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. what can I do to help?”
    His mind raced like a thoroughbred.  “You said the Eel’s Elbow is the nearest inn to the docks?  Then that’s where they’ll sup.  That gives me very, very little time.  So . . .” he said, shifting Ansily’s weight over to the left – inadvertently pressing her right breast into his left cheek – so that he could dig for the soft leather pouch he kept inside his trousers, instead of the large cloth pouch he jingled a few iron bits in.  He withdrew two of the silver coins he had left and pressed them into the girl’s hand.  “Take this, and use it against my mistress staying at the Four Stags .  Do not use her real name – call her . . . Delanora,” he decided. 
    Ansily grinned.  “So I shall.  And Tyndal?  You can trust me,” she urged.
    “Because we’re . . . we’re . . . lovers?” he whispered.  Well, almost.
    She grinned again.  “No, silly, although that’s not a bad reason.  You’ve given me coin for a lodging.  That invokes the innkeeper’s sacred oath to protect their guests against all harm.  If your mistress hasn’t been convicted of a crime or is under warrant, she gets the protection of the House as long as she stays and she pays.”
    “And you won’t reveal it to the Censors?  Even if they pay you?”
    “The innkeeper’s trust is sacred,” she said, shaking her head.  “Once coin has changed hands, it can’t be revoked unless the guest is unruly.”
    “Somehow I don’t think you’ll have trouble with Alya.  Unless you get between her and her plate. If it comes to it, I’ll saddle up the gray mare, she’ll be nice and gentle, and send her on her way as soon as I can.”
    “Well, if you help me bring my order up the hill with that handy wheelbarrow, I’ll collect my horse from the stable and escort her there.  She can be my . . . older sister.”
    It was Tyndal’s turn to study her.  “Are you sure?  Are you serious?  This is my mistress , and—”
    “Oh, relax!” Ansily insisted, rolling her eyes.  “Who’s going to see anything amiss with a couple of women on the road between villages?  That’s hardly proof of a renegade wizard.”
    “Let’s hope so,” he said, giving her one final kiss before he pushed her off of his chest.  “I don’t know a lot about the Censors, but I do know that the toughest warmagi in the Duchies fear them.  They have spells of detection and discovery that no one else knows.  Or knows how to counter.  If they catch on that I’m here . . .”
    “I could never let a decent kisser like you get captured,” she promised.  “Ishi would never forgive me.”
     

Tyndal raced to the bakery as soon as he was sure the Censors had rounded the corner of the High Street and were headed to the Eel’s Elbow .  It took him only moments to whisper the news to Dara, who was on duty at the counter.  Wide-eyed she nodded and calmly took the next customer in line.  Tyndal wanted to scream at her to hurry, but that would have been counter to the plan – the point was to avoid attention, not attract it.  He couldn’t even wait around to see if Dara would do what she was supposed to, he had to trust that she would activate the contingency they’d prepared.
    He knew what he had to do, at least.  He dashed into the kitchen, used his magesight, and tried his best to see if there were any tell-tale traces of recent activity in the house.  Satisfied that there wasn’t, but painfully aware that he had not the skill or learning to devote to it properly, he went back to work.  He grabbed a loaf for lunch and ran back to the docks, just in time to get his iron stock loaded form the barge.  Much of the next hour was spent pushing the much-heavier wheelbarrow up the slope to the stable.  By the time he arrived, he was pouring with sweat and his lack of sleep was showing visibly on his face.
    Two hours after noon, as he was sorting out the rental harnesses for repair, his heart caught again when he