Syrin, awaiting news from the cell stationed in Tyq, withdrew from his own band and made his way to Iacho who sat on the floor on the opposite end of the room. If this man is indeed one of Vlaric's spies, Syrin decided to make small talk with Iacho. No hard or prying questions, just general chitchat about their present surroundings. Every Benutian knew the history of the goddess-queen Amarah and of her castle. If Iacho is Benutian by birth, he would be able to converse freely on the Amarah legend. Only the Chalouians and Kororians are purposely ignorant of Benutian history and culture.
However there was one topic Syrin would not touch: the presence of Amarah's direct descendent. Said woman had finally arrived with Prince Asen via the dragon Warith. Governor Chenek wisely advised the pair stay in the uppermost tower, away from the other rebels lest Iacho should get a glimpse of Asen thus alerting Vlaric's minions. Their safety was paramount as both still had to make the long trip to Nemir, a journey necessary before Danielle could take her rightful place as liberator of the people.
He flopped down next to Iacho, smiling at the man as an old friend. Ever so careful to conceal his true intent, Syrin greeted the man, saying, "May I join you? I noticed you sitting here all alone, so I thought I'd keep you company. Awful business, this waiting for further instructions. Still, the wait is necessary in order to fulfill overall objective."
Syrin glanced about the grand hall, taking in the sheer beauty of the architecture, feeling the presence of the legendary goddess-queen as if she never left.
"Quite eerie, being here," he said, "I suppose it fills a true Benutian with pride just being here. It's been said Amarah's lover, Benion, built this castle especially for her. You remember those old stories the elders handed down for generations immemorial: How Amarah, lonely and desperately searching for a companion, cast her lot into the sea, uttering a prayer. And he came, a seafaring man from a distant land. He was returning from a war. I forget what the war was about, or which nations fought. At any rate, Benion and Amarah fell in love then married. There were several children, and they founded the country of Benut, named after Benion and his father Amphut."
No reaction from Iacho, who merely shrugged at the brief history lesson. He just replied, "I forgot most of that. Our father said to look forward, not back. After all, it is the future that is most important. Isn't that why we're fighting against the Eldonian machine? To ensure our freedom from tyranny?"
An astonished Syrin, impressed at Iacho's deflection of this probing disguised as simple conversation, pressed further.
"Even so, the legends are fascinating, and they hold our peoples together. Did you know Indria, the first queen consort of Eldonia, was a direct descendent of Amarah and Benion? Oh yes, and she excelled at the art of Benutian dance. It was Amarah who used the dance to celebrate the feminine spirit, not just to inflame the carnal desires. Although when one sees our women dance, especially those outside our country, it is assumed the movements suggest the carnal. All that sinuous gyration and sensual expression, you know."
He watched Iacho's expression which slightly blushed. Oh yes, how he tries to hide his prurient nature, for he is no Benutian by birth. The mere mention of the dance inflames the ordinary Eldonian man, causing him to entertain, perhaps actually carrying out, his dark carnal designs on our women. From the reddening of the cheeks, the sweat on the brow, the slight agitation, Iacho fills with lust for our women. The mental picture alone of Tanina or Melaria undulating to sensuous music is too much to bear. I've seen this reaction before, and heard of many an Eldonian man, especially the spy Globbock, literally assaulting our women, believing them 'easy' and yielding to a man's lustful advances.
Syrin, calming himself and not wanting Iacho to get wise to this probing, deftly changed the subject. He touched upon the fate of the Eldonian navy. Obviously, King Vlaric had heard of the entire fleet's demise, and Iacho, if he indeed is working for Globbock, would be highly interested in this development.
"Bad business," Syrin said, "losing the whole navy. The story goes a monster rose from the depths, smashing each and every battleship. No one survived, you know. Now Vlaric has nothing but his army, and those men will have to battle our own militia, that is if Ubu and Cadmore manage to secure the city, gather enough people willing to fight. It will not be hard to persuade our people to defend their country..."
His voice trailed off on purpose, and he intently watched as Iacho shifted uncomfortably. The man rose from the floor, saying, "I am sorry, Syrin, but I must get some air. This inactivity is getting to me. If you will excuse me, and it's not that I'm bored with our conversation. I enjoy your company, but..."
