by Guy Antibes
The turmoil Panix had felt when he learned of the nature of his father’s demise and when Sovell Mortac admitted to an affair with Polla, opened the sores of his emotions. The distractions of Quill and the trip to his cabin had helped to work some of those frustrations out of his system, as well.
He realized that with all of his problems, he wasn’t as dysfunctional as Quill and although he knew he wouldn’t forget or readily forgive himself, he felt his issues with Merra had the promise of being put into some kind of perspective. Perhaps he only needed a week or two off, after all.
Aparchment envelope appeared in his pocket. That was quick, he thought as he unsealed the message. Any thoughts of returning to work early were dashed as he read about his assignment. Corilla Westter instructed him to report to the Marquessa’s chambers in three days time at midday. The woman didn’t mention Quill at all in the short missive.
~~~~
Panix the Spy
Book Three
Chapter 11
The air and the sky felt heavy as Merra walked away from her window not wanting the weather to depress her. She sat and looked at Baston Blox, who poured himself a drink.
“What happened to that spy?” she said.
“Those stupid Murgontians,” Baston said. “His references at Baltac’s weren’t in order. They should have let me take care of it. Instead they had someone’s son up here for a week messing about, filling his background with holes. I’m surprised he lasted at Baltac’s for the brief time he did.”
“So he fled back to Murgontia?”
“State secret, my dear.” Baston smiled as he approached his mistress. Merra opened her arms for him after a sip of his wine.
“Whose state?” she said feeling coy. As she responded to her lover’s advances, she wondered which state was she a member of? Pent? Murgontia with her complicity to the whole spy matter? Wallia, where she grew up? Korvanna? Definitely not Korvanna. She shivered as the word ‘Morven’ flashed in her head followed by a brief picture of Panix. Panix Gavid had now become a faint unwanted memory.
“Let’s go upstairs.” Baston gave her one of those smiles that pierced her heart.
“You’ll tell me a state secret? It doesn’t matter what state as long you’re in it.” She kissed Baston on the cheek and ran off up the stairs. Merra reveled in living for the moment.
~
Lorna walked around the Marquessa’s gardens pulling blooms off of the flowers, smelling them and then throwing them to the ground, still upset at her father, but she tried to push that out of her mind. The Marquessa had requested an audience and Lorna wiped her hands and hurried towards her meeting.
“Lorna?” The Marquessa walked up with a couple of aides. “Walk with me.” Lorna curtseyed as well as she could in her long suede skirt.
The Marquessa swished her silk dress along with voluminous petticoats. Lorna contrasted her straight chin-length hair with the Marquessa’s coif, piled on her head in precise curls held with golden ornaments.
“Your father told me about your argument. You must understand that the successor to his business must be able to inspect the metal. Your father has some magical talent, but you do not. It has nothing to do with his magician.”
Her father had blurted out the details of their argument to the Marquessa. She clenched her fists and realized that her differences with her father had lasted for years. The Marquessa undoubtedly knew all about it even before her last argument.
“I want you to come to work for me. I need a strong woman to help me monitor Baston Blox. I fear his voice is not his own and I sense we are headed for troubled times and I’m not certain Baston is up to it.”
She well knew of her father’s dissatisfaction with Baston Blox. Her father may have secured this appointment for her, but she still felt the Marquessa flattered her with the offer. “Your grace,” she said and nodded.
“Foald asked if I might have something suitable in my bureaucracy for a person who wants to be useful. I want you to see him tomorrow and get settled in as an aide.”
Lorna walked back to her home in a different mood that when she left it. Her father had actually listened part of their discussion anyway. Although the Marquessa did her father a favor, Lorna now had a chance to prove herself. An opportunity presented itself and she’d take advantage of it.
~
She showed up at the appointed hour at the Foreign Ministry located on the ground floor of the east wing of the palace dressed in a light blue linen skirt with a darker blue jacket. She knocked on Baston Blox’s office door and a servant in livery let her in.
