You have a plan, Mistress? Spring the trap. If there is one. We wipe them out or take them prisoner and carry them off, never to be seen again. How many might there be?

Ram shrugged. He did not waste time looking at me now. He had eyes for trouble only.

Abda said, Eight. And the one you embarrassed. But hell avoid getting too close. He might have to explain if someone saw him. Oh?

I was involved in two similar schemes when I was an acolyte.

I had no idea what he meant. It did not seem like the best time to fill myself in on his past. We were approaching a brushy area that crowded the path to the exit.

I say brushy but Im no devotee of formal gardening. The area consisted of heavy vegetation four to eight feet high. Every single leaf was tended and considered daily. Its function was to mask the grove from the world so Taglios lords would not be defiled by common eyes.

I started a spell as soon as we left Gupta. I was ready when we reached the shrubbery. It was another childs plaything but my most ambitious effort yet. I spoke the initiator and threw the resulting fireball into the growth to my left.

By the time the ball went ten feet it was hot enough to melt steel. It broke into fragments that broke into smaller fragments.

Someone screamed.

Someone else screamed. A man plunged out of the growth pounding his side.

I got another ball ready, threw it the other way.

Wait, I said. Let them come out. Well push them down the path to the gate. There were three men on that path now, wild-eyed. Then three more came out like spooked cattle. The brush was burning. Thats long enough. Lets move.

We hustled forward. The baffled would-be assassins retreated. They piled up against the closed gate. The gatemen stared at the flames, stunned, unsure what to do.

Ram. Bang them over the head. Put them in the coach. A guard recognized me, did his job by rote as Ram waded into the six.

Mistress.

Abda was behind me. I turned. A man afire was charging us with an upraised tulwar, a weapon I had not seen here before. It looked like an antique.

Abda ducked, darted, had his rumel around the mans neck in a blink. I did not get to use my borrowed blade. The assassins impetus broke his neck.

That was it. Ram tossed bodies into the coach. I told the least rattled gate guard, Thank master Gupta for the loan. I gave him the sword. And extend my apologies for the damages. The priest Chandra Chan Tal should be happy to make them good. Ready, Ram?

Yes, Mistress.