It'd been at least four years since Naltus had spent any meaningful time in the capital of Gadisia on the southern coast. The last time he was there, he hadn't even thought about who was Chancellor of the Gadisian Confederacy. Of course, then again, his prior visit wasn't a mission to kill the Chancellor and topple his government as part of a scheme to shift the country's alliance toward a group of angels that had split away from the High Angel Forynda.

After a week of working with Grenna and the rest of the Red Blade mercenary company to establish themselves as credible fish merchants, he was exhausted and spent much of that afternoon just staring out the window of his room at the Sea Gust Inn on the west coast of Alvcot Island. Alvcot was one of the five major islands in the Cersomin River Delta that comprised most of Gadisia. A network of high bridges connected the islands while also allowing boats to travel underneath as they streamed north to the Methrangian Empire's western lands or south to the sea.

Watching those boats was hypnotic to Nalt and a fine way to pass the time in between being tasked with some of the brute force work of moving their cargo of pickled fish to one market or another around the capital to quickly make a name for themselves. Grenna kept much of her plan to herself, as was her custom. Nalt understood why. If no one knew the whole scheme, she couldn't be easily replaced. Also no one would be able to give up her plans if they were questioned by authorities. She's a smart one, I'll give her that, Nalt thought to himself. Mercenary companies had frequent "changes" to leadership and Grenna had kept her position for an unusually long time.

He wasn't sure, however, exactly what her reason for keeping him in the same room with Mastohlt. The two of them had exceptionally divergent habits with Mastohlt sleeping right after returning from his tasks for the day and then waking in the middle of the night to read via candlelight. He would then return to bed only a couple hours before dawn. Nalt had no idea what to make of it.

"I say, Nalt," Mastohlt began as he sprawled out on his bed, "you don't suppose that Grenna has forgotten about us, has she?"

"No," a surprised Nalt replied. He turned away from fruitlessly trying to mend his studded leather armor. He kept discovering that his large hands were too clumsy to correct some of the finer issues.

"A joke, of course, but then again neither you nor I have spoken to her in the past few days have we?" Mastohlt continued to probe, his hand running through his thick wavy dark blue-green hair. His ordinarily wide eyes then narrowed at Nalt. "I suppose I saw her once or twice briefly over at Ongren Square, but that was about the extent of it."

"She's been very busy," Nalt warily offered. "What're you..."

"Oh, nothing. I'm just curious," Mastohlt interrupted. "You'll have to forgive me, my dear Nalt, I just can't stand not knowing things."

Nalt rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"That's your problem," he sighed.

"I find that it's more of a problem to dwell in ignorance, but then again you seem content not being aware of that much, either."

The jab caused Nalt to make a frustrated grunt at the preening mage.

"She's our leader and we'll follow her as far as she takes us. I leave the plans up to her. I've never seen her fail."

Mastohlt grinned.

"I admire that simpl... that certainty, I should say. Truly, I do."

"You can call me stupid to my face, Mastohlt. Go ahead. Have a good time," Nalt seethed. His face burned with irritation and he thought about just giving the mage a good punch. The Auras couldn't do much to stop that if he was quick enough.

"Oh no. No no no no. No. That's not it at all, Nalt!" Mastohlt oozed with sarcasm as he rose. "It's just you take direction a lot more easily than I do. I admire that in a strange way. If we are..."

Just at that moment, a knocking fell upon the somewhat warped wooden door.

"Come in!" Nalt shouted, eager to have some distraction from his conversation.

Wella's dark face emerged into the room after she opened the door. She pointed at Nalt.

"You're wanted," she said as she flicked a concerned glance between the two. "Are you boys getting along?"

"Never better," Mastohlt answered with a nod and bow.

"Oh, that bad, huh?" Wella chuckled. "You just wait here like a good boy. She'll have something for you later."

On his way out the door, Nalt gave Mastohlt a toxic smile and winked before closing the door. He and Wella exchanged few words while they were in the inn, but once they were outside in the hectic and noisy streets of Gadisia they felt more comfortable.

