Touch of Fate

Chapter 323: Spy Games

"So, you're saying that you lost him?" Kuyana asked quietly while trying her best to keep her tone level.

She evidently failed, since all three of the men in front of her flinched noticeably. Bertrand, the squad leader for this scouting team, nodded. "That is the truth of it, ma'am. We have no excuse."

One of the other two, a relatively new recruit whose name she'd never bothered to learn, spoke up suddenly. "That's not right! How are we supposed to follow him when he summons a dragon and flies off?!"

"Jural! Enough!" Betrand reprimanded him quickly. "If you speak out of turn again, I'll have you busted back down to cadet."

Kuyana sighed at the farcical display. Clearly the quality of the White Lions had declined over the years. "It's alright, squad leader. What he's saying is true. It would be a little too much to expect for you to manage this without outside assistance. However, I'm curious. Why did you not request other assets once you'd determined that this could be a possibility?"

The three men remained silent, obviously unable to give a decent answer.

"Feeling reticent? Then, let me answer for you. You knew that the target was capable of flight. That was clear from the reports I've gotten from the detachment guarding the Screaming Dark. My guess is that you believed he would not have a means of quickly transporting the rest of the party, and rather than splitting the credit for observing such an important target, you thought you could compensate by watching his companions for any major moves. Is that about it?"

"That's" Betrand started, looking a great deal more unsure than when he started his report.

She sighed again. "No need to answer. Report back to Captain Talmund and tell him that you are in need of retraining. Perhaps starting over from the basics will teach you the value of working with the goals of the Lions in mind. I'll have another squad clean up after you. Dismissed."

The trio saluted and left.

One they were gone, Kuyana leaned back in her chair, causing the chain of her heavy silver necklace to clink, the lion's head medallion signifying her rank as deputy commander of the White Lions resting on her chest. It was an uncomfortable way to wear the badge of her office, but her superior would not countenance changing it to something a bit more convenient.

[Now, how am I going to handle this?]

She pulled open a drawer on the right side of her desk, and removed all of the contents. This mainly consisted of a few personal items mixed with a handful of old documents and a couple spare writing utensils. Piling them unceremoniously on the floor, she then carefully removed the false bottom of the drawer, making sure to deactivate the rune carved into its reverse side.

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Next, she reached in and removed a shallow bowl formed from a dark obsidian-like material. With a simple chant, she filled it with water and then used her belt knife to prick the tip of one of her fingers, allowing a few drops to fall into the water.

"My subordinates have lost contact with the target. He was last spotted flying north on the back of a dragon he managed to summon somehow, along with all of his party members. It is unclear whether he intends to return at this time." She murmured quietly into the bowl.

For a few seconds, there was silence, and then the surface of the blood stained water rippled again and a distorted voice male emerged. "That is within predictions, but ensure that a team is on standby should he come back to the city. More importantly, what triggered his exodus?"

"I'm not certain, but he left after speaking with the Guildmaster of the Adventurer's Guild. It's possible that he was alerted to the forces observing him. Namely that of our erstwhile competitors."

A low growl was transmitted through the bowl. "It would not be surprising for those corpse-eaters to botch a simple information-gathering job. Do you have any evidence?"

Kuyana resisted the urge to grimace at the racism, and took a moment to gather her thoughts. Her employer was all but outright stating that he intended to pass the message up the chain to his own superiors, and wanted to ensure that any claims he made against his political enemies would be verifiable.

"None that I could provide to the august company you keep, but I am fairly certain. The Guildmaster is known to have connections with a few members of the Court. It seems plausible that these contacts would have given him a warning."

"Hmm" Came the distorted reply. "You may well be on to something. Thankfully, the target's quick actions immediately following the meeting all but confirmed the source of the information. It seems earlier reports of his inexperience are not unfounded."

"Of course, that does not rule out the possibility of him intentionally misleading us. His novitiate persona may well be an act designed specifically to make his opponents underestimate him." Kuyana shot back, hoping to keep the infuriatingly obtuse man from making an inconvenient conclusion.

"Maybe, although I find that hard to believe given his age. Perhaps he's a tool of one of the other factions, sent here to interfere with our plans now that we've reached this point?"

"You believe them capable of bending a Tier 4 to their will without turning him?"

The voice took on a smug tone. "For all of their power and ability, you mustn't forget that a Tier 4 is still a mortal. With all of a mortal's failings and temptations...Regardless, there is much to be done yet, so I am concluding this conversation here. Contact me again if there are any other major developments."

With a hiss of escaping steam, the bloodied water evaporated, leaving no sign of its presence in the bowl. She returned the self-cleaning object to its hiding place and replaced the various items meant to disguise it.

Office restored to its usual appearance, she turned and glanced out of the window, momentarily noting the recruits were in the middle of endurance training. The ragged line of humanoid forms fighting to maintain the brutal pace of their instructors as they ran laps around the courtyard seemed a particularly poignant metaphor for the events of this morning.

