The Agent

by Brock E. Deskins

  “Interesting. I heard that you had taken up a monastic life, but I did not know if it was purely for academic purposes or if you had actually joined the priesthood.”

  “I have become a monk, sort of a mixing of the two.”

  “How does that weigh on your succession?”

  “I cannot wear the crown or hold political office.” Adam fought back a wave of grief. “With Marcus gone, my sister would sit as regent until she married or her firstborn son comes of age.”

  Anton bowed his head and nodded sympathetically. “Well, I for one am grateful for your father’s road, Adam. It has created an uninterrupted trade route between us and Leva, and from there, most of the realm.”

  “It will be even greater when it functions as my father desired,” Adam said.

  “Perhaps, but I am getting dangerously close to breaking my own rules about mixing business before dinner.”

  Anton waved, and a stream of servants entered the dining room bearing trays with metal domes covering plates of food. There was no more discussion about the road or The Guild as they ate. Adam fought his impatience through six courses. By the time the servants began clearing away the dessert plates, he was near to bursting, both from the pressure in his stomach as well as his eagerness to get to the purpose of their meeting.

  “Highness,” Adam said as the servants cleared away the last of the dishes, “I appreciate your gracious hospitality, but I would really like to talk to you about why I came here.”

  Anton motioned for the servants to leave the room. “Of course. You have been very patient, and I appreciate you indulging me for so long. What is it you need from me?”

  “I need your help to remove Gordon from the throne and bring down The Guild.”

  “As much as I appreciate your courage, and even envy it, I fail to see what I could do. We are a small nation, and by the standards of Anatolia and the other kingdoms, rather poor. Siding with you against The Guild, who has only grown stronger since your father’s demise, would be suicidal.”

  “I am not asking for military support, and whatever financial support you can offer would be confidential, just as your contributions to the trade road were. You said yourself that you have profited from it. Imagine the rewards when The Guild is not syphoning nearly half of those profits away through tolls, taxes, and Guild fees. Your non-Guild merchants could trade across borders as well, bringing in even more revenue.”

  Anton nodded thoughtfully. “What you say is true. A truly free trade road would be vastly superior to the exclusivity of The Guild’s control, but my investment in its construction was also supposed to be confidential, yet here you are with knowledge of my involvement. One thing I have learned as King is that there are few if any secrets in this world. The Guild can outspend me ten times over. Without a powerful military force, I fail to see how my further investment in your family would be of any help.”

  “We have a strong army willing to fight, but wars need money. We are not without a plan to wrest control of the throne. You trusted in my father enough to support his dream despite knowing the very same risks that make you apprehensive now.”

  Garran tried to kick Adam from under the table but only managed to slide out of his chair and fall to the floor where he remained, unmoving. Adam glared at the tabletop and shook his head in disgust.

  “His dream turned into a nightmare for him and many others,” Anton countered with nothing more than a glance toward Garran’s unconscious body. “You will need far more than a few patriotic rabble-rousers to contend not just with Anatolia’s military, but the thousands of mercenaries at The Guild’s beck and call.”

  “We have that!” Adam insisted. “And we will get more in time, but I need the support of others, others like you who have already shown that they do not want a world ruled by The Guild.”

  Anton stroked his chin and nodded. “I need reassurance beyond your promises. I do not doubt your sincerity, but if I knew more of who is likely to support you, this army you claim to have, and how you plan to gather more soldiers to your cause, perhaps it will be sufficient to make me reevaluate the risks to my kingdom.”

  Adam ground the heels of his palms into his eyes. Eating so much food had made him sleepy, and he fought to clear the fog from his head. He needed Garran’s help to convince Anton just as he had done with the Hillmen. He felt Garran’s body beneath the table and kicked him, but he did not stir.

  Damn him! Adam silently cursed. “Do you think The Guild will leave you alone, that your mountainous borders will protect you once they turn their greedy eyes toward your kingdom? They are going to swallow us all one bite, one kingdom, at a time. The only way we can stop this from happening is to join together until we are too big to swallow and make them choke if they try.”

  “Again, you make a convincing argument, but as I said before, my country is small. We are but an appetizer. Tell me more about who else is or will be supporting you.”

  Adam was loath to say anything more than he had to, but he needed this man’s help. “Anton, I can’t…”

  He studied the King’s face, noticing that the affable smile was gone, replaced by a stern, calculating visage. Adam kicked Garran again, harder this time.

  “Garran, get up!”

  Anton sighed and made a beckoning motion in the air. A dozen soldiers entered the room and converged around the table. “I am afraid that Agent Holt will be incapacitated for several more hours.”

  The King motioned toward Garran. Two of the soldiers sheathed their weapons and carried him between them. The others closed in around Adam and shoved him toward the door.

  “You are making a mistake, Anton!” Adam shouted. “You are not just giving us over to The Guild; you are surrendering your entire kingdom!”

  “I am doing what I must to retain control, even if only nominally. There are certain inevitabilities in life, and The Guild is one of them. We are all guilty of feeding the monster until it grew too big to contain, and now we have become its servants.”

  “We can change that!”