"Say no more, my friend," said Syrin, now knowing Iacho, once learning of the loss of the navy and the other players in the rebel alliance, was on his way to report to Globbock. Yet, how does Iacho communicate with the chief Eldonian spy? Globbock wouldn't show his face here, in Benut, or would he?
If only Syrin had followed Iacho, but something detained him, and thank the Goddess timely news indeed arrived. Actually two messengers arrived. The first, Aten, the gryphon, relayed important details pertinent to routing the spy Globbock and his henchman Iacho.
"Globbock is on his way now," said Aten. "The King's spy, waiting at Glasswell Station, accepted a ride from a stranger. How odd that this man's destination was the same as Globbock's. Apparently the stranger claims to be no friend of our freedom fighters, thus Globbock assumes his benefactor has valuable information."
Then Aten whispered into Syrin's ear, revealing that secret plan to trap Vlaric's spies. The rebel leader smiled, almost laughed, saying, "My friend, Iacho is indeed a spy, and he's been passing information to Globbock. No doubt the latter will relay all to King Vlaric. Dear Aten, return to Nemir as our salvation and her companion will depart from this place before sunset."
After Aten departed, the second messenger, the giant Benutian Birdwing, a creature who usually doesn't show its face in the daylight, fluttered its massive gray, blue-spotted wings. The moth's constant fluttering created a telling breeze, filling the great hall with cool, rushing air. It hovered over Syrin and allowed him to remove the parchment from its probiscus.
Syrin thanked the insect, read the note, then nearly reeled. Gathering his composure, he told the moth, "Go the uppermost tower. There you will find Governor Chenek with Prince Asen and Danielle. If what Aughir wrote is true, the prince will need friends with him."
++++++
Outside, far from the castle, Iacho stood on the hill overlooking the sea. From this spot, he could see not only the shore and water but the lone road hugging the coastline as well. He watched that road intently, hoping Globbock had managed to catch that last train to Pinemoor, the Benutian border town presently held captive by Vlaric's army. Iacho assumed Globbock would have no problem getting through the heavily guarded depot; all was needed was to show the soldier on duty the necessary papers thus allowing passage. That was how bad things had gotten: Any traveler had to produce papers showing he or she is not a native Benutian or rebellion sympathizer, and that he or she is loyal to Eldonia and its king.
From Pinemoor, Globbock would travel by carriage to Inamor, near the castle's locale. No doubt the journey will take a good part of the day given the frequent stops by soldiers in search of rebels or other traitors to the Crown.
Iacho wished Globbock was here now; he had much information to pass on, and the usual method was dead, shot down by one of the Syrin's band. Iacho had employed a specially trained pigeon to send messages to Iacho, but that little brat, that Ary, aimed his blowgun and shot a poisoned dart, killing the bird instantly. The reason? Syrin explained the bird appeared to carry a note, obviously a message from one of Vlaric's spies. We can take no chances, the rebel leader explained, and what Ary did ensured success for the freedom fighters' cause.
Drat!, Iacho fumed. Now I have no way to relay this latest news. Just as Globbock suspected: Someone within the Eldonian court, the nobility, is a key player in the Benutian rebellion, and said person is Lord Cadmore, the so-called 'friend' of Prince Asen. So, he and Ubu have secured the provincial seat of Rumil, eh? Well, they'll have to get past the king's army, and they can't do it with those insipid little blowguns.
Iacho's luck seemed to change for the better the moment he heard the heavy hum of a vehicle, at least it sounded like a conveyance of sorts. Not too many in all of Eldonia have motor-powered vehicles; most land travelers get around by horse and carriage, on horseback, or on foot. Long distance travel is by the extensive rail system developed during King Tristan's reign. He was Vlaric's great-great grandfather and a firm believer in advanced technology. Tristan, impressed by a newcomer's knowledge of electricity, telecommunications, and rail travel, employed this man, had him develop the rail system, and electric power plant using ichorshale, a plentiful mineral found in both Benut and Chalou Provinces.