After a few moments of contemplation, she stood and moved to leave her office, heading towards the top floor of the keep where her mortal superior kept his chambers. She would do her best to explain what was going on, even though she doubted he would understand, and then convince him that there was no reason to engage in some kind of pointless show of force.

As the spoiled son of one of the more powerful members of the ruling council of Gildusi, the Commander of the White Lions was placed in his position more for politics than for merit. A fact that was adequately demonstrated by his complete lack of ability or sense and his efforts to 'bring the Lions into the modern era.' It was almost all Kuyana could do to prevent the worst of his 'improvements' from destroying the foundation of their organization too soon.

[Just a little while longer, and I'll be free.] She thought for the third time today, steeling herself for the idiocies that would surely be coming.

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Rodan glanced over his shoulder, confirming that the alley was clear before pulling open the cellar door and descending into the dingy room. He moved to the far wall, taking a moment to remember which of the hundreds of bricks he needed to press in order to open the passage, entering the hidden doorway once he did.

His eyes adjusted quickly, and he made his way down another set of steps and into a corridor, once again enjoying the feel of the ancient stonework beneath the soles of his boots. Something about the High Elven craftsmanship, the way it maintained it's sharp and distinctive texture despite the millenia, always gave him a sense of awe and wonderment.

While it was likely something of an open secret amongst the ruling elite, not many of the ordinary Glidusan citizens knew about the ruins their city was built on. Ruins dating to the height of the Second Age.

Before long, Rodan reached the place he was supposed to meet up with his contact, a small chamber branching off from the main corridor that must have once been some kind of kitchen. While there were still a few remnants of ceramic pottery and some implements whose original purpose remained something of a mystery, none of the foodstuffs had survived the long years spent entombed beneath the earth.

"Oh? You're a bit early." Pelonti announced cheerfully, still chewing a mouthful of something. "I'm still finishing up lunch. Would you care for some? I've got a nice, fresh one today. Only died earlier this morning. Bit on the chewy side, unfortunately."

Rodan grunted and took a seat on one of the stone benches near the entrance. He glanced down on the pile of greying flesh that looked to have once been a male beastman of some kind. "I'll pass. Never could develop a taste for their kind. Too gamey."

"More for me, I suppose." The other ghoul shrugged. "Now then, what did you want to talk about? I'm sure your family didn't send you here to discuss the finer points of dining."

"Information exchange, obviously. I'm sure your side is aware of the current interests of those blood suckers uptown?"

"You mean the fabled Hero of Almir that everyone is up in arms about? But of course."

"Well," Rodan explained while pulling out his pipe and filling it, "my family felt it would be an ideal chance to beat them to the punch."

Pelonti glanced over at him, a scrap of gristle dangling from his mouth. "Are we still talking about the Dragonknight?"

"In part, but we would also seek to deprive our opponents of the" He paused to grope for the right word, "fruit of their efforts of the last few years."

That earned a chuckle. "Grand notions. Assuming you had the ability to back them up, I can imagine my people would be willing to partake."

Rodan suppressed a grin. With this, he'd already accomplished his first goal for this conversation. "Do you have any eyes and ears among the clergy in this city?"

The other ghoul gave him an amused glance. "Is it even worth investing any effort in watching those god botherers? I can understand doing so in other parts of the world, but here in Gildusi, the gods are oftentimes the furthest thing from the peoples' minds."

"Which is exactly how we planned it, but considering our history, my family has always sought to keep a close eye on the religiously minded, lest we be caught by surprise again."

"The Purges...of course."

Rodan nodded. "Thankfully, the churches of this city no longer have the power to conduct anything quite like that, but they have recently been involved in some rather interesting events."

"Oh?"

"It seems that there is a shakeup in the Church of Aminatrea. Apparently a cell of Anathema was discovered on the central continent, leading to an extensive investigation of the entire church hierarchy. The Ecclesiarch of our fair city was quite beside himself with worry."

"I would imagine so. That kind of investigation has the tendency to turn up all sorts of dangerous information, such as funds he's been slowly embezzling from the church's public works budget."

"Ah, so you do have a few listeners among the clergy."

Pelonti shrugged before taking a bite out of a slightly hairy forearm. "I wouldn't say we have a dedicated spy, but it never hurts to stay informed."

"Then of course you must have realized that the Ecclesiarch was less upset about the possibility of his crime coming to light then about the impediment this investigation poses to his own plans."

That caused the ghoul mouth to stop working for a moment, as he stared at Rodan in utter amazement. "You mean to suggest" He grinned. "Oh, that is good! Anathema here?! In the same church that conducted the Purges a mere generation ago.?! How rich!"

After a few seconds of gleeful exclamation, he frowned. "But where does the Hero of Almir fit into the picture?"

Rodan grinned again. "Why, that's the best part. His history shows that he's prone to getting involved in problems of the people he meets, and yet wherever he goes he's entropy itself. Throwing the plans of the powerful into chaos. Tearing apart their schemes and leaving them in a panic with his presence alone. Leaving them distracted."

Pelonti's eye's lit up. "Leaving them...vulnerable."

"Exactly."