He’s the Alex

I’m sorry for the later-than-usual post. I got thoroughly distracted by another book series (The Mallorean, by David Eddings). And then my brother wanted me to go shopping with him, since he doesn’t currently have a car and I do… Enough excuses. To the story!
**************
Var tried not to shiver, but it was just so hard with Tracker staring down at them. He, Calvin, and Jordan were tied together at the wrists, their backs to each other. He glanced around, trying to figure out where they were. The Grelend estate had a few acres of trees to create a small forest. He had taken many a girl into these woods, flirting and kissing in the moonlight. However, he didn’t know all the paths of the forest despite his journeys, and they were off the beaten path. The only thing he knew about where they were being held was that the thickets around them easily concealed them from anyone looking and that there were ants on the ground they were plopped on.

But really, not knowing where they were and the ants beginning to bite his flesh were the least of his worries.

Tracker was an average man, height, weight, dark hair color, even his clothes were dismissive. However, Venter’s top spy had an aura about him that was anything but normal. A dangerous killer with no mercy or heart was more like it.

“You told me that he’d get all his tent mates,” Tracker was saying to the girl who betrayed them. Var had once considered kissing those full lips until she started showing interest in the farmer. A waste, he had thought at the time, that a girl with her full figure and gorgeous hair would consider someone as dull as Jordan.

“I’m glad I couldn’t get a hold of Martin,” Jordan muttered, his eyes still red from crying. Var bit his tongue, hoping that the farmer would stop talking. Tracker had killed men for less than that. “At least I didn’t betray him.”

“Oh?” Tracker asked, raising an eyebrow. “Why couldn’t you get a hold of him?”

“Because he said he was busy,” Jordan said, his head bowed in defeat. “Something about meeting with his friends.”

“Rumors are going around that the Ghost is courting the head researcher,” the girl explained to the Tracker. “If he’s not seen in classes, he’s seen with her.”

Tracker frowned a bit. “A lost valuable resource.” He glanced at the other three men. These large men were dressed like commoners. Var suspected that they came into the mansion by delivering goods that morning. They were henchmen, nothing more than to do as the Tracker ordered.

“We can’t go after the Ghost now,” Tracker concluded, standing so his back was to his prisoners. “Ghosts are tricky by themselves and one who has discovered his tent mates missing would be even harder to grab.” He turned his head slightly, viewing the tied men through the corner of his eye. “We’ll just have to make due with what we’ve got.”

Var couldn’t tell who shivered; Calvin, Jordan, or himself. Perhaps all three of them. The tone Tracker used was dangerous. Var had always wondered if the man was actually sane. Tracker thoroughly enjoyed causing pain and he killed without warning. It was because of this man that Var decided to cut his connections with the Venter spy organization.

It had been fun and rewarding to begin with, when they recruited him shortly after his arrival at Yataner, the capital of Venter. Spying on other foreigners wasn’t hard or dangerous, and the money and status he got doing it was worth the risk. But then… He shivered, remembering the day when his contact, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, and him were unable to finish a job. Tracker made short work of the girl to impress on him to finish the job. That night, with the help of another contact, he managed to escape Venter and returned to Aeterna, where he returned to his simple, nondangerous, life.

But now he found himself again under the murderous hands of Venter’s top spy. I don’t know if things can get any worse.

“They’re going to come looking for us, you know,” Calvin said, wiggling a bit against his bonds. His tone grew steadily louder and angrier at their captors. “They won’t let any of us away. We’re too valuable. And Martin’s a Ghost! He saved the Stand. He will certainly…” Calvin cried out as Tracker kicked him in the gut, knocking all three of them over. The merchant groaned as he tried to curl into a ball.

“Don’t talk of the Stand to me,” Tracker growled, his frame shaking with anger. “I don’t know about this Ghost of yours, or why you stupid Aeternans praise him. From what I remember about the siege, that Ghost never stepped foot outside the prison fort!”

Var closed his eyes and cringed, wishing he could disappear right then. If Tracker was hard on people for not following orders, he was even harder on himself and took it out on others.

Someone grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him back up straight. Var reluctantly opened his eyes to come face to face with the Tracker.

“Now, Var,” he said quietly, “I know that you’ve been sneaking around. Don’t bother denying it. You were good before and you wouldn’t want those special talents to wither away. Tell me. What have you learned about the search for the prince?”

“Nothing,” he said honestly, hoping the fear couldn’t be heard in his voice. “The head researcher, she’s good a keeping secrets. And the queen, all she cares about is getting to know us, leaving the searching to others.”

“Come now,” Tracker said in a sick sweet tone. “There has to be more.”

“There isn’t!” Var snapped, the fear taking away his common sense. “The security is too tight! And I don’t care about their search for the prince! It’s all politics and I want no part of it!”

Smack!

Var found himself on the ground, his cheek burning. Tasting blood in his mouth, he slowly moved his tongue along his teeth, finding a couple loose.

“But you are a part of it, Var,” Tracker sneered, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “Like it or not, you are on the list and a former Venter informant.” The spy pulled out a knife, gently thumbing the edge. “Now, are you going to tell me what I need to know or…” He scrapped the blade against the glassmith’s quivering chin, the sound of rough stubble being cut off. “Do I need to extract the answers out of your hide?”

Ashamed, Var began to cry. He was going to end up like that poor girl.

“I don’t know,” he sobbed, closing his eyes tight to keep the tears from falling. “I honestly don’t know.”

Tracker sighed, the knife taken from his chin. “I guess I’ll just have to cut the answers out.” The Venter spy sounded glad for the opportunity.

PING!

“What!” Tracker exclaimed, standing up.

Var opened his eyes. The knife had fallen to the ground as an arrow lodged itself into the ground by his feet. Tracker spun around, looking around the thicket that surrounded them.

“Who’s there?” he demanded to know. The three thugs immediately surrounded their prisoners, lowering their center of gravity as they prepared themselves for a fight. Even the girl joined the circle around them, her quick eyes trying to spot what had attacked.

“Show yourselves!” Tracker demanded, leaning down to pick up his fallen knife.

PING!

Tracker yelped as another arrow came between his hand and the knife. “There are at least two of them,” he warned the others, watching the thicket closely. They turned too slow to see a small round ball drop into their mist. Var stared at it, recognizing a smoke bomb when he saw one.

“Great,” Tracker growled, ripping out two other knives from his sleeves. The smoke burst around them, clouding their vision. Jordan and Calvin both coughed, while Var had to blink the sting of the smoke from his eyes. Who was it?

“Oof!”

“Oie!”

“Ack!”

There goes the three henchmen, Var thought, amazed. A gust of wind cleared the air, revealing what had happened in just moments. The three thugs were unconscious on the ground, three other men standing over them. The three men were completely dressed in black, their faces covered by a mask. Tracker and the girl had managed to get clear of the smoke and were staring at the three men.

“Who are you?” Tracker demanded to know, lowering his stance for a fight. “Were you sent by Suit?”

Suit? Who has a name like Suit?

“Untie them,” said one of the men, not turning to the other two. “I’ll take care of him.”

Without warning, the man leapt forward and attacked the Tracker. The Venter spy was startled by the sudden attack, taking a step back as he tried to block the masked man’s advancement. The two men knelt down and started cutting their bonds. Var couldn’t even say thanks to his rescuers as he watched the fight, gaping as it intensified.

The two men had knives in both hands, dodging and giving blows at unnatural speed. They seemed even as they tried to get the advantage. The man in black suddenly dropped to the ground and kicked out at Tracker’s legs. The Venter spy rolled away, jumping up just in time to block the other man’s dagger from smashing into his head. They struggled to force the other to their knees.

“You’re good,” Tracker said, grinning as if he enjoyed the fight.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” the masked man grumbled.

Then the masked man dropped his knives and punched the spy in the stomach, forcing the Tracker back. The man in black didn’t wait for Tracker to regain his breath and began hurling fists and kicks faster than seemed possible. Sweat visibly shown on the spy’s forehead as he tried to block the man’s attacks. But the masked man was slightly better; he used moves that Var had never even seen before and thought would have been impossible to pull off. He kept forcing the Venter spy back almost to the thicket…

Tracker slipped. With a cry, he landed on his back. The masked man was on him in a second, pinning the spy on the ground by kneeling on his hands and a knife to his throat. Var had no idea where that blade came from. Tracker was breathing hard, tilting his head high to avoid the blade.

“Let me guess,” he panted with hate. “Suit finally named his successor.” The mask man nodded slightly. “It’s about time.”

“It took me a while,” the man answered in a soft, emotionless tone.

“I bet,” Tracker chuckled, trying to move his hands from under the man’s knees. “Suit is a proud man. Tell me. Have we met before this?”

“Perhaps.”

Tracker actually laughed. “A spy’s answer!” He clamed down, glaring at his captor and smiling at the same time. “I wish this could play out, but I’ve got work to do.”

Var wondered what Tracker was talking about when the masked man spun around and stopped the girl from hitting him over the head with a club. Var stared. How did the man know the girl was there? He hadn’t seen her until it was almost too late!

Tracker took advantage of the distraction. Kicking out, he threw the man off of him. The man rolled as he fell and jumped back up, but Tracker was gone, disappeared into the thicket. The girl was also about to run when the man caught her instead, flinging her to one of the other men.

“Great,” one of the men grumbled as he caught the girl, holding her still even as she tried to break his hold. “We’ve lost Tracker.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” the fighter said, tugging at his mask. “He’s running. He’s not coming back.” The man finally pulled the mask off his head.

“Martin!” Jordan exclaimed, stunned. Sitting on the ground, the farmer and merchant had also watched the fight, rubbing the feeling back into their wrists. “Did you really… How…”

“Stories for later,” said the man holding the girl. “Hey, Martin, how about handing me a rope to tie these traitors together?”

Martin shrugged and walked over. Bending down, he picked up the rope that had previously held them and helped tie the three men and girl up. When the task was done, the two other men also pulled off their masks.

“Duke Thomas?” Calvin breathed, going pale. “What are you doing here?”

The duke absently rubbed the mask between his fingers. “Well,” he said, trying to match the Ghost’s shrug. “Martin asked me to help rescue you.”

“Ordered is more accurate to say,” said the third man, Luke. He then snorted. “If the commander had just listened to us, he would have been the ones to rescue you three.”

“We’ll swap stories later,” Martin said, pulling one thug to his feet as the man groaned back into consciousness. Thomas moved over to help the Ghost steady the man. “Let’s go.” Var and Calvin also took a man while Jordan picked the third. Luke was left with the girl. Var exchanged confused looks with the merchant.

This had not been a rescue they had been expecting.
****************
Martin wasn’t surprised at all when they left the small forest to find a small army posed, ready to invade. The front most person was Queen Abigail herself, looking ready to do battle all by herself still covered in dust from her ride back. Behind her stood Commander Bentley and Lord Grelend, both men fidgeting as they sensed their queen’s mood. The soldiers behind them at least seemed somewhat calm.

“Are we sure that we want to come out now?” Thomas asked, grimacing when he saw the queen’s rigid stance and her angry eyes. “I mean… We are kinda dressed funny…”

“There’s no helping it,” Martin groaned, the emotions of the awaiting unit hitting him with worry and fear. “We’re going to get lectured about this.”

