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Chapter Fifteen – Cessation of Hostilities

Chapter Fifteen – Cessation of Hostilities

Twoya, Capital Building

Sammy leads Teum up the weathered marble steps, hurriedly one at a time to keep ahead of Teum’s easy two steps per stride pace. Both are wrapped tightly in full length coats to protect them against the driving rain. Wordlessly he motions to a pair of glass doors to the left of the massive double entry. Teum has seen such setups before in other so-called important buildings. A massive front door, impractical for use other than ceremoniously, flanked by smaller utilitarian doors.

The two make for the door when a sentry who was stationed between the door sets puts out an arm, “Not today, buddy. Heads of states are meeting.

“The capital is closed to the public until tomorrow morning.”

Teum wordlessly throws open his coat, exposing his Defender Blacks, the sentry lowers his arms, “Do I need to clear the building?”

Teum trying to sound reassuring, “That won’t be necessary, I’m here as a representative. I’m not defending.”

The sentry looks relieved, “That’s reassuring. For a second, I thought maybe you were here for the big guy that the mayor has been negotiating against for the last two days. You’re almost as big as him, I can’t imagine you two going toe-to-toe.”

Sinching his coat shut to keep his clothes dry, “That sounds like the man I’m here to find. He goes by the name of Lael, Early Lael.”

The sentry leans forward conspiratorially, “You may need to know this… a man in his entourage may have made a slip of the tongue and addressed him as Father.”

After a dramatic short pause, “and he doesn’t look to be related. You know what that means, right?”

This isn’t good and needs to be quelled. Softly Teum asks, “what’s your name sentry?”

Confused, “I’m Sentry Beatty.”

Now stern, Teum continues, “Sentry Beatty, I know exactly what that means.

“Your ranks are filled with gossips, that should know better than to spread rumors that could damage state business. Even if he is what you believe, do you think your mayor does not know who he is dealing with?

“Because I know precisely who he is and what did I say about my reason to be here?”

The sentry, having leaned backwards a little more with each precisely enunciated syllable, is now standing back at full attention. Rain pelting him in the face as he barks his response, “You are here as a representative!”

Teum stares hard at the man and raises an eyebrow.

Quieter the sentry adds, “You are not defending against anyone.”

Teum relaxes and puts a reassuring hand on the smaller man’s shoulder, “That’s right Sentry Beatty and what are you going to do the next time you hear inappropriate gossip?”

“I’m going to put a stop to it, sir.”

Dialing back the tension, Teum cautions, “There’s a fine line between gossiping and intelligence gathering, you crossed the line when you shared with me, an outsider. You don’t know the bargaining positions or sides of the upcoming negotiations. You could have blown everything up for the city of Twoya. Think on what you learned today.”

Knowing when he should leave was never Teum’s strong point, luckily an impressed Sammy does and grabs Teum by the elbow and leads him to the waiting glass door and dry lobby beyond.

Shedding their rain gear, the two approach a desk labeled information, where a modestly dressed woman in a dark green dress inquires, “How may I assist you Defender?”

“I’m looking for a visitor from Thuma that has been meeting with the mayor. Can you direct me to his location?”

Swallowing the negative response she was directed to give anyone looking to interrupt the mayor’s current meeting, she glances dismissively at Sammy before returning her eyes to the defender before her.

“The mayor is still engaged with the party from Thuma in his office, I can take you directly to them. We haven’t much time, the meeting starts in less than an hour.”

The woman seemingly glides across the room, her full-length dress nearly touching the ground hides her feet. Swiftly following, the two men seem ungainly and clumsy.

They don’t have far to travel; the mayor’s office is on the ground floor and is the only room along the right side of the hallway.

The woman pauses a moment to crack the door and check who is present before throwing it open and sailing through. Hurriedly Teum and Sammy follow.

