into the room and he saw there were very fewtables. All chairs were aligned in one direction, and he saw whatcould best be described as a small stage rising slightly from thefloor. A fireplace was to the left of him and he guessed it sharedthe same chimney as the one in his own inn. The stage began justbeside it.

They werealone.

"Doesn'tseem to be a lot of traffic here," Arthur commented slightlydisappointed.

"Restassured that this room will be full long before nightfall."There was an evil glint to the man's voice, but Arthur decided notmake anything out of it. He'd more or less barged his way in hereanyway.

"Youwouldn't by chance serve meals in here? Being a tavern and all Imean."

"Yourmeal is ready and will be served shortly."

"Thankyou. I guess it'll be a surprise." Arthur smirked. He didn'tfancy cold food, but he wouldn't start complaining now.

The man saidnothing. He bowed and disappeared, probably to stand watch by thedoor again, Arthur guessed.

It was astrange place. The tables were more elegant than he'd have suspectedfrom a tavern. The one in the inn where he lived had simplerfurniture even though they were of high quality, but he wouldn't haveexpected less this close to Erkateren. Here he was sitting on chairsas exclusive as anything they were bringing to Braka, leaning hisarms on a table in the same style. The walls were bare, but thewoodwork was decoration enough.

He sat thereadmiring the workmanship when he heard a noise and looked up. Thesame serving girl he'd seen the previous evening came with his food.Sensible thing to share personnel, he thought. She set the largeplate on his table and he gaped in disbelief. A T-bone steak madeexactly like he wanted stared up at him from its place on the plate,simmering in a spicy sauce. There was no way anyone could have cookedthe meal this fast, and he'd never even said anything about what hewanted.

"MasterAchnai, a message from the Roadhouse. An outworlder taleweaver willshare the joining there."

Trai erAchnai Khar looked up from the scroll he'd just finished.

"Youbring marvelous, wonderful news. Tell Escha I'll be at the jump toweras soon as I can walk there."

Trai ranfrom the room. Outworlder taleweaver, now that was news indeed. Hetook the steps three at a time and continued into the night. This wasgoing to be a very long night. He'd only planned to finish his scrollbefore going to sleep when Eri, his seneschal, came with the news,and Erkateren was on the other side of the continent. It would stillbe light when he arrived there, and he was well aware of the time ittook for the body to adjust to such a long travel westwards.

He satwaiting on the jump shield when Escha arrived. Lovely Escha, morethan a brother and a friend, gorgeous in his slender strength andunmarred body. Unmarred in difference from Trai who bore the marks ofevery fiery spell gone astray. He sighed at the sight of his heartmate, his perfect slave and the most powerful of all Jump Khars inKhanati.

Master andslave since ten years, bond brothers for seven and lovers for four,they jumped five times to arrive in Ira, the width of a continent tothe west, and Escha only needed a short rest there before casting thespell just a handful ever dared and only he mastered. Trai marveledat the power streaming through them both when Escha unleashed themighty word that bore them all the way north from Ira to Erkaterenunaided by any receiving jump tower.

Arthur notedhow people started to arrive. He saw a maddening variety of clothes,but four of the arrivals almost sent him screaming through the door.One resembled a nightmarish carnivorous gorilla, large tusks clearlymeant for ripping meat apart, and Arthur was already rising from hisseat when he registered that no one else seemed to care. The otherthree shorter, standing barely a meter in height. Something primitivein Arthur's mind yelled at him to run and hide.

Damn,they're scaring everyone else as well!

Threewalking lizards, scales glimmering and each wearing a perpetual grinshowing long lines of sharp teeth.

Arthurfought down the ghost in his mind, a ghost helping his ancestors tosurvive long before they could even grasp the concept of mankind. Thesight of sentient reptiles made him want to crawl away never to benoticed by them.

"Suchaudacity!" a voice behind him hissed.

He turnedand saw the giant ape glaring at the lizards. Even though heunderstood what it had said he also realized it had spoken in alanguage he'd never heard before.

"Why isthat?" he asked in an attempt to bite down on his rising panic.

"Raidersfrom the west. You're lucky not to have seen them before. They burnand kill. Only good teeth or the gift of tale telling will save you."

So that wasit. The naval blockade that made Harbend swear. Arthur groaned at theirony. The very reason making it possible for him to escape returninghome was here making him long desperately for the safety of Earth. Heshuddered, but curiosity got the better of him.

