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War threatens in a world rebuilding. |
| Legate Apsel's eyes focused on the bold line that ran east-west across the map. Red flags to the north and yellow flags to the south; numbers closely matched, but to him there seemed to be far too many red flags. "Legate, we have another from the border," announced a Tribune as he entered the room. "He has insisted that he speak to you in person. He said you'd know his name.” "And that name?" He asked with out taking his eyes off the menacing red flags. "Cachamwri Setanta." That was indeed a name he knew. And the fact that he was here in person, with no attempt to conceal his identity, meant there was more going on north of the border than the timely death of the First of Conac. "Show him in." Throughout the day word had been arriving at all border gates that the First of Conac had died quietly in his sleep. An important event yes, but not unexpected. The First was an old man and old men tended to die of one cause or another. What ever this was it was important, and positive news never travels this fast. After a few moments the Tribune returned with a dignified old man. He looked to be in excellent health for a man in his seventies. He looked more vital then the Legate felt despite being more than thirty years his senior. The Tribune bowed, and left the two men studying each other. "I am Cachamwri Setanta," the old man stated finally. "You, Legate Apsel, obviously have heard of me." "Indeed I have heard of Cachamwri Sentanta, Senior Steward of Bedwyr palace," after brief pause he finish, "and spy for Thyria. Though to my knowledge you have never came in person to deliver information." "That is because I have not." "Is it fair to say that I am not going to enjoy your visit?" "No, no you will not," Cachamwri said with a chuckle. "I think you will very much regret having had seen me". "Well, I guess it is best if we get it over with" he said with a sigh. Cachamwri approached the other side of the table and looked down at the map. "Not many flags on this map, not like in the old days." "Too many for my liking." "Now, my reason for being here," he started. "As you are surely aware, the First was found deceased in his chambers this morning." The Legate gave a quick nod. "Apparently his heart gave out. It is true he was of an age when that sort of thing is not uncommon but the First had never before had problems with his heart. The Third showed up in short order and began seeing to the state's affairs but the Second still had not arrived by mid afternoon. At this time I was overseeing the serving of the Third's meal when a man was shown in to see him. Now it would be strange enough that a man be admitted to speak during a meal, but stranger still, this man was dressed as a commoner. The man approached and handed the Third a small cloth package then promptly left, having not said a single word." He halted in his story. It was obvious that Cachamwri was also a great storyteller to go along with his other abilities. He reached forward and pulled a red pin from the map and replaced it a short distance away. He did this with a further two pins before straightening up. "These locations are more accurate," he explained, then grabbed a new red pin from the side of the map and held it up in front of himself. "And you have apparently not been informed about the recent creation of a new reserve legion, it is currently located here." "Thank-you. You have a story to finish." The Legate reminded him peevishly. It was clear to him why this man had became an informant; he liked to show he knew things that other important figures did not. "Indeed," he replied. As he stood upright again he turned in profile to the younger man. You would not need to be told that the man standing there had importance. His bearing would tell you all you needed to know. "After the man left the Third ordered everyone out of the dining hall despite the fact that the meal was only partially served. When I attempted to object he made it clear he wanted us to leave immediately. So we did, but as I turned to close the doors behind us I saw the contents of the package." Again he paused but only briefly this time. "It seems that the Second will not be assuming the throne as is expected" "The Second abnegated? But why?" the Legate asked frowning. “I'm disappointed in you Legate Apsel,” the man scolded. “A man in your position is surely better read on Conac history than that.” “Assassination? But the assassin guilds were disbanded and absorbed into the military when Gorsedd took power,” he objected, frowning deeper. “After all, when you execute every member of every noble family, there's not much work left for an assassin guild.” “It is not required that you be a professional assassin to carry out an assassination.” The Legate inclined his head to cede the point. “You still have not said what was in the package that has allowed you to make such claims.” “The item that I witnessed removed from that package as closed the door was the finger of a man. A finger that happened to have on it a large signet ring,” he disclosed, glancing at the Legate to gauge the reaction. The younger man's frown could not have etched deep creases in his brows. “Now a man in my position must be able to identify any signet ring at a glance. For an empire that had its entire nobility executed just two generations ago, it has a great many noblemen each with their own distinguishing rings.” “And this one was the ring of the second heir,” the Legate supplied. “I did not see the face, so I can not be absolutely certain it was the Second's. But it was a ring of royal succession, and it would make little sense that it was one of the others.” Legate Apsel let out an exhale that sounded more like growl. He turned his back on the old man and map covered table. He closed his eyes and looked to the heavens. “Legate, if I may,” started Cachamwri after an indeterminate amount of time. “I must take time to consider this,” the Legate cut him off. How had this man missed his cue to leave? He thought angrily. “I will have a Tribune show you to quarters since you will obviously no longer be welcome at Bedwyr Palace.” He gestured towards the guards at the door as he said this and one of them ducked out of the room. “If you will please hear me out before I retire to quarters,” Cachamwri tried hopefully. The Legate opened his eyes and turned back to the man across the table. “Legate Apsel, it is not wise you seeing foreigners at a time like this. Changes of leadership are always such uncertain times and given the history between our empires, potentially dangerous. This is true even had it been a natural death of the first and a bloodless succession. Legate, you should be protected.” The Legate lifted an eyebrow and looked over at the three guards still standing at the door. “Yes, but this is a big room. They are so awfully far away,” he said. As the Legate looked back towards the old man he saw his hands move towards him with incredible speed. Incredible even had this been a man in his prime. Surprised, he tried to cry out but he couldn't make a sound. He felt something wet running down his chest. Terrified, his hands reached up and felt cold steel protruding from his throat. He fell to his knees. Cachamwri wasted no time after hurling the knife at the Legate. He turned and took several quick, powerful strides towards the stunned guards at the door. He put a knife in all three before any of them had thought to raise their shield or spear. Only one of them even recovered enough to look away from their fallen Legate and towards the man who had attacked. Cachamwri made for the door. The night was still young and there were several more ranking officers at this command post. Legate Apsel lay face down in his own blood. He felt the pain now as he struggled for breath. He could think of little besides taking that next breath. He tried to crawl forward, he needed to find someone to help him. He was already too weak to move himself. He just managed to lift his head a look towards the door. He did so just in time to see his killer slip through the door with a self satisfied smirk on his face. |
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