They are in a waiting room with a dozen comfortable chairs. Lounging in two of them are Father’s security detail. The two men look completely ordinary in every way. Other people require bodyguards, intimidating to behold, people broadcasting their lethality with every movement, but not Father. His security detail is there to make sure a room is clear, hotel and dinner reservations are arranged, they fetch cars and watch for trouble. Father drips with intimidation, one look and you know he’s lethal.

When Teum first met Luscin’s father he was positive the man had an affect mask in place. After a night of clandestine and finally outright probing he came to the conclusion that the man is naturally that way. Some of it is his size, he still stands a few inches taller than Teum, his shoulders are wider. When working his face is always expressionless, his eyes dead, looking into them is impossible without suppressing a shudder.

“You two can wait here, I’ll let the mayor know you are…”

Teum interrupts, “The mayor isn’t expecting us. Tell Master Lael that Teum is here.”

Faster than you can blink, the two lounging security members are on their feet, “Hey Teum, Sammy, when did you get here?”

“We arrived in Twoya this afternoon. If Sammy had been at his station, we’d have been here an hour ago.”

“I told you, I was on station, you two couldn’t find me because I wasn’t supposed to be seen.

“Don’t hate me because I’m good at my job.”

The quip elicits a few chuckles which trail off as their escort opens the door to the inner office. Without a word she enters, pulling the door shut behind her.

They wait a full ten minutes before the door reopens.

Standing in the doorway the woman beckons with a sweep of an arm, “Mayor Pilloski can receive you now.”

Teum pauses to think for only a moment, “Thanks for your assistance, Sammy. You can wait here or return to our hotel and wait there.”

Expecting no less, Sammy was already turning to go, “I’ll take a stroll; see you back at the hotel.”

Inside Teum finds Father taking up both cushions of a couch meant for two and the man who must be the mayor in a comfortable high-backed chair with cushioned arm rests. The two of them are chuckling over something.

Teum isn’t sure if there’s some protocol he’s’ to follow, Malo would know. Glancing at the floor and then raising his gaze a southernly and a little to the east he thinks he senses him in that direction.

His indecision has him waiting, positioned to their side until Father looks his way and gives permission to speak with a nod of his head.

“Sir, I’d like to speak with you.” Keeping his eyes on Father, “In private.”

“Pull up a chair and join us Teum. I was just telling the mayor about our recent successes in trade around the lakes and Rebirth.”

Mayor Pilloski adds, “It’s impressive what can be achieved when you have certain resources at your disposal, perhaps we can duplicate those successes here in central Cenoka.”

Too nervous to sit, “This won’t take long, I don’t mind standing.”

Father shrugged as if to say, suit yourself.

Teum takes a breath and tries to sound convincing, “The Masters of Mammatus Study believe the Empire of Blood is planning a full-on invasion of South Cenoka, the fighting is going to spread to every city, where there isn’t enough man power to repel such an attack.

“We don’t believe their intent is to subjugate. When they come it will be to purge our cities of all life.

“They’re currently doing this to their own nation. Refugees are flooding our northern border. All telling the same stories, entire towns rounded up and taken to the capital to be slaughtered.”

“They’ve been training their War Born to use the gift at unseen power levels. While we are busy fighting them, someone will need to defend the free cities of South Cenoka.

“Can we count on your assistance?”

Father is silent, his expressionless face gives away nothing of his thoughts.

It’s half a minute before he responds, “You ask for something I cannot deliver. I am here to forge an alliance between the legally recognized government and Family of Thuma. You’ll need to talk to the head of each party to get your answer.

“Mayor Pilloski is right here. Mayor what do you think?”

The mayor stands and takes a few paces so he can face both Teum and Mr. Lael.

“First, I would like to say thank you, to you and your fellow defenders for the excellent work you do protecting us from the terrible dangers of the world. I am entrusting you to personally convey my sincerest gratitude to your fellow masters at Mammatus Study. Their exploits are renowned all over South Cenoka and should never be forgot.

“I must also inform you that we are already negotiating with the Empire of Blood using an intermediary from the Peoples Province of Vorg.

“I don’t know where you get your reports, but our sources say the only danger from the north is an influx of cheap goods and exotic foods.

