They were left alone in that darkness for some time, and Iarius could not have guessed how long they remained there. Food was brought to them; some clumpy bread and water, and Iarius was shocked to realize how hungry he was as he tore into it.

  At some point, he fell into slumber, and awoke only when the doorway opened to reveal the half-elf woman's husband.

  "Orla wants to talk to you," he said, addressing Nessalir.

  The virem draconem nodded. She'd been sitting with her back to the cavern wall, and now she stood, stretched, and cracked her neck. She followed the big man out of their cell, and the door was closed behind them, leaving Iarius alone and in darkness once more.

  With no other recourse left to him, he closed his eyes and tried once again to fall asleep, but he could not. His mind was awash with terror and anxiety. Did these bandits mean to kill them? Ransom them back to Remura?

  What a humiliation that would be, if he was returned to his people a hostage. Iarius could imagine the sneer on Pilus Opaedes' face should that happen.

  Better that the bandits simply decapitate him and be done with it.

  He stewed in his own shame and weakness, alone with only the blackness to accompany him, for some time. It could have been hours, or mere minutes, or perhaps a span of days. The sun could rise and set any number of times outside these caverns, and Iarius would remain ignorant of it all.

  Then the door opened once more, bringing with it the orange glow of torchlight.

  The bandits who stood in the doorway were young—younger than Iarius at the least. In Remura they might be considered new adults, or perhaps on the cusp of their adulthood. It was difficult to know.

  It was a young man and a young woman, both dressed in furs. They regarded with eyes that were wide with uncertainty, and after a moment the young man seemed to don a mask of authority, and he spoke:

  "Stand up, Remuran. The chief wants to see you."

  Iarius' eyes crept down to the blades at their hips. They were crude things, black and jagged and iron, but he knew they would cut his flesh just as easily as a Remuran gladius. Swallowing, he stood.

  "Come," said the girl, clearly trying to put authority into her voice, just as her companion had.

  Seeing no reason to antagonize his captors, Iarius nodded silently and stepped forward.

  They led him through the tunnels, the man in front of him and the woman behind him. They walked for some time, and at one point Iarius began to wonder if these youths had gotten lost.

  Suddenly, the man stopped, and he looked back at Iarius and grinned. "Hear that?" he asked. "Your lady friend's been with Orla and Toli for nearly three hours now. I think they finished talking a while ago."

  The young woman giggled. "Ard," she began.

  "No, no, I think the Remuran should know," said the man. "Come on, listen."

  Iarius did listen, and from a nearby chamber, he thought he heard a faint gasping sound.

  The young man—Ard, if that had been his name the woman was speaking—put a finger to his lip and beckoned Iarius to follow him. Silently, they crept around a corner, to where a leather sheet had been raised over the passage. He lifted it slightly, and motioned Iarius to have a look.

  Iarius did, and the sight beyond caused his face to burn. There was Nessalir, her muscular back exposed completely to him. Red scales ran down it to her tail, which coiled about in pleasure. She rode Toli, her legs on either side of his, his hands on her hips. Beside them, Orla knelt on the fur carpet, her body as bare as her companions', her intricate tattoos running all about her flesh. Iarius could see her soft breasts swaying beneath her as she reached out, took Nessalir's face in her hands, and kissed her.

  He retreated quickly, embarrassed and not wanting to be seen. His guides brought him away from the chamber, and soon broke down into giggles.

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  "She ever ride you like that, Remuran?" asked Ard. "Has any woman?"

  Annoyance flashed through Iarius. "Has one ever ridden you?"

  Ard's grin faded into anger, and his female companion burst into a new fit of giggles. "Come on," Ard said. "Jeskar is expecting you."

  He marched off, and Iarius and the woman followed.

  "I don't think one has," the girl whispered behind him, and she giggled again.

  They had no more detours, and they walked in silence. Iarius pondered what in the world Nessalir could have discussed with Orla and her husband, that the conversation could have become that. His face remained hot for the remainder of their journey, and while his mind conjured a number of possible scenarios, he did not believe any of them to be particularly likely.

