chapter 5

Quatre woke with the first rays of light entering the room. He rolled to his back and placed his hands under his head. His eyes meandered over the ceiling as his mind drifted to the girl next door. He could not deny that he felt something for her, and Trowa’s comments from last night clarified that fact for the blond. He would be lying if he said that the indignation he felt when Treize touched her was only concern for her wellbeing. He was jealous and surprisingly possessive. If he did not keep tight reigns on his feelings, he would blow their cover.

"I have only known her for less than a week, how can I be in love with her?" he asked.

He closed his eyes and shook his head trying to banish the internal confusion. His battle was lost as he remembered her leaning toward him and placing the kiss on his cheek.

Quatre threw his sheets back and got up. He might as well get dressed because his pondering was getting him nowhere.

Trowa shifted at the sound of movement and opened his eyes.

"Morning," said Quatre.

Trowa brushed his bangs out of his face and acknowledged his friend’s greeting as he set up.

"Are you going to tell her?" Quatre asked as he dressed.

Trowa looked at him briefly confused.

"No, I will not tell her if you don’t want me to," Trowa said standing.

"I would prefer you did not," Quatre said pulling the shirt over his head. "At least not yet."

"Want to earn her love with who you are and not what you are?"

Quatre fidgeted with his friend’s comment. Trowa smirked as he pulled his own shirt over his head.

"Does she have someone she is seeing?" Quatre asked with sudden realization of the possibility.

"No," Trowa answered.

Intense relief washed over Quatre.

"Your only competition is your nephew," said Trowa playfully ruffling Quatre’s hair as he passed.

Quatre batted at Trowa but missed as the acrobat danced out of the way.

Catherine studied the clothes that one of the servants had set out for her before she refused to let them dress her and chased them out. Catherine sighed at the knock on her door.

"Probably more servants," she muttered to herself as she moved to the door.

"Who’s there?" asked Catherine.

"It’s Benzoin."

Relief washed over Catherine at the familiar voice. She cracked the door open and let Benzoin in.

"Where’s Ro?" she asked not sure if she was happy or disappointed that her brother was not there.

"She is still getting ready," Benzoin answered as she entered closing the door behind her.

Benzoin glanced around the lavish room.

"Sleep well?" Benzoin asked.

"Yes," Catherine answered walking back to the large bed where a thick white comforter lay in disarray and many pillows were scattered on the floor.

"I have something for you," Benzoin said switching to Quatre’s voice that, to Catherine’s surprise, caused a warm comfort to start in her chest and to radiate out through her body.

"What?" Catherine asked with curious interest.

Benzoin pulled out a small recording device from the folds of her clothing and placed it into Catherine’s hand. The brief contact reminded Catherine of all the support "Benzoin" had given yesterday.

"Wear it always and record all conversations you have with Treize, especially those when you are a lone with him. It is the start of our case against him," Quatre said.

"How does it work?" Catherine asked sitting on the bed.

Benzoin sat beside Catherine and picked up the device to instruct her in its use.

Ro silently slipped in to find them on the bed hunched over the device. The soft click of the door closing brought Benzoin’s eyes up to meet Ro’s.

"You think you got that?" Benzoin asked as she turned her attention back to Catherine.

"Seems easy enough," Catherine said before greeting Ro.

"You are not dressed," Ro observed.

"I’m getting there," she said. "You should have seen them this morning. About five women entered my room and in a frenzy of activity tried to dress me. I finally convinced them I could do it myself and made them leave."

She walked over to her closet and examined the other outfits that hung there. They were much the same as what was set out for her. She decided she liked the green to the yellow they had chosen and pulled it from the closet. She threw the outfit onto the bed and started removing items off the hanger. The pants and top she could figure out, but the many items of sheer fabric were a mystery to her. She carried them to her bathroom and put them on.

The pants adjusted to size by a set of laces on either hip that threaded through three sets of eyelets. Catherine secured them so the pants comfortably hung from her hips. The light weight material draped down her legs. She found them easy to move in even with the wide, free flowing ends.

The top reminded her of one of her tops she used for practice. She secured the bra like top in the back and admired herself in the mirror. The outfit was not as bad as she had feared, and the pants had pockets in them to her relief.