“If you have any solid evidence of an invasion, please leave it with my secretary and he’ll provide me with a summary.

Clasping his hands behind his back the mayor ends the conversation, “Unless you have more to add, I believe this conversation is over.”

Father stands and gives Teum a barely noticeable nod, “Yes, we have pressing business ahead.

“Teum, you will join me for the upcoming meeting.”

Teum wouldn’t ordinarily involve himself in family business or politics for that matter, but this seems different and in light of the crazy notion that The Empire of Blood wants to open a trade route warrants an investigation.

“Yes, sir.”

Fifteen minutes later the three of them are in an electric carriage driving down the rain slick roads of Twoya. Streetlights provide just enough illumination to light roads and pedestrian walkways.

Leaving the government and business district their carriage driver takes them to the oldest retail district in the city, some say it’s the heart of Twoya.

Founded three thousand years ago, Twoya was a riverside trading post. The buildings here have been built up and modified but never replaced. Their purposes have changed over the millennia from warehouse to home, to factory, and dozens or hundreds of other uses. Their destination tonight is a building that has been a restaurant for the last twelve hundred years and is considered the ultimate destination for fine dining in the city.

“Welcome to Riverside, Mayor Pilloski,” greets the valet as he opens the carriage door.

Continuing his greeting, “The rest of your party has already arrived and are waiting in the Hearth Room as you directed.”

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The mayor tips the valet a pair of coins as they enter the building and are greeted by a host.

“Welcome to Riverside, my name is Marcin, I will be your host tonight, if you need anything at all, please ask any member of my staff or myself.

“Please let me take your coats.”

A small army of additional hosts swarmed the three diners to assist with the removal of their overcoats. When finished they abscond with the damp garments.

The hosts wide-eyed double take at Teum’s Defender uniform goes unnoticed by the guests.

“Does anyone require freshening up before joining the rest of your party?”

Teum doesn’t need to freshen up but wonders where the water closet is located.

Father stoops low to whisper something to the host.

Before Father can stand back up straight the host has signaled for a runner. A quick exchange of words and the runner disappears.

After an appropriate pause where nobody indicates a need for a trip to the water closet the host invites, “Please follow me, to the Hearth Room.”

The mayor falls in line behind the host, followed by Father, Teum takes up the rear and tries to take in everything.

Marcin, their host gives them the customary tour, “Our main dining area as you can see is on your right. This doorway on your left leads to our wine cellar. I can give you a tour if you like.”

Not expecting to be taken up on the offer he continues without pause and opens the adjacent door, “This door leads to our dry aging room, where upwards of two thousand pounds of bovine meat is hanging at any given time.

Teum, having never heard of bovine, is still processing the adjacent words like cow, beef, and steak, and was expecting to see thousands of tiny cavi-like carcasses on shelves. His jaw drops a little at the sight of six giant meat slabs suspended from massive hooks. His family raised pigs; none grew anywhere near that size.

Closing the door, Marcin leads the group further into the restaurant, “On our left is our secondary dining area. This is where we seat large groups that do not request a private room. I’m certain you can smell the grill to our right. This is where all our steaks are cooked to each guest’s specifications. If you look past the grill, you’ll see the other cooking stations and prep areas.”

Marcin slowed his pace to give everyone time to appreciate the long grill top with two dozen slabs of meat sizzling to perfection while a pair of chefs tend to the assortment of cuts before them.

The open walkway between seating and kitchen becomes a long dark hall. Decorating the walls are several paintings of a farm. While making the final walk of fifteen yards, Marcin continues his tour, “We grow and raise everything we serve at Riverside. The paintings you see are of our farm located on the outskirts of the city. It was once more than ten miles outside city limits, over the last thousand years, Twoya has grown exponentially and has nearly enveloped our land.

Having reached the halls end, Marcin turns and indicates the door on his left, “This door here is the water closet closest to the Hearth Room where you’ll be dining tonight.

