<i>I don't believe I chased you off at all. I simply altered the bounds of our relationship. Quite successfully, until Gharreld ruined it.<br/>
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He is married now. Woe to us all. She is a lovely girl from over the mountain who can quell him with a look, but she doesn't fancy me at all, so there is no help in that quarter.<br/>
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You flatter me again. I don't think you still remember half what I look like at this point, it has been so long. You have a sea of faces to occupy you, while, alas, I have so few. Oh yes, I am confined. They intend to rehabilitate my reputation.<br/>
Lucky for me, you have sent quite enough to come close to satisfaction (barring the real thing).<br/>
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Do you wear this scent? I imagined you do.<br/>
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I am forced out to teas and parties in chaperone, so that men may formally court me. Gharreld means to break me to the bridle, I think, in earnest this time. I fear for my freedom. I have yet one last trick to dissuade him, so do pray it works. I tire of being good.<br/>
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Did you know, once, that men and women in Banque would raid each other's mountain clans for spouses? It is barbaric.<br/>
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Meantime, I have sent you a lewd pipe and more smoke. It is not euphoric, but I think you will tumble more than one of your harem in my honor with it. Would that I could have let you smoke it before you left, you might have made good on your threats that night.<br/>
</i><br/>There was his usual signature.<br/><br/>The pipe, shaped like a cock, was wrapped in his torn silk shirt, one of Banque's golden flowers pinned to the silk with the twine that wrapped it. The smoke was packed into a box, weighed down inside by a smooth river pebble, which Ryland thought Kethaias could guess came from the same one they'd drifted down, what felt like so long ago.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>There was no letter for weeks later, passing into nearly two months.<br/><br/>Then, finally, without signature or other adornment, a note folded around the ear cuff. On the bottom of the note, a handdrawn map, showing the direction to an obscure goat path into Banque, thin and hidden.<br/><br/><i>I am calling in my winnings: You had better come make good on this.<br/>
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