Catherine exited the small room for the scrutiny of her friends.

"You look good," said Ro.

"Thanks," she smiled.

"You need to put the rest on," Benzoin said holding up one of the items Catherine had left on the bed.

Catherine rolled her eyes and waked over to Benzoin.

"How do I put these on?" she asked holding up a rectangle of gossamer cloth.

"There are hooks on these panels," explained Benzoin holding up the section for her to see. "On the inside of your waist band is a place to hook them."

Catherine loosened one of the ties enough to examine the pants and found the anchors for the hooks.

"It is best to start at the side," Benzoin said as she hooked one end by Catherine’s left hip.

Between the wariness in the voice and the hesitation of the hands, Catherine looked into Benzoin’s eyes and knew there was a blush hiding under the veil. She smirked and took over attaching the rest of the fabric. When done, it looked like she had a skirt on.

"One last item," Benzoin said.

Catherine eyed the item.

"What is it?"

"It is a head scarf," Benzoin answered. "Sit down on the stool and I will show you how it is worn."

Catherine did as instructed.

Benzoin picked up a brush and started fixing Catherine’s hair. Benzoin picked up a hair comb from the table and slipped it into the loops on one edge of the scarf. With a total of four combs secured, Benzoin, with the hands of experience, slipped the combs into Catherine’s hair.

"You will probably have to adjust the combs as they slip from place," Benzoin informed as she adjusted the scarf to flow behind Catherine.

"Where did you learn to do hair?" Catherine asked as she admired the job Benzoin had done.

"Like I said earlier, I have older sisters."

Ro snorted which brought a quick glare from Benzoin that did not go unnoticed by Catherine.

"What are you two hiding?" Catherine questioned.

They ignored her question. Benzoin pointed out that they should go down for breakfast and wish Iggel a save journey.

Four days after their arrival, Quatre woke at the sound of a transport landing beyond the garden. He silently slipped from his bed and to the window. Figures obscured by night made their way through the garden. Two of the forms were struggling with a burden as they neared the house. Light flooded into the garden through an open door.

Quatre was curious as to what was going on. After donning the servant clothing he had liberated earlier, he slipped out the door and down the hall. Cautiously he neared the area of the house from which movement could be heard.

"Lady, why have you returned?" Treize’s voice traveled down the hall.

Quatre was not close enough to here the woman’s response.

"Come and we can talk in my office," Treize said.

That meant they would be coming toward him, so Quatre started creeping back down the hall till he was at Treize’s office door. Swiftly, yet quietly, he opened the door and sneaked into the room. He crossed the sitting room and into the office. Crawling into the wide windowsill, Quatre hid behind the heavy drapes just before the lights came on and people entered the room. Quatre heard the door click shut before anyone spoke.

"So, Lady, who have you brought with you that can tell me what I want to know?"

"It is Niveous," the woman said.

Quatre forced himself not to make a sound at the news, and questions raced through his head as to why they would want her.

"She knows where the prince is. She told the sultan as much, but I could not get the information from her," she said in a militant manner.

"I see," Treize thoughtfully responded.

Quatre eased the edge of the curtain away in hopes to see the woman. For a brief moment she walked into his view and was gone. Quatre tucked her image away to identify later as he focused more on what was being said.

"Since the council turned down his request for a new wife, the sultan dwells on his son. He wants to see him after the years of his absence."

"So, he is ready to make amends with Quatre. I feared that would happen one day. I just hoped it would not be so soon," Treize mused.

"Sir, let me interrogate her and destroy the prince for you," she devotedly offered.

Quatre’s blood ran cold with the comment.

"No, No… that will not be needed at the moment, Lady. I will talk with her," Treize said. "For now, we will lock her in a room till I can talk to her tomorrow."

"Sir, is the circus performer still here?" Lady asked.

"Yes," came Treize’s simple reply.

"Why, sir? They turned down the sultan’s request to marry her. She is of no use now," Lady said protectively.

"I have my reasons," Treize purred.

Quatre was sure Treize’s expression spoke of smugness.

"He might not be able to have her, but the fact that she is my wife provides a small feeling of satisfaction."

Quatre found the idea of Catherine being Treize’s wife sickening and forced himself not to attack Treize now.