“Why?” Luke asked, shaking the girl he held captive. “We did our job!” She glared at the tall spy and tried to wiggle out of his grasp, more for resisting than an actual attempt to escape.

As they walked out of the woods and approached the unit, the queen strolled forward, taking in their captives and them. “Where’s Tracker?” she demanded to know.

Martin grimaced. What? No worries about their health? “He managed to escape,” he reluctantly reported. “But he’s running and won’t be coming back.”

“And these?” the queen asked, eyeing their prisoners.

“A spy,” Luke answered, shaking the girl again. The spy glared at him; to her credit, she didn’t look very scared. She should have, if she realized that the person who held her was considered one of the best poisoners in Aeterna. “And a few of Venter thugs.”

The queen took her time to look at the four captives, her frame shaking in anger. “Commander!” she snapped. The poor man stepped forward. Martin really felt sorry for the man. “Have your men take these spies into the dungeons and post a guard. You will follow me to my office.” She watched as the guards took the prisoners, her flashing grey eyes focused on the spies and rescued. “And you six, you’ll also join me.” She turned on her heel and marched back toward the mansion.

Feeling as if he got in great trouble, he and the others followed the queen back into the mansion. As they walked, Sona joined them. “She’s in a bad mood,” she whispered to him when she walked up to his side.

“Really?” he asked tiredly. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“What’s the matter?” she asked, concerned.

“Tracker got away.”

“Oh,” she said lamely and said nothing more.

When they arrived at the queen’s office, she yanked the door open and pointed at them to enter. They ducked inside, avoiding Abigail’s accusing gaze. Once they were all in, Sona included, the queen slammed the door shut. They jumped.

“Now,” she said in a low dangerous tone, folding her arms and stood in front of the door, “I want an explanation of what happened here.” She turned to Martin, knowing that he would have all the answers.

Coughing, he shifted on his feet. No one else dared sit when the queen just stood there. “As best as I understand it, Jordan was tricked by the female spy and was told to gather all of us into our tent. While they were there, Tracker and his men captured them. I was not there because Sona had asked myself, Luke, and Thomas to a meeting.”

“What about Var?” the queen asked, shooting an angry glare at the quivering glassmith. “I know you suspected him of being the spy.”

“That’s what our meeting was about,” Sona offered timidly. She paled a bit when Abigail faced her. “I decoded his messages and found out that, although he had been a spy while he was in Venter, he had cut ties after a murder and returned to Aeterna. He’s been trying to get away from the Venter spy network this entire time.”

Abigail blinked, surprised by the answer. She turned again to the shivering glassmith. “Is this true?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Var said, flinching and bowing low. “I am ashamed to admit that I had spied on other foreigners when I lived in Venter. But I have cut ties and have been trying to make an honest living back here in Aeterna.”

“Forgive me!” Jordan suddenly cried, dropping to his knees. “It was me! I fell in love with the girl! I had no idea she was a spy!”

Abigail sighed. Walking over to the weeping farmer, she gently patted his quaking shoulders. “You have no need to ask for forgiveness. Spies are very good at manipulating people to meet their goals. She would have picked another helpless soul to betray.” She glanced over at Martin, the sternness softening a bit. “It was perhaps for the better that it was your tent she targeted. Martin, what happened after your meeting with Sona this morning?”

Taking a deep breath, Martin related what had happened, leaving out how his powers had stopped him from walking into danger. When he started talking about how they tired to get the aid of the commander, the queen’s expression darkened again. She turned to the commander.

“And why didn’t you believe him?” she asked frostily. The poor man cringed.

“I’ve had prank kidnap stories before,” he tried to explain, trying to shrink back into the wall. “I thought it was another. Especially since it’s no secret that the Ghost and glassmith don’t like each other. The glassmith had already tried to pull that prank about the Ghost.” Abigail shot another glare at Var, causing him to shiver. “I had thought that the Ghost would have thought I would have listened to him because he was some great war hero.”

“Some great war hero?” the queen hissed, her eyes narrowing. “Do you have any idea who he really is?”

Uh oh, Martin thought, controlling his expression to an outward calm. The queen was angry and likely to say anything about him. She pointed at him, her finger quivering. “He’s the Alex, you dolt! He wouldn’t try to pull pranks! He knows better!”

Even the weeping farmer froze, all eyes suddenly focused on him. Martin leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. It always happened this way. The shocked expressions, looking like they had swallowed something too large and unpleasant, the open stares, the stunned silence. That’s right, he thought. I’m a spy, and a very good one at that. Stare, for all the good it’ll do you.

“From now on,” the queen insisted, ignoring the shock of his tent mates and commander, “you will listen to what Martin has to say. He knows what he is talking about.” She snorted. “Or perhaps I should relieve you of command…”

“That might be best,” Thomas offered, speaking for the first time. “Our commander was pulled out of retirement for this job. I bet he’s tired.”

“And he has been dealing with us listed men,” Martin pointed out. “I wouldn’t blame him with all the wild stories he’s heard about us. He was only trying to do the best job he could.” He paused. “And he didn’t know what I am.”

Abigail stared between the two of them, blinking in surprise. Frowning, she turned again to the commander, who was looking a bit relieved that someone had come to his defense. “Is this true?” she asked.

“I am tired,” the commander sighed, tears in his eyes. “I’m too old for this!”

Abigail sighed. Walking around her desk, she dropped into her chair. “This is a fine mess,” she said softly. “And I suppose we all have a part in it.” Sighing, she leaned back in her chair, noting the relaxing faces of those in her office. “Right now we should focus on what we can do. We’ll need to get the prisoners to talk.”

“I can do it,” Luke offered, holding his hand up. “I’ve got a few truth poisons that will have them singing like birds.”

“I have no doubt that you do,” Abigail said, looking a bit worried. Since she had found out about Luke’s special skills, she had been wary of him. “We also need to discuss security.”

“If I might,” Martin said, getting the startled glances again. “We don’t have to worry about the enemy compromising our search. Tracker wasn’t able to get anything, from either his spies or the captives. What I suggest, however, is that we allow the commander to stay while he trains his replacement, and we tell that replacement that Luke, Thomas, Sona, and myself are all actually spies.”

His tent mates shook, now staring shocked at the other spies.

“He’s more likely to listen,” Abigail sighed. “I wish I had thought of that before…” Taking a deep breath, she sat up straight, taking a commanding presence again. “Var, Jordan, Calvin, you are not allowed to speak of what you have heard here. It is vital to these spies that their identities aren’t compromised. I will require your oaths to not reveal them.”

The three men were quick to give their words, licking their fingers and brushing their foreheads in motion to show their oath.

“Good,” she said satisfied. “I now wish to have a private conference with the commander. Spies, you know your duty and you others know not to reveal them. You are dismissed.”

Bowing, the seven of them left, breathing out a sigh of relief. “That wasn’t so bad,” Luke said, grinning. “We’ve gotten worse lectures from my dad.”

“That’s true,” Thomas said, half smiling.

“Personally,” Martin said, painfully aware of the stares he was still getting from his tent mates, “I would have rather not gone into her office at all.” His friends nodded.

“I’m still lost,” Calvin said, finally speaking. He rubbed his head, looking very confused. “All four of you are actually spies? Even Duke Thomas?”

“Yes,” Martin said, smirking. “We’re a dangerous group to get together.” He then snapped his fingers, pointing at Var. “Oh, and you broke first.”

The glassmith stared at him with a blank look. “I broke first?”

Martin chuckled. “Yes. I found out about your past before you learned who I was.”

Var flinched, finally lowering his eyes. “I guess you’re right. I should have never tried to challenge you.”

“Now you know better,” Martin snorted. “Keep it in mind. Now, if everyone will excuse me, I’m starving.”

“I’ll get food from the kitchen,” Luke offered. “We’ll share a meal in Sona’s office.”

“Thanks for offering my office,” Sona pouted. “Make sure it isn’t too messy!” Martin chuckled, seeing the surprised faces of his tent mates. They obviously thought that spies didn’t know how to tease. It had been a very fulfilling day.
***********
Tracker stumbled through the undergrowth, quietly cursing the man who had managed to pin him on the ground. He had sprained his wrist when he knocked the man off and it hurt like fire. But more than his wrist, he cursed how the three masked men managed to foul his plans. A month, wasted!

It was well after nightfall when he finally felt safe. Finding an abandoned barn, he collapsed just inside the door, breathing more from anger than exertion. For the second time this year, he had failed to complete a mission. Terk was not going to be happy about it. He shivered as he remembered the Mad General’s anger that he had not been able to find the prince at the Stand. Their mages had been killed and the Seacats refused to associate with them any longer. Evan’s Stand was a blight on his record. Now with this, the Stand still fresh in the minds of his superior, there was a very good chance that he would be reassigned back into Venter while a more youthful spy took a hand against…

Wait, he thought, remembering the man who pinned him. There’s a new Alex. Terk can’t send me back. I’m the only one who knows about the new Alex.

Even as he thought of the Alex, he had to suppress a new shiver. It had been a long time since he had been beaten in a fight, the last one had been when Suit was about to take up the Spy Master title. But this new Alex… Never had he come across anyone with that speed and skill. That man was easily the best fighter he had ever met. And that scared him.

I’ve got to warn Terk, he thought, pulling out a small mirror.

“Thus I need to relate,” he whispered to it, “Thus I need to report.”

The mirror fogged up and showed a different scene. He couldn’t tell much of the room, other than it had stone walls, but the face that filled the mirror was what he focused on. It was an older face, lined with experience and eyes black with cunning. While not much terrified him, General Terk did.

“Tracker?” the general’s oily voice came through. “What is it? Did you complete your mission?”

“There’s been a complication.” Tracker braced himself for the blow up.

“What complication?” Terk asked, his tone too even to be calm.

“It’s the Alex,” Tracker reported. “They’ve enlisted him to help protect the men.”

“Suit’s an old man.”

Tracker shook his head. “Suit named a new Alex.”

Terk frowned, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “And do you find him a threat?”

“There’s a very good possibility that he’s better than Suit,” he drew out, not wanting to admit that there was another who was better than him. “He’s foiled my plan. I suggest going to plan B. It’s the only way to get around the Alex.”

Terk glared thoughtfully. “Perhaps you are right…” He focused on him through the mirror. “Did the Alex see your face?”

“I’m afraid so.” Tracker braced for the order to return.

“Well then,” Terk said, “You’re just going to have to return to my camp and tell me all about him. You’re dismissed.” As the mirror fogged, the general smiled. Tracker quaked. It was never good when the general smiled.
*****************
I’m greatly looking forward to next week’s post. A character is going to show up that’s going to start a chain reaction of events. The next sixty pages of Martin’s story is going to be big. Enjoy that tidbit!

Var’s Secret

What an exciting week it has been for me. I got a job offer, I learned that I got an A- in Nutritional Biochemistry (considered the hardest dietetic class there is), and I learned the dangers of reading. More of that in the conclusion. But to the story!

************
Sona called for a meeting. Luke thought it was about time too. It had been a week since they copied the decipher off of Var’s ankle and it was getting very close for Var’s meeting with his contact. It didn’t help matters that Martin disappeared during the lunch times, though he suspected that he knew where the prince was spending his time.

