Satchel

"Perhaps the others should look at it first, to confirm that I do not alter the evidence," The Provider demurred. He suspected some trick was at play here, and did not want to be the first one to touch whatever was in the bag.

Roland gulped, but the Judge nodded. Roland was glad he'd had the time for Mrs. Sherman to hastily embroider the Provider's initials just in case someone actually wanted to inspect the little bag.

The Judge looked over the bag briefly, then handed it to the Peacekeeper. The Peacekeeper did a slightly more thorough examination, and the bag made its way around the Council table.

The General poked at the bag, sniffed it, then opened it and took a pinch of its contents between his fingers. He inhaled it closely as the Provider's eyes narrowed. Satisfied, he returned the perfumed mixture to the bag, and handed it to Roland, who held his hand out to deliver it back to the other side of the crescent-shaped table where the Provider sat.

Reaching the Provider, Roland held his hand out, palm flat, the little satchel out for inspection. The General had not closed the bag, and its strings were loosened, giving ready view into what was inside.

The Provider eyed Roland warily, then turned his attention to the satchel briefly.

"It is not mine," He said dismissively.

"Please confirm whether the plants are ones grown in your garden or not," Insisted Roland.

The Provider leaned forward slightly until he could peer down into the bag. At that moment, Roland quickly contracted his fingers, sending the powdered herbs out in a poof of air directly into the older man's face.

The crowd reacted strongly to what must be a terribly timed prank. The Provider coughed and sneezed, and guards came forward to pull Roland away from him. Roland didn't resist, his eyes glued to the official he had just mildly assaulted with a cloud of flora.

They had almost hauled him completely out of the room when he finally put up a fight. Planting his feet, he strained to keep his view of the Council room. The coughing and sneezing continued with increasing intensity, with the citizens becoming concerned that this was an assassination attempt via inhaled poison.

Voices in the crowd began to rise in angst and anger, when suddenly the noise died down and began to change.

There, wearing the Provider's clothes and standing in the place he had just occupied, stood a man with black hair and ominous, black eyes that wildly looked around the room, not comprehending the sudden stares he was receiving.

"I am all right now," The voice was no longer anything like the Provider's, but had a deeper, coarser tone. His hand went to his throat, "Excuse me, that coughing must have affected my voice," he looked down at his hand, realizing its smooth skin and vibrant appearance no longer matched the older man he'd been impersonating for over a year.

He blinked, and in a flash turned to flee the room. Roland strained against the arms that held him, but wasn't fast enough to get to the spy.

Riley jumped into the man's path, and ducked from a punch that was thrown at him. Irritated at the attempted assault, Riley, drew back and threw a right hook, making explosive contact with the man's jaw.

The powerful blow did not bring the man down, despite Riley using much of his considerable strength. As Riley reached the end of his follow through, he tensed his muscles and reversed his momentum, bringing his elbow back across the man's jaw as he turned back toward the traitor.

The unexpected strike stunned the man, and Riley was able to pass the spy off to waiting guards to constrain him and haul the man out of the room.

The people erupted in confusion and outrage. No one was quite sure what had happened, where the Provider had gone, or how this strange black-eyed man had appeared.

Roland was brought forward, and the Council stared at him in silence, implicitly demanding an explanation. The main guard struck the stone floor to push the crowd to silence.

"I apologize for the method," Roland stated, "Those herbs were a mixture that nullifies magic. That man is a spy from the Rhone who replaced the Provider about a year ago. The real Provider has been held prisoner by the Rhone since that time. They possess magic to change a person's voice and appearance to be like that of someone else. It was vital to expose the traitor, and I apologize for the disruptive method in which it was done." He bowed.

Astonished silence covered the room, until the Judge spoke.

"Let the soldier go, and the Provider's wife as well. Please take the spy to the jail and isolate him. No visitors whatsoever until further notice. The Council will retire to confidential discussion of these unprecedented events, and will reconvene publicly tomorrow. Guards, please clear the City Hall and assure the public that there will be a thorough investigation and governmental release of information as soon as practicable."

______________________

Roland waited outside the jail, pacing nervously. Things had happened quickly in the aftermath of the Council meeting. He was not held for long, only questioned briefly and then asked to report early in the morning to give the details of his involvement. His disguise had been left in place until after he departed, so none except the General immediately realized who he was, or his relation to the situation.

The General's influence swelled as the accusation against the Provider was proven to be shockingly worse than anyone had imagined. As the one who brought it before the Council, The General was most beyond suspicion.

With the help of the guards, the fake Provider was subdued, Roland was released, and The General blessedly advised the Peacekeeper to release any prisoners the Provider had been insisting be arrested. The General had accepted Ashley's resignation from the military on the spot, and she had hurried off to collect her mother and take her home.

Roland was awaiting the carrying out of that direction now. It was his understanding that the delay was the girls' being allowed to wash and change clothes before release; neither one wanted to be walking the streets in the same clothes they'd been imprisoned in for days.

Turning again, Roland huffed his impatience. The sun showed it was well into the afternoon, and he desperately needed to make progress on researching the solution to the prophecy.

He heard a door open and spun, but it was a nearby building, not the one he was waiting in front of. What could be taking so long?

He closed his eyes and ran over the prophecy again in his mind. The Sorcerer had to be the main clue that was missing. Right? If he could unravel what the Sorcerer's Will was, then surely the rest of the words would fall easily into place. Another sound caught his attention but he ignored it in his focus on the problem... until Mayra's chatter came through.

"I really do think they could stand to apologize to us a little more for the way we were treated," The girl insisted. "It was completely atrocious and the food was absolutely terrible! I couldn't believe they had the nerve to serve..."

But Finn wasn't listening. When Roland's eyes opened and focused on her the rest of the world disappeared. He was a short distance away, having wandered a bit afield in the course of his nervous pacing. But that didn't last long.

She opened her mouth to greet him but was cut off as he rushed up and swept her into his arms, crushing her into an embrace as his lips met hers. Startled, she gasped lightly, only to have one of his hands find its way into her hair and press her closer still. The other was at the small of her back, and the heat she felt radiating from it filled her.

Finally overcoming her initial shock, her arms found their way around his neck and she kissed him back with all the pent up emotion of weeks thinking he was dead. Tears streamed down her face as the emotion became too much for her to contain.

He pulled back a moment to rest his forehead against hers. In a husky voice he whispered, "Will you cry every time I kiss you, Serafina?"

"I hope it won't discourage you if I do," Her breathing and heartbeat were erratic, and she barely got the words out with the air she had in her lungs. She was beginning to get lightheaded, but in an oddly enjoyable way.

"Not in the least," He smiled, capturing her lips again in a searing kiss she felt down to her toes.

Mayra cleared her throat loudly, "I guess I'll just walk back by myself. Don't mind me at all. No, I'm completely fine, I insist. I'll even carry your really important bag from the Fae, too, it's my pleasure." She continued her little monologue as she walked away, leaving the couple feeling only slightly guilty for ignoring her presence.