[Mkguild] Spies and Assassins (1/?)

[Nathan Pfaunmiller]

Here is the first part of my next story.  Please note that some details are
subject to change, but the flow of conversation and basic storyline are not
currently expected to change.

_______________

<i>February 19, 708 CR</i>



Due to the tightly secretive nature of Metamor's intelligence community, it
was rare for Andwyn to meet with any of his spies without a good bit of
prior planning.  They could not risk compromising their positions as secret
operatives in their posts around the Midlands, and some few were also
forced to hide their identities within the Keep itself.  One such spy had
requested a meeting with the spymaster, however, and the situation had been
deemed important enough to deal with immediately.



It was dangerous when a spy began to question his orders.



Andwyn knew this more than most, and he pondered his course of action as he
waited in his office.  He had no worry that his man would have trouble
finding the location.  Despite the Keep's constant shifting, Kyia seemed
content to allow the bat and his fellows some measure of privacy.  Few were
the times when any of them even saw another soul within the twisting
corridors during their ingress.



The spy entered the room as soon as Andwyn's voice responded to the pattern
of knocks he used.  The man was dressed in a robe that entirely occluded
his features while still believably reflecting the rags of some unfortunate
beggar.  Andywn smiled at the wound strips of cloth that dangled behind the
man as if to hide a tail, especially when his guest pulled back his hood
and mask to reveal a completely human face framed by unruly curls of auburn
hair.



Taking no chances, the freckle-faced young man quietly recited an obscure
passage that had been given to him as his identification upon his joining
the ranks of Metamor's shadows.  Andwyn nodded as the words were spoken
perfectly before dropping from his inverted perch on the rafters of the
room.  He landed smoothly on the ground, tucking his wings about him as he
did, and took his place on the chair behind the desk in the center of the
room.



The spy had already approached the desk, standing until his senior offered
him the seat on the opposite side.  The bat watched as his charge settled,
thinking wistfully of a time when he could have taken his own seat as
comfortably.  He was far more used to clinging to the ceiling with the
claws that the Curse had given him now.  It was more comfortable, and it
allowed him to remain unnoticed by even the most cautious of observers.



Old habits die hard…



Still, taking his seat at the desk as was customary when dealing with such
matters.  It may not have been Andwyn's preferred method of relaxation, but
it was both more comfortable and less unsettling to most of the people with
which he spoke.  He was still human enough to put up with such things from
time to time, but he would be returning to the rafters soon after the
present business had been dealt with.



"You requested a meeting," the spymaster spoke in a quiet voice.



The young man nodded.  "I wish to discuss my present target."



Andwyn nodded.  He knew exactly to whom the young man referred, and would
have even had he not reviewed the young man's record.  He might have
hesitated before identifying the man for longer if they had not been
sitting in his office, but he made absolutely certain that this office was
safe at all times.  "Vincent Lois," he responded as a simple statement of
fact.



The spy had settled into a more comfortable posture across from Andwyn.  He
nodded slowly.  "I wished to speak with you about some doubts I have about
him," he admitted.



The bat kept his eyes settled on the man in a steady stare, his wings
fluttering with just a hint of motion before they settled once again.  "Doubts
can be deadly for men of our trade," he noted without a hint of emotion.



The young spy cast about for something else to focus his eyes on.  He found
it difficult to do so, however, not because of a lack of things to focus
on, but because of a surplus.  The spymaster’s quarters, already cramped in
size, were filled from corner to corner with shelves, their contents
managing to seem both organized and superfluous at once.  Few of the things
that the younger spy could cast his gaze upon had an apparent purpose, and
he supposed that such was part of the design of the room.  One did not
simply become a spymaster without knowing how to hide important things in
plain sight.



"I realize that, sir,” he finally continued after abandoning his search.  “That
is why I came to you."



Andwyn kept his eyes focused on the human, by he offered a small nod of
approval.  "What can you say of Lois so far?" he asked.



The young man sighed, but both of them knew that the information would be
important to their continuing discussion.  "It has been a difficult
exercise," he admitted.  "Lois has not been hiding at all, but he spends
much of his time in the upper Keep.  Staying close enough to him to observe
and far enough away to remain inconspicuous while at once braving Kyia's
constant shifting is always an entertaining diversion." The remark was
clearly intended to be somewhat humorous, but it was delivered with the
same bland lack of enthusiasm as might have been used to describe the
weather.



"You are prepared for it, however," the bat replied.



The young man sniffed.  "Of course.  My training saw to that."



"What can you tell me of the man himself?" Andwyn queried.



"Since returning from his patrol, he has occupied himself with a variety of
things.  As per previous information, he has continued to train his
apprentice since her return from a brief absence.  Recently he personally
contacted a tinsmith, Snow, regarding the creation of a lighter, more
effective replacement for the severed leg of Master Gerard Oakthane, which
was very recently completed."



"Have you managed to infiltrate his quarters?"



The young man nodded.  "He does not check the surroundings as much as a man
of his reputation might be expected to.  I have now infiltrated his
chambers twice while he was within them, and he made no extended search
that might have turned up my location."