  “I wish it were true, Adam. I truly do, but that is a fantasy. It was a fantasy when Remiel concocted the plan, and it is even more so now.”

  “Then why did you support him?”

  Anton shrugged. “I was hedging my bets. Either way, I got my road, and my people prospered from it. Some of them anyway.”

  “You will regret this, Anton,” Adam promised. “When my sister gains control and we destroy The Guild, I will remember those who had the courage to aid us, and I will especially recall those who opposed us.”

  “I am not a gambling man, but I know that only a fool plays the long odds and prays for a miracle.”

  The soldiers ushered Adam and carried Garran through several corridors and down into the bowels of the castle where a few cells were built to imprison special prisoners. Garran’s eyes opened and his head rolled loosely on his shoulders. He grabbed at the bars of one of the empty cells. He moaned a complaint when his handlers pulled his away and dropped him into the adjacent cell along with Adam.

  Anton glanced at Garran who was moaning and struggling to sit up. “He certainly has an amazing tolerance. He consumed enough of the drug to put a horse into a coma for a week. It is of no consequence. Neither of you will be here for long.”

  The gaoler closed and locked the door. Adam lunged at the cell door and gripped the bars.

  “Anton, it is not too late to do the right thing!”

  Anton looked over his shoulder. “Perhaps, but I have committed to doing the smart thing. Goodbye, Adam.”

  Adam shouted incoherently at the departing king and his soldiers. He heard Garran moan, turned, and helped him sit up.

  Garran pressed a hand to his head. “What happened?”

  “Anton drugged you.”

  “Really? That prick! You got any more?”

  “No,” Adam replied in exasperation.

  “That prick!” With Adam’s help, he struggled to his feet, stumbled toward the door, an
d shouted between the bars. “Hey, fatso with the key, come here! I know you can hear me.”

  A nearby door opened with a groan, and the jailer’s face appeared on the other side of the bars. “Do I know you?”

  “I have a familiar face.”

  “If that’s true, I’m glad I’m just fat. If I had your face, I’d kill myself. What do you want?”

  “I want in the other cell, the one next to this one.”

  “Why do you care what cell you’re in?”

  “The other one has a window. This man is royalty, and he deserves to be locked in the best cell.”

  “You ain’t staying long, and I ain’t opening this door for any reason until the King tells me to.”

  “You are violating the treaty governing royal prisoners, signed by Anton and the rest of the ruling monarchs. I demand you move us to the other cell this instant!”

  “I don’t know what your game is, but you and your prince are staying put. The damn thing is too narrow for you to crawl through anyway, so just sit still and be quiet, and don’t call me fatso!”

  “Wait!” Garran said as the man turned to leave.

  He turned back with a sigh. “What?”

  “You’re something of a man of the law; at least you’re familiar with criminals.”

  “What of it?”

  “Let’s say a man and a woman are both really drunk, and maybe under the influence of some pretty powerful drugs, and someone passes out during sex. Now, when they both wake up, neither really knows who passed out first.”

  “It’s rape.”

  “Hold on, I don’t think you understand the particulars of the situation.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure I get it.”

  “Bah, why am asking you? You’re nothing but a fat monkey with keys.” Garran snapped.

  The jailer looked toward another cell. “Hey, Phil, you hear all that?”

  “It’s rape!” a voice called out.

  “Phil says it’s rape too.”

  “Who the hell is Phil?”

  “A rapist.”

  “Garran, let it go for God’s sake,” Adam said.

  “This is important. I will not let it go. Hey, get back here!” Garran shouted at the man’s back as he walked away. “You better switch our cells, or I’ll make you regret it!” The outer door creaked once more and slammed shut. “Damn it!” Garran spun and found Adam glaring hatefully at him. “What?”

  “This is your fault.”

  “How is this my fault?”

  “Maybe if you hadn’t spent the entire day getting drunk, and probably fornicating, you would have noticed the drug in the wine and stopped drinking before it completely debilitated you! Maybe if you weren’t still drunk and drugged, you would put your mind to better use than complaining about what damn cell we are in and figure out how to get us out of here!”

  “Maybe that is exactly what I am doing, Mr. blamey blame!”

  “Why the hell does it matter what cell we are in and how is switching rooms going to get us out?”

  Garran took an unsteady step forward and put his face within inches of Adam’s. “In addition to my drinking, the only fornicating, for lack of a better word, I did today was with that fat bastard out there. And by fornicating, I mean throwing dice with him while I took an impression of his cell key, made a copy, and dropped it through that little window in the other cell where we should have been locked up!”

  “You knew we were going to get thrown in jail but still went ahead with the meeting?”

  “I always assume I’m going to end up in jail at some point. Getting a key is the first thing I do on a mission.”

  Adam stared at Garran a moment. “That is actually kind of brilliant.”

  “Right? I’m not the greatest agent in the kingdom for nothing.”

  “It is brilliant up until the point where we got locked in the wrong cell. There is like six rooms down here. Why would you think we would get put in the one with the key?”

  “Because of the three that aren’t occupied, that was the only one with a window, and the requirements set forth by the treatment of royal prisoners treaty explicitly states a cell with certain amenities, one being a goddam window.”

