by Guy Antibes
~
General Crissor sat on his horse, watching his troops trudge along in the mud and struggle with the wagons. It wasn’t the first time he wished floaters were allowed in the Murgontian military. They were five leagues away from the Third Army. He wondered how many would fall sick again tonight.
Reggor, his aide, rode to his side, rain dripping from his wide brimmed hat. “The downpour is terrible, sir. We should stop soon. There’s no reason to push on towards the Third until this rain lets up or we get orders to push into Gerellia.”
“Three more leagues, Reggor. Have the men scout a suitable camp no more than two leagues away from the Third. I want to say to General Bollet that we are less than a day’s march away.”
“Yes, sir.” Reggor turned his horse and rode off towards the scout detachment.
Crissor fumed as he saw his men struggle in the mud. The steamwagons had been abandoned leagues behind them. This was no way to run an army and he had no idea how he could possibly work with General Bollet. He pushed his anger back and began to think about how to order his men for the march to Pent.
~
The tall window let the rain stream down in long rivulets. The low, gray clouds made it too dark for midday. Lorna’s mood matched the weather. She sat at her tiny desk, reading a dispatch from a trade representative in Bentonnia.
“You look excited,” Pronat Nox said, standing over her desk.
“Somehow I had envisioned a bit more of a challenge in the ministry. This is all about fish… and it smells.” Lorna couldn’t resist the little joke. “I’m sorry, Pronat. I am reading through these dispatches and making notes.”
“You’re right where Baston wants you. Out of the way, far from any decision-making and far, far away from him. At least you’re in the Palace.” He looked out at the dreary day. “How about lunch out, right now. My treat.”
Lorna put her head in her hands. “Anything to get from behind this desk.”
They put on cloaks and shuffled out the gates, walking along the large square that fronted the palace, finally ducking inside The Pleasing Palate. Shedding cloaks, they let the headwaiter seat them. Lorna had never ventured into this restaurant before. There were table linens and small candles in glass bowls at every table and small gaslight sconces lit the interior along with the fire from a large fireplace.
The waiter walked up, shaking his head and giving them menus. “Imagine a fire needed at this time of year.” He left to seat another set of customers.
“Thanks for delivering me from more fish,” Lorna said leaning across the table.
“We should have gone out sooner. I’m sorry for all this, but it was time to let you know a few things.”
“Oh?”
“You’re a decoy.”
Lorna’s face reddened. “A decoy?” In fact she had forgotten all about her working in the foreign ministry to keep others from being detected. It worked, for Blox certainly kept her away from any sensitive work.
“It takes attention away from me. I regularly apprise the Marquessa of activities within the ministry. Blox knows the Marquessa has placed an observer in his midst. You’ve been put there with the specific purpose of taking away some of Blox’s suspicion from me and it has worked beautifully.”
“I may be proud of my capabilities, but I wanted to be useful. A decoy isn’t my idea of usefulness.” She put her napkin on the table and watched the fire. Lorna sat, letting her temper get the better of her. She remembered Panix and his centering. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, finding her center and let her anger dissipate. “I’m calm.” She put out her arms to show she calmed down. “Now what about this decoy business?”
Pronat gave her a few moments to think. “The misdirection portion of your assignment is about over, Lorna. It’s time to put you to work.”
“The Marquessa is worried about Murgontia. She thinks they will try doing something in Gerellia.” The waiter placed some bread rolls at their table.
“My father mentioned Gerellia, when I came back from South Pent. Why not Bentonnia? The Great Plain dips right down to our border and beyond.”
“Bentonnia has a strong army and plenty of defenses on their border with Murgontia. Gerellia is plagued with a weak king. If Murgontia had enough forces, they could power their way through our frontier with Gerellia with nothing to stop them from coming all the way here. If we move our strongest forces in South Pent, they can attack through the two passes.”
“What does this have to do with me?” The waiter walked up and took their orders.
Pronat waited for him to leave. “Blox publically discounts the perils in Gerellia. He would suspect something if I volunteered to work with our Gerellian ambassador. He asked me for someone to put on the new Gerellian desk that the Marquessa demanded. I suggested you for the position and he is thinking about it.”
Lorna’s eyes brightened. “That’s great, but what would I do? I don’t have any training.”
“No, but you’re bright. Keep track of all the activities, especially the Murgontians in Gerell. You also must monitor the official correspondence between Blox and his cousin, Trell Blox, the Gerellian ambassador. We don’t have an intelligence group, so you will be interfacing with Corilla Westter and her husband, the Korvannan ambassador.”
“Here is a messaging token. With a simple spell, it allows you to send messages back and forth to Corilla.”
“No it doesn’t,” Lorna said. “I am just about the least magical person you will meet.”
“That’s right, I forgot. Don’t worry. I’ll keep the coin. If you must know, I can’t use them either. I get my wife…” Pronat smiled and then paused to pull a roll apart and pop a morsel in his mouth. “Since I’ll still be your administrative supervisor, we can easily pass messages.”
