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.Second, if the tomb's wards claim some of her companions, Zandria may be amenable to a renegotiation of our arrangement."Anders grinned."Ah, so you'll rob her at sword point after she's spent her strength in forcing the tomb and removing the loot.An excellent plan, Jack.""Robbery is such a hard word.I prefer to think of it as encouraging her to generously reconsider our mutual association.After all, I am rather fond of Zandria, and I would hate to have her be sore with me.""I am not concerned with how she feels about the situation," Anders said."Ah, but isn't it better to provide her with an opportunity to purchase our assistance in the event that Sarbreen's deadly traps and ancient defenses put her company in a bad way?" Jack sipped at his wine."If the right circumstances develop, friend Anders, she might give us thelion's share of the loot and feel glad that she had the opportunity to do so.Now that is a plan."The Northman furrowed his brow, thinking hard through his intoxication.Anders was one of the most lucid drunks Jack had ever known; no amount of ale or wine ever seemed to fog his wits."And what if Zandria and her company recover the loot with little trouble? She'll have no need of us then.""In that event," Jack said, "well consider more direct measures."§Despite his best efforts, Jack discovered once again that copious amounts of drink drown one's troubles in only the most transient and misleading manner.Hours of conniving, plotting, and planning with Anders and an imprudent amount of wine developed no certain plans for dealing with Zandria's expedition and did nothing at all to alleviate Jack's concerns about his meeting earlier in the evening or his enemies in the Game of Masks.But he did become quite drunk and had a roaring good time when he wasn't trying to think too hard.The next morning eluded Jack entirely, as he was unable to dispel the miserable stupor smothering him after the night's festivities.He rose about two hours past noon and spent most of the next hour dressing slowly and painfully, one article at a time.Eventually he rallied enough to stagger out into the street and purchase bread, cheese, and a half-dozen boiled eggs for his breakfast, after which he felt much better."Illyth would undoubtedly say that I deserved my earlier misery," he mused while he ate, perched under a ramshackle porch in front of the grocer's shack."She does not view overindulgence with the good-natured humor onelooks for in that sort of situation." Then Jack sat bolt upright and smacked his hand to his forehead."Illyth! The Yellow Lord's tournament is tonight!"He looked up to the sky; the sun was only two hours short of setting, and the next Game event was only an hour off.In a panic, Jack dashed back to his apartment, dressed quickly in his best clothes, and then hired a coach to drive him out to Fleetwood Manor as fast as he could get there.After a very anxious half hour for Jack, the carriage turned into the short, shady lane that led to Fleetwood Manor, passing another coach on its way out.He was only about a quarter hour late in picking up Illyth, which was better than he'd expected when he remembered their date.He was dressed rather casually for the evening, with tight black cannons and a pleated tunic of yellow and maroon.The coach stopped at the ivy-covered manor door; Jack hopped out before it had stopped rolling and took the short flight of steps two at a time."Lord Jaer Kell Wildhame for the Lady Illyth," he told the major domo.The man didn't say a word in response.Jack turned on him in some annoyance—after all, he was running late— and found that the manservant was simply staring at him in amazement.The man's astonishment darkened visibly into suspicion.The Lady Illyth left with Lord Jaer Kell Wildhame just a moment ago," he said, motioning to a pair of house guards nearby."Who, may I ask, are you?""I beg your pardon," replied Jack
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