Local custom demanded that attempts to mislead visitors be made at every point. Certainly anyone who penetrated that far guessed a door existed somewhere in the blank stone wall painted in a similar orangish brown to the exposed rock around it, but finding the mechanism which operated it would slow invaders sufficiently for the inhabitants, properly warned, to complete their escape. Even Auemoieu wasted time testing boulders in the event their tops lifted up to reveal a lever while his companions ran their hands along the wall, tapped, and listened.

  He backed off when he remembered the predilections of the hill-dwelling clans of Saueyi and examined the artificial cliff walls, shading his eyes against the uncanny light. “That's good,” he said. “Good place.”

  Not more than three minutes after that, Skadlif was scampering up a slope far too severe in its angle for walking with the aid of a rope attached to a hook; a Brawny Knight's beefy arm had thrown it up that he might explore a shallow cave. Not more than three minutes after that, he located the control system for the door. He further discovered a rope ladder he lowered to ease his descent, a clock, the first twenty installments of A Simple Week in the Country compiled, a standing harp, and a table carved to have a shallow dip some liked when the dice emerged. Evidently long shifts were anticipated.

  The door swung silently outward. A supplemental trick used to disguise it was revealed only then, for the entrance did not sit at ground level as a searcher might presume. The bottom of it started nearly a full leg high. Its unconventional placement not only frustrated the common back-entrance-finder but also forced additional delay because the invader who took that route, if not a giant, had to haul himself up and roll or swing himself in.

  “Here we adopt the expected formation, I suppose.” Onsalkant Tlol's suggestion received Skadlif's approval, whereupon the Brawny Knight, the combatant they had closest to a giant, took the fore while the other Brawny Knight fell to the rear. In such wise they entered the fairy bandit king's redoubt.

  Wary of potential defenders, the mercenaries were unable to raise their voices to discuss the interior, which was a shame, since it had much to recommend it. The short tunnel gave enough clearance overhead that even Auemoieu walked proud and straight. As to its width, it accommodated two abreast (or a single Brawny Knight) with comfort, but not with license to bring superior numbers against the poor inmates on whose hospitality such a transgression imposed. It curved continuously in the classic fashion.

  All that put it above the usual brigand lair, probably. Dirant had only stepped in unusual ones. He guessed that Ksori's came out well as far as the standard characteristics, and what he did know from his own experience was that the place's unique attractions distinguished it even from the underground complex Glainai Gabas once maintained beneath his glamorous mansion. The notorious criminal genius from Yean Defiafi connected his important rooms with plain tunnels and stocked them with lanterns, whereas depictions of valiant highwaymen and noble tyrant-slayers lined the walls about the mercenaries in relief as exaggerated as their deeds, visible on account of the fairy light which suffused the fortress. Below those, painted rather than carved, scenes of productivity essential as prerequisites to the events above calmed the soul, provided the viewer could look on fleece-bearing flocks and fleets filled with cargo without wondering how his own commercial ventures fared. Neither the bandits nor the mercenaries suffered from such distractions with the possible exception of the former condottiero.

  The extravagantly decorated tunnel dumped the intruders into an armory, less ornate but fully stocked with everything on the proficiency lists of any two Battlers. Past that, kitchen facilities equipped to prepare meals for any two hundred Battlers proved the influence which the bandits had on the construction, as well as how hungry they had been during the planning session.

  They remembered their finer needs, of course. A spring had its own chamber much like what a king gives to his bride when he fears appearing not to take the alliance seriously or instead consecrates to a new god he wants to make popular in a scheme to undermine the priests, for in its dimensions it surpassed the average family's entire house. Barriers diverted the water into baths, a placid central pool, and into sluices which conducted it to all relevant facilities. What a hardship it must have been for the residents to leave that chamber and its glistening tiles, its ceiling-covering fresco, and its bronze and marble sculptures which depicted creatures too fantastical even for the barren fields between territories claimed by fay barons. The fresco may have been considered the most admirable element if only anyone could raise himself high enough to see it.

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  Private rooms, lounges, more private rooms, more kitchens, and an indoor archery range might have distracted the assaulting force if not for the architectural suggestions of a hall which was the very heart of the stronghold. A grand corridor outlined a rectangle, and while the outer walls maintained the style of the rest of the hideout, the inner stood distinct as white marble veined with purple. Moreover, there was noise in that direction.