"As you wish," Lady said dejectedly.

"Now, Une, you know you are special to me."

Quatre heard movement as Treize neared Une and a soft kiss was exchanged.

"Yes, sir," she said very demurely.

"I think we will have to move our time table up," Treize said getting back to business.

"How much?" she asked, staunchness once more in her voice.

"I am meeting with Rigg first thing tomorrow. I will instruct him to have the men start harassing the larger towns and the larger transports. We need to destabilize the flow of resources to towns to force them to the cities. In a month, that should bring enough for the council to call for the sultan’s resignation."

Quatre was surprised to discover the man behind the increase in attacks.

"But the prince is still heir?" Une questioningly pointed out.

"Yes, I can’t talk the old fool into denouncing him. All because he is still in love with Quercetin," Treize said. "Of course, his death will upset mother, but killing him is the only option."

That did not surprise Quatre at all. He had always known that he could be a target for assassination and who better to be behind the assassination than his own nephew. Treize had always been very ambitious and his father’s vast holdings and corporations were obviously not enough when the only thing standing between Treize and being sultan was Quatre.

"See that my aunt is settled, and I will talk with her tomorrow afternoon,"

"As you say, you’re Excellency," Une said before leaving the room.

Treize briefly shuffled papers on his desk before exiting.

Once the light went out, Quatre kept to his hiding spot till he was sure it was safe to emerge. He placed his ear to each door listening for any sound before cracking the door open to scan the exterior. Satisfied that it was safe, Quatre made it back to his room without incident.

"Where have you been?" came Trowa’s low voice as Quatre neared his bed.

Quatre jumped slightly startled to find Trowa awake.

"We have to get out soon," Quatre whispered as he shed his clothing. "I need to think," he added, voice strained, and started pacing after throwing his shirt on his bed.

"What happened, and how soon?" Trowa asked sitting up in bed to watch his friend crisscross the room.

"They have Niveous," Quatre whispered.

Trowa’s eyes widened at the news.

"Why?" he softly asked.

"Simple, Treize wants to be sultan," Quatre paused and looked into Trowa’s one visible green eye for the confused look he knew would come. "He is behind the bandits. He is using them to get the council to demand my father’s resignation, and he wants Niveous to tell him where I am so I can be killed," Quatre finished before dropping to sit on his bed. Quatre let out a large sigh and looked at Trowa.

"Why does he need the bandits?" Trowa asked. "Why doesn’t he just kill both you and your father?"

"One - that would bring too much suspicion on him if we both were killed, and two - it is not the way Treize operates. To him it is a game. He moves his pieces around the board to evoke the desired move from others. Pawns are more cooperative if they think what they are doing is their idea. If he discredits father’s ability to lead and safeguard the people, and I am not a candidate for succession, then they will be asking him to rule. The fact that they have been elaborately manipulated will not occur to most."

"Why is he interested in Cathy?" Trowa inquired.

Quatre fell backwards across the bed so his head and arms dangled off the side. He looked seriously at the upside down figure of Trowa.

"He is using her as a bur in my father’s side," Quatre said placing his hands over his face and rubbed his eyes while his mind hunted for answers. "He asked the council for permission to take a new wife, Catherine," Quatre informed Trowa.

Trowa could hear the under tones of disappointment and discouragement in Quatre’s voice as he talked about his father’s actions.

"Was he going to even ask if she wanted to marry him?" Trowa edgily inquired.

"I am sure he would of," Quatre said sitting up and turning to face Trowa with eyes full of troubles. "He had to get the council’s permission before he even asked her."

"If she did not want to marry him?"

"Then she would be free to go. Father never has forced anyone to marry him," Quatre said.

"Anyway," Quatre continued. "The council said no. Treize saw this as an opportunity to take possession of something the sultan desires and taunt him with it."

"She is just another pawn," said Trowa.

Quatre sadly nodded.

"I promise, I will not allow him to use her as such," Quatre gravely swore.

"I know you won’t," Trowa responded assuredly. "So do you have proof, yet?"

"Only my word against his," Quatre sighed running his fingers through his golden hair. "A few of Catherine’s recordings may be of use in combination with other evidence. The earlier search of his office provided me with nothing. What I need is not here or hidden.

