Janius couldn't help but smile to himself at the absurdity. Still it was reasonable that Julan would end up with a different opinion after a while. "Maybe you're just too interesting, Julan," he commented. "But I see. Well, I suppose you'll just have to be patient with your tattoos. Are any of your other friends going to visit during the day?"

[hr]
Rhazii lifted his ears, but he turned to Shevari with less certainty. "Oh, I guess, I just...I was never good at cooking those kinds of things."

"No reason not to try again," Llarasa said. "You have plenty of special methods, Shevari. I'm sure...Rhazii could...practice..."

She trailed off as her attention was brought to the figure rounding a curve in the road ahead. Everyone spotted him, one after another. Walking with a highly strung march that only hinted at clumsiness in his ankles was Rossarm. He glowered ahead. His eyes stared daggers at them all, landing ultimately on Fendros.

The group slowed to a stop as he did in front of them. Everyone was silent. Fendros, Ahnasha, and Rhazii could smell red wine on him from the short distance.

"You," he said, holding out a hand to Fendros. "That sword doesn't belong to you. Return it to me."

Fendros clutched the pommel of the family sword on his belt. His face hardened.