  Skadlif made gestures which directed the squad to reform into two halves, each group of eight led by a Brawny Knight and positioned outside a different portal, as the doors into the hall deserved to be called on account of their size and grandeur. He further directed them to make a quiet entrance. The balance between caution and aggression vexed every commander, and only success could relieve the burden. That and failure, but some potential outcomes were better ignored.

  The Brawny Knights on his cue eased open the doors onto a hall which, if asked, the architect of the royal residence of Chtrebliseu's king might have called “a trifle excessive.” Of course that worthy would have presumed the hall to be the king's third dining room, the one he used when he felt himself not up to receiving company, but nevertheless, most would agree Ksori had overdone it, possibly including the brigands themselves.

  The ground level accessible from the entrances acted as a gallery, for the hall descended into a great bowl. Spectators could on a clear day see the other side of the chamber from there. Looking down, the attackers saw a round table of dark polished oak eerily similar to what Dirant had envisioned when Takki proposed her scenario of bandit revels except far larger. He estimated it was able to seat somewhere from fifty to five hundred men, another example of why he seldom was asked to estimate anything. It accommodated slightly over one hundred in reality. In the center sat a superb conversation piece, a scale model of the entire bandit district. Doubtless Ksori made the table immense in proportion to his hopes of expansion.

  The other decorations and furnishings waited upon a more serene occasion for examination. Skadlif and his companions focused on combat-significant items, and there were enough of those. Four men dressed in the customary manner of the Adaban brigand, which is to say as much like everyone else as they could contrive, stood on the side of the table which the model's front entrance faced and tapped the area which represented the main approach with sticks.

  “Before we face the enemy, you must first allow time for him to become wearied and bored.”

  “You remember of course your positions. You will not all run out together like politicians frightened by a loud sound in their mistresses' closets but instead occupy the towers, those of you assigned to them, and keep behind the traps and barricades, the rest of you.”

  They were discoursing along those lines to the other sort of bandit, the free-spirited kind which dressed in the most exotic costume imaginable and from time to time, mood permitting, pretended to listen. For fairies, exotic costume involved a shocking variety of feathers, many of them taken from birds which perhaps did not exist, at least not in the present day. The bekirbird or kigitlabird for instance.

  The serious brigands persisted in their lectures despite the unwillingness of their underlings to behave as they ought. While prepared for prompt action, as proved by wrestling matches and riddle competitions which broke out spontaneously around the hall, their level of organization suited them less for ambuscades and patient resistance than it did even for field combat.

  Skadlif estimated the number of fairies with some accuracy, decided that the four dozen or so there must be the bulk of Ksori's forces, and signaled the attack. “You have the option to surrender until our blades clash,” he declared as a professional courtesy while flourishing his own sword and dagger.

  Three of the four human criminals saw the mercenaries, reckoned the value of Duelists and so forth against fairies, and placed their hands behind their heads. The fourth, an optimist, yelled. “Brothers! We are attacked! Rally!'

  That brought nearly thirty more fairies running in and ten ethically questionable businessmen, six of whom came to the same conclusion as three-quarters of their colleagues already present. The rest took the proper place for brave men, which was behind the fairies.

  Though the urgency of battle prevented them from saying it then, the mercenaries later spoke of their admiration for the bandits' accomplishments. “It is a cowardly profession they follow and unworthy, the more so considering their organizational capability,” a Reciter intoned.

  Dirant agreed. “It is a mistake often committed that Myrmidons, Pinpointers, and so underestimate their potential commerce. Much progress has been made in correcting this misapprehension, and yet not everyone reads the periodicals which concern themselves with such matters.”

  “Don't you think it's worse back home?” Takki added. “I mean in Pavvu Omme Os. Though I might just not know much about the proportions of classes in the commercial milieu.”

  The social problems of the far north notwithstanding, the spectacle of fairies jumping up on the table in order to form ranks impressed them all deeply. Some of the bandits recovered their courage because of it. Almost as striking was to see them dance on it in response to a gesture from the unit's Ritualist, himself prompted by Skadlif. The robbers if anything believed that occurrence to be more striking to judge by the fact they again altered their intentions.

  “We surrender after all!” one shouted.