“She’s going to be mad at you,” Luke tried to point out as he, Martin, and Thomas made their way to Sona’s office. “You’re holding back the most vital piece of information about her search. She’s not going to easily forgive that.”

“Luke,” Martin said, rolling his eyes. “We’ve been over this. I will explain it to her, privately, before telling everyone else. And if it does turn out that she hates me afterwards, then she doesn’t need to worry about seeing me anymore, because I will step away.”

“So you say,” Luke snorted. “But what if…”

“Luke,” Thomas sighed. “You’ve beaten this subject to death now. I’m sure it’ll work out.”

“Oh?” Luke asked, turning the corner. “And what about your own relationship?”

Thomas sighed again. “The queen said that I’ll have to work that out with Kriste…”The duke stopped short, paling as he realized who he had just said. Luke froze mid step, staring at the duke.

“My sister?” he had trouble to say, his mind whirling. “My twin sister? She’s the one you’re courting?” Thomas didn’t say anything, too scared to reveal anymore.

“And she knows about his family,” Martin added, smirking.

“Bah!” Luke said, throwing his arms into the air. “What is with the romance all of a sudden?”

“We’re growing up,” Martin pointed out. “Just because you refuse to grow up doesn’t mean that the rest of us have that same pleasure.” Luke glared at his friend. The prince did have a point.

“Let’s go to the meeting,” Luke muttered, trying to save face. It was bad enough that he had sworn to keep Martin’s identity a secret. But learning that his friends were busy moving on with their lives was even worse. While he sometimes thought he would like to settle down with a wife and steady spying job, he didn’t think now was the time. There was so much to live for right now that being tied down just did not fit in with his plans.

Sona was impatiently waiting for them and quickly ushering them into her office, even with only a swift kiss on Martin’s cheek. Luke raised an eyebrow; she must be excited. Normally they wouldn’t show their affection in the open. A pair of lovers, while not uncommon at the mansion, were noted and gossiped about. Both Martin and Sona had a reputation of not-interested to live up to.

“What is it?” Thomas asked, sitting down in his customary chair.

“Frustrating,” she said, rolling her eyes. Walking to her desk, she picked up a stack of papers and gave a paper to each of them. Luke immediately recognized what it was. Var’s coded letters.

“I hate to say this,” Sona sighed, sitting down in her chair. “But Var is innocent.”

Luke wasn’t the only one who frowned in confusion.

“Innocent?” Martin asked, finally sitting down himself. “How is he innocent?”

“I’ve decoded a total of ten letters,” she explained, pointing to the papers she gave them. “Five of them he had written and the other five from someone signed Merry Hunting.” She held up one letter. “Var says in his first letter: ‘I cannot be part of your organization any longer. Our ties are cut. They have been cut since you killed that innocent girl. I will not be part of your bloodshed any longer. I’ve left for Aeterna to live my life out as a glassmith, like I was sent there to do. Now leave me alone.’”

She sighed, dropping the letter. “They argue throughout the entire correspondence. Hunting tries to convince Var to return to the organization and spy on those here at the mansion, while Var keeps telling Hunting to back off.”

“Are you sure you translated it right?” Luke asked, quickly reading through the letter she gave him, one that Merry Hunting had wrote. “You said it was a difficult code to begin with…”

“I translated all the letters three times,” Sona groaned. “There’s no mistake about it.”

“What if it is a reverse code?” Thomas asked, looking up from his letter. “You know, they write the opposite of what they’re trying to say in their letters to throw off anyone who intercepts the letters?”

“I don’t think so,” Martin said, frowning as he read his letter. “Hunting asks questions about what’s happening at the mansion and all Var does is tell him to back off.”

“What about the conversation you overheard?” Luke pointed out. “It sounded pretty condemning to me.”

Martin shook his head, dropping the letter in his lap. “I thought that at first, but… Var didn’t ask for more time to get the information. Any spy who hasn’t completed their job always asks for more time. And besides, we know Var’s been spying on me, but when he talked to the contract, all he said about me was that I was Sona’s friend.”

“Great,” Luke grumbled, slumping in his chair. “All that time watching him… Wasted!”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Sona pointed out. “I’ve been able to pinpoint that Merry Hunting is a Venter agent, and I suspect that he is Var’s contact here.”

“We also know that Var will be meeting with Hunting again,” Martin added. “Sometime today, if I’m right. We just need to keep track of Var until he leads us to the real spy.”

“And where is he now?” Thomas asked.

“With his current girl,” Luke sighed. “I had to take up her cleaning duty so she could be with him for lunch.”

“Good,” Sona said, nodding sharply. “Our time on Var has not been wasted. Let’s capture the real spy.”

“You stay here,” Martin said as he stood up. “It’d look suspicious if you start wandering around the men’s tents.”

Sona had already been half way out of her chair when she sat down with a sigh. “You’re right,” she grumbled. She looked up with concern. “Just be careful, alright?”

Martin flashed a smile. “I should be. I’ve got two of the best spies with me.” They all laughed and they left her office.

“Where do you think he might be?” Thomas asked. The three of them walked fast in the direction Martin led.

“Our tent,” he said bitterly. “That’s where he’s been taking the girls.”

“Your kidding,” Luke said, stunned. “It’s a shared tent.”

“I know.”

They entered the camp and were busy talking about how they were going to track Var and how to capture his contract when Martin suddenly pulled short. Luke and Thomas were already a tent down from him when they noticed he wasn’t with them. Turning around, they saw him stopped, glaring at his feet.

“Martin?” Thomas asked, walking back. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” the Alex grumbled, acting as if he were trying to yank his feet off the ground. “I can’t move!”

“What?” Luke asked, also walking back. “What do you mean you can’t move?”

“It’s the powers,” Martin snapped, finally able to take a step back. Determined, he tried to walk forward again but could not get past the spot where he got stuck. “This doesn’t make sense,” he said, stepping back again. “The power has never stopped me from moving.”

Luke exchanged worried glances with Thomas. They had seen first hand a part of the power Martin held, but seeing it done again made both of them nervous. Luke had his doubts about the prince’s claim about having control of his powers. “Has the power done anything else like this?”

“Once,” Martin admitted. “It had taken me to the meeting Var had with his contact. Why do you ask?”

“Well,” Luke said slowly, not sure if he was getting at something. “What if… What if the powers are trying to tell you something?”

“What could it possibly be trying to tell him?” Thomas asked, waving to their surroundings. “That he should go back to Sona’s office?”

“No,” Martin said, his face paling as it dawned on him. “I would have been forced back. This is stopping me from going forward. Keep quiet a minute. I’m going to try…” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Luke stayed silent, knowing exactly what the Alex was doing. He was meditating to focus his energy and thoughts. It was how Martin had discovered his ability to feel the emotions of those around him. Perhaps he was trying to find another power? One that would tell him why the powers were stopping him in his tracks?

“Oh, no,” Martin whispered, opening his eyes. Carefully, he crept forward, finally able to move beyond the spot.

“What is it?” Thomas said, matching the Alex’s quiet tone and careful pace.

“Someone is here who shouldn’t be.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Martin came to the end of the row of tents, barely checking around the corner. “It’s Tracker.”
************
When he had opened himself up to the emotions around him, he found what he had been expecting, the same feelings the people had since he arrived. But there had to have been a reason why the powers made him stop. The only logical reason was that it hadn’t wanted him to move forward. Did it mean danger ahead? He had to focus on the heartbeats of those around him. He had felt Thomas and Luke, their concern for him hitting his conscious. And then there was something… wrong. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the wrongness, wondering what it could be.

Without warning he was suddenly in another’s mind. Just as he had seen into Jathier’s mind that winter. Only this time, it wasn’t a memory he was reliving. It was actually happening.

“I don’t care what Var said,” the man who’s eyes he was seeing through. “He knows something.” The man turned his head, showing him three other men and a woman who walked with him. They were approaching his tent. The man turned to the woman. She was wearing a servant’s dress.

“Are you sure that Jordan would get everyone here?” he asked her.

The girl, a plump young woman with golden curls, tossed her head indignantly. “Of course I’m sure. I’ve got the farm boy wrapped around my finger. He would jump through fire for me. He’ll have his tent mates there.”

The man chuckled, thoughts of ruin and destruction filling his thoughts. “Good. Let’s give them a rude greeting.” He pulled the canvas tent door aside, revealing his tent mates standing in the center of the tent, arguing with Jordan. Var paled with fear as he saw who opened the door.

“Tracker,” he whispered.

Martin pulled back into his own mind, reeling a bit. “Oh, no,” he whispered. With the knowledge of the danger ahead, he was able to creep forward, not daring to move any faster.

“What is it?” Thomas asked, reaching him.

“Someone is here who shouldn’t be.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Martin looked around the corner of a tent, watching as his three tent mates were physically forced out of their tent, struggling as the three other men held them fast. Jordan was openly weeping as he realized that the woman who he fell in love with was actually a Venter spy. “It’s Tracker.”

“Tracker?” Luke whispered, also looking around the corner. “Are you sure?”

“That man with the dark hair,” Martin said, nodding to the average sized man. “That’s him. I saw him at the Stand this winter. There’s no mistake. That’s Tracker.”

“Hiethery,” Luke swore, watching as the men dragged his tent mates away. “What are we going to do?”

“They can’t escape through the gates,” Thomas said, flinching as Calvin was punched in the gut and a gag forced into his mouth. “There’s got to be another way…”

“They can’t escape during the daylight either,” Martin said. “Someone would spot them. I’d bet anything that they’ll hide on the mansion grounds until its safe to move.”

“But what’s their motive?” Luke asked, pulling back around the corner.

“Get information,” Martin suggested. “Var wasn’t willing to give it and security has been tight.”

“We’ve got to do something,” Thomas said urgently. “Can we take them?”

“Perhaps,” Martin sighed. “But I don’t want to risk it. Let’s go to the commander of the guards. If we give him the information, he’s sure to search the grounds.”

“Finally,” Luke said, grinning. “You’re finally letting someone else do the work! Come on, I know where the commander is.”

They rushed through the mansion to get to Commander Bentley’s office. It was found above the stables and stank of hey and horse manure. He was an older man, in his late sixties, with graying hair and a look of annoyance etched in the lines of his face. He looked up briefly from his paperwork as they were grated entrance.

“Luke Ander is it?” he asked, squinting through his spectacles at the tall spy. “Commander Petra’s cousin. What is it?”

“Sir,” Luke said, saluting. “I’ve come to report that there are unfriendly persons on the estate grounds and intend harm to our listed men.”

“Proof?” the commander asked lazily.

“We’ve seen Var Bontaren, Calvin Armour, and Jordan the farmer taken by…”

Bentley snorted, collapsing in his chair. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Luke stepped back, shocked. “Sir?”

“I’ve gotten this prank before,” the commander growled. “Servants paid by others to come to me and tell me someone is missing. I’ve already wasted my recourses on these pranks. I’ve had enough of it.”

“But sir,” Martin tried to explain when the commander pounded the desk, sending the papers he was working on flying through the air.

“I told you!” he snapped, shooting to his feet. “I’ve had enough! Oh, yes, I know about you, Ghost. I’ve heard about what a hero you’ve been. But you listen to me, upshot, I. Won’t. Listen. Be a hero on your own time. Not on mine. Understood?”