Luncheon arrived at their table. With the tough conversation out of the way, she really enjoyed her food. The rain continued, but Lorna’s day brightened considerably. Her new career seemed to finally start.
~
“I’ve never seen fireproofing like that before. How long does it last?” Moshin asked.
“There’s no way to tell other than experimenting. The spell is different from strengthening wood. I’m guessing it’s like floaters and the magic wears off after while. Maybe two days? We should test a couple of boards with two different thicknesses and find out.” Panix took another board and put a coating of hardened air over it. He gave it to Moshin.
Moshin held the board. “I can feel the thicker coating and can tell it has more magic. Can this be taught?”
“Again, I’m not sure. I’d have to work with Corlee or Jin.” That was hard for Panix to say. He detested the Academy and he knew his Morven memories were tainted.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to one way or another. You and your friend have invented more unique approaches to fieldwork in three weeks than in the last century, maybe ever.”
Panix walked to the sink to wash his hands. He looked out at the sun peeking out of the clouds and onto the dripping forest. “It’s not the magic. That’s not the point Moshin. It’s the process.” He thought back to his meetings with Sovad and the enlightenment he received from the Murgontian. Again he wondered how could such an evil person come up with such a simple elegant concept… and from Murgontia, no less?
“Now that I have shown you what marvels we’ve discovered, it’s time to get together and develop a new way to incorporate it into intelligence operations.”
The three men spent the next two weeks building a new model for intelligence gathering. Magic and technology were purposely not mentioned at the beginning of each problem, just what was needed to execute on the new model.
The new process exhilerated Panix and Moshin and Harlan were the perfect partners. Moshin was adept at proposing an intelligence problem. Generally it was related to investigation, but Panix knew the development methodology and Harlan contributed by making the idea practical and how it might be applied with technology. They outlined old
operations that Moshin either participated in or knew abou and picked apart each phase, action-by-action and analyzed what would make it better. This resulted in lists of new approaches.
They figured out that communications invariably had to improve. People had to get information much more quickly and those in the field needed to communicate the situation better. Panix knew that from hard experience, escaping from Sovad’s cave, but the messaging tokens were a great step forward.
They ended up with a long list of needs, prioritized the list and started from the top and sketching out what would be required to work. From there they classified the needs into major categories. Communications, Location, and Information Processing were the three highest need categories.
As they worked on alternatives to the needs, the three men realized that some approaches needed more magic and others required more information at the righ time, but most often, needs were combinations of magic and technology.
Late one night as they sat by the fire, listening to the incessant rain drum on the roof, Panix said, “If we take apart my foray into Southern Pent, it’s inescapable that the human element is paramount. All the aids we’ve talked about only help the people in the field do a better job.”
Moshin nodded. “You need a human to apply the solutions. Even in your metallurgical work, Harlan. It doesn’t matter if a product is completed manually or magically, a human must be involved—to guide the process or carry it out. Too many variables pop up.”
“And that varies, doesn’t it?” Harlan said. “Look at Quill Vent. No matter what kind of help he gets, he’s going to mess up somehow. The aids can help meet some of his needs, but if he is passed out midday on the floor of his house, he won’t be able to carry out an operation. You can’t get away from the training can you?”
“I’m glad you both realize that. Don’t minimize what we’ve done. This will revolutionize intelligence work. It gives the agents more tools to work with. More tools that they need to do a better job. I think a small team can pioneer all of these ideas. I would hope the KII could be revolutionized with your methodology.” Moshin paused. “You do know that there might be resistance to this, don’t you? Politics.”
Panix laughed. “When Foald Baltac hired me, he said that all it takes to create a political situation is three people.”
“He’s right you know,” Moshin said.
Panix went silent for a moment and then said, “Do you think any of this will help me find out who killed my father?” He glanced at his father’s picture, now sitting on the sideboard behind his messaging coin.
Moshin looked into the fire. “Perhaps. To be honest with you, Panix, there’s not much to go on. I’m afraid that we need something to happen. A slip of the tongue in the wrong place might let us know. All we know is that a Murgontian assassin performed the deed.”
“Sovad Mustak would be the prime candidate, but he met my mother the year after Father died. I’ll find a way, a method of investigation that will help me. We’ve only scratched the surface. You wrote that there are always the unexpected breaks in a mission that can happen.”
“Ah, the unexpected breaks.” Moshin said, smiling. “I can’t tell you how much luck has saved my life. Perhaps the killer will come up to you and confess,” Moshin said with a grim laugh.
“Perhaps, but I have in mind a way to look at events as a large context. Each little piece of the event is like a hole. The more holes you can cover, the clearer you get to see through the film that obscures the truth.”
“Sure, that’s sort of second nature. We used to talk about that back in Morven,” Moshin said.
“Yes, but with new tools, we can get a better context and get to the truth faster, right?”
Panix forced Moshin to agree, but he sensed reluctance in the man’s acquiescence.
“Maybe more time in the field will help you get a better understanding,” Moshin said.
