Of Plots and Mischief

Chapter 4: Rumours and spies

They were quiet as they walked back to the ship, watching the sorry state the town had gone to. The decline had started before the ports had closed, but it had really turned bad after the stop in the flow of trade. The South had blamed the capital, quite naturally, and Phyllon was not sure what he felt about their response or rather lack of it. He wondered whether they had underestimated the reports and wondered whether, just maybe, the opposition were justified in their complaints against the royal family. Not that he had any support for the secessionists, but his Gift made him a bit more sceptical than most.

He thought about the young prince. He seemed alright, if not a bit immature. It was clear the prince was utterly ignorant of the situation, but strangely enough, so was the ambassador, it seemed. He was not sure how that was possible, given that even he had heard rumours during the last few weeks at court.

On the other hand, there was enough trouble at court when he had left, so it was likely that they had underestimated the threat given the limited reports they had received, and of course, there was the recent quarantine affecting the region. He felt sympathy for the king, whose oldest son and heir had been stuck on the other side of the border in Livijov.

He absentmindedly handed over a coin to buy a small bundled loaf from a young girl standing outside her door, thanking her as he walked away. He offered it to the captain before buying himself a second. They walked in mutual silence, each in their own thoughts, until the captain broke it hesitantly.

"Do you, do you ever regret having to come back?" He gestured at the town. "Especially..."

Phyllon gave the question the consideration it deserved. "No." He was a bit surprised to realise it was true. "I can do good here. Not as much, but some." He glanced around and realised what he had to do. He parted ways with the captain as he decided to put his plan into action.

He had not expected much to come out of it, at least not so soon, so he had been leisurely on his way back to the ship after he realised he had finished everything he could do for them. His father had sent fewer instructions as the time went on, mostly just a few suggestions, which he took as a good sign. He loitered down the ports, listening, eavesdropping, really, to the various conversations that were going around. He could not help but be intrigued by the new rumours he heard about a famed mercenary being sighted on their shores.

His mind was still turning over the rumours he heard about this 'Rauthian Scourge' when he returned to the ship to find a familiar figure waiting for him. He could not help but smile as he saw the Sahora's spymaster, his mentor, and fellow conspirator of much of his childhood.

"Torynik," he exclaimed as he greeted the older man. "I didn't expect to see you so soon. How are you and the kids?"

"Scamping about like the little monkeys they are. They would give me grey hairs one of these days," he grinned at the old joke. "As for being here, I was in the region. I thought you might need a familiar face, all things considered."

Phyllon shifted uncomfortably. "You heard?"

"Aye. It appears you cannot go anywhere without making much to do, ey?" Torynik shrugged, an action that made the beads in his shoulder-length hair bounce. It was the one concession to his origin he kept, though Phyllon never found out where that was.

Phyllon eyed the sailors who were surreptitiously trying to eavesdrop. "Let's look for the captain. I'm sure he would love to see you again, too."

"You are looking pretty well, all things considered," he added with a glint in his eyes.

"I make do with what life throws at me."

They walked in silence as they made their way to the captain's quarters. "He misses you, you know. You are all he has left."

Phyllon waited for the familiar anger and realised that it had left after their earlier conversation. "I miss the Sahora too."

Torynik wrinkled his nose. "You know that he doesn't like it when you call him that." Phyllon grinned. Torynik shook his head in amusement. "You are all trouble."

"If you are talking about Phyllon, I have to agree with you there." They both turned as the captain spoke up behind them. "Come to my quarters, we will have more privacy there."
They waited until they were safely inside, and Torynik put out one of the anti-espionage stones he carried around with him.

Torynik grew more serious as he took out a small packet. "There is good news and bad news. The good news is, you won't have much real trouble from Gerash even if you take the royal duo with you on your voyage, but it might be best to check in with him. He has some ideas on how to turn this around."

Phyllon felt a spike of anxiety from the captain. "How did you - we only just -"

"Don't worry, that was always going to happen,"

"So that was a guess?" Phyllon smiled at his mentor, who smiled back.

"Yes and no. It was the most predicted outcome, but there is something you don't know about the trip."

"What is it?" The captain asked, leaning forward. Torynik returned the gesture.

"There is a reason why there is a sudden interest in the Caroean sea, and it has something to do with the pandemic next door. There is more to it, but there is a more immediate concern."

"The secessionist problem," Phyllon said quietly.

Torynik beamed. "Exactly. And unless something is done about it, it is going to cause serious problems for everyone, but especially for you."

"Are you talking about the Sahora or-"

"Both. Nestor and the Sahora are both known supporters of the kingdom, different as they may be, and should the secessionists succeed, Phyllon here would certainly be affected by it." Torynik held the captain's eyes as he answered his question.

"What is going on in that front?"

"They are being a bit smarter this time. They are now working undercover, inciting the population, causing trouble. They are trying to get the population made at the capital so that it can be a true revolt."

"Like the sailors," Captain Drwyn mused.

"Sailors?"

Phyllon filled him in on the earlier incident. Torynik nodded. "That tracks. They have done things like that in other cities before. But things are only likely to escalate unless we can change things around. As I said, Gerash has an idea, one involving the prince."

"And on that note, I better get going." He stood up, slipping the stones back into his pocket as he turned to leave. "The little scamps would be up to who knows what trouble by now."

"'Nik?" He paused, looking at Phyllon expectantly. "Thank you."

Torynik looked up and gave Phyllon a nod in acknowledgement. He did not show it in his expression, but Phyllon felt the rush of affection and care through his Gift. "I'll be back when I am needed, kid." Phyllon did not doubt it.

"Kids?" The captain asked once Torynik was presumably out of hearing.

Phyllon smiled. "The ones he is training. He calls them kids no matter how old they are because he starts their training young."

Captain Drwyn eyed Phyllon. "He calls you kid. Did he?" Phyllon only smiled. Captain Drwyn shook his head. "Will we be seeing him again soon?"

Phyllon shrugged. "You can never tell with him. But if we ever happen to need him, you can trust he will be around."