Martin stared at the man, shocked that the commander would be so angry. “But sir!”

“No,” the commander snapped. He angrily pointed to the door. “Out! Before I have you thrown out!”

Luke and Thomas looked ready to argue when Martin motioned them to keep quiet. The commander’s emotions were high. Anger, frustration, but mostly, exhaustion. The poor man was near the end of his wits. “Let’s go,” he said, turning to leave.

“But Martin!” Thomas tried to argue but the words died on his tongue as Martin glared at him.

“Now.”

Without asking why, they left the commander’s office, going down to the stables.

“We can’t convince him,” Martin told them before they could ask. “He’s not willing to listen.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Luke asked, looking angry.

“We can go to the queen,” Martin pointed out. “She’ll listen to us.”

“But she isn’t here,” Thomas said. Martin and Luke frowned, turning to the duke.

“She isn’t here?” Martin asked. “Why not?”

“Because the surrounding nobility have been complaining,” Thomas explained, rolling his eyes. “She’s spent too much time here. She and Lord Grelend left early this morning for a short week trip around the other estates. I thought you knew.”

“She didn’t mention it to any of us,” Luke said, looking worried.

Martin started to pace. This was not going well. The queen was out of the mansion, the commander of the guards at his wits end, and Venter’s top spy had kidnapped his tent mates. He felt the need to do something; he couldn’t stand by and let these things happen.

“Alright,” he said, spinning around to his friends. “We’ve got to save Jordan and the others.”

“We?” Luke repeated, digging his finger in his ear. “And here I thought you were going to step away from the danger…”

“I stepped away because I thought someone else would step up,” Martin pointed out. “Now we’ve got to act. Thomas. Do you still have the stealth uniforms Suit gave us for just in case?”

“Of course,” the duke replied.

“It’s time for just in case.” Thomas nodded, knowing that arguing was pointless. He had a plan and it was time to act. The duke practically ran out of there, leaving Martin with Luke.

“Is this a good idea?” Luke asked, fidgeting. “You’re putting yourself in danger… Have you ever really come against Tracker? You know the man is ruthless.”

Martin wanted to scowl; leave it to Luke to point out what he already knew. But they didn’t have much choice; they had to save his tent mates. He had to convince his friend they had to do this. “I haven’t actually fought with him,” he admitted. “But I know enough about Tracker to know to be careful. I won’t get caught.” He had to take a deep breath, reluctant to say what he had to. “Even if it means I have to use my powers to get away.”

Luke froze, staring at him in disbelief. “You mean… You’d reveal yourself to get away?”

Martin tried to smile. “If I have to.”

Luke didn’t say anything for a moment, staring at him as if looking for the truth in what he said. “Alright,” he said, nodding firmly. “We’ll do it. What do you need from me?”

“Get as many weapons as you can for the three of us,” Martin ordered. “Bows, arrows, knives. Get any of your poisons that are ready to use. I think we’ll need them.”

“Right,” Luke agreed, turning to go. He paused and turned back. “And what will you be doing?”

“I’m going to tell Sona to go after the queen,” he said. “The queen will listen to us. But since she isn’t here, we need to go send for her. Sona’s the best chance we have of getting to the queen.”

“Good,” Luke chuckled. “Send your girlfriend out of danger. She’ll love you!”

Martin felt himself go red in the face. “Get going!” he ordered, pointing. Luke laughed as he ran to get his things. Martin ran after him, quickly parting paths as they entered the mansion. Luke headed for the quest quarters while he ran for the researcher’s office. He found her sitting at her desk, working on something. She looked up in surprise as he threw the door open.

“Martin?” she started to ask.

“Sona, I need you to go get the queen.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“Tracker is here.”

The pretty researcher paled. “Tracker?” she repeated, fear in her voice. “He’s here?”

“Yes,” Martin said, itching to run back out. “And the commander of the guards won’t listen to us. The queen is out…”

“I can get out of the mansion,” Sona finished for him, already out of her chair and walking out. “Give me a summary of what I should tell the queen.”

Martin silently blessed that Sona wasn’t as teasing as Luke. “Tell her that Tracker is on the estate grounds and he’s kidnapped my tent mates. Luke, Thomas, and I are going to try to go after them.”

“Alright,” she nodded. She glanced briefly out into the hall to make sure no one was there. Taking a step up to him, she gave him a swift kiss. “Be safe.” Before he could tell her he would try, she was gone. Martin blessed her again. She knew the need for action better than most.

Racing back through the mansion, he found his friends at Thomas’s guest quarters. Thomas and Luke had already put on their stealth uniforms, black loose fitting clothing with matching black mask. They were busy strapping on throwing knives as he burst in and shut the door.

“Great timing,” Luke said, tossing his uniform at him. “We’re about ready.”

“Though we are a bit curious,” Thomas said as Martin ducked behind a changing screen and started changing into the uniform. “How are we going to find them? Tracker is known for covering his tracks…”

“I know,” Martin sighed, pulling the uniform shirt over his head. “But I can find them.”

“Using your powers?”

Martin came out from behind the screen, accepting the knives from Luke. “I was able to feel Tracker earlier,” he explained, strapping the blades on his legs. “I doubt I could forget such a vile mind.”

“Wait,” Luke said, pausing as he pulled out a poison kit. “You were inside Tracker’s head?”

“It’s not the best place to spend any extended amount of time.”

“But,” Thomas said, picking up a spear, his favorite weapon. “You can still find him?”

Martin took a deep breath, opening himself up to the emotions around him. The wrongness that he felt in Tracker was still inside the estate walls, motionless for now. “Let’s go,” he said, pulling the door open.
************
Tee, hee, hee. Aren’t cliffhangers fun? (unless it’s another book you’re reading and the author takes five years to write the next book. Humph! No I’m not miffed at all about Green Rider! NO!) At least you only have to wait a week until the next bit. But that’s next week’s post. Now, if you’ll forgive me, I’d like to elaborate the dangers of reading.

Reading is a dangerous pastime for me. I know that sounds a bit strange, especially when one considers how I write for fun, but it’s still true. Unlike other “normal” people, I have a very difficult time putting a book down until I’m done reading it; it is not uncommon for me to read until one or two in the morning with a good book. It’s even worse with series. I started the Belgariad series Sunday night and finished all five books by Wednesday morning (1:30 in the morning). I’ve this compulsiveness need to read when I pick up a book.

And then what’s worse! I get story ideas as I’m reading. It’s only started happening in the last couple of years, when I started to seriously write. But now, even while I’m enjoying the book, my mind is inflamed with this new idea! (At least, until the next story idea hits). The Belgariad story produced two. One idea I’m sure I could fit in a short story, so I won’t elaborate on it, but the second idea…. That one has a lot of potential. Here’s the gist: The prophesied hero fulfills his destiny, and then vanishes.

Pause. I hear groans… Another distraction from Martin’s story? I’d like to put this to rest. Martin still inflames my imagination, but when I finished the Secret’s Captive last week, I realized that I was finally working on the last book. This journey Martin has taken me on for the last ten years is coming to a close. It may be a couple of years before I get to the close, but I see it coming. I’m not sure how I feel about that….

So, with the ending now visible to me, I have started a new file, called Story Ideas. This file will contain all the story ideas I come up with. I’ll write a bit about the various story ideas that come to me, then let it sit in that file as I continue to write Martin’s story.

There is a point I’m getting to. I’m trying to decide what I’ll write after the Aeterna’s Heir. At first, I thought I’d work on The Runaways (the first Renewal Spell in Aeterna, in case you were wondering), but then Fiction Riders intrigued me (authors literally enter their books), then the Dawmeria Soul caught my attention, after that was Racer, and now A Hero’s Wish (the one mentioned above). Oh, and I almost forgot about The Child From Loman, Martin’s story about his street days. Sigh! Sooo many ideas…. Little time….

My point. While I consider this problem of what to write next, I want you to be aware of these other story ideas. I’m probably going to post them on this blog for reaction to the ideas. Comment on them if you want, or just roll your eyes, I don’t care. Just throwing them out there. They’re going to be sitting in my Story Ideas file until I finally decide what to do with them.

Whew! I’m glad I got that out. Now you’ll understand why I’m posting story ideas that aren’t part of my current series and you won’t be so concerned about them.

Merry Christmas everyone! Enjoy the journey!

Deciphers and Dates

Yeah! Finals are over! I think in celebration I’m going to do a longer post than usual (and that it worked out better to extend this post anyway). Whew! Stop rambling. To the story!
********
The lesson with Queen Abigail bothered Martin greatly. Oh, he already knew the answers to the regular questions the men had asked. Any amount of time researching could reveal those answers. No, he had been bothered by what he should ask. He debated asking about courtship, especially when Sona was flirting with him more now than ever, but he figured he could have someone else ask that. He had seen the queen’s look of surprise when she realized that the men actually worried about Santer life more than noble life. No doubt she would now go to all the classes and give them the chance to ask her questions. Martin was fairly certain he could even get Jordan to ask the courtship question for him.

So that left other disturbing questions for him to ask. What was she planning on doing to him when she found out he was the prince? Was he going to be whisked to Nacre? More training? What about his past? He wasn’t willing to tell people he was a street urchin from Loman. And then what about the powers?

Martin clearly remembered earlier in the day when the powers literally forced him to walk away from what he was doing to do something else. While he had learned much from the conversation he overheard, he did not like that he was forced to it. It made him feel like a pawn and that did not sit well with him. He finally decided on that question. He did have stronger powers. How could the queen teach him when she was so much weaker than him?

She is right though, Martin grudgingly admitted. The queen had her powers longer and understood the little she had. She would be able to help him a little…

Sona suddenly emerged from her office, locking it up for dinner. Martin’s thoughts on his Santer powers left as he remembered what he saw on Var’s ankle.

“Sona,” he hailed, quickly walking over to her. The pretty researcher turned around and smiled as he approached. Before she could greet him in return, he leaned close to her ear and whispered. “I’ve found it.”

“It?” she repeated, confused.

“Var’s decipher,” Martin whispered, making sure no one was watching them. “It wasn’t an object. It’s a tattoo on his ankle.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, looking excited.

“Yes,” he answered. “I saw him use it in class.”

“No wonder we couldn’t find it,” she muttered, her eyes distant as she thought. “A tattoo… We’re going to have to copy it.”

“Ask Luke about something to put Var to sleep,” Martin suggested. “We don’t want him to know we’ve got him.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Sona agreed. “Get going. You still have to eat then have fencing. We’ll talk to you afterwards.”

Martin nodded and left, wondering what plan his two friends would come up with. It was frustrating to sit through dinner acting as if nothing was going on. Then he had to suffer through the fencing class and his private one afterwards. While he still wasn’t used to Fall’s teaching methods, he was slowly improving. At least he wasn’t landing on his back as often.

“You’re getting there,” Fall said cheerfully after Martin finally managed to perform a moderately difficult block. “Not the fastest learner I’ve taught, but you are getting there! You should be proud of yourself. Let’s go over it again.”

Martin glared but said nothing and took the standard stance again. Pride often brought people down. It was action that matter, not boasting.

“Looks as if you have friends coming,” Fall said, falling out of the stance and looking across the courtyard. Martin turned to see Luke and Sona watching from the sidelines. “I guess this means we’ll have to cut our session short,” the sword master said, taking Martin’s practice sword away. “Go do what you must.” Martin nodded curtly and strolled over to his two friends.