“I would be remiss if I did not point out that the Hearth Room is the oldest section of the Riverside and has dimensions fitting that time period. As you must know, buildings from that era were sized for a smaller people. While an average person can easily navigate the room, the two of you,” gesturing to Teum and Father, “will need to watch your head when passing through the doorway, as well as watching out for the support beam running down the middle of the ceiling. Also take care to not hit the crown molding if walking near any of the walls.

“I’ll check back with you after attending my other guests, until then I’ll be leaving you with Maria and her assistants.”

“Eh hem, sir? I have that drink you requested.”

The three guests turn and see the runner from before holding a short glass about a third full of a light brown liquid.

Handing the drink to Father, “I’m Ewa and I’ll be assisting Maria, and I promise to do my best for you.”

Pushing past the group Ewa opens the door behind Marcin and holds it that way for the guests to enter.

The mayor follows close behind, seeing that Father isn’t moving. Teum goes ahead and narrowly avoids smashing his skull on the doorframe thanks to Ewa energetically pointing to the head of the door frame.

Having successfully entering the room he takes a second to take an inventory of his surroundings. A long table with five chairs to a side and a single chair at the head of the table splits the room down the middle. The walls are painted white, artificial light is generated by machines mounted in the room’s corners make the walls and ceiling glow a pleasant warm light that allows for comfortable lighting for people without the gift.

The long narrow table is occupied by a mix of nine men and women with different tastes in fashion. Teum recognizes or thinks he recognizes a few of them. There’s a woman from Brust Valley, he’s never met her but has seen her with her family, the Moon’s. There’s another woman dressed like she’s from his home in Oiho. He’s uneasy at the appearance of another woman that bears an uncanny resemblance to Defender Remon from El’Hat. The woman his wife killed while defending the Nguyen family.

Entering the room is another restaurant worker, “Welcome to The Riverside, my name is Marisa, and I look forward to doing my best to serve you. I see we have an additional diner tonight. Mayor Pilloski, where would you like me to seat him?”

The mayor begins to answer when Father talks over him, “That won’t be necessary. Teum will not be staying for long.”

The mayor shrugs and takes the empty seat on the end-right side of the table. Father sits at the head of the table, the chair creaks ominously as it takes his weight. Teum not sure what he should do, stands to his fathers-in-law’s right.

It was at that moment when Teum realized what Father had orchestrated. Ten heads of state are seated in a cramped room with Fathers hulking figure between them and the only exit and standing at his right side is an equally large man, his son-in-law who is also a uniformed defender from the prestigious Mammatus Study. Whatever he’s going to propose his starting position is one of strength and intimidation.

Basement testing room, Mammatus Study

Sanne coos, “That was such a good job. For that you’ve earned a treat.”

The subject eagerly devours the offered treat and meekly responds, “Thank you Sanne.”

Master Blackwell sits in the corner as an observer, sickened by the methodology, thankful for the results. Watching the two friends now turned interrogator and subject is difficult to endure but necessary to survive. He wonders what other atrocities they will perform before this is over.

Sanne worked Leven by the book, almost. Her mentor Minerva would not have been proud. Minerva would tell her that every subject is different and to exploit them most effectively you must experiment, get creative, become their world. Engage them in pain and pleasure, and only by infantilizing a subject can you be certain the results are pure. Minerva was insane.

Using the technique of tearing away chunks of spirit and feeding them back to the subject is doing the job. The subject experiences pain and the following dulling of senses, to earn their reward they must talk. When the conversation wanes, the spirit can be returned.

Torture by spirit rending is tricky and dangerous to both torturer and subject, a spirit without a host will rapidly deteriorate and disappear, the interrogator must sustain the spirit by grafting it to their own. Clipping that graft isn’t pleasant, handing the spirit back feels like a loss of your own. It wears on you; it’s like you’re killing a bit of yourself each time. But you’re not, the bit of spirit was never yours in the first place. Only the mental anguish is real.