  “So…now we’re screwed.”

  “No, I just need to think.”

  “So…we’re screwed.”

  “Very funny.” Garran sat on the stone slab that served as a bed and rubbed his temples. “I got it!”

  “A way out?”

  “No, a better word for fornicating. There is nothing like a little cloistering with the threat of impending doom to stimulate the old vocabulary.”

  “Not at all helpful.”

  “Just give it a minute, it will come.” Garran continued to massage his temples with his fingertips. “Aha!”

  “Now you have a plan?”

  “No, another word for fornicating.”

  “We are so screwed.”

  “That one doesn’t count, you already used it.” Garran stabbed a finger into the air. “Aha!”

  “Don’t tell me, a third word for fornicate?”

  “Fornicate? No, I have an idea to get out of here. Maybe we could speed this along if you got your mind out of the gutter and thought about something other than your sexual repression. Besides, it would have been a fourth word, not the third.

  Adam shook his head. “What?”

  “I came up with two, and then you said a third one. Really, if you are going to play the game, then learn to keep score.”

  “Do you have a plan or not?” Adam screeched.

  “Of course I do. I always have a plan. I think I mentioned that before. You have a terrible memory for someone who is always sober.”

  Adam clenched and unclenched his fists several times. “What is your plan?”

  “Do you remember what Gordon did with that goat?”

  “I remember what you did with that goat. It is a thing of my nightmares whenever I close my eyes.”

  “That sounds more like a you problem than anything I did.”

  Adam shook his head. “No, no I’m pretty sure it is entirely you.”

  “Anyway, your deep sexual repressions aside, you are god-touched. You can do what he did, only with a rat.”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t”

  “Take your pick.”

  “If we don’t get out of here, someone from The Guild is going to come and take you away, and this entire thing falls apart. Now, can you do it?”

  “It goes against every vow I have taken and every law regarding the use of magic in the kingdom.”

  “Screw your vows and screw the law. This is about something bigger than both of them. Do you know how to do it?”

  Adam nodded. “In theory. I can probably figure it out.”

  “Good. All we need to do is lure a rat in here, and then you can do whatever it is you need to do.”

  “Sure, screw our laws, screw my vows, and screw my eternal soul,” Adam muttered. “At least you won’t be able to screw the rat.”

  CHAPTER 20

  “Sire, Agent Law is here,” the seneschal announced.

  Anton’s eyes traveled toward the door and stood. “Already? Very well, show him in.”

  Brennan opened the door wider, and Victor strode into the room. His clothes and face showed his road weariness, but his eyes were alert, his posture intense.

  “Agent Law, I was not expecting you for at least another day or two. You very nearly beat the courier here.”

  “I tried, but even I cannot overcome their logistical advantage,” Victor replied. “Do you have them?”

  “Yes, I locked them both up not more than two hours ago.”

  “Holt wasn’t a problem?”

  “Not in the slightest. He drank the wine I drugged like a man breaths air. He was regaining consciousness, but I doubt he will be lucid for hours yet to come.”

  Victor grunted. “I wouldn’t count on it. You should have killed him the moment he passed out
.”

  “Your missive did not clearly state that you wanted him dead, and I did not want to risk overstepping my bounds with an action that cannot be reversed. If you like, I will bring two of my guards with us, and they can shoot him through the bars in the door.”

  Victor thought a moment and nodded. “I would rather kill him in a fight, but I’m in a hurry, and he’s a slippery little turd. Best just to get it done with. It’s going to be a much longer ride back to Leva.”

  Anton led the way out of the room and motioned for two soldiers with crossbows to accompany them.

  ***

  “All right, so how do we get a rat to come in?” Garran asked. “I would rather not just wait for one to wander by. I don’t know if we have that kind of time.”

  “I could make an odor in the room,” Adam offered.

  “So can I, but I figured that given the tight confines and poor ventilation it would be rude, and I didn’t want to listen your complaining.”

  “Not that kind of odor, you idiot. A smell to attract them, like food.”

  “Oh, yeah, I can’t do that. I might bring in some flies, but that’s probably about it.”

  Adam sighed and shook his head.

  “What? I’m still woozy from being drugged. Give me a break.”

  Adam ignored him, closed his eyes, and began softly muttering. Within seconds, the smell of sharp cheese wafted through the air. He directed the scent through the slot cut into the bottom of the door and out into the corridor.

  “I was wrong,” Garran said. “I could have made a smell very close to that.”

  “Shut up, I need to concentrate.”

  “Amateur. I can make that smell in my sleep.”

  “That is something for which I am far too familiar. Now, shut up.”

  Garran stood in the corner closest to the door, gripping the waste bucket and waiting to clobber any unfortunate creature that scurried in looking for food. Minutes passed and Garran began to doubt his plan. It would be just his luck that Anton had the only rat-free dungeon on the world.

  He was just about to skip to the second part of his plan when a large black rat poked its head under the door. It cautiously entered the room, sticking its nose into the air and sniffing. Garran slowly reeled back his arm and let the bucket fly. It struck the rat full on, flipping it onto its side where it squealed and writhed on the floor.