"Quite clear, Lord Wizard," the boy quavered. "I wouldn't try to swindle a mighty magician like you, never! You'll find your horses waiting here groomed, well-fed and watered when you come back, I promise you. You have the word of Dor Hamel on it."

Dalquist smiled. "Thank you, Dor. I am sure you will take good care of our mounts, and if so, you have nothing to fear, either from my companion, Grimm, or me. Just be aware that I have some idea of the price of such horses in this town, and I know the names of the men who deal in them, just as I am sure you do. Let us say no more on the matter."

Dalquist turned to Grimm and said, "The food here is adequate and the drink acceptable. We should also be able to find at least a couple of bold adventurers here to aid us in our Quest."

As the two mages walked away, Grimm stopped at the door of the tavern and whispered, "Weren't you a little hard on the boy, Dalquist?"

"I told you I know this town, Grimm," the older Questor replied in the same low tone of voice. "I told you much about honour here but, even so, it has more than its share of cutpurses and brigands. All too many 'honoured guests' here leave on foot with empty purses and false tales of masked robbers that appear without warning in the night and disappear without trace. Everybody in this town knows everybody else, and they are masters of the barefaced lie, who will just dare you to make an accusation that must be backed up with evidence or force.

"I don't like Drute, but it does house a goodly number of brave swordsmen and professional thieves who hold to a code of honour that might seem strange to us, but it's all that prevents total anarchy. Just follow my lead and we'll be all right."

Dalquist opened the door, which squealed alarmingly-there were no magic portals here, opening silently at the least touch!-and the two Questors walked into a smoke-filled room resonating with loud voices from all corners.