"If I can record his meeting tomorrow, it would be a step in the right direction," Quatre mused as he assessed the new game board before him. "I doubt I can sneak out…. I might be able to get a message to Rashid."

"I’m going to sleep," said Trowa and pulled the covers back over him.

Quatre gave Trowa an absentminded acknowledgment.

Trowa buried his face into the pillow and left his friend to figure out the best way out of this mess.

Before dawn, Benzoin exited her room and entered an empty room at the front of the house. She pulled a pen light from the folds of her clothing. She opened the window. Cautious scanning located the person she was hopping to find there. Three flashes of the light brought a similar response from the shadowy figure. Benzoin smiled at the contact.

"Step two," Benzoin whispered.

Benzoin removed the black/gray disk from its hiding place. She checked the message secured to the underside of the disk before tossing it out the window. The disk glided through the air and dropped near the shadow. The shadow picked it up and removed the message. In the pale morning light, the shadow signaled understanding before slipping away.

A day and half had passed since Niveous’ arrival, and her brother set out to find her.

Benzoin cautiously maneuvered down one more hallway searching for the room with Niveous in it. She wished she had been able to follow Treize when he went to see Niveous yesterday. It would have made this job a lot easier.

She had ruled out the rooms she knew to be occupied before Niveous became a guest of her nephew. She doubted that Treize would put her on the same floor as their group, so she decided to check out the third floor rooms.

Benzoin pulled the door closed to one more unused room. The next door she tried was locked. She listened for the sound of movement on the other side of the door. She pulled out a few tools and picked the lock. Opening the door quietly, Benzoin hoped that this would be it.

She examined the room and was disappointed to find no one there. However, she did find the contents of the room of interest. It was full of weapons. Benzoin picked up one blaster and examined it. It was the same type the bandits around Bombadil used. Sage had quite a collection from the bandits they had apprehended. Benzoin put the blaster down and examined a few other items. The weapons did not automatically point a finger at Treize, but they might when added to other pieces.

Benzoin carefully looked out the window and unlatched it. She placed a small targeting dot in the curtain and a tracking device on one of the crates before leaving the room.

Benzoin’s hand twisted one more knob. This one belonged to the door at the end of this hall. It smoothly turned, and Benzoin felt disappointed because it was unlocked. She decided to check it out anyway.

Three walls of bars enclosed a four foot square area inside the door. Beyond the bars, the room was adequately furnished. There was a bed and dresser at one end. A dormant fireplace, along the outside wall, was encircled with two chairs and a small table.

"I have nothing to say to you," said the female in the chair.

Only her hand and forearm were visible as she draped it over the chair arm.

"Niveous?" Benzoin softly questioned. "Niveous?" she repeated slightly louder.

The woman twisted in the chair to look around its back. Her black braid fell over her shoulder. Her dark eyes widened at seeing an Itinerant on the other side of the bars. She quickly put away her shock.

"Who are you?" she neutrally asked.

Benzoin chuckled.

"Of course," Benzoin said motioning to the clothing and shifting to Quatre’s normal voice, "you would not recognize me in this, Snowflake."

"QR?" Niveous gasped before rushing to the wall separating her from her brother.

Quatre reached up and unfastened the face veil. It gently floated down to reveal his face.

"QR! How did you find me? How did you know?" she questioned as she cradled his cheek in her hand.

He clasped her other hand between his.

"Mostly luck," he answered with a cheeky grin.

"How do we get out of here?" Niveous asked.

"I have a plan to get us out, but it will have to be revised now that you are here," Quatre said.

"Who’s us?" she prodded.

"I, Catherine, and Trowa," Quatre answered.

Niveous was trying to sort out the jumbled pieces. Quatre took pity on her and gave her a quick rundown of how they were in Treize’s home.

"So how is Treize treating you?" he asked.

"He has not harmed me in any way," she answered and her whole body stiffened with the unpleasant topic. "He wanted to know where you are. He would not tell me why."

"He wants me dead," Quatre casually said.

"What!" she exclaimed.

"He wants the thrown. He is financing the bandits to discredit Father, and with me out of the way, he is next in line to the thrown."