“Come in, Miss Baltac. Take a seat. We have some things to discuss,” Blox said. Lorna wasn’t very encouraged by Lord Baston’s dismissive tone of voice and his body language. He sat erect, folding his arms. In front of him sat a sheaf of blank parchment with a quill perfectly aligned along the top edge, in fact every item on his desk lined up with something or other. She didn’t come close to this kind of obsessive neatness and felt Blox’s show of order intimidating.
“Yes?” she answered as she sat on the edge of the proffered side chair.
“You are your father’s spy, no?”
“No,” Lorna said. “I am here at the specific request of the Marquessa.” This was not starting out well. “My services are for your benefit and Pent’s.”
“Make sure you keep all things secret until you are told to reveal them to the Marquessa. When you work for me you will learn many things that will just confuse Her Grace and we don’t want that, do we?”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
Lord Baston just sat there and looked at her. “I think that’s enough for today. Report to Pronat Nox tomorrow at nine o’clock sharp for orientation. That is all.” Baston rose and extended his hand. Lorna shook it like a man and bowed.
She left his office with a sense of defeat. Her feelings about Baston Blox weren’t very complicated. She didn’t trust the man. Her father and the Marquessa were right in thinking all was not well with Lord Baston Blox. Her great challenge would come from restraining herself from messing up the perfection of his desk. No one could work very hard on such a precisely arranged surface.
~
The postal carriage ambled along the dirt track through the South Pent woods. It slowed to a stop in front of two tree trunks lying across the road. Passengers filled the carriage, seated inside and on the roof. A floater towed behind, carrying luggage and packages for the post.
“Throw off the reins,” called a voice from within the surrounding woods. The driver just sat there.
An arrow hissed from the forest, sinking into the driver’s thigh. The driver dropped the reins, clutching his leg and ten men converged on the carriage from all sides.
“Out,” Sovad said, opening the door to the coach. A sword was thrust out towards Sovad, slicing into his jacket. A bandit on the other side of the door dispassionately ran Sovad’s attacker through. “I said out or another will be killed.” Sovad’s voice held no expression, but he had told his men not to kill. You didn’t capture the minds or hearts of anyone when they were dead and the minions looked on you in fear, well perhaps a bit of fear. He clamped his lips shut. The men groaned and the two women screamed.
The passengers and one of the drivers lined up in front of the carriage. The men were stoic, but the women sobbed. Sovad’s men unloaded the floater and began to go through the carriage, pulling up seats and ripping out the fabric padding on the inside. They piled loot on the floater. They left what they didn’t value in heaps alongside the luggage.
“Valuable baubles will be placed in my hat. Failure to do so will cost you your life. We do all this for the greater good of all citizens of South Pent. Consider this a tiny tax to fund a new government of the people,” Sovad said as he walked past the line, his hat filling with bracelets, rings, watches, purses and loose coins.
“Now you will all strip to your underclothes, even the women.” The women wailed, but Sovad only grinned as the ba
ndits gathered all of the men’s wear, tossing it in the carriage, leaving the women’s clothing where it lay. He nodded to his men. The horses were unhitched from the carriage and the floater attached to their harness and then one of his men jumped up on the lead horse and left with the booty.
Sovad lit a torch tied to his side and threw it in the carriage. Once the carriage caught fire, he bowed to his victims and the marauders disappeared into the forest as the women ran to their clothing.
~
Just after nightfall in the little town of Sowood, eight men pulled their horses up in front of the town’s only tavern. It was the last day of the week and the men and women in the drinking establishment had been paid for their labors.
Sovad walked in with his sword drawn and yelled, “Men on the right, ladies on the left. We are the vanguard of a new movement to free South Pent from the dictates of Pent City. Your contributions fund our cause and we thank you for your cooperation.”
