He had lain awake, staring at the ceiling, saved from tears by Lion, ringing him from his apartment, lying awake too. They conducted their conversatio... in soft urgent whispers, fingers wandering.And now he was leaving.He'd quit the street life, though sometimes old clients still waylaid him on the street. He shrugged them off, though to some he was downright rude. He had the rumours circled that Chilito was no longer on the market, for anything. His rent friends teased him for getting a sugar. Listening to their terrified words, Mak could only wonder how much longer the Chakcha officers would be able to force their reluctant soldiers to keep on marching deeper into the unknown forest.The lone Chakcha runner who blundered onto them skidded to a hasty stop and turned to retreat. He froze at a shouted command, his empty hands upraised before the threat of Mak's bent bow."Don't! I give up! I don't even have a spear!" The runner looked almost too young to be a soldier, and was plainly in. Those coins quickly became tarnished and dull but this armor was still shiny as the day it was formed, telling of hours its owner spent in polishing it. Not only was it remarkable because of its flashiness in the sunlight but also because of its form fitting shape which seemed to mold to every curve and contour of its wearer's body. Her breasts were sculpted in the hard metal down to the last detail, including her erect nipples standing proud in the spring warmth.A metal strap on her left side. The entertainment was a Zitara player with a decent voice, though he billed himself as having studied with Thistle, the Bard of the North, and I knew this was untrue. Thistle had never had a student except for Starlight. He had been teaching classes on Guitar making for the last five years, but this fellow didn't seem the type. The fellow did a decent job, and I did recognize several of Starlight's songs in his repertoire. They suited his voice, and he was obviously a good musician, if.