Dervila’s heart pounded as she climbed the stairs through the great tree; not from exertion, her well-toned body was the epitome of female fitness, her blood raced in rage. She had tried all day to distract herself, but a single question dominated her thoughts and she couldn’t find any peace until it was answered. She emerged onto the open platform, the guards snapping to attention at the sight of her, and strode directly to one cell. The cells were seldom used, most transgressions in the forest were punished without incarceration, but it was likely they would be holding their current occupants for a long time to come. Unlike most cities, which buried their prisoners in stone beneath their citizens’ feet, Relkath’s Foot’s were hung high in the boughs above the closest thing to a fortified structure in the woodlands… the Master’s Hall. The cells were little more than solid wooden boxes with small air holes near their top and a door in one side, each hung from a single great chain, allowing them to sway and pitch as their occupants moved. Stopping before the cell, Dervila gestured to the guard who lowered the small bridge that hooked on bars flanking the door, both allowing access to the cell and holding it still, he then unlocked the stout door after checking that the prisoner within was a safe distance from it through the shuttered window. “Lock it, leave the bridge and… give me some privacy,” she commanded, handing her sword belt to him. The door slammed behind her, the lock clanked and the shutter slide closed, leaving her alone with him; Saevel… the traitor! No one would be surprised that she was there. In fact most of the Masters had expected her to confront him sooner; and he knew she would come… sooner or later. “I’m impressed,” he smirked arrogantly, his struggle to climb to his feet made difficult by his arms being bond behind his back. “You waited a whole day. I didn’t think you had that much self-control.” Dervila snarled and struck him across the face with enough force to send him crashing into the wall. “Why?” she demanded in a voice nearly choked with rage as he righted himself and faced her again. “Why should I tell you?” he sneered with an evil grin. “The Princess has decreed my fate… I’m to live out my days as a slave to those I would have sold into slavery… so you can’t kill me without defying her will and you would never do that… no matter how much you want to!” “She denied me pleasure of killing you,” Dervila snarled, “but she didn’t forbid me from treating you like the scum you are!” She punctuated her statement by driving her fist into his stomach, but he was prepared for her attack and was only staggered briefly. “You know that’s not going to get you the answer you want,” he taunted, the arrogant grin returning to his face as soon as he caught his breath. “You’re not here because I betrayed the order, you want to know how I could betray you after you graced me with the privilege of sharing your bed… and I’ll tell you… for a price!” Dervila followed his eyes as he looked down his own hard muscular frame, knowing full well what he was implying!