“Thank you,” he said when he approached. “You got me off early. Perhaps you should come visit me more often.”

“No can do,” Luke said, grinning. “I’ve got Thomas to watch over and Sona’s too busy with work.” A small jerk of the tall spy’s head told him that they needed to move. Together they left, using the less used halls to get away.

“What have you come up with?” Martin asked, knowing that no one was listening.

“This.” Luke produced a small bag from his vest, holding it out. “It’s a sleeping powder that dissolves in water and forms a gas. Anyone in the enclosed area with this in the air will fall right asleep.”

“That’s great,” Martin said, frowning. “But we sort of need to be awake when we copy the tattoo…”

“The gas only lasts half an hour,” Luke assured him. “Though the effects last for six hours. We come by after it is gone and copy the tattoo.”

“You’ll need to deliver it though,” Sona added, walking quickly to match Luke’s and Martin’s long strides. “I was thinking that we do it tonight.”

Martin switched his gaze between Luke and Sona. “Wait… You want me to put all my tent mates to sleep?”

“We don’t want anyone waking up when we come,” Sona pointed out. “It’s safer to have them all knocked out.”

“You realize that I’m also in that tent. I’ll be put to sleep when I let this stuff off.”

“Don’t worry,” Luke scoffed. “I have the antidote. I promise that we’ll wake you up so you don’t miss all the fun.” He handed the bag to Martin. “Put out all the lights in your tent to let us know that you’ve put the powder in water. We’ll wait a half hour before entering, wake you, and copy the tattoo. No one will ever guess we were there.”

“Thanks,” Martin said dryly, stashing the bag in his pocket. “I’ll see you when I wake up.”

When he arrived at his tent, the others were already there. Jordan was sitting on the edge of his cot, looking earnestly at Var and Calvin. The merchant and glassmith both seemed annoyed by it.

“What else was asked?” Jordan was asking when Martin entered the tent.

“Martin had an interesting question,” Var sneered. “But I don’t think we should worry about it. Why should the prince bother learning about his powers? I mean, shouldn’t it be a natural thing to use those powers. He’s had them all his life.”

Martin controlled his expression to uninterested, but he really wanted to scowl. My powers were blocked! How is suddenly having them natural? But he said nothing and dropped onto his bed, not even changing. The others talked for a bit, pretending that he hadn’t even entered the tent. They had come to expect him to be exhausted each night when he returned from his private lessons with Fall. Usually Martin did fall asleep when he returned, but not now. He waited until he heard the others begin climbing into their own beds when he got up.

Pretending to get a drink of water, he listened for them to get settled before pouring the powder into his cup of water.

“Good night all,” he whispered, blowing out the last lantern by the water, plunging the tent into darkness. Taking slow breaths, he returned to his cot, laid on top, and felt the effects of the gas take hold. The others, he knew from the snores, were already fast asleep. He had one last thought before he was taken under.

I hate getting poisoned.
**************
“And there goes the light,” Luke yawned as the light finally went out in Martin’s tent. Sona tried not to fidget as they waited out of sight around the corner of another tent.

“Do you think he’s alright?” she asked softly. Martin didn’t seem very thrilled when he figured out that he was to be poisoned himself.

“He’s fine,” Luke brushed off. The tall spy sat down on the ground, stretched his hands over his head before locking his fingers together and resting his hands behind his head. He leaned back against a tent pole. “Oh, he doesn’t like getting poisoned, but he’ll do it anyway.”

“That’s true,” she reluctantly admitted. She wouldn’t have expected any less from their Alex. Though knowing he didn’t like getting poisoned did get her thinking. What other things did he do that he would rather not?

They waited for the half hour and then some. Luke warned that his calculations might have been a bit off about how long the gas would remain. When she asked him why he hadn’t warned the Alex, he tried to mimic Martin’s shrug. “Because I didn’t want to worry him. He has too much on his mind already.”

Mindful of anyone outside, they stole across a row of tents to get to Martin’s. As Luke predicted, all of the men were sleeping, oblivious to their entry. She was quick to see the Alex laying on top of his cot, still clothed in the attire they had last seen him in. However, before they could wake him, they checked on the other three men.

“My poison took,” Luke whispered cheerfully. “Good to know that the day-in, day-out of cleaning hasn’t ruined my hands.”

“Good for you,” Sona whispered back, jerking her head to where the Alex still slept. “How about waking him up?”

Luke pulled a thin tube from his vest, uncorking it. Suddenly he grinned. “Hey, how about you kiss the sleeping prince into wakefulness?”

“Luke!” she exclaimed, strangling to keep her voice down, knowing her face was beet red. She went to grab the cylinder.

“Come on,” he teased, easily holding it out of her reach. “I know you want to. It’s an enchanted sleep after all.”

“Be serious!” she hissed, finally jumping and getting the tube. Shooting a glare at the chuckling spy, she sat on the edge of Martin’s cot and waved the opening under his nose. He groaned a bit, tilting his head to the side away from the tube. Sona kept waving it until he coughed. She pulled it back as he reached up and rubbed his nose.

“By the Seven Founders!” he swore quietly, propping himself up on his elbows. “Luke! You forgot to tell me that the antidote smells! Ugh! What is it? Rotting fish?”

“That’s one ingredient,” the tall spy smirked. “Now that you’re awake, let’s get the job done.”

Martin glared at the spy but managed to sit up right. After a moment of rubbing his nose again, he got up and came to Var’s cot. Luke busied himself with lighting a lantern as Sona got out her pencil and paper. Uncovering the sleeping glassmith, Martin took the man’s right ankle, pulling the pants back to show the tattoo.

Just a glance told Sona that Martin was right. It was the decipher. Kneeling down, she quickly copied it, herself a very good drawer. It was an interesting decipher; it was like a bulls eye, with three rings. The outer ring had symbols while the inner two had writing characters.

“I can’t believe it,” she muttered, working fast.

“What is it?” Luke asked, holding the light over their head for light.

“It’s a simple code, but it’s not at the same time.”

“Like that made sense.”

“I recognize the inner code,” Martin said, “The outer letter is substituted for one underneath it, but why the symbols?”

“The inner code isn’t that,” Sona whispered, finishing her drawing. “It may look like that, but it’s not. It’s the symbols that dictate the code.”

“Alright,” Luke said, still not following.

“The symbols are an ancient code,” she explained. “They’re actually numbers. I’m guessing that the symbols dictate how many times he has to count on the inner ring from the second ring letter to get the one he wants.”

“And let me guess,” Martin sighed, “When the symbol changes on the message, so does the number that he has to count?”

“Exactly,” she said, growing excited. “With this, I should be able to decode his letter in just a couple of hours!” She paused, watching as Martin positioned the glassmith to how he was. “Brilliant, really,” she added, slipping her copy of the decipher into her satchel. “A tattoo is always dismissed as a decoration; not something useful.”

“Wonderful,” Martin yawned. “Work on it in the morning, can you? I’m exhausted.” He gave Luke a glare before the tall spy blew the lantern out. “I hope that isn’t a side effect of the gas you gave me.”

“It’s not,” Luke assured in the darkness. “They’ll wake up feeling fresher than a spring morning. I’m sorry that you won’t though. You were forced out of your sleep. You may have a headache for the rest of the night.”

Martin groaned. “Thanks. I’ve always enjoyed getting poisoned.”
**********
Thomas had to wait until lunch to get the details of the night’s work. He wished he had been along. Anything was better than spending the evening listening to Lynne talk about her father’s health. Not that he didn’t worry about the lord, but he could only take so much about hearing of Grelend’s gout problem.

“So then Sona started copying the decipher,” Luke was saying. His two friends and him decided to eat outside of the dinning tent, where the hot bodies combined with the hot food and weather to make it almost unbearable to eat. They sat under the shade of a large tree, enjoying the sandwiches Luke had taken from the kitchens so they didn’t have to enter the dinning tent to get their food. “She explains what it is…”

“It’s a number code,” Martin said, covering a yawn. He seemed still a bit tired from the night before. “You know, how you have to count down the letters in the alphabet to get to the letter you want. Only it has two alphabets that you have to count from.”

“As I said,” Luke interrupted, swallowing a bite of food. “She explains it, and we left.” He chuckled a bit, wiping crumbs from his mouth. “She’s probably busy working on that code right now.”

“You can’t blame her,” Thomas pointed out. “She’s been trying to whittle down who the prince is and the queen won’t let her dismiss any of the men.”

Martin choked on his bite, coughing to clear his throat. “You mean,” he said, coughing the last bit out. “Sona’s trying to remove men? What evidence does she have?”

“She’s read up on Santer magic,” Thomas explained. “She was at it nearly all winter. She may know more about your magic than the queen does.”

“That’s delightful to know,” Martin grumbled. “Now I have to be extra careful around her.”

“Oh,” Luke teased, slapping the Alex on the back, “don’t be so worried. The longer you don’t react to her flirting, the more money I get!”

Martin frowned, giving their tall friend a confused look. “What do you mean? What money?”

“He’s talking about the bet the Tree has about you and Sona,” Thomas explained with a yawn. “You know us spies, we gossip about everything, and the two of you are a great source. Everyone is either holding out for you to not court her while the others are saying that Sona will get you.” He laughed, remembering when the queen heard about it. “Even the queen made a bet!”

Martin froze, putting on his unreadable mask. “The queen made a bet?”

“Yep,” Luke chuckled. “Her bet is a bit overdue, but that happens. Personally, my bet was placed on you’d be too scared to ask our researcher out.”

Their friend didn’t answer, rubbing his face in thought. “If the queen made a bet…” Suddenly he stood and walked purposefully for the mansion.

“Hey!” Luke called after, scrambling to his feet and catching up, he pulled in front of the Alex and stopped him. “Where are you going?” Thomas also got up, recognizing the determined expression Martin wore.

“I think,” the duke answered before the Alex, awed, “that he’s going to ask her out!”

Luke looked confused for a moment before it also hit him. Spinning around, he grabbed Martin by the shoulders. “Martin,” he said tensely, “don’t do it.”

“Why not?” Martin asked, smirking. “The queen sees no problem with it.” Brushing Luke’s hands aside, he went again for the mansion. Luke gave him a worried look before following after the Alex.

Oh, dear, Thomas thought with a sigh, following after the two. Luke wasn’t going to win this fight; once Martin had his mind on something, it took a lot to get him to change his mind.

He could have waited until after lunch, he thought as they came to the hall Sona’s office was. Then we wouldn’t have abandoned lunch. But neither of his friends seemed too concerned about food at the moment. Luke was still trying to convince the Alex to walk away in a low whisper that people couldn’t hear, while Martin just ignored him.

“Listen,” Martin said, pulling up short a few doors away from the researcher’s. “I know that you’re concerned. You have every right. But what is wrong with this?”

“Everything,” Luke said through his teeth, his head whipping around to make sure they were alone. “You are the prince! You have a duty to this nation....”

“Santers have married commoners before.”

“That was hundreds of years ago,” Luke pointed out. “We live in modern times when nobles marry nobles, and commoners keep their noses out of it. Do you think that she’ll respond favorably when you tell her the truth?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I guess I’ll find out.” They all turned when the lady in question left her office. Giving them a don’t-try-to-stop-me look, Martin purposefully walked away.

