The Taleweaver

Departure, part two

Colonel Trindai de Laiden sat slouched in a chair, posture belying his station in the imperial army. After twenty years of active service in the assault cavalry he had advanced to the lofty rank where he only gave orders to his desk and the papers cluttering it. Two inconvenient secrets disclosed and a demotion from general to colonel later he was, to his own immense relief, transferred to a special command.

Now he took orders from Madame de Felder, Keen's spy master, holding a position where he could do a real soldier's work. One, he admitted to himself, from which he no longer undermined other operations where too many prying eyes could see the flaws he pointed out. All in all a very satisfying solution to a shared problem.

He was clad in worn leathers revealing nothing of who employed him.

"... volunteers are reassigned?"

Trindai smiled. "Yes, the Feeble Incompetents are indeed reassigned." He put on the airs of a green recruit. "Being but a lawful citizen of Keen I dutifully reported what I witnessed at Krante Gates."

Mairild de Felder glared at him and he returned the favor with a growl.

"General de Markand had the idiots transferred to do their holy duty hunting practitioners of the forbidden arts along the coast south of Hasselden," Trindai ended the report.

Madame de Felder winced. "They'll encounter problems operating outside of our jurisdiction."

"They'll encounter swift and certain death at the hands of the raiders," Trindai added mirthlessly. "Just as you would have it. This way it's a military matter. No traces will lead back here."

He watched the older woman's tight smile. Where he was a soldier she was a predator, expertly equipped for the underhand machinations he disliked. Disliked but acknowledged the need for. Keen needed both kinds, as she needed craftsmen, scholars, farmers and traders.

Rigid adherence to ideals left nations open to scavengers. Like poor Chach that was torn apart by factions commanding enough swords to temporarily gain control of a county or two only to have that power wrested from them a generation later.

He even suspected she employed wielders of the forbidden arts whenever need was great enough, but as long as no one openly displayed the use of magic within the borders of Keen he was satisfied.

"The sky port?" she asked.

"Will be guarded by the Holy Inquisition henceforth," Trindai answered. "De Markand made it clear he wouldn't risk de Saiden's reputation by having that piss poor excuse for a military unit endangering our relations with the outworlders."

"Good. With that matter closed we'll proceed with the next item."

Trindai let go of his posture of tired disinterest. Now they were finally approaching the real reason for his presence. "Yes?"

"How soon can you have your men ready?" Madame de Felder asked making ready with pen and paper to jot down information and orders.

"Within a day, apart from Major Berdaler's squadron around Roadbreak." Trindai summed up the number of relays in his head. "With the use of the farwriter and another two days for rounding up the men, ah, four days before he can act on orders I send him."

"Excellent! He's to ride to Ri Nachi and escort traders to Braka."

Trindai smiled as the glimmer of interest grew to anticipation. "Ri Nachi is almost a season's travel from here, not to speak of Braka. May I ask for the reason?"

"More than that," de Felder answered. "You'll have a field command again," she added, giving him what he had hoped for. "An independent merchant has been sponsored into a full house. His name is Harbend de Garak, and he's reopening the land route to Braka for trade."

"Sounds expensive," Trindai thought aloud. "Especially if you plan to use my full command as escort."

"It is, and I am," she responded affirmatively, but there was a tired quality to her voice that had him worried.

He shot her a quizzical look.

"Look, harvest's been decent. Better than decent, but that still doesn't make the raiders go away."

Trindai waited patiently. Madame de Felder sometimes explained her reasons when all but the best of officers would have stayed silent.

"House de Garak is setting up a major caravan. With luck he might even squeeze a profit out of it, but as far as Keen is concerned it's nothing but grand theater."

"Yes?" Trindai said no longer certain he wanted to know.

"We desperately need that show. At the end of the festival I'll have a pompous declaration made to enforce the impression that Keen knows how to take matters in hand." She offered him a harried expression.

"Or else?"

"Or else you and de Markand along with most of our senior staff will be commanding troops against our own within the year. The Ministry of War as well as the Ministry of Commerce gives us two years, three at most, before the border provinces starts revolting."

Darkness! "I have the utmost respect for Olvar de Saiden, but the greedy bastards in commerce, well..."

"I've had the estimations confirmed by, let's call it external sources," de Felder countered.

When the need is great enough, Trindai thought, and for the first time in years he was discomforted by the fear of the unknown. Still, there was a part to play he knew well enough. He rose. "I take it you've arranged for the guaranteed absence of any mercenaries apart from my men," he muttered as he left in order to gather his men.

Madame de Felder nodded. The silence was only broken by the ringing of his heeled riding boots on marble floor as he marched out.