"Or perhaps he noticed your presence and no extended search was warranted."



"Sir?  Are you so uncertain of my abilities?"  The question might have
carried with it some hint of pride, but instead connoted nothing but
disappointment.



Andwyn offered a barely-visible smile along with his response.  "I do not
question your abilities so much as I recognize those of the man who you
have been assigned to watch.  I personally searched his quarters when he
had first arrived in Metamor, with Lord Thomas' warning to deliver once the
assassin arrived.  When I announced my presence, he did not even show the
least sign of surprise, and he was able to identify me by name before even
turning to face me.  Lois is more aware of his surroundings than many
others, but he is also extremely self-assured.  He will not necessarily
reveal you simply because he realizes that you are watching.  Do remember,
however, that Lois has now lived almost twenty years since joining the most
deadly profession in the Midlands.  Overconfidence is no boon against him."



The young man sat silently for a few moments, taking in the words of the
spymaster.  He straightened his back a bit before he spoke again, and the
subtle confidence that backed every word remained unaffected.  "With
respect, Master Andwyn, I wonder how much of a threat the man is at all."



Andwyn's face lacked some of the familiar expressiveness that was taken for
granted by many humans, but he managed to convey the emotion of a raised
eyebrow using a similarly uncomplicated set of gestures.  "You have read
the available information on the assassin, correct?  Of course you have,
you would not have been assigned to him if you had not."  His gaze remained
level on the young man's face for a few moments of silence before he spoke
once more.  "The answer to your considerations is that Vincent Lois is a
deadly enemy.  He has not been active for the past few years, perhaps, but
the debriefing from his recent patrol would suggest that he has lost none
of his skill for dealing death."



"I recognize his abilities, sir.  I wonder more regarding his motivations.  I
have seen no time in which he has either done or planned any harm to any
man or woman in this Keep."



Andwyn managed an odd sound that suggested a derisive snot from his muzzle.
"You are privy to his private thoughts, then?  You have taken counsel with
his conscience?  Witnessed the machinations behind his eyes as he considers
the very best way to kill every man he meets?"



"No.  Have you?"



The sudden and very serious interjection brought the Keep's master of
intelligence up short.  Few dared to challenge him on any matter, and those
who did often outranked him.  The rest, at least those who knew of him and
what I was he had done during his prior assignments, didn't dare to
question his orders, his methods, or his observations.



The human refused to let the utter silence dissuade him, however.  He met
the bat's gaze, even as he kept a white-knuckle grip on the edge of the
writing desk before him.  He had challenged his commander, and he was not
going to back down now.



"I have watched Lois myself and read the reports on his activities for the
past few months.  I expected a testing assignment, an extended game of cat
and mouse with a superior opponent.  I expected to see the things you
suggest -- the seared conscience, the dark counsels in private, the devious
workings of a twisted mind -- and I have seen none of them.  Instead, I
have observed a man who has done more for those he knows than I ever have,
and done those things in so short a period as to be ridiculous."



"Oh?  What conclusive evidences of reform has the man shown you since you
have observed him?"  Andwyn did not threaten, did not deride, but he
certainly made it plain that he expected a sufficient explanation for the
sudden challenge.



"According to the debriefings, first by Alexander ard'Valius and then by
Gerard Oakthane, regarding the patrol on which Lois was sent in
anticipation of the ducal wedding, Lois is the reason that every member of
the patrol survived the exercise."



"With the exception of Master Gerard's left leg," Andwyn noted drily.



"Better to live with one leg than to die with both," the younger spy
countered in a loose echo of the Canticles.  "Be that as it may, the
information we have from the patrol suggests that Lois rescued Gerard from
a lutin shaman and all those that followed him.  The loss of only a leg in
such a situation, given that neither man has been magically trained, is
remarkable."



"I would also note that Gerard and Lois returned nearly the entire path
from the Giantdowns without crossing paths with a patrol until reaching the
inner cordon," Andwyn replied.  "Perhaps they were simply lucky and avoided
every patrol whose path they might have crossed as they moved south.  Perhaps,
but not overly likely.  I see a far better chance that one of them wished
to reach the Keep without being waylaid.  I suggest that he knew that he
would not be questioned upon reaching the Keep given the state of health of
his companion."



The spy across the desk slumped back a bit, by his expression did not
change.  "You have no proof."



"Neither have you.  The fact is, entire point of his patrol was to distance
him from the Keep until after Lord Thomas' wedding.  Despite the loss of
Gerard's leg, the two still reached the Keep early.  Lois gave himself an
opportunity to perform an assassination of any one of a number of noble
lords and ladies in attendance with his return."



"None of them died."



"Yet."  Andwyn's face was entirely serious and accepted no question.  "Lois
didn't just happen to survive his years as an assassin.  He got very good
at it.  I personally can confirm one assassination he performed that did
not kill the target until a week after our man had left the city in which
the mission was carried out.  He simply observed the way the man lived, and
quietly set a trap on a rarely-used living area, one that only the target
used."



"It has been a month since the nobles left."