"Why that…" she growled and clenched her fists. "He always was a bully."

"Did you tell him where I was?" Quatre asked.

"No. I don’t like co-operating with people that have me kidnapped," she pouted. "Even if he said it was to save your life."

"I want you to tell him where I was," Quatre said.

"What? Have you lost it?" she demanded.

"No, listen. You tell him in a convincing manner that all you know is I am in the Bombadil area. The only reason you know is that I stop in and see Thyme and Sage sporadically. It will give him a rabbit to chase and me an opening to do what I need to do."

Niveous agreed.

Quatre replaced his veil.

"Sorry, but you will have to play the helpless captive a bit longer," Quatre said with his hand on the knob to leave.

"At least I know it will not be for long," Niveous said and wished him farewell.

That evening Benzoin, Ro, and Catherine sat at the dinner table waiting for their unusually tardy host.

"Thank you for being patient," Treize said stepping into the doorway. "My aunt surprised me with a visit, and I insisted she stay till the wedding."

Treize entered the room. Niveous walked in his wake and took the empty seat to his left. Catherine softly gasped at Niveous.

"I believe you two have already met," Treize said inclining his head toward Catherine.

"Yes, we have," coolly said Niveous. "It is good to see you again, Catherine," Niveous smiled at Catherine.

"Beside Catherine sets Benzoin and her sister Ro," Treize continued.

The veiled women nodded their head as they were introduced. Niveous returned the gesture.

The servants carried in the platters of rich food. Dinner was accompanied by small talk that was initiated by Treize.

After dinner, Treize was called away to his office leaving the four women to entertain themselves. They strolled through the garden enjoying the cooling evening air.

"I told him," Niveous whispered to Benzoin walking in front of her.

Benzoin turned her head and softly answered, "Because of your present at dinner, I thought you might have."

"What are you guys talking about?" Catherine asked as she eyed the distant guards watching them from their posts.

"I told Treize where my brother might be," Niveous answered.

"Why?" hissed Catherine. "Nothing good can come of Treize knowing where your brother is." Catherine angrily fidgeted as she spoke. "He might even want to kill him."

"I know," Niveous calmly answered. "That is why I told him where my brother was, not where he is."

"Oh," happily sighed Catherine. "So you knew?" she asked relieved that Niveous had not set up her own brother for a trap.

"Umhu," Niveous replied. "I never really trusted Treize."

"Are you still in the same room?" Benzoin broke into the conversation and asked Niveous.

"No, he moved me to a room on the second floor," she responded, "and the size of my cell has expanded to the house."

"Good," Benzoin said. "Tonight around eleven, come to our room. We have things to talk about."

The two prisoners agreed.

A little after eleven Catherine and Niveous quietly slipped into their brothers’ room. The boys sat cross-legged on their beds waiting for them. Quatre smile shined at the two girls.

"Quatre, it is good to see you again," Niveous said giving him a hug. She turned her attention to Trowa and sat down on the edge of his bed. "And how has my dance partner been?" she asked joyfully.

"Fine," Trowa answered.

Catherine settled onto the foot of Quatre’s bed leaning back slightly with the support of her arm extended behind her.

"So, what’s your plan, Quatre?" Catherine asked rolling her head to look from Trowa and Niveous to Quatre.

He blinked and suddenly diverted his gaze to the occupants of the other bed.

"We will be getting out of here in two days," Quatre said.

"Have you found the evidence you need?" Catherine asked eagerly.

"Some. When I was looking for Niveous, I discovered a room full of weapons. I want to get a video recording for proof, and I am hoping, between the testimony of Niveous and myself, we can convince the council of Treize’s betrayal and deceit," Quatre answered.

"Will that be enough?" Trowa asked.

"I do not know." Quatre’s shoulders sagged with his answer, and he dolefully leaned against the headboard. "Maybe, we can find more evidence before our jail break. We do have another course of action to take," he said after a pause.

The others looked at Quatre keenly waiting for him to explain.

Quatre crossed his legs under him and sat up to look at his three friends.

"Once we get out of here, we just keep the prince alive," he stated with assurance in its completion.

Questions raced through Catherine’s mind. The foremost being how they would find the prince.

