Parker Webb.
"Are you true to me and the old Rogue or ... them?" Her voice had hardened slightly, and Kayla had pulled a dagger out.
Parker didn't flinch. "I'm not true to anyone, dear. But word on the street is that if you take down ... them, then you'll have a pretty bit of power. And, scoundrel that I am, I'd like a bit of that power. Or rather, I'd like what comes with that power. Money, really."
He slid his hand into his breast pocket and drew out the letter that had been sent to him. The man who had sent it was probably of no important to either of the parties; just an informer who would scrape a few coins by leading other people, like Parker, to the places where the big money could be found.
"Here," he said. "I was told about you and your, if I may be so blunt, crazy plot." Parker lowered his eyes a little. "I'm sure you have a cast iron way of taking over ... them," he fought to keep the mocking tone from his voice, "but I'm also sure that I could help you. Ask around, you'll find out about me."