"But ifthey are raiders from across the sea, how can they be here now?"

"A verygood question, very good indeed. You have raised an issue that needslooking into," the ape answered as if Arthur had revealed animportant secret.

He was aboutto rephrase his question when a surge of air and a soft boom caughthis attention. Two men materialized out of thin air on the floor justacross the table. They had their backs to him but still sat down on achair each as if they had known beforehand they would be there.

"Whatthe bloody hell..."

Arthur wascut short. "Escha! By the thousand gods, you never jump inside abuilding!" A black skinned woman in shirt and skirt, both thecolor of bone, closed in on the table. Fury shone from her eyes.

"What adarling reception! So fiery yet so to the point," the leftmostbackside spoke. Arthur still hadn't seen their faces.

"Areyou totally out of your mind? You could have killed us all youidiot!"

"Ah,you're so beautiful when you show your feelings. There has to becertain advantages to living so close to the ocean, so far from thejungle. Darling, you have to send my greetings to your relatives inthe trees there."

"YouGrank"Arthur heard the word but didn't understand it anyway. "smellingsoldier's whore! I'll tear your lungs out of your perfumed body!"A spinning wheel of static charges started to form between heroutstretched hands.

"Enough!"The roar silenced the room. Arthur reeled from the pain inside hishead. The old man who'd received Arthur stood in the doorway. "You'llnot use the gift while in a Taleweaver's Inn, or, by the gods, I'llhave your name struck from history and your life's content undone forall generations to come!"

Nowthat's a way of threatening someone! Arthur had to admirethe man.

"You,Trai, stop harassing the woman! You'll not bring your petty war here!If all men were like you there'd be no Khanati today."

Not a singleword was spoken for a long while, and the serving girl busied herselfwith bringing food to the latest newcomers. As always she brought itlong before it could humanly have been cooked, but Arthur had alreadyseen something impossible this evening and his sense of wonder wasdulled. Only after all had eaten did the visitors start to exchangepolite smalltalk with each other, but they were soon interrupted bythe old man who climbed the stage beside the fireplace.

"I havesent the calling required by the edict, and tonight is more than amere storytellers night. More even than the gracing of a travelingtale teller. Today we are visited by no less than a self appointedtaleweaver. Unknown to all of us this outworlder comes with the giftto share with us, unknown as of yet, but after he has Woven he shallmost assuredly be well known amongst us all."

Arthursmiled despite the insult. If mister senile wanted to play a gamethen he would get one.

Arrogantbastard! So, no bloody being nice. He'd give them one ofhis Golden Secret shows. Firstrate, no cheating. He rose and entered the stage.

PityI don't have my crew here. Well it can't be helped. I'll justpretend. Cameras four and five, pan in, steady, slow forward and timefor the perfect smile. "Welcome, welcome, ladies andgentlemen. I welcome the rest of you as well." That broughtlaughter from all but the three lizards. They only stared at him withtheir cold, hungry eyes. "I am indeed what you call anoutworlder, and as such I share my name with others of my kind."By now Arthur knew the story he would tell, and he closed his eyesfor a moment, and when he opened them again he was once again in thefamiliar landscape of between,the place he needed to be in whenever he wanted to bring a listenerinto what he told, and he knew that this would indeed be one of hisGolden Secret shows.

"Thisis a tale from ancient times, but not from the history you know. Longbefore we came here we learned to treasure the legends from timeswhen maybe things were as here, yet different in many ways. It was atime when the old had to give way to the new. This is the tale of ahero and a king, but it really begins with his father. Now it shouldbe known that Uther Pendragon had fought a long and bloody war."

Arthurspoke, and it was as when he stood before a camera those early yearswhen he still had to prove himself, and as he had done then heclimbed into himself, immersed himself in his own words so that hewas more a vessel from which they poured rather than activelychoosing between them.

He heardmighty Merlin help Uther with his betrayal. He was there, watching aCamelot that had never existed, yet it was real for him. Unseen hewalked its great halls listening to secret meetings. He was flyinglike a falcon disturbed in its hunt by the thunder of two shining menclashing into each other, each carrying a lance one of which broke.He saw the queen torn between love and loyalty, and he knew themoment when love won and gave birth to yet another betrayal. Themurder of children haunted him, tore his heart apart, and he wasaghast to learn the evil deed had done nothing to prevent what wasforetold. Sitting, crying, on the battlefield where the kingdom wasbroken.