  At last they came to another leather curtain, and Ard pulled it aside to reveal another chamber. In its center burned a fire, and on a bench beside the flames sat Jeskar.

  He wore trousers, and a bandage and poultice had been applied to his wounds. He did not look up from the flames as Iarius and his escorts entered.

  "I have the Remuran," said Ard.

  "Good," said Jeskar. "Leave us."

  Ard hesitated. "He's a Remuran."

  "I am aware," Jeskar replied. "Leave us."

  Scowling, Ard turned and left. The girl with him gave Iarius a wink, then left as well. Iarius now found himself alone with the chief of the bandits.

  Jeskar gestured to another bench, on the opposite side of the fire. "Sit." He spoke it as a command.

  Iarius obeyed. He walked around the fire, and he took his seat across from Jeskar. The elf-blooded man sat straight to avoid dislodging his bandages, and red had already bled through the cloth.

  He saw Iarius looking. "I will heal," he said. "My aelifar blood heals quickly."

  "I see," said Iarius.

  "You keep strange company, Remuran," said Jeskar. "Nessalir the Red is a famed swordswoman. Has her fame even reached your empire?"

  Iarius shook his head. "Truth be told, I knew nothing of her until we met in Paeliig," he said. "Until then, I had believed that there was no such thing as a virem draconem—what you call a drakkowar. I had thought them a myth."

  "Yes, your people think much is a myth," Jeskar noted. "That, I believe, is the difference between us. You Remurans believe you know all the truths of the world, but we know that no man can ever know such things."

  The academic in Iarius bristled at that. "Just because a man knows nothing, does not mean he cannot learn," he told the bandit. "I will admit, I am more ignorant than I had thought, but trust me when I say I am eager to rectify this."

  Jeskar's mouth formed into a tight smile. "On that, we may have some common ground," he said. The bandit stood, and he picked up a dagger which had been resting on the bench beside him. Iarius had not seen it until now.

  The blade gleamed in the firelight. Iarius suppressed a shudder.

  "You have the air of a scholar," Jeskar noted. "Not a soldier. Am I wrong?"

  "You are not."

  Jeskar nodded. "If I were to attack you, here and now, even weakened as I am, you would be unable to defend yourself, correct?"

  For a moment, Iarius considered bravado. But he was quite certain that Jeskar would see right through it. "Perhaps I would get lucky," he said. "But no. I would not like my chances."

  The smile on Jeskar's face shifted slightly, became just a little bit more genuine. "Honesty. I like that." He sat down once more, and rested the dagger on his knee. "I wish to know my enemy, Scholar. And furthermore, I wish to know what they know. Is the Legion at Paeliig aware of our location? What do they know of us?"

  Again, Iarius considered lying. He considered trying to frighten or demoralize the bandit. Was that not his duty as a citizen of Remura?

  But these people were not who he'd thought they were. They were refugees. They were survivors of a war they'd never wished to fight. And they had treated him with more honor than he would have expected from even a Remuran centuria.

  "They know little," he said. "They know that bandits exist. They suspect you of being based near Caelus Pass. I was accompanying the Equine Centuria when they were ambushed a few days ago—they believe that many of you attacked them from the trees."

  "They believe?" asked Jeskar. "Do you believe different?"

  "I… suspected that only two archers attacked us," Iarius told him. "The Pilus took it as an insult when I relayed these suspicions to him."

  Jeskar chuckled, and in his laughter, Iarius heard confirmation that he had been correct.

  "They hired a mercenary because they did not wish to divert manpower to hunting down bandits," Iarius concluded. "As far as I know, they have no idea where you are, how many you are, or even who you are."

  "That is good," said Jeskar. "But now I wish to know more of Remura. I wish to know how they do things, how they transport goods, how they build their war camps. Tell me everything, Scholar. And if you are truthful, you may yet live."

  There was humor in his eyes, but Iarius had no wish to test him. Taking a deep breath, he began to talk.

  All told, betraying the Empire came surprisingly easy.