“Sona!” he hailed, stopping the researcher. Sona paused, turned, and smiled as he approached. They were too far away for Thomas and Luke to hear what they were saying; but judging from Sona’s lightening expression and Martin’s relaxed stance, the Alex was laying on some heavy flirting.

“He wouldn’t,” Luke whispered, looking worried. “He shouldn’t…”

“I don’t think we can apply normal prince rules to him,” Thomas pointed out. “There’s no way that he can be a traditional prince.”

“But what if…” Luke stopped short, turning a bit white. Thomas turned around to see the queen approaching them.

“What’s happening here?” she asked as they bowed to her. She glanced down the hall where Martin was still talking to Sona. The researcher was laughing at something he had just said.

“Well,” Thomas coughed, exchanging nervous glances with Luke. “I think… Martin’s asking Sona out.”

Queen Abigail spun on them, eyes wide. “Really?”

At that moment, even from their distance, they heard Sona’s squeal of surprise. Her face lit up, nodding happily. Though Martin’s back was to them, they could also tell that he was smiling. After a few more words, the researcher laughed and walked away, a distinct bounce in her step. Martin finally turned around and joined them again, the smirk on his lips revealing his success.

“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing to her when he joined them. “May I request a pass for all of tomorrow? One for Sona as well?”

Abigail grinned; she looked as if she wanted to clap in excitement. “Of course!”

Thomas coughed politely, snapping his fingers at Luke. “You owe me.”

Grumbling, Luke reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin, grudgingly tossing it at the duke. “Thank you!” Thomas said cheerfully, about to pocket the coin when the queen also coughed, holding her hand out.

“I believe both of you owe me,” she said sweetly, grinning. Thomas sighed and handed over his won coin while Luke grumbled again to find another coin.
************
Martin waited in the stables for Sona to turn up, the written pass from the queen held in his hands. He kept checking the papers, knowing that everything was in order. The guards at the gate wouldn’t stop them from going into the town. But still he was nervous.

I have every right to be nervous, he thought. It’s my first date. Now that was an odd thought he still wasn’t used to. To get his mind off of it, he decided to check on Rowan. The elven horse was still as content as could be, especially after Martin had gotten up early to ride him. It did both of them good to ride out their extra energy after being cooped up for so long. Not that it really helped Martin. He was more nervous than before.

“Martin!”

He turned around to find Sona quickly crossing the stables. He felt the blush heat his face. She always looked very pretty, but today it seemed as if she took extra effort to enhance her beauty. She wore a nice green dress that nicely fit her figure with a dark red sash as a belt. Her hair, while normally pulled back in a bun or tail, cascaded down her back in soft curls. But it was that sincere smile that brightened her face and lit those green eyes that made him blush.

“Sona,” he finally said, finding his tongue. He left Rowan’s stall and closed the door, smiling at the pretty researcher. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” she said, blushing. She looked him up and down. Martin suddenly wished he had something nicer to wear, but all he had were tanned pants, dark blue shirt, and a grey vest. They were the only clothes he had that didn’t look as if he had spent his days on the road. He had briefly considered asking Calvin if he could borrow something of his, but dismissed the idea. Calvin was at least a half foot shorter than him and he would have looked ridiculous with his clothes too short.

“You look nice,” she said, eyeing the papers in his hand. “You got the passes?”

“The queen herself signed it,” Martin said, handing over her pass. “Did you know about the bet that was going around the Tree about us?”

Sona frowned as they started walking toward the gate. “No, I wasn’t aware.” Then it dawned on her as she connected the dots. “The queen made a bet?”

“A very good one too apparently,” he chuckled. “She collected her money from Luke and Thomas.” She laughed. It wasn’t too long that they arrived at the gate and showed their papers to the guards. The guards looked a bit surprised at Sona’s papers, then stared at Martin. Even the guards heard of Sona’s rule of no touching. Curious, Martin opened himself to their emotions, allowing the shock and wonder hit him. These men probably wondered how he managed to get Sona to agree to this outing. Giving them a discrete wink that Sona couldn’t see, Martin led the researcher out of the mansion ground and into the town.

“So what are we planning on doing?” Sona asked as they wandered through the streets. The small city of Salmon was a lot like other towns. It surrounded the gate of the lord’s estates and was bursting with energy. People worked and played around them, continuing their lives as if there wasn’t anything important happening at the mansion.

There was one oddity of the city, however. There were a lot more inns and merchant houses than normal. This was due to the excellent position the town had to the nearby Raven Pass. Merchants from both sides of the pass found this place to be the ideal location for merchant festivals and market selling.

“Well,” Martin said, his destination in mind after talking with Calvin the night before, “I hear that a traveling festival has showed up a few days ago and they set up shop just outside of town. I thought it might be fun…”

“A circus?” she asked, looking excited. “I haven’t seen one in years! Not since I joined the network! Oh, thank you!” Martin laughed and extended his arm to her.

“Then let’s not waste time wandering here.” She grinned and took his arm.

Despite it being still fairly early in the morning, there were already a lot of people at the circus. They had to wait a half hour in line to get to the ticket booth to buy their entrance. But once they were inside, the crowds gave away as the circus opened up to their different attractions. Sona was grinning broadly, trying to look at everything at once. Martin, however, was a bit more reserved, though he did notice everything around him. Even the pickpocket who was busy stealing from the man behind them.

“I don’t know what to do first,” she said, tugging on Martin’s arm. “How about some games?”

“Sure,” he said with a shrug, keeping note that the pickpocket had moved to a different person to rob.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, her happiness dimmed down a bit. “Don’t you like circuses?”

“I’ve never been to one before,” he confessed.

She stared at him, shocked. “Never?”

He shrugged. “I’ve always been too busy.”

“Well then,” she said, taking a firmer grip on his arm. “I just need to show you how fun they are!”

The first stop she had him try were the games. There were at least a hundred games to play, each, he noticed, a bit skewed against the players. When he mentioned it to Sona, she just chuckled.

“I know they cheat a bit,” she brushed off. “But it is fun trying to win.” Martin just shook his head. How was being cheated fun? The last game Sona said they would play was a tossing game. Martin wondered briefly why should would pick this game, since there were a dozen more like it, when he saw her glance briefly at the prize, a very pretty handcrafted silk rose.

“Should I win that for you?” he asked. She blushed as she realized that she had been caught staring.

“I doubt you could,” she said, smiling bashfully. “But it’s a sweet thought.”

“Oh,” Martin brushed off, stepping up to the woman who ran it. “It’s no problem.” Especially if he cheated a bit too.

Taking care of his stance, he took the three balls. The point of the game was to toss the balls into the jugs. The farthest jug was the price for the silk rose. I shouldn’t win until my last ball, he thought, tossing and missing the first two balls for the jug. The woman grinned as he prepared his last ball. He had managed to close a door with his powers, even smoothed some water so he could see, getting the ball to fit in that small hole should be easy…

Focusing, he actually felt the ball in his hand with his mind. He could also feel the hole in the jug he wanted the ball to go in. It was a very strange feeling. He tossed it, careful to make it seem like a slow toss. Even as the ball left his hand, he still felt it in his mind. Directing it was easy, it followed a seemingly normal arch and landed directly into the hole. Everyone cheered as it neatly plunked into the jug. Even the woman smiled. She reached behind her and took the silk rose and gave it to him.

“For your girl,” she said, winking. “Nice touch.” Returning her smile, Martin presented the rose to Sona. She took it, wonder and pleasure in her smile as she held it.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Without warning, she hugged him. Martin didn’t remember what happened right after that, grinning as Sona told him it was time for lunch.

There were several food booths but he and Sona opted for a chilled meal of cheese and bread. They found an unused bench and talked as they ate. Martin thoroughly enjoyed spending this time with her, alone. They didn’t talk about the war, or the prince, or even other spies. They just talked about whatever came to their minds. He found out that she liked spicy foods, dancing, and riding. She in turn pulled out of him that he enjoyed reading adventure books, sailing, and that he was absolutely terrified of heights.

“You’re scared of heights?” she asked, crumpling up her used wrapper.

“Been since I as long as I can remember,” Martin said, smiling weakly. “I avoid tall places as much as possible.”

She chuckled, letting him take her wrapper. “Then I guess I shouldn’t suggest any rides for you. What should we do this afternoon?”

“You figure that out as I throw these away,” he said, standing up. When he got back, she was beaming.

“I found out that they have a zoo,” she said, taking his offered arm again. “Let’s go there.”

Martin was a bit surprised by all the animals the circus kept, even a bit more surprised that the majority of the animals were kept out of their cages, with the close eye of a performer holding a leash on them. While he was sure that the animal keepers were very good at keeping their animals under control, Martin kept his mind open to the emotions of those around them. If anything happened, he would be the first to know about it.

Walking among the animals, however, did not prove to be dangerous. There were the desert animals of the south which enjoyed the heat of afternoon by sleeping, sea creatures in their own pool of water splashing around with balls and to the enjoyment of their audience, tropical birds were kept in cages and singed sweet melodies, small animals were even sold to be pets.

But the most interesting animal both of them found were the monkeys. The monkeys were highly trained and preformed tricks for the people. Sona laughed as one monkeys landed on her shoulder and put a flower in her hair before returning to its master.

“For a pretty lady!” the man said, bowing dramatically. “May the beauty of your smile always bring joy into the world!”

“Show off,” Sona muttered to Martin as the master ordered his monkey to give a little boy a toy. “I bet he tells that to every pretty face he sees.”

“Perhaps,” Martin teased. “But you do have a pretty smile.” Then, on impulse, he took her hand in his, kissing it lightly. Sona blushed, biting her lower lip even as she smiled. After they left the monkey show, neither had let go of the others hand.

As evening fell, they grabbed another bite to eat and walked around the circus again. When Sona started stifling yawns, he gently squeezed her hand. “Perhaps we should go back,” he suggested. “We stay out here any longer and we’ll fall asleep on our feet.”

Sona chuckled, squeezing his hand back. Walking close to him, she rested her head on his shoulder. “I suppose so. It’s been a long, but fun, day.”

When they reached the mansion, they had to show their passes again to gain entrance. Apparently rumor of their going out had reached these new guards and they stared openly, disbelieving, that Sona was holding his hand. Martin pretended to ignore the stares this time, though he was really quite pleased. Yes, you don’t see wrong. Sona likes me, not you.

As Martin walked her to her rooms, found in the guest wing of the mansion, they didn’t encounter anyone else, even with his mind open to the emotions, there was no one close to see them. He didn’t mind.

“Well,” he said as they stopped at her door and she unlocked it. “Here we are. Thank you for a wonderful day.”

Sona laughed, taking his hand and squeezing it. “I should thank you. I’ve had a wonderful day.” She suddenly acted bashful, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Perhaps we should do it again?”

Martin chuckled, returning her squeeze. “Sooner than later, I hope!”

“Good,” she said, smiling. She then bit her lower lip, as if considering something. Before he could ask her what she was thinking, she stood on her toes and pressed her lips against his. Martin froze, every thought suddenly gone; it even took him a moment to realize what she was doing. She was kissing him! But before he could react, she pulled away, her face the reddest he had ever seen it.

