This had come to a head when someone in the barracks had speculated that the units being recalled were actually going to return as a tax-collecting force. This was, of course, pooh-poohed by the other soldiers. If that was to be the new assignment, then why not give them their instructions while they were still here rather than having them travel all the way to the capital?

No, every indication was that the Empire itself was in dire straits, and in its desperation was turning its back on Sanctuary ... cutting it adrift while it tried to muster its strength and forces elsewhere. With the exception of a few isolated households who were conspicuously noisy in their loyalty and preference to all things Rankan, the Empire's influence was all but gone from Sanctuary ... and the recall of the troops was simply a final, confirming gesture.

It was with no small surprise that Zaibar realized that he no longer thought of the prince ... or himself ... as being Rankan. They had been absorbed into the permanent structure of this strangely addicting town. Sanctuary was their home now, and as much a part of them as they were a part of it. Ranke was just a name, at best annoying when it couldn't be ignored ... and it was getting easier to ignore it.

Realizing he was dawdling with his thoughts rather than eating or returning to duty, Zaibar rose and threw the uneaten portion of his lunch into the water. The scraps rippled the steel-grey water which reflected the blanket of clouds above.

Peace and prosperity had come to Sanctuary, the Hell-Hound thought, but it was like the indeterminate cloud cover which hung over the city. Would the sun burn through and bathe the town with warmth and light, or would the clouds thicken and darken into a storm?

A soldier could only watch and wait ... and adapt.

NIGHT WORK by Andrew Offutt

Hanse believes in very little and perhaps nothing. Therefore he's always ready for anything, particularly the unexpected. It's a trait that has served him well. Because he has to be a pragmatist. Shadowspawn is a pragmatist.