"So, what was that all about with you and him?" she asked as they moved past a gem merchant's stand.

"He's just an ass," Nalt spat.

"We all know that," she laughed. "Anything new on the ass front or just more of the same?"

"More of the same, I guess."

Wella nodded and motioned for them to continue over one of the narrow bridges to the adjoining island. Below, small boats made their way up from the harbor to the warehouses located on Gadisia's northern edge. From there, the goods would be transported all over the Gadisian Confederacy and the Methrangian Empire. Nalt wondered how it was that so many people could just go on with their lives with all of the crises gripping Vorlanys. After all, his entire purpose for being in Gadisia with the Red Blade company was specifically to alter the political balance of the war. Yet, for the dozens of boatsmen tending to their trade, it was a mere abstraction.

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After a few winding and cramped streets, they arrived at an alley where Grenna stood wearing a crimson outfit with gold laces, pacing back and forth at a frenzied rate.

"Ah! There you are!" she said in a loud whisper. "Come on. Get close. I don't have a lot of time to tell you this, but I have very good news."

"Oh?" Nalt queried eagerly.

"We're changing plans entirely. We're not doing that stupid poisoned fish scheme," she said, brimming with excitement.

"We're not?"

"No. I asked around and my suspicions were right. Someone let Gadisian spies in on the overall plan and I don't have time to figure out how that happened. It did give me an idea, though," she continued, tapping her head with a wry smile. "We put our poisoned fish in the storehouse of the consortium that's most likely going to provide the food for this little banquet. We then give evidence that there are the poisoned fish there, which will attract the city guard and knock our competition out of the way. Meanwhile, I've procured the best pickled fish in all of Gadisia, better than what we had before, and we'll offer our wares to take the place of theirs."

Nalt stood in awe of Grenna's plan. He had scarcely followed the swift way she rattled off one part of it after another and couldn't even get past the fact that the original plan had been exposed, but Grenna seemed unconcerned.

"You don't think we've been..." he started in a concerned whisper.

"Oh no," she shook her head. "Apparently all the Gadisian spies know is that there is a plot, but they don't know who is responsible. They sure as shit don't know who we are or what we're doing here."

"I'm not sure I followed something. The pickled fish for the banquet. If they're not..." Nalt probed again.

"Ah ha! Right. I didn't explain that!" Grenna blurted and then lowered her voice. "What we will put in place at the banquet is a series of explosives hidden in crates with the food we are bringing in, kept under false bottoms. Bafan has already arranged that. Once the time comes, a mage flame bolt goes in and Chancellor gets blown out."

"How... how many people would..." Nalt began inquiring, but Grenna waved him off.

"I've already thought about that," Grenna sighed. "The trick is to make sure we don't do it when there is a more generalized audience present for the reception, but instead just the politicians. We don't want to do something that hurts the common people or else we might get hunted down when this is all over. Keeping the damage targeted was easier when it was just going to be the politicians at the dinner with poison. Bombing the parliament building is a different thing. Have to be more careful about when and how we do that."

Nalt nodded and saw Wella also bob her head in agreement.

"So, what do I need to do now? I'm not sure what..." Nalt started, but Grenna raised her hand to cut him off.

"What I need you for is tonight. Load our poisoned fish into the storage area for our, um, competitor. I guess that's the right term," Grenna said with a smirk. "Once you do that, I'll provide the tip off to the city guards, who will find it there and then the rest of the plan springs into motion."

"I've gotta hand it to you," Wella smiled. "You don't let anything get you down. Always backup plans to your backup plans."

"It's why I get the biggest cut of the loot," Grenna laughed. "Now, Nalt, you'll go with Ovigon and a couple of the others for this tonight. You're the strongest man in the company by a fair amount so you'll do most of the lifting while the others cover for you if anything goes wrong."

"Looking forward to it!" Nalt chirped.