Standing,standing in a room where window slits allowed a gray dawn to enterand bring cold light to replace the fire that had slumped to nothingmore than red embers. There was an eerie silence where each breathwas a barely audible acclaim to the legend itself. Faces unmoving ina land between worlds, still living out the destiny of the greatestking who had never lived.

He hademptied an entire jug of watered wine without noticing. A littledrunk and tired beyond reasoning, he was, like the jug, a vesselspent.

Andsilence. I can hear them breathing, afraid to break the spell. Likestatues.

Arthurstaggered towards the door glancing at the faces in front of him.They were all sharing the same expression of awe and a little fear,and he knew he must have put on one of the best shows in his life.

"I havenever for thirty years... not since Master de Ghera." It was theold man who had tried to deny him entrance the night before. Onlythis time he was whispering in a voice suiting him far better thanthe arrogance only an ignorant man could show.

"I toldyou I was a taleweaver by profession where I come from," Arthursaid, satisfied he'd made a proper impact on his audience. He smileddespite his fatigue, and on weak legs went in search for his bed.

Harbendstared in utter disbelief as wagons arrived through the gates. Hehadn't expected the train to arrive for another day and was mildlysurprised when the calls went out from the battlements. The creakingtrain that arrived was not the one he had left. The wagons were thosehe hoped would join from Ri Khi, and he was still watching themarrive through the gates when darkness finally fell. No planningcould have prepared the people here for this. Almost two hundredwagons, and they were still passing through the gates when he wasforced to go inside for a meeting with the traders joining thecaravan.

"Wellmet, Lord de Garak."

Harbendlooked up. The evening had turned into a bedlam and people wererunning and yelling, grooms desperately trying to stable all horsesand the commander of the fortress occupied in a screaming contestwith the master of the caravan about whether or not to let all twohundred wagons stay within the walls. Of course Harbend was maderesponsible for it all, and a moment earlier he'd been standing withhis face in his hands after receiving a verbal beating when heexplained that another hundred wagons were to be expected next day.

He gave thestranger a tired look. At least she was speaking Khi with theunmistakable dialect of those living in Ri Khi.

"Wellmet honored stranger," he answered, politely requesting a name.

"Myname is Nakora, of the noble line of the Weinak family. I act asescort captain."

A femalesoldier. The people in Ri Khi retained none of the high standards inKhi. They must have lost all sense of honor after they left theirhomeland, but that was to be expected from the descendants ofbastards intermingling with impure De Vhatic blood.

Whatam I thinking? Adapting to some of the more unpleasant sides of myfather's values. Had better watch out for those thoughts. Unworthy.

He broke thesilence before it became uncomfortable. "Yes, and your reasonfor addressing me is?"

"I wishto relinquish command of your troops."

"Mytroops?"

"Twodays ago some forty men joined our escort. Their commander, told methey were to meet you here, but that they would be more useful addingto the escort immediately."

Whatis she talking about? I never agreed to swell the escort. No matter.I'll need all trained men available to protect a caravan three timesthe planned size. Any available woman as well, he agreedsourly to himself and decided to let thatmatter drop. "I see. Send them here," he answered as ifhe'd known in advance.

She bowedand marched away.

Well formedhips. Women definitely should do other things than carry weapons, buthe had to admit that an active life obviously had worked wonders onher body. He admired her as she vanished among horses and wagons insearch for the escort commander he assumed was waiting somewherecloser to the gates.

Harbendsmiled for the first time in hours. Maybe, just maybe this was goingto be a very good day. He crossed the open space and stared afterNakora, of the noble line of the Weinak family.

Arthurpeered out on the street. Late to bed, late to wake he'd been told asa child.

Notbloody late enough.

He hardlyhad a chance to step outdoors before he was surrounded by threepeople. If you're kind enoughto include an over two meter tall ape in the concept of people.He guessed he had to, no one else had complained the night before.

"Whatdo you want?" he asked irritably.

No answer. Agigantic, hairy hand pointed at the door to the Taleweaver's inn. Atelling gesture, and rather than start asking questions in halting DeVhatic Arthur nodded in agreement and joined the trio. He knocked onthe door and didn't have to wait for long before they were allowedin. They chose a table in the tavern close to the stage where Arthurhad made his performance.

"So,could you please tell me what you want?" he requested,anticipating the strange feeling of understanding spoken words as ifthey were native to him.