It’s a game of submission; the subject begins the sessions with a defiant fire in their belly. Then they get a portion of their spirit rendered from their core. The world becomes dimmer, their feelings lessened. After a boring conversation, they get their spirit back. Each cycle a little is wasted, a loss of spirit that can never be regained. As the topics get more personal and the coveted information is shared the rewards get supplemented with sweets and other addictive substances.

Sanne is no longer taking any spirit in these sessions, Leven’s childlike demeaner isn’t fake, emotionally he’s an abused child seeking assurances from his abuser that the nightmare is over, and they can be happy again.

Sanne ruffles Leven’s hair as she stands. Smiling with eyes closed, Leven leans into her hand to prolong contact. Master Blackwell follows her out of the room.

Sanne turns to Master Blackwell, “I don’t think he has anything left.”

Kale notices what she didn’t say, “Do you mean information or spirit?”

“Both, there are no specifics he can share because he doesn’t know anything outside of his own area of operation. If I degrade his spirit any further, we’ll break him completely, he’ll not be able to live without assistance.”

“You still think we should allow him to live after all he’s done?”

“All he’s done is blab our business to the Empire of Blood, most of that was public knowledge.”

Kale sighs, because they’ve had this argument before, “We’ve struggled to keep communications open with a number of our allies because our informants disappear. Your friend admits to learning their identities and passing it on. He may not be the one who kills them, but he makes the list that get them killed.

“And let us not forget that some of our best prospects have dropped out over his admitted manipulations. He’s been undermining our efforts for a decade.

“He’s done all that for the promise of getting elevated by one of the power lords of the north. He’s a simple child now, but he was one, once before and look what he grew up to be.”

“Yes, but we now know all their methods and practices. Master Adara will be able to spot other such moles in a short time. Leven should be put into an environment where he can be raised anew. I can electrically lobotomize his memory of his time at Mammatus. In time he could regain much of his former function, minus the strength of his gift of course.”

“How is that any different than killing him?”

“It’s not, but he was my friend. At least the fake part of him that he revealed.”

Sadly, Kale reminds Sanne, “Leven was recruited in his first year at study by someone operating in the city. We don’t know that individuals real identity yet.

“Master Adara is making Leven’s drop tonight. If it goes well, your part in this is over.”

Sanne looks back through the door they didn’t bother closing at Leven sitting on the floor bouncing a ball off the floor and catching it.

“I feel awful. I wish Malo were here.”

At mention of that name, Kale, Sanne, and Leven all look down at the floor, their gaze slowly moving to the south and east. All three wonder what Malo could be doing on the other side of the world.

Master Adara’s personal quarters and office

Vania sits at her desk in the outer office as the snoring emanating from her private quarters reminds her of the pleasant afternoon she shared with Terius. The continued distraction is welcome as thoughts of what’s to come make her nervous.

Impersonating others is second nature, it’s the audience that has her worried. Even Leven doesn’t know the rank of the person that picks up his drops. It could be an intermediary, a hireling, or a full-fledged power lord for all they know.

Getting this wrong would mean starting from scratch, getting it right can lead to an entire network of spies. Rooting out the minions of the Empire of Blood is essential before the hostilities commence.

The envelope in her hand contains the last report written by Leven. It’s his handwriting; it’s his words, there’s nothing especially important revealed, but it could be what makes or breaks this operation.

Using knowledge gained by Sanne, knowledge she would have rather not known existed, she’s going to impersonate Leven and make the drop and attempt to follow whoever picks it up.

She should get to it, there’s no set day or time for these drops, now is as good a time as any.

As if sensing her resolve, the snoring in the other room ceases. A refreshed and naked Terius is standing in the doorway, “Leaving so soon?”

“Yes, this letter won’t deliver itself.

Sounding more confident than she feels, “Are you ready for your part?”

“Yes, Vania. I was going to ask you the same question. This whole operation rests on your ability to fool whoever you encounter. I’ll be within calling distance, just keep your wits about you and it will all be fine.”

Giving Terius a peck on the cheek, “Don’t forget your pants.”