Grenna then motioned to have Wella back away for a moment. She then leaned closer to Nalt and whispered into his ear.

"Real quickly, has Mastohlt said anything that makes you suspicious of him?" she asked.

He wasn't shocked by the question, but the bluntness surprised him.

"I don't think he trusts you," he whispered back. "He's asked a lot of questions about what we're doing."

"Just questions?"

"A lot of grumbling, too."

"Hmmm. Well, he's always thought he's smarter than me," Grenna sighed. "But you haven't seen anything that makes you think he's a real problem, right?"

Nalt paused to think more carefully about his time with Mastohlt. Much as he wanted to claim he'd seen something that might cause Grenna to dispose of him, he couldn't recall anything.

"No. He's just an ass."

"Ha! Well, I'll speak to him tonight while you're busy," she said and motioned for Wella to come back. "Alright, I'm done with both of you. Now I've got to spend some more time chumming up to some politicians, which mainly involves getting drunk and talking a lot. Wish me luck."

As it happened, Nalt was the one needing luck because being stuck under the supervision of the stern and pompous Ovigon all night long. Ovigon, being a slight little man, at least didn't take up much space on their boat as they navigated the canals in the dark of night. While this gave Nalt plenty of space, Ovigon more than made up for it with his incessant critiques of Nalt's rowing.

"Not too fast around the turns!" Ovigon scolded him. "We're top heavy with these damn crates of fish. You could capsize!"

Nalt just breathed and took in the abuse. He knew Grenna would be grateful and that was all he cared about. Once they arrived at the warehouse, Ovigon provided Nalt with the key to their rival's storage compartment. How Grenna had managed to acquire that was something Nalt wondered about a great deal, but then again Grenna always had her ways.

It was a short distance from the dock along the narrow canal bank to the heavy iron door to the compartment and Nalt only had to drop off four crates. The other two men in the boat with him got out and took to either side while Ovigon remained in the boat to observe the whole operation.

Each of the crates was indeed brutally heavy, as Nalt had noticed when loading them up in the first place. It was no wonder that Grenna had chosen him for the task. No one else in the entire Red Blade company was strong enough to lift them by themselves. The odor was the bigger challenge for Nalt as he took one after the other and put them into unassuming locations within the tight compartment. By the time he lifted the fourth crate, he wasn't sure if his aching muscles or nauseous stomach would give out first.

"You're done faster than I expected," Ovigon said with his typically nasally voice as he motioned for his two men to come back to the boat. "And you did it just like we discussed? Each in a different spot mixed in..."

"Mixed in with the rest, yeah," Nalt sighed, absorbing Ovigon's patronizing ways.

"Good boy," Ovigon smiled and patted Nalt on the shoulder. "Alright. Time to go back. That's it for us tonight."

Nalt's aching muscles made the journey back far more difficult, but he managed it all the same. Once he returned to the Sea Gust Inn, he thought about ordering a drink at the bar, but his stomach was so queasy from inhaling the fumes from those vile pickled fish that the prospect of doing anything more to his poor bowels caused him to think better of it.

Once he opened his room door, he was surprised to see Grenna and Mastohlt speaking at the round table closest to the window. Both looked terribly upset.

"Shut the door," Grenna grumbled.

Nalt quickly complied and braced for what was to come. Mastohlt ran his hands through his thick blue green hair and took a deep breath.

"What is it?" Nalt asked sheepishly.

"We have a problem I just learned about," Grenna mumbled. "There's going to be a very different sort of guest at this event."

"Nothing we can't handle, I'm sure," Nalt said with false confidence.

"If only that were so. It's the angel Aberos. He's in the city to make sure Gadisia stays in Forynda's fold," Grenna hissed.

Nalt's jaw dropped. Mastohlt shook his head back and forth, tossing his hands up in the air.

"So... what do we do now?" Nalt sheepishly queried.

Grenna looked at both Mastohlt and Nalt before glancing down at the floor with a vanquished demeanor.

"I don't know," she conceded. "I really don't know."