at his shoulder said, ‘Yes, but she’s as tough as any Knight-Adamant in the Order. If Mathias were still sound, or Kendall still alive, I’d say either of them would do, but right now she’s the best mix of skill, strength, and determination you have.’
Creegan turned to face his companion, a man he had known for most of his life, though only well over the last three years. He was dressed in the garb of a commoner, and a rather dirty one at that, his hair was scruffy and his chin beard surrounded by days of stubble. Even his fingernails were dirty, but the Father-Bishop of the Order of the Shield of the Weak knew that this was but one of several guises employed by James Dasher Jamison.
‘Are you acting on behalf of the Crown?’
‘In a manner,’ said the most dangerous man in the Kingdom from Creegan’s point of view. Not only was he the grandson of the most important Duke in the Kingdom of the Isles, he was also reputed to be the mastermind behind the Kingdom’s intelligence services, and even, according to some, in control of the criminal brotherhood known as the Mockers.
Jim Dasher looked out of the window for a moment longer, then said, ‘An impossibly beautiful woman, that one.’
‘As dangerous as she is lovely,’ said Creegan.
Jim Dasher looked the cleric and said, ‘You two … ?’
‘No,’ said the prelate. ‘Not that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind upon occasion.’ He waved his guest to a small table with two chairs. ‘If I have one flaw, it’s my love of beautiful women.’ The room was not utilized for any specific reason, but Creegan had long ago claimed it for his clandestine meetings and other moments when he felt the need to be away from the High-Priestess’s army, or when he wanted a few undisturbed minutes to think.
‘I knew her,’ said Jim, ‘when she was a whore.’
‘You?’ asked Creegan.
Jim Dasher laughed, a single bark of embarrassment. ‘No. Not that way. I may not be first among those she would wish dead, but I am high on that list, no doubt.’
‘Really?’
Dasher nodded. ‘I sold her to the Keshian trader.’
Creegan let out a long sigh, and shook his head. ‘The things we do in the name of the greater good.’ Then he asked, ‘But it was you who arranged for Brother Mathias to intercede and rescue her from the Keshian, wasn’t it?’
‘I wish I could claim that were so,’ said Jim. He looked out the window again, this time into the distance and said, ‘My plan was for her to endure the company of that fat monster for a month, then I would have made contact with her and turn her to my purpose; I was going to promise her safe passage back to the Kingdom from Shamata and enough wealth to start a new life if she provided me with certain documents that were in the merchant’s possession.’
‘I never knew that,’ said Creegan. ‘I always thought it was all some elaborate plot to rid yourself of a Keshian spy and that Mathias just happened to recognize the girl’s quality.’
Jim barked out another laugh. ‘Zacanos Martias was as much a Keshian spy as you are. What he was, however, was a choking point for certain .…’ He paused. ‘Let’s just say that since his demise it’s been a lot easier for me to get certain things in and out of Kesh. I now deal directly with those whom Zacanos previously distanced me from.’ He drummed his fingers on the chair arm. ‘Still, I wish I had been able to get those documents from him. By the time my people got to his home in Shamata someone else had already been through his effects, leaving nothing of importance.’
‘Who, I wonder?’ asked the Father-Bishop.
‘The Imperial Keshian Intelligence Service,’ said Dasher. ‘Which, of course, doesn’t exist.’
‘What?’
Jim waved his hand. ‘Old family joke.’ He sighed. ‘As long as the Emperor is smart enough to leave his spies in the control of Ali Shek Azir Hazara-Khan, I have my work cut out for me.’ He sat forward, as if in discomfort. ‘That family has been responsible for more trouble between our two nations than any other single group of people.’
‘Why not simply have them removed?’ asked Creegan.
‘Well, to begin with it would constitute an act of war, and we need an excuse to bloody our noses against Kesh’s Dog Soldiers like a house fire needs a barrel of pitch. Secondly, it’s not how things are done in the espionage game; death is the last choice in all circumstances. And lastly, I really like Ali. He’s very funny with some wonderful tales, and he’s a very good gambler.’
‘Your world is one I can barely understand,’ admitted the prelate.
‘As is yours to me, Father, but sometimes the greater good demands that we trust one another.’
‘Obviously, or else you wouldn’t be here.’ The Father-Bishop stood. ‘I need to return to my office.’ As he walked his guest to the door he said, ‘If you didn’t engineer that encounter between Brother Mathias and the Keshian merchant, who did?’
‘You’d have to ask Sandreena what she recalls; if there was another player in the game, I have no idea who it might be.’
‘Perhaps it was simply the Goddess’s plan,’ said Creegan and Jim saw he was not being facetious.
Jim said, ‘I’ve seen too much in my life to believe anything involving the gods to be out of the question.’
Jim Dasher glanced out of the door and said, ‘I’ll try to be as inconspicuous on my way out as I was coming in.’
‘Then goodbye,’ said the Father-Bishop as Jim Dasher hurried down the short hallway that led to the southernmost stairs. Creegan knew there was a good chance, despite the busy Temple throng, that the agent of the Crown would manage to get cleanly away with no one noticing the scruffy looking commoner.
He sighed; things were becoming far too complex and he worried that the enormity of their undertaking was going to prove too much, even for the combined resources of the Crown and the Temple. He put aside the thought as best he could; there was no point in wasting time and energy on matters beyond his control. Better to trust the Goddess and move on to the day’s needs.
Creegan followed Jim Dasher down the stairs and as he had suspected, saw no sign of the man in the massive, open courtyard when he reached the door.
THE AIR SHIMMERED.
A light breeze blew across the valley as heat waves rose from the warmed rocks on the hillside and larks flew overhead. The afternoon sun chased away the night’s chill and bathed the grasses in a warm blanket as spring arrived in Novindus. A fox sunning herself raised her head in concern, for she smelled something unusual. Springing to her feet she turned her head left and right seeking the source. Curiosity soon gave way to caution and the vixen darted off, bounding into the shadowed woods.
The
