Agent of the Dragon

“What have you done to my journeyman?” Bryn laughed. “He hasn’t been able to concentrate ever since he returned from the palace two days ago.” He set his cup of tea on the library table where he and Rhysa were seated.

Rhysa smirked. “He’d become infatuated with Elise, and was making a nuisance of himself. I simply provided an alternate target. I’m afraid between the two of us, we confused the boy.” She calmly took a sip of her own tea.

Bryn snorted. “I think we taught you too well.”

Rhysa shrugged. It was probably true. She preferred to act indirectly when possible--not out of any sense of insecurity, but as misdirection. If direct action was called for at some point, no one would be looking at her, which made her job easier.

Bryn calmed his laughter and changed the subject. “That splicing trick is interesting. I know it’s going to be a while before my control is fine enough to handle muscles or tendons; I don’t want to practice on people. You said it was a technique sailors use to repair rope?”

Rhysa nodded. “Seems to work well, too. You’d never know the ropes had had to be repaired--excuse me, ‘sheets.’ I went down to the docks yesterday to talk with a couple of officers in the Royal Navy.” She had, too, though they talked more about the emblem Elise had described, than sheet repair techniques. She’d merely used splicing as a way to get the officers to open up a little.

“Diversions aside, have you decided what you’ll do for your journey-period?”

“I’ll join the Royals as an agent.”

Bryn nodded as if he’d expected it. “It’s the only formal path that will make use of all your skills. When do you start?”

“The initial placement testing takes place in a couple days. I’ll meet the Head Agent then.”

“Really? Does he meet every new agent?”

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure who it is. I have a suspicion who he might be, but I have no proof. As far as I know, only the Royal Agents and the Royals themselves know who leads the Royal Agents.”

“Huh. What’s the pay scale like?”

“According to what they sent me, there’s a base stipend amount plus an additional payment per job. They’ll also barter service for service. For instance if I choose to forgo job payment, I can elect to call on the services of any other Royal group, such as another agent, or naval ship, or up to a platoon of common soldiers. This, of course, assumes I’m not on assignment. If I judge an assignment requires it, I can get any of those and more without sacrificing job payment.”

“That’s...um.... That’s quite a pay package. It’s an on-call position?”

Rhysa nodded. “More or less. I suspect there are daily tasks I’ll need to accomplish when not on a specific assignment. Not to mention on-going training and research. That’s what the stipend payment is for.”

“Sounds pretty close to your dream job.”

“Oh, it is.” Rhysa sighed, a contented sound. “Thank you for the tea.” She looked around and sighed again, a little sadly this time. “I’ll miss this.”

He stood and hugged her. “You’ve more than repaid our expectations, and you’ll always be welcome here.” His voice had taken on the too cheerful quality of someone determined to keep things from getting maudlin. Then he released her and stepped back. “If you ever need my help, just send for me.”

Rhysa nodded. “I will.” She met Emylie on her way out. Rhysa said a brief good-bye, hugged her, and kissed her cheek. She climbed into the carriage the palace stableman had loaned her. She opened the communication slide at the front of the passenger cabin.

“I need to see Lord Amonteus, next. There’s no particular hurry.”

“Yes, m’Lady,” the driver responded and clucked at the horses. Rhysa closed the slide and sat back in the soft cushions.

As she rode to House Amonteus, Rhysa thought over the conversations she’d had recently. Some were productive in an immediate sense, others were little more than tentatively expanding her network of contacts. Whoever this group behind the riot was, they were very good at remaining hidden unless they wanted to be seen. Few people recognized the emblem at all. One or two had lied, betrayed by a facial tick. She hoped Jayse had come up with something.

As it turned out, though, the only thing he’d come up with she hadn’t already known, was that the emblem had been seen at charity events all over the city. Apparently, they even participated in such events involving non-humans. She left House Amonteus feeling a little lost. People sporting that emblem seemed to be central to a possible plot to rid the city of non-humans. On the other hand, some of the same people worked with charity groups serving the non-humans of the city. It was possible one or the other was a blind, but she didn’t have enough information to say which was the blind, or what the ultimate purpose was. Nor did she know how to go about finding out. She was in a pensive mood by the time she returned to her apartments.

Rhysa paced in front of the empty fireplace in the private living area, cudgeling her mind for some clue--some path left unexplored. She knew she was missing something. Something she thought she should have caught when it was said. She began to go over everything she’d learned so far.

She started with registered fact. There had been five convictions: four for malicious vandalism and one for murder. The vandalized properties were prosperous non-human shops. The murder victim was a prominent non-human advocate. All five humans convicted of the crimes were associated with the hermaphroditic emblem. That same emblem had been reliably seen working with charity groups serving non-humans. Those were really all the concrete facts she had.

Rhysa contemplated the other piece of information: Elise’s comments about riots in general, and this one in particular. The underlying cause seemed to be tensions between humans and non-humans, yet no one could agree on the cause. Even those wearing the emblem in question told contradictory versions of events.

She stopped her pacing. Attitudes. Did the testimonies reveal any common attitudes? She went to the office, pulled the files of testimonies, and sat at the desk. She separated the testimonies of those who wore the emblem from those who did not. Before she read them, she looked at the relative size of the stacks. The size of the stack containing testimonies from emblem wearers was a significant number, but not even close to half the size of the other stack. Satisfied the emblem-wearing group was not a majority of participants, she began to read.

A knock on the open office door pulled her hazily from the depths of the testimonies. She looked towards the door, blinking to restore her focus.