Resisting the urge to jump out the window and fly away, she sticks to the plan and heads to the nearest stairwell where she enters as Master Vania Adara and exits as Page Supervisor Leven Pascal.

She throws an aspect mask on that will make her less approachable. Leven has been missing for weeks; his sudden appearance will draw questions she doesn’t want to answer.

Outside the study she wanders down the street past the row of warehouses that share this block. Reaching the end, she turns north and marches purposefully as Leven described his routine.

Stopping at a food cart she buys a meat pie. It’s a ritual of his to treat himself to street food whenever he makes a drop. He’s done it enough that the random vendor she chose greeted her by name.

“Good afternoon Leven, what can I get you?”

Hoping Sanne’s work went as well as she promised, “Surprise me.”

This made the woman working the stand happy, “You’re always the jokester, we only serve one thing. One meat pie coming up.”

Two small silver coins cover the meat pie, Adara is about to leave when she remembers the part she’s playing. Taking a nibble, she puts on the silly grin she’s seen him do so many times, “Mmmm, this is delicious. Can I take you home with me, you would make me the happiest man alive.”

Adara’s heart skips a beat when the woman replies, “Leven, it’s so unlike you to forget the important details.

“I’m a happily married woman and you’re two thirds my age.”

Thinking fast, “Well, should something happen… you’ve already had kids, so I know you can cook more than meat pies.”

Adara leaves the double implication hanging in the air while enjoying the rosy sheen blooming on the woman’s cheeks.

Leven would address her by name, the stall is called Buster’s and Marjorie’s Pies. There was a student named Marjorie he gave her a nickname.

“Thanks for letting me taste your pie, Marggie.”

Turning, it’s Adara’s turn to blush, that last comment was out of character for her but spot on for Leven.

She doesn’t wait for a response, taking a large bite of pie, she resumes her journey.

Leven described fourteen dead drops, any of them can be used as the opportunity arises. The important step is to signal for a pickup and wait for confirmation.

According to Sanne, Leven favors the dead drop nearest the study, she’s already moved past it without hesitation. There are three more she passes, the one she wants is the most ridiculously open drop and the hardest to observe. If her quarry were suspicious of a trap, this is the least likely dead drop to use.

The city of Mammatus is riddled with parks of all types and sizes. The park with the chosen dead drop is known simply as Lake Park and is dominated by a lake; row boats are available on a first come first served basis. A dozen boats pepper the water captained by people of all ages. A walking path lined with trees and bushes create uncountable blind spots where anything could happen unobserved.

The biggest risk of coming here is running into someone that knows Leven that Vania has never met. She has no reason to be here, if someone were to ask, she’d have to sell the story of going out for a walk to clear her head. Which is a wide-open invitation for follow up questions she doesn’t want to answer.

Her luck holds, nobody seems to recognize Leven. After a lap around the lake, she heads for the dead drop; an isolated fountain with two benches.

There’s a trash receptacle between the benches; that’s the dead drop. The signal is sent by activating a machine under the lip of the lid.

She crumples the envelope and tosses it into the bin. Stooping to adjust her shoe straps allows her to look for the activation button. Seeing a nub, she stands while using the trash bin for balance and presses the nub with her thumb.

There are three possible confirmations, a bell, a bark, or a whistle. It’s up to the agent that will be picking it up to send the confirmation. Staying near the bin, Leven sits on the bench and gazes at the lake.

Minutes pass, people come and go. A man dumps the leftovers from a picnic into the bin, not Leven’s problem.

A distant inu bark almost went unnoticed, that was the signal. If the confirmation signal doesn’t come in thirty minute’s it’s up to Leven to destroy the contents of the bin. That won’t be necessary today.

Leven stands, stretches and heads back the way he came.

The study master waits on a small hill six yards from the bin, out in the open, completely invisible.

A bold woman’s voice startles the master, “Fixing the grass blades beneath your feet is a wonderful touch. You truly are the master of sight and sound. I hope for your sake you didn’t hurt Leven.”