*WARNING: if you're Catholic, please don't be offended by this. Its about the reign of Bloody Mary*

Saldin was skipping through the market. It was crowded; people were looking at him oddly. However, if Saldin noticed these odd glances, he did not pay them any heed. His mind had receded to that corner of the head from which all creative thoughts spring. At that moment, he was envisioning a scene in which the town drunk had received a rose from Queen Mary. Saldin had pilfered a rose from a vender somewhere al ng the way, and it was now being waved about in a manner so comical, that many of those giving odd glances were also laughing uproariously.

From a nearby ally, a man's face erupted into a smile, "Saldin!"

Saldin's head snapped around, his eyebrows furrowed, and with one hand still up in the air, "Nathan? Is that you?" His eyes sought out the man to whom the voice belonged, and landed on a figure shrouded in the gray cloak of the ally. Then it was his turn to let his face erupt into a smile. "So it is! Well met!" He walked over to the ally and clasped Nathan's hand in both of his, a hearty handshake.

"I see you haven't changed a bit, Saldin. Still as cracked as you always were, eh?"

Saldin laughed, Not a bit, though you don't seem to have changed much since the last time I saw you. " He grinned and raised an eyebrow while drawing in a deep breath. The overpowering stench of alcohol greeted his nostrils, "I see you're still living in the taverns."

"Aye, so I am, what do you say to a drink, mate?"

"A fair plan if I do say so myself. They both grinned deeply, a grin of friendship that had sunken into the marrow of their bones.

It was dark inside the tavern, and that was most likelly a good thing. Enought men were hung over here on a daily basis, that it was quite possible that no one even bothered to clean the floors any more. They sat down at a table in a corner of the tavern. Saldin ordered a red wine, and Nathan ordered ale.

When they had settled down to their drinks, Nathan turned a serious eye to Saldin. "What do you think about Mary, Saldin?"

"Mary!" Saldin scoffed, "She's noaught but a loony if you ask me. I think she should be dealt with just like that witch, Boleyn."

Nathan raised his eyebrow with a look that was not quite amused, "Don't let any hear you say that, mate, or its your head'll be on the stump."

Saldin grinned sardonically and took a gulp of wine. "'Twas alsmost better when her ol' dad was on the throne, and I'm not afraid to say it. What have I got to lose? I've just about lost my plays. I don't think the queen appreciates my sense of humor." The last was coupled with a wry twist of the mouth. Saldin's plays were mostly satires either on the Roman Catholic Church, or on Queen Mary. Occasionally on her father. It had gotten him in a fair deal of trouble, and Hastings was only his most recent dwelling.

Nathan sighed, "As ye say, mate."

Saldin raised a questioning eyebrow, but said no more on the matter. Instead, he turned to his latest interest, the drunk with the rose.

When several hours had passed, and much talking was finished, the two retired from the tavern. Nathan had been oddly silent for the rest of the niht, and drank his ale as though it was some vile bug that he could not quite get down. When Saldin had inquireed upon the various grimaces that his friend was making, Nathan had been unusually frank and told Saldin that something was on hi mind. Saldin had pressed the matter no further. He could tell when his friend did not want to talk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morning dawned red in London as Nathan rode into the city. Saldin had been killed, a traitor, as the queen suspecdted. Nathan did not like to think of himself as the queen's assassin, especially not when the victim was his best friend, but such was the case. He had entered into her service as a sort of redemption for associating with the wrong Protestant groups. Now, the church praised him as a hero. A man who had made such a wonderful turn around generally did not scoff at his gifts, but as he rode into the city with the red sunlight painting his face with Saldin's blood, he wondered what exactly a hero was.