Excerpt: Things Never Go Smooth

Lethwin waited. Nothing else seemed to be forthcoming, so he smiled, briefly, took a breath, and began speaking. "Very well. We will not be disturbed here, it is private enough for my purposes. You may be aware that there have been other Manifestations since we last spoke. The storm clouds and lightning during light rain, and the earthquake earlier today. What you are probably not aware of, is that almost all of the Manifestations have been centred on the palace off the Square of Candles, the palace known as 'The Palladium', occupied by one Princess Elena."

"There's that name again," Cullan muttered.

"Quite," Lethwin agreed. "And, if you have any observational powers at all, you may have surmised that there are in fact two Gods Manifesting in and around The Palladium."

"Cajon and Pickt," Rassillon confirmed.

"Correct. It is also common knowledge that the Princess Elena has, since the Manifestations began, been frequenting the Eastern temple opposite the Fainting Oyster, as I am sure you know. There are numerous rumours circulating as to the exact reason, but by putting together all the pieces of information available to us, including the fact that she intends to marry the son of Lord Panacles in order for her familial line to regain political and effectual power in this city, we can discard such entertaining titbits as, 'she meets a secret lover there,' or, 'she is negotiating passage to the East.' What she is almost certainly doing there, is receiving ecclesiastical guidance from the priests of a God who has no interest in whatever conflict the two celestial brothers have."

"That's what people have been saying," interjected Cullan, as Lethwin recovered his breath for another extended bit of explanation.

"Quite. And it is, interestingly, only since the Manifestations began that she has been visiting the temple. Now, one can, of course, speculate forever on the actual motives of Gods without arriving at a useful answer, but the facts do add up to some remarkable co-incidences, suppositions, and conclusions. What might yours be?"

This threw them off balance. Cullan spoke first. "Thaaat, she might be... being asked to choose between Cajon and Pickt?"

Lethwin nodded and looked at Alys. "Maybe, Cajon and Pickt are asking her something the think only she knows, and she doesn't, really?"

Lethwin smiled as he turned his gaze on Rassillon. "Cajon and Pickt may be asking Princess Elena to decide something for them, and she does not wish to offend either of them."

Lethwin nodded again and looked at Morgan. "The Gods are bribing her to give an answer they prefer, and she doesn't want to risk turning down both bribes, or answering and angering the other."

The political agent smiled. "Excellent! You all appear able to think. Yes, those are all excellent theories." He fell silent.

"And?" asked Cullan eventually.

"Yes, and. And, and, and, and." Lethwin appeared to be having trouble phrasing the next bit. Eventually, "people are worried," came out. "They do not like uncertainty. They do not know what is occurring, many of them – in fact, almost all of them, do not have the full picture, and so they come up with ideas like Princess Elena is trying to summon the Eastern God to fight the ones who have been Manifesting here. When the people in question are nobles and merchants with a say, an important and weighty say, in the running of the city, and of the Realm, it leads to bad decisions and poor judgement all over. If the nobles and high merchants were to be reassured, by a source that they trust, that the Princess Elena is not going to incite a celestial war over their city, or that a God is not going to exact mercantilic punishment upon the city, then things would be much much smoother for everyone."

"Not to mention profitable, I suppose?"

"Indeed. Yes, the trusted source, and his agents who were able to procure such information to be the basis of the reassurance, would indeed be rewarded most munificently."

"I recognise that phrase," Cullan said. "It means some poor bugger's about to be taken to the cleaners, and we're the ones that'll, one way or another, do it. In this case, we'll be the ones providing the information on which to base the reassurance, yes?"

"Correct," Lethwin answered. "Getting in to a heavily-guarded place and doing something – expensive, shall we say – appears to be your speciality."

"What are you offering?"

"Two hundred dollars each, initially. Plus another fifty each, up-front."

"That sounds good," Cullan commented. "Rather a lot for one night's work, though."

Lethwin flashed a thin smile. "Obviously, you are new to the business."

"Obviously," Cullan agreed. "Alright – what exactly do we need to find out?"

"Confirmation of the purpose of Elena's visits to the Eastern temple, a guarantee that no divine retribution will be visited on the city, and why Cajon and Pickt have been Manifesting before her."

"In that order?"

"In any order that presents itself."

"And this is all to be done discreetly, yes?"

"Of course."

"Excuse us a moment." Cullan gathered the others into a huddle. There was a brief discussion, then they separated, and he turned back to face Lethwin. "We're in. That'll be fifty dollars each, please."

Lethwin motioned to one of his guards. "And when will you be carrying out your task?"

"If you can let us have a plan of The Palladium, which I'm sure will be no trouble to a man of your resources, I expect we'll be able to go in tomorrow night, and have your answers by the next morning."

"A plan will be made available to you by morning. It will be delivered by my associate that you met the day before yesterday, personally."

"Thanks."

"He will also be able to answer any questions you have about the placement of guards and so on in The Palladium."

"That will be most useful, thank you."

"Very well." Lethwin stood. "I shall leave you to return to the Fainting Oyster, and get some sleep in preparation for your first foray into political enquiries."

"Good. We'll be back here at noon the day after tomorrow to hand over the info, and get the rest of our reward."

"I have no doubt," the agent replied, and swept out, his guards following.

"Pompous twerp," Cullan muttered, when he'd gone.