Andwyn gave a mirthless chuckle.  "Lois has had quite a while to think
since his last assassination.  I would not be completely incredulous if I
discovered that he managed to kill someone with several years' delay."



"You still assume far more than I do.  Lois returned to the Keep with great
haste, quickly enough that the Healer was very nearly able to save Gerard's
leg.  That is fact, with not a question or doubt."



"They might have diverted to Outpost to receive help more quickly," Andwyn
noted.



"You know as well as I do that Hareford has no surgeon of sufficient skill
to deal with the severity of the injury.  It would have been amputated on
the spot without the least chance of saving it.  The Keep was their best
chance."



"And how did Lois know that?”  Andwyn allowed the question to hang in the
air for a moment before moving on.  “Do you have any other reasons that I
should consider Lois reformed?" he finally asked.



The spy sighed, but nodded.  “His recent actions relating to Master Gerard
also belie his reputation.  He took from his own wallet to finance the
creation of a new limb for the man.  I would not be as surprised if Lois
stood to gain something from it, but I can see no way in which he might
profit from the enterprise.”



“He profits from the enterprise when his actions cause others to forget his
past.”  Andwyn directed a pointed glare towards the younger man.  “Keep in
mind, Lois is now nearing his fortieth year of life, and twentieth year as
an assassin.  He will have learned not to rush by this point in his career.
It is this ability to manipulate short-term events to effect the long term
that makes him dangerous.  That is why I have assigned you, among others,
to watch him.  We cannot guarantee that he presents a threat; that is true.
Being hasty in concluding that he is no threat at all, however, is folly.”



The young man shook his head for a moment, but he could not argue with the
intelligence chief’s assessment of the situation.



Andwyn rocked on his chair for a moment.  He knew that the young man was
not trying to challenge his authority.  He was just falling victim to a
tendency that Andwyn had long since been rid of.  “You want to think the
best of people; it is a trait that is admirable in almost any situation.  Any
situation, except for espionage.  As spies, we must be naturally and
invariably cynical.  Nothing our targets do should affect our opinion of
them in any way.  We are employed to report the hidden facts about our
targets, not our own opinions about them, regardless of the nature of those
facts.  Decisions can be made later based on the information we deliver,
but it is not for us to make quick judgments.”



The young man was silent for a while, tugging at the collar of the hood
that was designed to hide his entire face when he was on a mission.  He
still seemed a bit conflicted, but it was not long before he finally
relented and gave a short nod.  “Forgive me, sir.  I believe I spoke out of
turn.  I realize the importance of my mission, and will make all effort to
see that it is completed.  It is simply that this man unsettles me.  It
seems to me almost as though we are tracking the wrong man, as though the
true Vincent Lois has switched places with this one to throw us from his
track.”



Andwyn nodded.  “Such fears are not entirely unwarranted.  Although I have
never heard of Lois doing anything similar himself, paying a man to carry
the name of an assassin for a short time has been attempted before, with
varying degrees of success.  Vincent Lois is a man I have been tracking for
some time, however.  I can personally assure you that we are spying on the
right man.”



“Why is he so important?” the young man asked.  “According to the
information I have been given on the man, he has only ventured this far
north once before, and assassinated no one while he was here.  At that
point you were not even involved in deciding the course of Metamor’s
intelligence.  How and why have you been personally tracking him for so
long?”



Andwyn smiled.  The young man was good, jumping on so small a slip of the
tongue.  The bat considered that faking that it was simply a mistake would
be easy, given how difficult it was for humans to read his face, but he
decided that misdirecting the young man would be just as effective.



“Lois is of interest to this entire Keep due to his choice of careers,”
Andwyn replied.  “In addition to the danger of him being hired against us,
there was also some talk of using him for our own needs.  It was decided
that he was too dangerous to be trusted, but we kept eyes on him
regardless.”



The man on the far side of the desk nodded slowly.  “Is there any thought
of using him now?” he asked.



Andwyn stretched his wings a bit in his approximation of a shrug.  “He
would need to show himself trustworthy for a while longer, but it has not
been ruled out,” he admitted.  “With his participation in the patrols, he
is already aiding us.  Assassination is a bit of a more sensitive
matter.  Ideally,
it implies him being alone, in the same room as a high-profile target.  He
has set precedent for selling information, or even counter-assassination
attempts, to the man he was hired to kill.  We need to be absolutely
certain of his allegiance before we allow it.”



The human had already started to replace his disguise by the time the
spymaster had finished, and he nodded his understanding at the end of the
bat’s statement.  “I had best get some rest while someone else is following
Lois, then,” he said, voice muffled through the scarf that covered his face.



Andwyn nodded.  “You’re a very skilled spy,” he confided with the young man.
“But, don’t let your doubts steal away your chances for success.”



The human conveyed his gratitude briefly before he turned away and headed
for the door for a moment.  Before he had reached the doorway, however, he
turned back to the spymaster.  “I have one more question,” he said
slowly.  “How
long has he used that name?”



“Pardon?”  Andwyn looked up from where his eyes had strayed to a few of the
numerous notes meticulously organized on his desk.


“Vincent Lois.  How long has he used that alias?”
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