"That shouldn’t be too hard since we know where he is," Trowa said with an eye on his sister.

"Niveous did say she knows where her brother is," Catherine thought as Trowa’s statement reminded her of that fact.

"So, how are we getting out?" Niveous asked.

"My friends," Quatre smiled. "They will make an assault on the house while a small group helps us sneak out. We will have to move quickly, and timing will be crucial to our success."

The others nodded their understanding.

The next morning Treize prepared to leave for a few days. He asked Catherine to come to his office because he had to talk to her. She entered, stood before his desk, and guardedly watched his movements as he put items in his briefcase.

"My dear," he said to Catherine taking her hand in his. "I have to visit a troubled family member, and will return in a few days."

"Don’t want to introduce me to others in your family?" Catherine asked bordering on an indignant challenge.

"I want to keep you a secret until I can introduce you as my wife," he smiled down at her. "Someone might sweep in and steel you from me," he teased.

Catherine surprised a flinch at the irony of that statement and held her tongue.

"Uhmm," Lady Une cleared her throat. "You’re Excellency, it is time for us to leave," Lady Une said from the doorway.

"I must be off," he said before placing a light kiss on her cheek. He picked up his briefcase. "If you need anything, ask. Lewis will get it for you."

"I know," Catherine said.

Catherine waited until the door closed before wiping her cheek with her flowing sleeve gathered into her fist. She stepped forward and tripped on the floor rug. In two steps she gained her balance and triumphantly stood upright. She looked back over her shoulder and found the edge of the rug folded over.

She kicked at the rug to put it back in place, but it would not cooperate. The more she kicked at it the more it formed rippled across its length. She let out a frustrated growl as she bent down to fix it. She grabbed the carpet end and gave it a large shake. It smoothed out and laid properly on the floor only to have Catherine yank it aside so she could examine the floor.

Inquisitively she ran her hand over the surface probing for the release to the obvious panel in the floor. She could not make it open and replaced the carpet before someone came looking for her. She smiled with hope as she exited the room and went in search of her companions.

Catherine smiled when she exited the office. Benzoin was waiting in the hallway for her. Catherine slipped her arm through Benzoin’s in a friendly manner and directed set them in motion down the hallway.

"I think I found something," Catherine said in a hushed voice.

"What?" Benzoin asked.

"There is a panel under the carpet in his office. I could not open it, but thought you might have more luck," Catherine informed.

"Really," Benzoin said with interest piqued. "We will have to check that out.

"Did Treize say where he was going or how long he would be gone?" Benzoin asked.

"Only said he was visiting a troubled family member and would be gone in a few days," she answered as they entered the library.

Ro and Niveous looked up from their reading as they entered.

"A troubled family member or a troublesome family member," Benzoin mused before sitting down beside Ro. "I believe he took my bait," Benzoin announced to the others.

After lunch, Catherine showed the others her discovery.

Benzoin ran a hand over the floor. A flat metal tool appeared in her other hand. She inserted it into the outlining groove. After a bit of probing, the section of flooring was removed to reveal a safe.

"Needs a key," Niveous observed. "How are we going to open it?"

"Watch," Benzoin said.

In moments, Benzoin had it open with a few bits of metal wire.

"When did you learn how to do that?" Niveous asked surprised.

"I have learned many interesting talents since we last saw each other, Snowflake," Benzoin good- naturedly remarked.

"I guess you have," Niveous lightly laughed.

Their closeness suddenly hit Catherine, and she wondered what the nature of their relationship truly was. Rustling papers drew her attention back to what they were doing.

"These may be useful," Benzoin pronounced. "Start laying them out systematically on the carpet over there!" Benzoin dictated. "I will photograph them."

The group started working to secure the documentation to help their cause. In a short time, they were finished and the room back the way they found it.

"Tonight," whispered through Catherine’s mind as she excitedly waited in her room for the designated hour. She walked over to the wooden box that Quatre had presented to her their first day here. She gracefully turned it over and triggered the hidden release. A set of sheathed knives was nestled in the concealed compartment. Catherine reverently lifted one from its cradle. She pulled the knife out and examined the blade. She tested its weight and balance before snapping it back into the sheath satisfied. After strapping the knives to her forearms, Catherine slowly surveyed the room before deciding she had all she needed.