The next morning, Moshin noticed a letter addressed to Panix sitting on the messaging coin. “A need?” Moshin said as he handed over the unopened letter.
Panix grunted as he read the letter. He gave it back to Moshin. “Trouble in Gerellia. Corilla says she needs your help. Evidently King Tomlano has given permission for the Murgontians to use the eastern slopes of Gerellia for war games. Foald Baltac deserves a prize for seeing it coming.”
Moshin looked up from the message. “And you are to go to Gerellia as well, but your mission is to scout the Murgontian army. I feel better now that you have Harlan at your side. Doing that alone with no training is too dangerous,” Moshin said. He observed both of them. “Neither of you are trained, but you’ll have the advantage of being able to watch one another’s back.”
“I wish we could travel together. We haven’t had sufficient time to do our work.”
“No. But we were talking last night about the importance of fieldwork. Perhaps, it’s time you both used those brains of yours in the field.” Moshin waved the message. “I have to leave today—you in a week or so. Don’t discount your talent. What we’ve talked about will certainly help the KII, but don’t hesitate to use your power when the need arises, Panix. Do what you do best.”
Panix grinned. “I will. Let’s get you provisioned and get you out of here. With all of this rain, your trip will be slow and muddy. Harlan and I will figure out something to keep us busy before we gaze upon our enemies.”
~~~~
War Games
Book Four
Chapter 19
But I don’t want you to leave Pent City,” Merra said with a pout, hoping it would have the desired effect on Baston. Life had become a sea of boredom now that Baston spent more time at the ministry dealing with the events in Gerellia. Even the refuge she sought in wine wasn’t quite enough to dull the constant waiting for the diminishing time Blox could share with her.
“I must go to Gerell. My cousin, Trell, has told me that Murgontia is making its move. I don’t want to be caught here between armies. We can still control things from Gerellia and it will be easier to slip away and meet Pokkan. I want his reassurance that I will run Pent after Murgontia has taken over.” Baston paced the room in Merra’s house.
“Take me with you. I need to get out of Pent for a while. I won’t get in your way. Please?” Merra walked up to him and gave him a passionate kiss.
Baston gently pushed her away from him and smiled. “I do believe we can do that. My wife and children are leaving for our estates near Bentonnia until the fall. We’ll make it happen.” Baston gave Merra the look that told her he would be spending the night. She would compensate him well for getting her out of Pent.
~
Rain beat down on the tent and General Crissor made sure he didn’t touch the walls or they would start dripping. The General’s staff looked at a border map spread out between them. “Bollet says the roads leading into Gerellia are mud soup. He will lead and I will follow in an orderly fashion.” Crissor made a face and threw the message down on the table.
Reggor blanched. “He actually used those terms? Hmmm. He’s giving you orders to follow him into Gerellia? You are the senior officer. Who is giving General Pollet his orders?”
“Nirov Kyrod, in Gerell. The Council has given authority to the tiny Kyrod to run this operation. That’s in the message too. Bollet, the Popinjay, is my leader and Nirov, another popinjay directs him. What is Murgontia turning into?” the General snorted.
The aide thought a moment. “Divvid Mustak is an aide to General Bollet. He and Nirov are very close so he’s probably getting his General preferred treatment.”
“Politics should have no place in the military,” Crissor sighed, “but I’m afraid I owe my position to it. Yetter told me that young Mustak wanted to be in the army and there’s little I can do when Uven Kyrod has gotten Wilton to give his son authority over me,” the General said.
“It looks like you’re forced to follow Nirov’s orders, sir.” Reggor got up and walked to the tent flap and opened it, looking at the weather. �
��We’ve got to find a way out of this.”
Crissor looked at the map. “Show me where there isn’t mud and that’s the way.”
Reggor turned back to the table and stared at the map.
~
Jorlan Roccoa walked with Nirov through the corridors of King Tomlano’s palace. “Don’t be overly confident in the King’s presence. He hates people who are too overbearing. You’ll have to dissemble.”
“Humpf. He’s already signed the agreement letting our troops practice war games on your soil.”
“Have you read the agreement, Nirov? I know you signed it, but it stipulates the King can cancel the agreement at any time.”
“Leave the King to me. If he is as cowered by people as you claim, I can handle him,” Nirov said. He had relied on his persuasive powers in the past, so he could handle the idiot king. The command of two armies elated him, especially when Divvid and he had successfully plotted their putdown of General Crissor. That would only improve Divvid’s chances for promotion as aide to the commanding general of the campaign, Gorvil Bollet. The weak Gerellian King paled in comparison to dealing with two Murgontian generals.
“Don’t underestimate His Majesty. He’s looked upon as weak, I know, but he can be difficult to deal with.”
Nirov wasn’t listening as they walked up the palace steps.
Jorlan and Nirov were announced and entered into the King’s Court. The inclement weather had thinned the ranks of nobles, but Nirov still felt like he was on a stage.
“May I present Nirov Kyrod, representative of the Council of Murgontia.”
“Thank you, Jorlan,” King Tomlano said. “Bring Nirov closer that we might talk more easily.”