However, Eldonia's technological past and achievements were hardly on Iacho's mind now as he peered into the distance, at last seeing a fast approaching vehicle. The closer it came into view, Iacho could make out its shape, and its passengers. It was unlike the few motor vehicles Iacho had ever before seen. Two-wheeled with a powerful engine, the motorcycle sped up the road, toward the bluff where upon Iacho stood. Now, as the bike drew closer, Iacho could make out the sidecar's passenger, for no one in all Eldonia matched this man's description. He was rather heavyset, too large to fit into the cramped car's seat. The plain face, despite the goggles and ill-fitting helmet, was instantly recognizable.
But who was the driver?
The bike, now ascending the hill, slowed to a stop. Globbock grunted and groaned as he wrestled himself out of the sidecar. His driver dismounted and assisted Globbock from the confining seat.
"Iacho," Globbock said as he removed the goggles and helmet. "I missed the last train, so this gentlemen kindly offered a ride. It was rather rough-going at first, but his machine is a marvel. I would guess we beat the train by the time we reached Pinemoor. Oh my God, Iacho, the forces are everywhere: At the borders, all along the roads, in each and every village between here and the border. I'll tell you this, my friend, those rebels will rue the day they decided to play their 'We want our independence' game. King Vlaric's got a price out on Chenek's head. Yeah, offering ten-thousand aurics for anyone who brings in the bastard alive."
He rambled on and on, nearly forgetting his benefactor. He turned to the man, saying, "I forgot to thank you properly for the ride. My friend here will thank you as well, and I'm sure His Majesty will bestow a handsome sum once he hears how you came through for your country."
The man said nothing; he merely nodded. Iacho studied this man, taking in everything. The 'kind stranger' was rather tall, slim, and clad head to toe in black leather. The huge bubble helmet with its darkly tinted full-face shield completely encased the man's head, hiding his face from view.
Globbock, disregarding the man, walked up to Iacho, saying, "I hope you got some news for me. Banes is getting itchy about using you-know-what on these folks. What happened to the bird I gave you?"
A fuming Iacho explained the pigeon's demise courtesy of the rebel Ary.
"This is why I couldn't send any more messages. But all is not lost, Globbock. I talked with Syrin, their leader, and according to him, Lord Cadmore is helping to secure Rumil. He is there with Chenek's aide, Ubu. I say we alert Captain LaGras, have his men take the city by force, kill anyone who gets in the way. Then relay to Banes that it's Cadmore who is the turncoat."
Iacho, still eyeing the stranger, asked Globbock, "What about those crates I saw at Glasswell Station? They're mislabelled; I'm sure of it. Have you told the king of this finding?"
Globbock shook his head, replying, "Not yet. I tried to get into the Royal Palace yesterday, but Aughir said to made sure my facts are correct. If indeed those crates contain anything but phérium bombs, we'll need to return to Tyq at once. I say rip 'em open, inspect the contents, then if what we suspect is true, we tell the king everything. Oh yeah, I've got more dirt on some of those rebels working in the city. One guy, Enos, seems to be the leader of the Tyq cell, working as a short-order cook of all things. I got it straight from one of my contacts in town; Enos has been seen coming and going from that tavern where you and I met."
"The Oaken Bucket."
"Exactly, and I think that barmaid knows more than she's letting on. She could be a rebellion sympathizer."
Iacho grinned sinisterly. His ordinarily handsome face darkened; his eyes glowered with sheer fury. He said, "Globbock, we must return to Tyq now. Here, why don't you go back, and I'll manage to leave here on my own–"
The black-clad stranger, silent during the spies' confab, finally spoke: "Guys, if you want to go back to Tyq, I can make travel arrangements for both of you. As you can see, I can only take on one passenger, but if you would walk down this road a couple of miles, there's a village where you'll find an old guy named Hanon. He rents carriages to many a traveler. I'm sure, given your connections with Vlaric's court, he'll give you a special rate. Perhaps he'll lend a carriage for free."
Then he added, just to sweeten the pot, "For what it's worth, I know all about those rebels, and the crate switch. Those bombs are fakes, my friends. Oh yes, when they go off, they'll do no damage."
Now Globbock and Iacho had all the information needed to squash the rebel alliance. If it's war those bastards want, then Vlaric will give it to them, and wipe their sorry butts off the map for good this time. So, the bombs are fake, useless. King Vlaric must be alerted at once, and that tavern raided for any and all rebels operating in Tyq.
