<html> <head> <meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> </head> <body bgcolor="#FFFFFF" text="#000000"> <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> Here is part 5 of Spies and Assassins! Enjoy. -LurkingWolf --- Andwyn looked at Lois impassively as the ermine sat on the opposite side of the desk from him. His informants had brought the news of the assassin’s coming only a few moments before the man himself had arrived, and Andwyn thought their haste to send word ahead indicated that Lois was making for the chamber with sinister purpose. Lois had met Andwyn’s personal defensive precautions with barely a raised eyebrow, and once Andwyn was certain that the man posed no immediate threat, they had settled down on either side of the bat’s desk.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “It is not often that I allow meetings on such short notice, especially with men I consider to be on the wrong side of neutral,” Andwyn stated matter-of-factly. “I do hope you make this exception worth my time.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Lois nodded. “That depends heavily upon how you feel about my proposal,” Lois replied. He reached into a pouch by his side and pulled a strip of cloth out in full view of Andwyn. He didn’t want the bat to think that he was going for a weapon. He tossed it onto the desk, leaving it for the bat’s gaze. Without even glancing at it, Andwyn identified the scrap.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “A lutin emblem, Wounded Moon tribe to be precise, spattered with lutin blood to make it look as though it had come from a fallen foe.” He sounded bored as he ran through the facts, but flashed the smile of a man who knew more than his counterpart. “I say to make it appear as though it had come from a fallen lutin because the lutin whose blood is stained on the surface of this cloth live comfortably here within the walls of the Keep. You have come to be on his behalf.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “No, I come to you on mine.” Lois glared at the bat. “How long have you known about Balrog?”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Andwyn shrugged. “Do not feel like a traitor, Lois, even a skilled mage cannot escape our notice after having entered our walls uncursed, and then remained so for nearly seven years. In fact, my intelligence officers informed me of his nature shortly after his arrival.” The bat laughed; it had an unpracticed sound to it that set Lois on edge. “I find it funny,” he said once his laughter had ended, “between you and him, he is considered the more trustworthy. When the Keep trusts a lutin more than a man, the man should begin to question his actions.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Lois ignored the jab and moved along. “I suppose you know that Balrog is a member of the Wounded Moon, then?”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Andwyn nodded. “The way you speak, I’m not certain that you actually know him better than I. Did you know that he stands to become the tribe’s shaman upon the death of his father?” Andwyn smiled at Lois’ surprised look. “Truly, you must have expected such a truth. A lutin mage powerful enough to sustain the illusion of human form every waking hour of the day must come from a very special bloodline.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Lois shook his head. The new information was surprising, even though Lois decided that he couldn’t truly blame Balrog for hiding it. It changed little, however. Perhaps it could even aid Lois’ proposition.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “On behalf of my friend, I request permission to lead a strike team to kill the tribe’s chieftain and shaman,” Lois continued.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “Assassinate them, you mean,” Andwyn commented drily.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Lois stared at him long and hard before speaking again. “Call it what you will. Every political power in the world makes use of some sort of silent killer to do its dirty work, and Metamor is no different. This operation would pose no significant change to the norm.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Andwyn scoffed. “My spies brought word to me that you had stalwartly objected to Balrog’s suggestion when it first was brought to you. They told me that it was proof that you had turned your back on your past life, and I hoped to find their baseless optimism founded in the long run. Tell me, then, why should I believe that you are not the man who I could turn over to any political power between here and Yesulam for a reward?”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Lois sat back in the chair that Andwyn had provided, sighing heavily. “I chose to accept this because I realize that my talents are bent that direction. I have no reason to believe that Metamor will not seek to exploit my talents once they trust me enough to do so, and then I doubt there will be a chance to say no beyond quitting the Keep completely. In this one instance, I at least have the choice of missions, and I have deemed it a worthwhile cause. I wish to accept this mission not out of debt to Balrog or as a mercenary on his payroll, but as a citizen of Metamor. After all, if Balrog becomes the shaman of the tribe upon the death of his predecessor, there is no doubt that he would sue for peace with Metamor.” Lois gave a small smile. “Or were you lying about the level of trust you have in him?”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “Indeed, if I authorized this mission, I would worry more about the assassin than about the tribe’s new shaman,” Andwyn replied without hesitation. “After all, unless you have changed, you are the same man who simply walked through his first assassination attempt by making deals with both sides.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “Is that a touch of admiration, or perhaps envy, I hear?” Lois asked, leaning forward. He had a confident smile on his muzzle that made his whiskers twitch. “You know as well as I do that we are both alive today for the same reasons. We did what we had to do to survive, and we are dangerously good at it.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “At the very least, I cannot argue with that,” Andwyn said quietly. He seemed very far away for a few moments, and for the first time ever, Lois could swear he saw a bit of regret in the bat’s eyes. Then it was gone again, replaced once more with the spymaster’s familiar piercing glare. “What do you wish from me? If you simply wished for authorization for a patrol in that direction, you could have manipulated Alex into it next time you’re in the field, I’m certain. You came to me for some reason, and what might that be?”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Lois smiled noncommittally. “You know of Paula, I suppose? With your constant surveillance of my activities, I don’t suppose you could have missed her.