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know Nefrigar, I held the question back.
    "Bardelus is a good place to visit right now," he said after taking me back to Beliphar.
    "Bardelus? Why Bardelus?" They weren't part of the Alliance, either. Neither Reth nor Campiaan.
    "Little one, perhaps you should broaden your horizons," Nefrigar smiled and disappeared.
    I dithered for two days, then, worried that I might be missing something, I gathered the gold I hadn't spent on Falchan and skipped to Bardelus.

Chapter 3  
     
    Alliance common was spoken for the most part, but in certain portions of Grithis, a city surrounded by forests and farmland on Bardelus, there were ethnic communities where other languages abounded. Purchasing a comp-vid first thing, I set about navigating my way through the city. Gold was accepted everywhere. They'd tried to put their own version of the credit chip in place, but since they were non-Alliance, it fell through.
    My first thought was to find a place to stay. Going through advertisements for hotels and inns, I discovered that businesses weren't held to any sort of standard. A photograph on the comp-vid might be very different from the reality. I discovered that from the first three inns I visited, none of which resembled the images on the comp-vid. I'd chosen them because they seemed reasonable in price. I was learning my lesson quickly—Bardelans were notorious liars and they expected to haggle over everything.
    "I refuse to pay your price," a customer pounded his fist on the clerk's desk in the fourth inn I visited. The desk shook precariously while a small cloud of dust rose from the filthy counter.
    "Seventy-five, then," the clerk countered, giving a price five silvers less than previously mentioned.
    "Seventy," the thick-fisted customer pounded again. I wondered if dust and rat droppings would sift down from the ceiling. They did. "And you agree to clean my room."
    "No. Room cleaning is a separate charge," the clerk sniffed. At that moment, I was hoping he might inhale some of the dust. He did, sneezing four or five times in rapid succession.
    "Seventy, and you clean my room," the customer snapped, raising his fist.
    "All right, seventy with room cleaning," the clerk jerked his hand out, catching the customer's fist.
    "I'll stay for free, if you allow me to clean the rooms and this pig-sty you call a reception area," I offered. Both the clerk and the customer turned to look at me, complete shock on their faces.
    "This is not a pig-sty," the clerk huffed, offended.
    "No? See this?" I pointed, I wasn't about to put my finger in it. "Rat droppings. You have rats. Do your customers know this?"
    "You have rats?" The customer was now swearing and about to pound the desk again.
    "Sixty, and your room cleaned," the clerk whined.
    "Sixty and she cleans the rooms," the customer jerked his head toward me.
    "And I stay for free in exchange for the cleaning," I added.
    "All right." The clerk went to find keys, muttering under his breath the entire time.
    "Very nice, I wouldn't have thought to throw in rat droppings," the heavy-handed customer smiled as we walked toward the stairs. No elevator here, unfortunately. I not only had my key but a master and information that I shouldn't go into any room before nine bells and the cleaning supplies and equipment were in a janitor's closet on the first floor.
    "When would you like your room cleaned?" I asked the man. He was well dressed, with reddish-brown hair that was a bit long and curling around his ears. He was also dressed better than most I'd seen in this section of the city, in a matching jacket and pants in dark brown over a tan shirt. No ties or other neckwear were worn on Bardelus. I got the idea it was just too formal for their way of thinking.
    "I'll be going out every morning by seven bells. Any time after that will be fine." He had light-brown eyes, lips that might smile now and then if he allowed it and the nose of an aristocrat. Wondering what brought him to this inn, I nodded as he opened