With one last turn, her hand rested on the silver rose to verify it was still there. She cynically laughed at herself. Against her better judgment, the ornate flower had become a cherished treasure.

"Don’t think about him," she warningly whispered. "Not in that way. You will only get hurt."

Catherine sighed as she curled up in a chair. She wrapped her arms around her upraised knees and ruminated over the past few weeks. Quatre was always so nice to her. He made her feel loved and protected much like Trowa did, but there was more to it. She knew what her feelings were for the blond. She was falling in love with him, but after watching Quatre and Niveous interact, she knew there was something special between them. She could not interfere with such a deep relationship. Plus, when this was over, she and Trowa would have to go home to the circus. Catherine rested her chin on her knees and resolved to put him behind her.

"Catherine," said a whisper that surprised Catherine. "It’s time to go," Benzoin informed her.

Kind and gentle blue eyes almost broke her resolve.

Catherine climbed out of the chair and smiled.

"Let’s get out of here," she said and followed her savior.

Ro and Niveous emerged from Niveous’ room to meet them in the hall.

"I already gave the signal, and the attack should begin in three minutes," Benzoin said looking at her watch before taking off down the hall.

They entered an unused room along the front of the house. Benzoin opened the window, leaned out and scanned the road below.

"Three… Two… One…" Benzoin counted stepping away from the window and motioning the others to do the same.

An alarm sounded as the attack began. They could hear the men running to the back of the house to protect their lord’s estate.

A projectile entered through the window and embedded into the ceiling. The rope affixed to it hung slack for only a moment.

Benzoin approached the window and waved to the man securing the other end to the neighbor’s wall. The man waved back and signaled it was ready. Benzoin pulled out a wheeled devise that attached to the rope.

"Trowa, you want to go first?" Benzoin asked offering Ro the handle.

"Sure," Ro said and was soon zipping down the rope to the street.

Niveous followed Ro.

"You’re next," Benzoin turned to Catherine.

Footsteps thudded down the hallway.

"Their coming," Catherine whispered concerned as she took hold of the handle.

"I know," Benzoin replied and pushed Catherine out the window.

Catherine got out of the way in time for Benzoin to drop to the pavement.

The man placed his palm to his chest as he slightly inclined his head and upper body to Benzoin.

"Master Quatre," he said with relief and respect.

"It is good to see you, Abdul," Benzoin said placing a friendly hand on the man’s shoulder.

Two other men joined them.

Catherine glanced up at the window they used to escape and saw a man watching them. She pulled at Ro’s sleeve and pointed out the man.

"They know we escaped," Catherine said before a small group of men came through the front door.

They ran. When they rounded the corner, a vehicle waited for them. They quickly piled in and took off. A few sharp turns and they pulled into a warehouse. Two men pulled the doors shut behind them sealing them in darkness. With a click, a small lamp flared to life.

"Master Quatre," greeted a deep resonating voice. "Welcome back."

Quatre tore off his veil and head scarf and cast them aside as he hopped out of their transport.

"Rashid!" happily greeted Quatre grasping the larger man’s arm.

"It is good to see you safe," Rashid said. "That applies to you, Trowa, and your sister."

The siblings accepted Rashid’s concern.

"I have a change of clothing for each of you," Rashid said motioning to a table behind him.

"Great!" said Quatre clasping his hands together.

"Is it something not involving lots of scarves?" Catherine asked disgustedly.

Rashid’s chuckle rumbled in his chest.

"I believe these will be more to your liking," he assured.

"Good. Where do I change?" Catherine asked.

"You and the princess can change in the back room," Rashid said as he handed them a second torch and gestured to the room.

"That will do nicely," Niveous said. "Thank you."

Rashid respectfully bowed to the princess. She smiled at him before picking up a stack of clothing. Catherine followed suit.

The girls returned in the loose fitting pant and shirt outfits to find Trowa and Quatre in similar attire talking to Rashid.

"So this is what you recorded from Treize’s meeting," Quatre said with a small speaker to his ear.

"Yes," Rashid answered.

Quatre listened to the rest of the recording. A deep concerned look creased his face.

