Out in the stable, Kaldir picked up a brush and curry comb from where someone had left them in his horse's stall and began to groom Nico's dappled gray coat. He did the work by habit, as he had done a hundred or so times before, his thoughts occupied elsewhere.
As he worked the horse's sleek coat from neck to tail, Kaldir's mind raced ahead to the coming hours of darkness, trying to decide which course of action he should follow. He envisioned the inn's grounds as a chessboard, the players in his particular drama as the chesspieces. It helped him to assess the threat or vulnerability of each player as an individual. With himself cast mentally as the black knight, he saw the two elfladies, Vanwe and Lespheria, as the white bishops. They were quick in their movement and dangerous to a degree, but limited in their power. Hanasian, or Silvanis as he called himself now, was the white knight. Mobile and no doubt as physically strong as Kaldir himself, he presented the largest threat. The desert woman with her broken ankle had been reduced to a pawn, slow-moving and vulnerable, if she could be separated from the protection of the others. As for her hobbit friend... he wavered there, unable to decide if she should be cast as a pawn or a rook. Finally, he decided she would be a white rook. It was always better to overestimate the opposition than to be caught ill-prepared.
Between his two possible targets, Vanwe or the desert woman, Kaldir decided to wait and see who would provide him with the best opportunity. Sometimes, on the chessboard, it was easier to capture a careless bishop than a cautious pawn. While Vanwe, as the daughter of Naiore Dannan, would bring the higher price if delivered to the right buyer, the desert woman, Benia, as he believed she was called, was of more interest to him personally. He had always been partial to her particular kind of exotic beauty. It would be a pity to kill her, although, ideally, that would be the easiest thing to do. With Vanwe, he would have to deliver her alive, but with Benia, all he really needed was her hands. The intricate clan markings tattooed on her palms would be enough proof of her capture to allow him to collect the bounty. He smiled to himself. This tattooing of women was an odd custom, but it certainly made his job easier.
He finished with the grooming and exited the stall, planning to return to the common room, as it would be easier to track the movements of the others from there. He had gone but a few steps when he caught from the corner of his eye, the sight of a lone figure standing by the well. It was Vanwe. She had apparently just placed a candle on the edge of the well, and stood there in its light, twisting a strand of hair absently through her fingers. Melting unseen back into the shadows of the stable, Kaldir followed her gaze to where Silvanis stood just outside the front door of the inn.
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