Elise wore an evening gown of dark blue and soft boots of a complimentary color. It wasn’t an Aryn Cavass creation, but still artfully created. Around her neck, she wore a single strand of pearls. Her hair was braided into a single rope of hair, which she’d pulled over her shoulder.

“Are you going to get ready?” Elise asked.

Rhysa furrowed her brows in confusion and blinked at Elise. “For what?”

Elise gave an exasperated sigh. “We’re having dinner with the prince.”

Rhysa’s eyes widened. She’d completely forgotten. She, Elise, Jagun, and Hallyk were having a formal dinner. Hallyk had said there might be one or two others there, too. She stood and closed the current file.

“I don’t have time for a full bath,” she said as Elise trailed her. “I’ll have to make do with a dunking and toweling. As for what to wear.” She paused and looked at Elise. “Hmmm. Can you get my black and crimson gown ready? The one with the trailing sleeves you say make me look like a bird of flame.”

Elise nodded. “Jewelry?”

“Let’s keep things simple. The single ruby pendant.” Rhysa’s eyes flicked towards Elise’s ears and back. “No earrings.”

Elise turned to the wardrobe while Rhysa hurried into the private bathing chamber, shedding clothes as she went. She filled two buckets with water and tapped the overlay to heat the first to a comfortable temperature. She grabbed a smallcloth and stepped into the empty tub. She wet the cloth in the bucket and applied one of her cleansing oils. Then she upended the first bucket over her head, instantly soaking herself. She rubbed the cloth over herself, then heated the water in the second bucket. This time she carefully poured the water over herself, making sure to wash away all the oil. She stepped out of the tub, grabbed a towel, and scrubbed herself dry. Without the time to let her hair dry naturally, she used magic to remove the moisture.

Elise had left the room, but the clothes Rhysa had requested lay on the bed, and the pendant on the vanity. Rhysa pulled on some undergarments, and then the gown and soft boots. Then she went to the vanity, brushed her hair, decided to leave it loose, and placed the ruby pendant around her neck.

When Rhysa walked out of her bedroom, Elise smiled. “Very nice, Rhys.”

Rhysa smiled back. “Thank you. Ready?”

The room they dined in was similar, but slightly smaller, to the one in which the Royals had entertained House Kasteryn. Jagun wore a fitted high-necked coat, the black of the material deep enough to fall into; Rhysa could see the gussets under the arms that would allow freedom of movement. He wore trousers of the same material and soft boots dyed to the same shade of black. He’d changed scabbards so that his sword hung at his side in a black, tooled leather sheathe. His whole outfit had been trimmed with just enough gold to provide accent rather than decoration. The ensemble gave Jagun an even more remote appearance than usual, and heightened the effect of his ice-blue eyes.

Hallyk seemed a perfect contrast. The prince had chosen light colors: saffrons and golds. He wore a long-sleeved tunic with epaulets, trousers decorated with designs stitched in gold. Against this background, his clothes also had a deep scarlet trim.

There was one more person present. Hallyk introduced her as Admiral Aryth Poseidor. The admiral was obviously in dress uniform. The coat resembled Jagun’s in cut, but the colors were a midnight blue. She had gold braid on her shoulders to indicate rank, and a red sash provided a background to her many ribbons and medals. The trousers were the same midnight blue, though her boots were a shiny black.

Rhysa shook hands with the admiral and found her grip strong, but not testing. Close up, Admiral Poseidor’s few grey hairs showed clearly. There was a look in her eye that reminded her of Jagun. Not harsh, but fierce and highly disciplined.

“Pleasure to meet you.” The admiral’s voice was strong; Rhysa didn’t think she had to raise her voice much to be heard through a storm. Despite the strength, there was a pleasant softness to it--silk over a rounded metal gatepost.

“The admiral has just returned from a patrol of our territorial waters,” said Hallyk.

“Indeed?”

Hallyk smiled. “Shall we sit? Dinner will be ready very soon, and I see they’ve already set out the palliatives.”

Once more, Rhysa found herself seated across from Jagun. Elise sat on Rhysa’s left with the admiral across from her. On her right, at the head of the table, sat Hallyk. The palliative course was a small, mint-based salat drizzled with some kind of oil. The service timing was excellent: just as they finished the salat, a covey of servants came in to clear the dishes, followed by another who were carrying small bowls of a light soup.

Conversation was pleasant, and Rhysa quickly discovered she liked Admiral Poseidor’s dry wit. The admiral, it turned out, had also been a slave at the beginning of her career. She’d won her freedom when, through force of will and personality, she’d taken control of a ship whose officers and mage had been killed by a raider. She managed to slow the raider down by finding and killing the enemy mage. Without magical backing, the raiders were no match for naval discipline. The raiders were repelled and Aryth’s ship limped to the nearest Royal port.

Rhysa discovered she no longer felt intimidated by Jagun’s regular expression. She was even relaxed enough to smile at him whenever he spoke, which he still did only rarely. By the time they’d finished eating, she could meet his eyes steadily.

When servants came to clear the table of the dessert dishes, they adjourned to Hallyk’s sitting room. Rhysa hid a smile as she and Hallyk selected the same chairs they’d chosen the night he revealed his dragon form to her.

When the conversation lulled, Hallyk spoke up. “One of the reasons I wanted you two to meet,” he glanced at Rhysa and Aryth, “was that you each have some critical information. Rather than passing on the information through me, I’d rather you two spoke directly.” He looked at Rhysa. “You’re looking for information on a certain emblem, aren’t you?” At her nod, he said, “Aryth has given me a description of that symbol. She saw it a few years ago when she was on an ambassadorial assignment.”

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