Globbock turned to the stranger and asked, "Is this Hanon a reasonable man? Can he be trusted in lending us a carriage so we can at least get to Rumil and catch the express to Tyq? Time is of the essence, and the king, if he wants to save his country, must learn of this latest treachery."
The stranger replied, "Of course he is reasonable. As I said, if you tell him it's official business, then he can't refuse."
Globbock thought it over. This man was kind enough to give him a ride all the way from Tyq to this desolate, god-forsaken place off the Benutian coast. Perhaps he could ride with the man to this village, meet with Hanon, and secure transportation back to Tyq.
"Iacho," he said, "I have an idea. You remain here for the time being, that is if my friend here doesn't mind taking me to the village. Wait until I return with a carriage...Whoa! What is that?"
A steady hum announced the approach of another motor vehicle. Down the road it came, and both spies wondered how these backward Benutians managed to get hold of an engine-powered, multi-passenger carriage. At least to these guys the thing looked like a carriage but nothing they've ever before seen.
The vehicle stopped a few feet from where the trio stood. Jumping out the driver's side was an old man, short and fat, balding head and long white beard. His clothes were not the best, almost threadbare.
He immediately ambled up to the stranger, saying, "Lan, am I glad you called me. I thought I'd never get ol' Jacie started up. I hear your friends might need a ride, so here I am."
The elderly man turned to Globbock, shook his hand, and said, "My name's Hanon, and no doubt Lan said I rent conveyances of every kind, and not the just horse-and-buggy type. Yes, sir, when Lan called ahead, I got ol' Jacie ready, so you boys won't have to walk all the way to Seayork. That's my home."
Hanon glanced in the distance, at Amarah's castle, and said wistfully, "That place is our most sacred. Almost got bombarded to smithereens back during the last rebel stand. King Vort did that himself, the bastard. Those snooty Eldonian folks back in Chalou Province have no sense of decency, and that includes their rotten king. I tell you, I'm so glad you boys are with us. Yes sir! We'll smash 'em this time, I can tell you that."
Iacho and Globbock, both smarting from this slam on their king and people, kept their composure. The former said, "Sir, if you can just take us as far as Pinemoor so we can catch the next train–"
"What my friend means," interrupted Globbock, becoming alarmed that his partner in espionage might slip and blow each other's cover, "is that we have to get back to our jobs in Tyq. See, we're supposed to report to Enos, the leader of the cell in the capital city. We'll be late if we don't catch that last express..."
"Say no more, boys," replied Hanon who glanced at Lan. "You guys must be that much of a hurry. All right, I can take you all the way to Pinemoor, but I have to make one more stop along the coast. Have a couple of passengers to pick up, if you don't mind."
That said, both spies decided to accept the ride, even if the driver is a native Benutian and rebel sympathizer. Besides, thought Globbock, if it works out, he could alert the Eldonian soldiers on duty and turn in Hanon as enemy of the state. So what if General LaGras orders old Hanon killed outright, on the spot. That would be one less rotten Benutian for King Vlaric to worry about.
"We don't mind," said Globbock, "the side trip. Just as long as we make to Pinemoor in time to catch that train."
The pair immediately boarded the old bus, but not before Globbock thanked Lan for timely assistance.
"Lan," said the spy, "So now I know your name. I thank you for all kindness and help. As I said before, I will mention your name to the king. I'm sure His Majesty will offer some sort of reward for your cooperation in this delicate situation."
Lan, finally taking off his helmet to reveal his incredibly handsome face, said, "No problem, Globbock. I hope you and Iacho will have a pleasant journey, and I'm truly assured you will reap your well deserved reward as well."
Lan's very green eyes sparkled; he flashed a brilliant smile. Tossing his head, the long golden blonde hair gently whipping in the breeze, he said to Hanon, "Take care of these gentleman, Hanon. They are very precious cargo, so don't be too long in your 'side trip'."
Old Hanon just winked at Lan, then took him aside, whispering, "Oh, I know just what to do with them, Lan. And you can inform Evore all is well. Globbock and Iacho will rue the day they ever played the spy game with us."
Copyright©2006 by P.R. Parker. All rights reserved.