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Andwyn nodded. “I know of her. Formerly Paul, recently Cursed, and a respectably powerful clairvoyant. An interesting prospect to be certain. I am not certain why George has not assigned her a patrol yet.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “Indeed,” Lois replied. “I would like for her to be assigned to my patrol.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Andwyn seemed to roll his eyes. “I do not know if you are aware, Lois, but there has been an addition to your patrol already. Your mage, Lucy, somehow bound herself to a moondog Keeper, and the two cannot by separated by a distance of more than a few dozen feet without seriously threatening their lives. Out of necessity, they are to be assigned to the same patrol, giving you a group five strong. You are asking me to add a sixth member to an already bloated unit.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “Gerard is injured, and likely will not be able to continue combat duties for some time until he has become accustomed to his new limb,” Lois pointed out. “She could fill his position temporarily while we find some other solution.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “Temporarily.” Andwyn looked at him for a few moments before shaking his head quietly. “I do not know why I am actually considering this,” he said, sounding genuinely annoyed.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “You know that the Keep has something to gain,” Lois replied. “You may not trust me, but you at least trust the other members of my patrol enough to trust them with preventing any sort of duplicity on my part.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “I cannot guarantee that I can arrange for Paula to be permanently assigned to your unit,” Andwyn cautioned.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “Fair enough. She needs some field work at least, however.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Andwyn looked at the ermine long and hard. The spymaster had long been a master of reading men’s faces, and he was one of the few in the Keep who felt truly confident when it came to reading animal-form Keepers. The man before him was a problem. Andwyn’s intelligence claimed that Lois had once outmaneuvered three Questioners using little more than words and poise, and the bat doubted that the ermine had lost any of his touch over the years. He sat across from the Keep’s intelligence chief, taunting him with his lack of useful body language and an infuriatingly confident smile on the corners of his muzzle.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> There was more to the enigma of the man than what was said about his time as an assassin, however, information that had been trusted to Andwyn, and him alone. It would have been no exaggeration to say that Vincent Lois had been under observation from Metamor spies since the time of his birth. That extra information tore Andwyn between trusting Lois for this one task and maneuvering to have him killed as a threat to the Keep.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “I will have the strike arranged as soon as possible,” Andwyn finally concluded. “Make no mistake; you are not the commander of the unit. That priority belongs to Alex. I trust him enough to keep you in check, even if I do wish that I had Gerard to trust in that regard as well.” He gave a smile that seemed to hide a hint of threat. “I suppose I do have Julian, though, and I assure you that he is more than capable of killing you should the need arise.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “It will not,” Lois affirmed. “It may take some time, Andwyn, but you will learn to trust me. I hope then that we will be able to meet on more civil terms.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Andwyn scoffed. “I do not have time for civility. Duty drives me to misanthropy.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Lois stood, giving a nod to Andwyn before stepped towards the door. Andwyn watched him go until the door had closed. Once he was alone in his office once more, he moved over to one of the many chaotic bundles of flotsam that occupied his quarters. He retrieved a stack of papers with his claws and tossed them onto his desk. He flicked through them until he reached the last of the papers, frowning as he read the words.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> "My activities are discovered. I will flee alone into the wild to draw them off. I have no right to ask anything from the Keep, but please, for the sake of Eli, see to me wife and son. They have no part in this, yet I fear that they will bear the cost of my risk."<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Andwyn tapped the parchment quietly. "Seven intelligence reports, filed under the name of Vincent ard'Julius. Marked poison, operative was declared dead between nine and eleven years before their delivery. No action taken."<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> The bat sighed, staring at the closed door. He knew the words on those pages better than any. He had delivered them at the request of the spy in question, always assuming that the Metamor intelligence community was taking them into account whenever they were delivered. In the end, it wasn't until he had taken the mantle of spymaster that he learned the truth. The pages, though decades old, looked almost new, as none had touched them for ages. Why they had never been burned, as so many others of their same sort had been burned before, was beyond Andwyn's reckoning. All he knew was that reading the last page was like hearing the screams of a dying man, knowing that none would help him.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> "Vincent Lois... Do you even know the risks that your father took to protect this Keep? To protect you?" He shook his head. "And he lost you these thirty years.” The bat winced, looking back down at his desk. “What worries me is that I can only account for the last twenty. Where did you go? And what happened in that time to make you who you are now?”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> <span style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language: EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA">The Keep’s spymaster sighed and gathered the papers to return them to their customary place. Lois was hardly the only mystery that was bothering him, but he was one of the few that was living within the same walls. <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 15"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 15"> <link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CNathan%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">  <link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CNathan%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"> <link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CNathan%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml">  <style>  </style> </body> </html>