"Wewould..."

"I'd behonored..."

"Please,one at a time," Arthur interrupted. "I've had far toolittle sleep to do multiple conversations."

Silence.

"Oh,well, you first," he continued and nodded at one of the two men.

"Ah,wonderful, such splendid tact displayed by one in distress."

"Get toit!" Arthur growled.

"Yes,indeed, most definitely. I shall lay forth our humble wishimmediately."

Arthursighed. There was far too much embroidering and too little content inthe man's speech for his taste.

"Lastnight's Weave has left us in a state of awe, a recognition of ourshortcomings we could only have reached by means of sharing the Weavewith a true master of the art. We have come to the decision that wemust ask, no, humbly beg you, most wondrous of taleweavers, to acceptour presence in your magnificent caravan."

Arthur trieddesperately to cut through the flowery flatter and finally came to aconclusion. They wanted to join him because of his previousperformance.

Bloodygreat! Now I'm supposed to bring along a mobile fan club.

"Idon't see, how I could stop you," he answered tiredly. "Youhave to be aware that it's not my caravan. I'm just one partner.Harbend de Garak, wherever the gentleman is at the moment, has toaccept you, and he'll request that you pay a fee just like everyoneelse."

The manbowed deeply and raised both of his hands so that his face waseventually hidden behind wide, brightly colored silk sleeves.

"Ithank you, most gracious of men. We shall both proceed to set up ameeting with Lord Garak." They rose and backed away from thetable. Deep bows and they headed for the door.

Damn,I've seen both of them, but who are they? Yes, of course, the men whoappeared out of nowhere in the tavern and almost caused a fight.He shook his head. Oh well. He haddone this to himself after all. Time to pay the consequences. He wasabout to rise when he remembered he was not alone.

"I'msorry. And you wanted?" he asked.

"I'lluse fewer words. I share their sentiment. I wish to join you, help inany way possible in exchange for an opportunity to learn how tomaster the art."

Arthurgroaned mentally. His troupe of fans was rapidly changing into amenagerie.

"Andwhat would that help be?" he asked, desperately trying to avoidoffending something at least twice his own weight.

"I'm amindwalker."

"Mindwalker?"

"Yes."The monster hesitated so clearly Arthur was able to catch the tone ofuncertainty. "I walk with minds."

"Holdon, let's slow down a bit. I'm an outworlder, remember? Explain as ifto an idiot."

"You'renot an idiot. Treating you like one would be the gravest insult and abreach of honor."

"Thankyou." Now what? He wanted to know. "Try to explain this tome as to an outworlder inexperienced in the ways of this world."

"Youare an outworlder. There is no denying that."

I'mgetting nowhere. He began to rise.

"I'msorry. I insulted you."

"No youdidn't. Please just explain to me."

"I am aMindwalker. I can bring minds together over great distances. I canmake those who do not share a spoken tongue understand each other asif they did."

Arthurbrightened. "You mean you can duplicate the magic of this room?"

"Notreally, but the part making us able to speak with each other, yes, Ican do that."

"Consideryourself hired."

"Hired?I'm no mercenary."

"NowI'm the insulting one. You are more than welcome to join us. In factI'm greatly honored by your presence." He hoped the lastsentence would smooth over whatever bad feelings he'd invoked.Another thought struck him. "Would you mind telling me what youare, apart from being a Mindwalker, that is."

"Iusually work as a scout."

"Oh, noI mean what you are."

"Forgiveme my slow understanding. I know your kind does not easily see thedifference. I'm female."

That was apiece of information he hadn't expected, but it still didn't answerhis question. "Eh, no I meant, what do your kind call yourself?"

"Humans,of course."

Whatthe hell? He thought rapidly. Why would she refer toherself as a human? She was... oh, no he was the one in error.

"Whatdo you call our kind?" he asked to confirm his suspicion.

"Wehave several words for you. Skinless, dwarfs, halfmen, oath breakersand cowards are the most used."

"Nowthat's... that's just... ," he roared with laughter. "That'shilarious!" he finished when he got his breath back again."Lovely! So, what do our kind usually call you?"

"Humans."

Arthurpeered at her to replace out if she was baiting him or not. Then he hadan idea.

"Couldyou please repeat that word again, slowly?"

"H-u-m-a-n."

He listenedand tried it himself. "Khraga."

"Yes,that's correct, human," she confirmed.