As the men gauged the odds of attacking armed thieves, another eight men burst open the back door and rushed into the room with wo carrying a large washtub. This worked even better than the carriage. Sovad wouldn’t have to harm any of his victims and he really did hate to kill indiscriminately.
“Start with the men,” Sovad said. The men tossed a few coins into the tub. He walked up to one of the men and poked his sword in the man’s stomach. “Off with your pants.” He prodded the man again. Sovad picked up the pants and found the man’s pay packet. After putting it in the tub, Sovad slid his sword along the man’s neck, drawing a thin line of blood, but not pressing hard enough to do real damage. Pants were quickly pulled off as Sovad’s men collected the pay packets. A little blood judiciously drawn went further than the shock of a death.
When the bandits were through with the men, the women had already removed anything they possessed of value and threw it in the tub. “I again thank you for your cooperation. These are contributions for the new State of South Pent. All men will be free to serve the greater good. We are going to make regular visits. Good night.” Sovad stole a kiss from one of the women and bowed to the room, just before he ran out.
This wasn’t going to work. He couldn’t hold up all of the taverns in the region with less than twenty men. The army wouldn’t retreat from guarding the passes doing this. But he’d do his best to try, but Sovad didn’t like having to direct a band of mangy dogs. He’d rather work alone, but disrupting this placid area would take a long time, even with a band of ‘insurgents’.
What possessed Uved to create this scheme.? They would have to invade all kinds of places and that meant a lot of riding. His rear end already ached from so much travel on horseback. All for the greater good of Murgontia.
~~~
Chapter 12
Panix hustled up the steps of the Palace of Pent, an imposing edifice. The building had a front made from cast iron rather than stone. Magicians had to have spent months creating special iron and bonding it with green paint so it wouldn’t rust. A local grayish-blue stone comprised the remainder of the building materials. He stepped into the palace to find an aide waiting to lead him to the Marquessa.
“If you will come this way, Master Gavid.” She turned and walked up the open stairway to the second floor.
Panix had never accepted an invitation to the palace after his wife left and divorced him. He looked around, as he ascended the stairs, thinking back to the night Merra first met Baston Blox. He clenched his fist and assured himself that was all in the past. He stopped by a pair of gilded double doors.
“These are the Marquessa’s chambers. Stay here until you are summoned.” The aide walked in.
Panix stood cooling his heels for half an hour. When he was about to knock on the door, Lorna Baltac walked up.
“And what are you doing here?” she said. The look on her face indicated that her attitude towards him hadn’t changed, frosty as ever. Lorna never brighted up in his presence. He felt like shaking his head, but restrained making their meeting awkward.
“I’ve been summoned to see the Marquessa.” His reply broke the silence.
Lorna made an unpleasant face and walked across the wide hallway to the railing, looking down into the corridor below. The door opened. The aide beckoned both of them in for the audience.
The Marquessa Ronna put out her hand to Panix first. Panix took the Marquessa’s hand in his and kissed it making a little bow. Lorna curtseyed with the hint of a scowl on her face. The Marquessa led the pair to a seating alcove and asked them to sit. They stood, however, until the ruler of Pent seated herself.
The ceiling extended up two stories. The chairs and the Marquessa’s settee were made of a light colored wood. Light blue brocade decorated the chairs, enhancing the Marquessa’s auburn hair and blue eyes. The suite sat on a patterned rug, custom-woven to fit the alcove.
“As you might be aware, our southern border has been victimized by men claiming to be insurgents terrorizing our towns, farms and roads in the name of some fictitious State of South Pent. My subjects have been killed and brutalized in a most unseemly manner. It appears their leader, who is described as short, blond and glib, enjoys seeing our people in various stages of undress.” The Marquessa waved away the unpleasant thoughts. “It is all unacceptable.”
It appeared the unpleasantness Quill had talked about evolved into a serious breakdown in law and order.