"What is it?" Niveous asked moving to Quatre’s side.

"Nothing I did not already expect," Quatre sighed. "We need to get to the counsel," Quatre firmly stated. "What is your plan to get out of here?" he asked Rashid.

Hours after sunrise Rashid and Abdul drove a goods wagon out of the city. Hidden in the wagon was Catherine and Niveous. Quatre and Trowa exited as two travelers not long after. Quatre’s men slowly gathered in the desert by similar means of leaving the city before heading to the capital.

Their caravan traveled over the landscape when Ru bounded up the dune. Ru’s build was sleeker than Gra’s and her skin was yellow-brown. She moved with ease across the sand. She immediately headed for Quatre. Quatre called for the caravan to halt.

"Master, large group gathers. Attack soon from west," she said.

"Are they bandits?" he asked.

"Yes. One followed earlier with girl," she said looking toward Catherine.

"Then it’s Treize’s men. Call Gra," Quatre requested.

"Yes," she answered.

Ru moved to the top of the dune and yowled across the sand.

Quatre ordered his men to be ready for a fight. They started readying their weapons for the impending conflict.

Quatre moved to the back of one of the transports. After throwing back the tarp, he pulled a box toward him. Noiselessly the latches flipped up and the lid opened to reveal a set of laser scimitars. Quatre caressed the blade. Pride, respect and sorrow danced across his features as he lifted a sword in each hand. A minute movement and they flared to life. Quatre gave them a few experimental swings before deactivating. With long practice, he simultaneously secured each in a hook at either hip.

"You always were good with those," Niveous stated from where she and Catherine watched.

He graciously smiled at her before turning to Trowa.

"What type of weapons would you prefer, Trowa?" Quatre asked.

"What sort of combat will be in?" Trowa asked.

"They start with blasters to confuse and panic the caravan before sweeping in with spears and swords for hand to hand combat and to take the goods," Quatre answered.

"And my options?" Trowa inquired.

Quatre pulled out a few more boxes and opened them while the girls came closer to see. Each was filled with a variety of weapons. Trowa examined the contents asking questions when he did not recognize something.

"I’ll take this," Trowa said lifting a double-barrel rifle type blaster and slipped the strap over his shoulder, "and this for hand to hand." Trowa pulled a two foot machete from the stack of sharp weapons.

Quatre nodded approvingly at Trowa’s choices.

"What about us?" Niveous asked.

Quatre looked at her with a stone face.

"You will not need any," he answered making Niveous slightly ticked.

"Why not?" she demanded.

Before Quatre formed his answer, Ru and Gra returned to learn how they could serve their master. They bowed respectfully.

Quatre warmly greeted them and thanked them for their aid.

"I have two favors to ask of you and your people," Quatre said.

"Ask. If possible, we do," Ru assured.

"I know," warmly smiled Quatre. "I need your people to warn the Itinerant to watch the sands. The second thing I ask, take Niveous and Catherine with you. We will follow later."

Ru and Gra bowed their heads signaling acceptance while the two girls protested.

"Listen here!" declared Niveous waving a hand at her brother. "I am not going to be treated like some item to be packed away till it’s convenient."

"I’m not. I am hiding you away like a valued treasure," Quatre firmly said moving to stand before Niveous. Quatre’s eyes softened showing the love and care he felt for her. "I just got the two of you freed," he said with a quick longing glance at Catherine, "and I will not give him a chance to reclaim you." Quatre placed a light kiss on Niveous’ cheek, and she momentarily had nothing to say.

Quatre stepped back and nodded his head.

Ru and Gra each swept a lady into their strong arms and headed across the desert. Their passengers struggled as they disappeared over the first dune.

"Niveous will calm down soon," Quatre sighed.

"Catherine will as well, but I believe she feels spurned with your show of affection for Niveous," Trowa pointed out.

Quatre’s shoulders slumped slightly forward. "I know," he regretfully replied. "I feared that, but it was the only way to get my point through to my sister. She can be so obstinate at times."

"I know the type," Trowa said turning to their caravan. "If you explain, she will forgive you," he added.

Quatre followed his friend.

"But, will she forgive me for not telling her the truth from the beginning?" Quatre quarried before they got lost in battle preparations.