“Good night!” she said quickly. She dashed into her room and closed the door. Martin just stood there, staring at the door, his mind too shocked to do much more. His feet started moving of their own accord, taking him back to his tent. However, when he reached the end of the hall, he paused and glanced back at her door. Then he chuckled, walking away, everything suddenly seemed right again.
*********
Sona was trying to work in the library, the decipher and several coded letters spread out on the table before her. Although she could have worked in her office, she really needed the space and windows in the library. The day was just too good to sit in a walled in office. But she really did need the space to work on the codes. Sergeant had brought her several more coded letters that Var had written; the large woman was very good at getting those letters. Though while Sona tried to work on these papers, her mind kept wandering back to the day before.

She wasn’t expecting Martin to so suddenly ask her out; she had been waiting it for some time, but to actually hear it had been a surprise. What else could she say but yes? And when he took her to the circus! It still made her smile. It had been a lot of fun showing him around, watching as he slowly relaxed out of the shell he kept around his emotions. There was a man behind the adventures she read and that man was so much more fascinating than the spy.

And then… she kissed him. Sona felt her face getting red just thinking about it. He was obviously shocked, no more than her after she realized what she had done. She had done it on an impulse. I mean, she thought, not really seeing the letter in front of her, he was the one who grabbed my hand first… But after she thought about it, once her heart stopped racing and her head cooled, she wondered if she had overstepped. He really hadn’t done anything to kiss her back…

Work, she tried to tell herself, shaking her head. I have to work on this. Even as she thought that, she wondered where Martin was today. It was midday break…

“What are you working on?”

Sona nearly jumped a foot in the air. Before she could even turn around to see Martin, he sat down beside her, grimacing a bit as he picked up one of the coded letters. She watched him nervously. He didn’t seem upset about last night’s kiss…

“Just trying to decode…” She was cut short as Martin pressed his lips against hers. Sona completely forgot what she was saying, her attention focused on him. When he broke off, she coughed slightly, trying to gather her wits.

“Well,” she said breathlessly, trying to think of something to say. “That was unexpected…”

Martin placed his elbow on the table and leaned his head against his hand, his eyes narrowing a bit though he smiled. “I’m sorry. I haven’t had much experience kissing.”

Sona chuckled softly, the meaning of his words finally making sense. So that’s why he froze last night. No one has kissed him before.

“Very well,” she sighed dramatically, matching his smirk. “You may practice on me.” She held up a hand as he leaned forward again, placing a finger on his lips. “Ah,” she went on in a low tone, “only to a certain extent will I let you practice.”

He chuckled, taking her hand so he could lean toward her again. “You’ll warn me if I get close to that extent?”

She smiled as she leaned to meet him. “You’ve seen my knives.” She stopped talking as she let him practice his kissing.
***********
That date was… interesting to write… A little sappy for me (very well; honestly, it was very sappy for me). And I don’t know much about that kissing scene. I’m still VLC so that description is a bit… strange to me. I can’t decide if I need to revise of all that yet or not. I’m just going to have to let it sit for a good couple of months before I can return to it. If I do make changes, I’ll try to let you all know.

Now with decipher in their possession, and a romance building, my characters are about to stumble onto something big. They don’t know it yet, but it is going to be huge! I think, perhaps by the end of January to mid February, it’ll all come to a head. Ah, it gives me warm fuzzy feelings when I think about it.

That’s it for this week! Enjoy the journey!

Questions and Answers

What a relaxing Dead Week this semester. Can’t always say that….

Anyway, it is Friday again and time for more story. Last week Sona carried out her threat and now the spies are out to annoy Var. Time for that development I promised and also an answer to a question that has been troubling Martin.
*************
Over the next month, Luke used the girls to pass along information to Var. Martin was pleased by the success they’ve been having on that front. Every day Var would send him a very angry glare, confirming that the information he had been getting wasn’t what he was expecting. Luke was very careful with his rumors, not wanting to have any rumors afterwards that might cause him problems later. Martin never knew exactly what rumors his tall friend was spreading, but whatever they were, they were working.

Spring gave way to summer during the month and the weather got progressively hotter. It was evident throughout the mansion and encampments. Windows where thrown open to allow even the slightest of breezes cool down the rooms. Even the tents had the canvas pulled back to reveal the interior. Martin wasn’t surprised to see just how many messy tents there were.

Near the end of the month the weather had gotten so hot that the scheduled fencing lessons were moved to either early morning before classes or in the evenings after dinner. This pushed his private lessons with Fall back into the very late evenings. Sona soon agreed that their meetings should be moved to midday when the former fencing class used to be.

Martin walked to her office, thinking about yet another disappointing meeting ahead of him. While Operation Annoy Var was proving very successful, getting information about him was slowing to a crawl. It seemed that though Var enjoyed playing with girls, he rarely told them of anything of use. Luke bitterly reported that all Var really did enjoy talking about was his work as a glassmith. And while Martin had discretely searched Var’s things twice, neither time getting caught, he hadn’t found a decipher. At their last meeting, Sona had informed him that the queen wanted a report on their spying.

“But spying takes time!” he started to argue when Sona sighed, nodding in agreement.

“I know,” she grumbled. “But she seems to think that because we’re the best, we do things quickly.”

Martin was fretting over the problem of giving a very lacking report to the queen when the strangle prickling hit him. Stopping in his tracks, he turned around, following the sense. The prickling was different this time, he couldn’t explain it. He wasn’t in trouble… but he needed to do something. Now. Wondering what it could be about, he stopped again but not of his own free will.

These powers, he started to think, annoyed when he heard two voices from a door ajar.

“I told you,” said a familiar voice. Var. “I don’t have anything!”

“Come now, Var,” purred a soft voice. Martin strained to hear it, it was too quiet to tell if it were a man or woman. “You’ve been here for a month and a half. Surely you’ve heard something…”

“I haven’t,” Var snapped. “Security is tight!”

Martin found that he could move again. Slowly, he approached the door. He wondered if he should risk trying to peek into the room, then dismissed the idea. The room was one of the classrooms. He could very easily be seen if he tried to look.

“I know it is,” the other said sourly. “But cracks can be found. You don’t need to be afraid of me, Var. You can trust me.”

Var snorted. “I don’t trust you any more than I do anyone else here. Less even.”

The other chuckled. “Can’t blame you then. A good spy trusts no one, especially his contacts.”

So Var is a spy! Martin thought, scowling. Though for whom, he couldn’t say. The contact didn’t have much of an accent, and there were other powers who were just as interested in the prince as Venter. Martin felt a bit insulted that they had sent Var though. The man was an amateur.

“I’m telling you,” Var repeated with heat in his voice. “I don’t have information! The files are kept locked and the head researcher doesn’t let people close.”

“Is that what happened to your hair?” the contact sneered. Martin allowed a small smile. Var’s current hair cut looked even sillier than the tail Sona had cut off. He had kept the long hair on top pulled back into a tail then cut the rest of the hair on the sides and back short. It looked as if he had painted a stripe of black hair on the top of his head with a feather sticking out back.

“No one else has approached her since,” Var grumbled. That was true. The men got the message quick that Sona wasn’t interested.

“The girl surely has friends,” the contract prompted.

“A duke, his silent servant, and a Ghost,” Var snorted. “And they’re harder to spy on.”

“What about the queen?”

“All she’s interested in is getting to know us,” Var sighed. “She’s currently working on her third interviews with all of us.”

“Pity,” the contact sighed. “Ah well. I’ll contact you in another week or so. Hopefully you’ll have better information other than ‘I don’t have information!’”

Var snorted. “Unlikely.”

“Very well,” the contact said. “Until next week.”

Martin moved away fast and quiet. He did not want to be seen. Spotting another empty classroom, he ducked into the room, keeping an eye out into the hall. Surprisingly, only Var exited the room. The glassmith looked irritated and stalked away in the other direction. Martin waited for a few minutes before leaving his hiding spot and checking out the room he was listening into before. It was empty. Glancing around the room, he saw another door. He silently cursed himself. That was the servant’s entrance. The contact probably used that to get away.

So the contact is probably a servant, he thought, leaving the room and once again headed for Sona’s office. The servants have orders to report anyone they don’t recognize in their halls. It was a suggestion Martin had made to the queen when they had arrived. It made life easier when others were mindful of those who shouldn’t be there.

He got to Sona’s office to find that Luke had already arrived.

“Where’s Thomas?” Martin asked, walking in without knocking. The two spies rolled their eyes and said nothing. They were too used to him entering without knocking by now.

“A pleasant luncheon with Lady Lynne,” Luke chuckled. “He tried to get out of it… And when I gave him a suggestion, he told me that it wouldn’t work.”

“What suggestion did you make?” Sona asked, trying to fight a smile.

“That he got a stomach flu,” he replied, sighing dramatically. “He said it would only give Lynne a chance to try to nurse him back to health.”

The three of them laughed. Martin sat down in a chair and grinned.

“What’s got you happy?” Sona asked, noting his smile.

“We’ve got him.” Martin then explained the conversation he had just over heard. “I didn’t get a chance to look at the contact,” he said before Luke could ask. “But I suspect that whoever it is, they’re a servant. And they’ll be meeting next week.”

“Finally,” Sona said, looking relieved. “Then I won’t have to give the queen another empty report!” Martin was going to reply but frowned and turned to the door. Someone was coming.

There was a polite knock on the door. “Enter,” Sona said.

Queen Abigail opened the door and smiled at them. They jumped to their feet and bowed. “Three out of the four here,” she said, motioning them to sit again. “Good. I’ve been a little worried that you haven’t been talking with each other, especially with the reports Sona’s been giving me.”

The three spies exchanged glances, each a little shocked at the comment. Did the queen know nothing about spying?

“My visit will be short,” the queen went on, either not noticing their shock or pretending she hadn’t. “I don’t have much time before my next meeting. Tell me, have you found anything about Var?”

“We’ve got a new development,” Sona said, smiling a bit. “Var is a spy. Martin just overheard him talking with a contact.”

“Really?” the queen asked, looking down at him with surprise and pride.

“I didn’t get a chance to find out who he’s spying for or the contact is,” Martin said, hoping that his explanation would appease the queen. “But I’ve got a lead and I’ll be following it.”

“Good,” Abigail said, beaming. “Get as much evidence on the man before we move in.”

“As you command.”

“There is a reason why I came though,” she went on. “I will be teaching the advanced class today, so I need you to tell Calvin and Var that you will be meeting in my office instead of Grelend’s study. The poor lord got a stomach flu last night.” Abigail frowned confused as Luke and Sona burst out laughing.

Martin, however, wanted to groan. The advance class was a waste of time. The things taught was what any fresh minted spy knew. Politicking, compromises, the ways of court, difficult decisions, when to use quick action or slow deliberation, delegation of work… He knew how!

“What’s with that sour look?” the queen asked, ignoring the inside joke that Sona and Luke were laughing at.

“It’s just getting tedious,” Martin sighed. “I’ve learned it all already.”

Abigail paused. “Do the others feel the same way?”

“A few of them.”

The queen rubbed her chin in thought. “Then I must revise me lesson. Farewell.” They stood again and bowed as she left. Luke and Sona sat back down but Martin kept standing.

