King Merrill of the Island Kingdom wasn't used to be summoned by anyone. In fact he was quite angry about being disturbed as he was taking his pleasure with a young slave boy. His secret penchant for children was well known among those tasked with protecting the kings person so the guard his interrupted the king pretended not to notice the terrified child.
"Forgive me sire, but you presence is needed immediately." The guard was careful to keep his eyes fixed on an imaginary spot on the ceiling.
"Who the hell do you think you are, disturbing me? If this isn't critically important the next post you will have is the one I have shoved up your behind!" the king shouted as he hastily rearranged his robes.
"Apologies sire, but the spymaster said it was now and when I told him you were otherwise engaged he insisted on pain of my death that I find you!' The guard wasn't really afraid of the king but he was terrified of the spymaster. More than one who had stood against him had found not just their lives but their entire family's were forfeit. The screams from the dungeons and the tales that followed spoke to the power the spymaster wielded, albeit on the king's behalf.
The king was livid but admitted that the spymaster was the only reason he was still in power. More than one ruler of the Island Kingdom had found his reign cut short from poison or rebellion. The current spymaster was fiercely loyal, perhaps because the king never questioned his methods or for some unknown reason. In any case, he was the only person the king would have allowed to disturb him. It didn't make the king any less angry.
Throwing open the door that led to the small inner chamber the spymaster called his office, the king marched in and demanded loudly, "What do you mean by disturbing me? The spymaster was a diminutive man, with a long narrow face that more than one nobleman had suggested looked like a rat's. Always dressed in a black robe with a hood over his head the spymaster and many of those who worked for him could have been mistaken for priests. Perhaps that was because, to them, espionage and intelligence were a religion.
"I mean to warn you that we have a warship missing and spies that not a few days ago walked freely about one of our ports!" replied the spymaster quietly.
"Spies? Spies? What spies? Why have I not heard of this before? And spies for who?" the king was quite shocked. There had not been a foreign boot on their soil without their knowledge in his life time.
"I thought that might get your attention, your Majesty!" the spymaster acknowledged wryly. "The 'who' I don't know for sure yet. I didn't inform you because I sent the warship Demonar after the spies' vessel. Their orders were to sink them and return with the two my agents identified. That was a week ago."
"Are you certain they are not late?" The king asked.
"Yes. They sailed within hours of the trader and would have been back within a six day at most. This is day seven so they will not be coming back. Sire, I cannot do more without you issuing some orders." The spymaster sighed. That wasn't strictly true and they both knew it but the king was the king. It was better that the commands came from him.
"So what do you want to do?" The king waited.
"From what my agents gathered they are heading for the Spires. That means they must go south west and then dock. We can't afford to provoke Karlath so I recommend we send out a half dozen ships and patrol the waters that separate our two kingdoms. Whatever these spies are up to, they have to come back this way to return to their masters. When they do, we capture them and discover who dares to spy on us and Karlath."
The king considered the spymasters words. "Should we not send an emissary to Karlath and warn him as well? It would explain our ships and might increase the pressure on these spies."
"Only if you want Karlath's spymaster to have the intelligence and for us to be in the dark. Majesty, this could be Mornan, the Western Kingdom or even Grall. We don't know anything unless we can get those men in our hands and I can extract the information we need. What if this is a prelude to invasion? What if our enemies are working together? Could we defeat the Kingdom and Mornan's combined navies?" The spymaster was genuinely worried. No nation had dared spy on them for hundreds of years. Had the long peace just been a prelude to war? Even his powerful secret contact in the Western Kingdom had not given him any hints that such a possibility existed. Could he still trust his own spy?
The king looked resolved. "Very well. Isn't the Great Lord Sor-Arhan in attendance after that debacle with the slaves? Send him. He owns a few ships doesn't he? Use them. I know I won't miss his whining and perhaps he can redeem himself after that debacle at the Citadel."
"It shall be so ordered, Majesty. I will also add a few from Bar-Melath's tithe. At least he has some sea sense and knows the waters between us and the Spires well. With your leave, sire?" The king nodded and turned back towards his own chambers. The sour taste in his mouth ruined the idea of pleasuring himself on that boy so he ordered the guards to remove him.
Jor-Barnk, Spymaster and aide to the King of the Islands kingdom watched the retreating king, careful to keep the disgust off his face. He was loyal but despised the king's personal tastes. A king should be above such base needs. Turning to a second exit from the small room, Jor-Barnk walked soundlessly down a narrow spiral staircase to exit the castle through a door no one but he and few of his agents even knew existed. If anyone noticed the small dark cloaked figure as it hurried towards the port they said nothing. Even the imprudent had learned it was best not to comment on the spymaster's comings and goings. It was known that such comments often led to an untimely death.
Finding the lodging he was seeking was no problem as the spymaster knew where every nobleman was housed. He pounded on the door and prepared to give Sor-Arhan the bad news. The loss of his daughter Moiril and the even worse loss of an entire generation of slaves had marked Sor-Arhan in the King's eyes as a complete failure. His recall from the Citadel, the bastion of first defense on the Eastern Islands, was a black mark that he could never redeem but perhaps success in this mission could bring some small measure of redemption to his family name. The door opened and Jor-Barnk stepped through.