“My military commander in South Pent, General Lettec, is doing what he can, but he is not equipped to deal with guerilla warfare and banditry. His purpose is to protect our border passes from Murgontian invasion. I’ve asked him not to intervene except to assign small patrols to accompany the local law enforcement, which is entirely overwhelmed.
“Imagine, men who are trained to handle town drunks and unruly teenagers being called upon to quell marauding gangs.”
“I need another set of eyes and ears—an objective set, or two. I’ve been in contact with our interface with Korvanna, Torlan Westter, the Gerellian ambassador. I rely on Ambassador Westter for objective views from time to time and he suggested that you, Master Gavid, accompany one of my people to look into this mess.”
Panix looked at Lorna, who ignored him and looked straight ahead at the Marquessa. “Master Gavid, I am aware of your sabbatical from Foald’s company and your recent acceptance of working with the Korvannan Intelligence Institute. You come highly recommended by the KII.” Lorna swiveled her head to peer at Panix. The Marquessa paused and looked at both of them. “I’m just interested in your observations. Since you haven’t been to South Pent, I’ve decided to assign Miss Baltac as your guide. Lorna grew up on Foald’s estates and knows South Pent as well as anybody. Foald said you both can use the Baltac cottage that is central in the area as a base.”
“But I just started my new job,” Lorna said. Panix could feel a touch of disappointment in her voice.
“Never fear, Lorna. You job is quite secure.” The Marquessa smiled and turned to Panix. “When can the both of you depart?”
“I can leave tomorrow, your grace,” Panix said. “If it’s convenient for Miss Baltac.”
“It is,” Lorna snapped.
What an interesting development. Lorna seemed to be unhappy with the event, the way she rushed out from the audience. He respected Lorna’s determination, but something must have happened to her quest to run the metalworks. He’d undoubtedly find out on their trip.
~
Clouds continued to threaten rain as the warmth of the last few days disappeared with the dawn of a dreary day. More rain added to the constant showers ever since winter turned to spring. Panix showed up with his horse and a packhorse hitched to a floater.
Lorna rode out from the stable gate, next to Foald Baltac’s house with her own packhorse towing a floater. Panix blinked. She hadn’t asked or told him she’d bring so much. Typical. Lorna represented a challenge in keeping an even temper. She didn’t look at him, as she rode past in angry silence. He tried to think positively and a smile came to
his lips—at least they wouldn’t starve.
The threat of rain materialized into a misty drizzle that muffled the sights and sounds of the countryside. Panix hadn’t really ever been south of the city. South Pent didn’t lead to anywhere but the Southern Range that encircled the bottom half of the country. The only two ways in and out of country were to the west and to the east, towards Bentonnia. The Pent military had cut off all travel through the two passes south to Murgontia for decades.
He wondered why this insurrection started in South Pent? It would seem more appropriate for it to happen in the richer east or western parts of the country.
“How far to your father’s estates?” This was the first comment either had made since they started out.
“We have a small cottage on a lake that is central to the south. I’ve been there many times. It will be ideal for us.”
“Great, how far is it?” Panix tried to put a bit of eagerness into his voice.
“It’s about fifty leagues. There is an inn, where we can spend tonight. But we will have to camp tomorrow night. Do you know how to camp?”
Panix could tell condescension when he heard it. He just nodded and tried as much as he could to keep from smiling and shaking his head. He hoped Lorna could rid herself of whatever demons made her so irritable. If she continued to behave this way, his patience would certainly be exercised.
~
The inn looked solid, with large river rocks making up the walls. The main building sported a slate roof, with two outer wings covered with thatch. Horses, carts and even a few floaters filled the walled grounds.
Since the pair intended to spend the night, a stable boy came around to take their animals. Darkness had fallen just as they walked in to raucous singing. Panix had a hard time hearing the innkeeper answering Lorna’s questions, so he just turned around and absorbed the good-natured feel of the place. The atmosphere reminded him of the Summer’s Wilt.