“Guess I should go warn my tent mates,” he sighed. “Jordan is going to be jealous when he hears that we’ve got a lesson with the queen today.”

“I feel a bit sorry for Jordan,” Sona admitted. “He’s surrounded by those in the advanced class while he’s trying so hard to catch up.”

“Don’t feel too bad for him,” Luke snickered. “Rumor’s going around that a servant caught his eye. They’ve been spotted kissing around the mansion.”

“Great,” Martin muttered. “To add to the lecher in my tent, there’s now a love sick man.” Before he could give either of them a chance to say anything else, he said good bye and left.

It took him a while to track down Calvin. He wasn’t in the library like he usually was. After asking several of other of the advanced classmates, Martin finally tracked the merchant down in the horse stables. It wasn’t surprising that the merchant was gawking at his Rowan.

“Do you like him?” Martin asked, walking up behind the merchant. Calvin jumped, spinning around and clutching his chest.

“By the Seven Founders! Martin! Couldn’t you have warned me you were there?” Martin just shrugged. Calvin took a moment to gather himself again, looking back at the elven horse. “He’s yours?”

“A gift,” Martin explained, opening the stable door and patting the horse on the neck. Rowan didn’t even bother to look up from the hay he was eating. “I haven’t even had him for a year.”

Calvin whistled low. “That’s one expensive gift. What did you do to earn him?”

“I saved the Stand.” A good enough excuse, and partially true. Fred gave him as thanks for going to the Stand.

“Ah,” Calvin said, respect flickering in his eyes. “A good gift then.”

“Our class with Lord Grelend has been canceled,” Martin suddenly said, wanting to get his orders out of the way. Calvin looked hopeful. “But,” he said, the merchant’s face falling, “we’re to meet with the queen instead in her office.”

“The queen’s teaching us?”

“Apparently.”

Calvin sighed. “Jordan isn’t going to be happy about that. I’ll see you at class.” The merchant left. Martin stayed for a moment, quietly stroking his horse. While he tried to ride Rowan every other day so the horse could get exercise, it didn’t often happen. This was the third day since his last ride.

“I’ll come back later,” he promised the horse when he left. Rowan whickered a bit then returned to his hay.

At least one of us is happy, Martin thought, sighing. Time to find Var. It was midday break and Var could be anywhere, though most likely with a girl. Deciding that it might not be considered his fault if he couldn’t find the glassmith before class, Martin went to his tent to grab his papers for class. He opened the tent door and froze.

“Heithery!” he swore, spinning around and holding his hand to his forehead. He had found Var and his current girl… He forcefully shook his head, trying to banish the image in his head.

“Don’t you know how to knock?” Var snapped. Behind him, he heard the girl squeal in unpleasant surprise. There was a sound of scrambling for clothes.

“It’s a shared tent,” Martin snapped, refusing to turn around. “I shouldn’t have to knock!”

The girl rushed past him, her face flushed as she tried to tie her corset back up on the run. Martin ignored her, turning back to Var. The glassmith had put on a shirt and was jumping to put his pants on. Martin would have started lecturing the glassmith if he didn’t then notice something strange on the inside of Var’s right ankle. It was a round tattoo, a crude looking one at that. Martin wondered what it was. Var didn’t strike him as the type to allow something so crude on his persons, little alone tattooed.

“Really,” Var said, the tattoo covered by his pants, “you have no decency!”

“Decency?” Martin growled, glaring. “The least you could have done was find a private place to go on about that!”

“Oh,” Var snapped, stuffing his shirt into his pants. “Like you haven’t been found with a girl.”

“No,” Martin snapped. “I haven’t! I don’t get involved with girls like that!”

“Oh, that’s right,” Var sneered. “I forgot. You’re in love with that researcher who’d sooner cut a person up than let them touch her.” Martin blushed, berating himself the act. He should be cool and calm! Not blushing like this! “Is that why you like her? Because she doesn’t let you touch her?”

“It’s none of your business who I like,” Martin said, trying to steer away from the subject. “I just came by to get my things for class. Oh, and speaking of class, the lord is sick so the queen’s teaching us in her office.”

Var paused as he put on his vest. “The queen’s teaching us?”

“Yes,” Martin snapped, grabbing his things off his bed. “And I wouldn’t be late.” Stomping out, he left Var to finish getting dressed. He was still fuming when he reached the queen’s office. As usual he was the first there.

“Hello, Martin,” Abigail said as he opened the door and walked in. She was at her desk working on papers. She didn’t even bother looking up to see it was him. While she still didn’t approve of his walking in uninvited, she had gotten used to it. Martin rather preferred that she hadn’t looked up at him. His face was still red and he needed a bit to get his emotions under control. He picked a chair so he could watch the door without turning too much and waited for the rest of the class.

One by one the advanced class showed up. They knocked politely and waited for the queen’s answer to enter. She greeted each by name and with a smile. When Var walked in, the glassmith took one look to where Martin was sitting and picked a chair as far from him as possible, placing himself in the same view as the door. Martin wanted to scowl. That man was annoying!

While waiting for the others, Var got out his writing board, swung his leg so his ankle was resting on his knee, and propped the board on his leg. He began writing something very furiously, absently rubbing his ankle… His right ankle.

No, Martin realized, watching. Not rubbing his ankle, but checking the tattoo… The decipher!
***************
Abigail continued working while the advanced class arrived. It was no surprise to her when Martin showed up first. She had glanced up briefly when he opened the door without knocking and noticed how flustered he looked. Not wanting to get involved, she pretended to have not looked up from her paperwork and greeted him.

Something must be seriously wrong, she thought as she watched from the corner of her eye as he sat down without returning a greeting. She doubted his agitation had anything to do with Sona. The pretty researcher said that Martin had started flirting with her and that she suspected that sometime he would start making his own advances. No, whatever had the Alex upset was something else.

Abigail figured that he would tell her eventually. Right now, she had a class to worry about. The class arrived slowly over the next half hour. When Var arrived, she noted the flash of anger in Martin’s eyes as the glassmith picked a seat in the Alex’s view of the door.

Ah, she realized, noting the similar glare Var shot at the spy when Calvin started a conversation with the Alex. Another development with Var. Judging from the glares though, neither of them were very happy about it.

Thomas was the last one to arrive, looking flustered himself. Not that she blamed him. Lynne was a nice girl but she did like to chatter. It probably put the duke at edge to have someone talk about anything when he was used to being surrounded by spies who were careful with what they said. She also suspected that Thomas was already in love with someone else, probably a spy. He kept trying to talk to her about something. She would have prompted the truth out of him, but something always came up to pull her away.

“Welcome,” she started out, putting down her pen. “I see that everyone got the message about today’s class. I was going to follow what Lord Grelend’s lesson plan for today, but,” she glanced to Martin, remembering what he had said earlier, “it has come to my attention that some of you think this class is… useless.” About half of the class fidgeted nervously in their chairs; mostly the men who had married into minor noble houses. Martin didn’t react at all; he just sat there paying polite attention.

“With that in mind,” she went on, “I’ve decided that today we’ll just talk about what you want to learn about Santers.”

Even Martin sat up at that announcement, looking surprised. “Each of you will have a turn,” she said before they could start asking questions. “Thomas is excluded, of course. So, Samuel, we’ll start with you.”

She was pleasantly surprised when each man took time to think of an appropriate question. Some of the questions were actually quite common. Who did she consider Aeterna’s greatest ally? How did she cope with difficult decisions? When did she stop listening to her advisors and instead did what she thought was right? How often did she have to appear to court? All the questions she took her time in answering, making sure she was as thorough as possible. The men looked truly interested and kept taking notes as she talked.

Perhaps, she thought, I need to answer more questions instead of just interview them. She made a mental note to visit all the classes to provide the other men with the same opportunity.

The last man to ask a question was Martin. He was the only one who was half listening to her answers. Oh, he took notes, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere. It wasn’t until he asked his question that the queen realized he had spent his time worrying about which question to ask.

“The prince is born with the renewal spell,” Martin started off, sitting entirely too still to be calm. “Records have been lost about the renewal spell and the powers those Santers had. So my question is this: how are you planning on teaching the prince about powers you don’t understand?”

Abigail sat back in her chair, her mind drawing a blank and shock at the question. Martin had a very valid point. Her son was more powerful than her; she didn’t understand the power he held. If he had been raised in the palace, they would have noticed right off his stronger power and would have taught him as they all discovered his powers. But that wasn’t what happened. Her son’s power came back to him all at once when the Inhibitor was removed. He was probably dealing with shock as he discovered just how much he could do.

“Honestly,” she sighed. “I don’t know how to teach him. I do have researchers back in Nacre searching for anything to help, but they haven’t come up with anything yet.”

“So,” Martin concluded. “He’s on his own?”

“No,” she said firmly. “We will help him. We may not understand what he can do, but we can give him support. We may even have some answers. The point I’m trying to say is that, although I don’t know everything about his powers, I know mine. His may be stronger, but I’ve had mine longer and I understand the little I have. It’s not much, but it is more than him learning on his own.”

Martin’s expression was a perfect mask, revealing nothing about what he thought of her answer. She wanted to curse the training that let him keep his emotions to himself. He would have been easier to read if he didn’t wear that mask!

The bell rang for dinner, accompanied by a round of growling stomachs. She was a bit surprised; she hadn’t noticed the time go by. “Very well,” she said. “You are all dismissed for dinner.” The men stood up and bowed briefly before leaving.

“Oh, Martin,” she said before the Alex could leave. “If I might have a quick word with you?” The Alex stayed back, the mask of his still covering his thoughts.

“Yes?” he asked after the last man left and closed the door.

“Why did you ask that question?” she asked, leaning back in her chair. “It was too well thought out to be just an idle question like the others.” It had also bothered her, much more than she wanted to admit. Her son had powers and they hadn’t been doing anything to help him understand those powers.

Martin stood there a moment, finally showing a thoughtful expression. “I’ve seen much in my life,” he answered slowly. “And I’ve seen what raw, uncontrolled, power can do. I just… I just worry that the renewal spell will get out of his control.”

Abigail sank father into her chair. There was something else, something he wasn’t telling her. However, she knew he kept secrets; he wouldn’t be the spy he was if he didn’t. Perhaps it was what he had seen that made him voice his anxiety.

“Your concern has been noted,” Abigail said. “I’ll see what I can do to determine what we might be able to teach the men about control. You are dismissed.” Martin bowed and left, leaving her with another very weighty problem to deal with.
************
Oh, so close, Abigail! If only you had thought a bit more about his question. Oh well, it’s not yet time for Martin’s grand reveal. There we have the development, Var’s decipher is on his ankle. The problem is now trying to copy it. But that is next week’s post.

Now I have something that I am hesitant to tell you. So Wednesday I was working on my homework for my theatre 101 class (random class ISU wants students to take), drawing a stage for our final project when I just kept drawing. It resulted in me drawing my main characters from this story. I was wondering who would like to see it. Forewarn, I am no artist, I draw terrible feet, some of the proportions are off, but you can tell they’re my characters. Anyway, would anyone like to see it? If only one or two people would like to see it, then I’ll just email them a copy. If more want to see it, then I’ll post it on the blog (kinda hoping that only one or two would like to see it). Just a perk I thought you’d be interested in.

Until next week, enjoy the journey!