Chenga

Black Silk

It was a cold, dark night and Gamesh stood before the Gates of Deneb.  He wore a heavy wool cloak, and beneath, clothes of black silk, which were cut in a style that no Peytahn would ever wear.  He just hoped this was going to work.

The small door set into the main gates opened, and there... just as agreed, stood Karrack Korim.

'Get yerself inside quick... and watch yer head: tight squeeze through that door.'  Korim gestured for Gamesh to enter the doorway.  The tall Peytahn ducked and pushed himself through the sally port.  He glanced upwards, as he entered, at the murder holes up above.  So far so good.  Korim swung the small door closed, bolted it in place and slid a thick metal cover over the door.  'Here Gamesh, you might be needing this.'  As Korim spoke he handed the Peytahn the small silver cylinder lined with raised buttons.

'You word is your bond, Karrack Korim.'  Gamesh bowed slighlty to the short, stocky man in front of him and slipped the small metal device into a pocket of his cloak.

'Now, as far as the Legion goes, they don't know you are here.  Aelfdan is willing to turn a blind eye, but you'd better find something good on the Kula-Mar.  I'll show you the way to the Kula-Mar compound.'  With that, Karrack Korim stomped off into the city, with Gamesh, son of Karsh, following in the shadows.

Through the streets they walked.  A few ale houses were still open, but with the winter cold, most people were off the streets.  All the street urchins and beggars were holed up in the sewers and tunnels beneath the city.  At an ale house called 'The Black Boar', Korim came to a stop.

'The Kula-Mar compound is up ahead.  They'll have two guards at the gate and plenty more inside.  Don't know how yer gonna get in there.'  Korim shook his head.

'Just leave that to me.  A word of warning to you... once the sun comes up make sure you stay inside: the sunlight is not kind to ones such as me... and now you.'

Korim nodded.  'Understood.  Fare ye well.'  With that Karrack Korim reached out a hand.  Gamesh reached out his and they shook hands.  Korim turned and began the short walk back to the Shardahn Legion barracks.

Gamesh looked at the lighted window of 'The Black Boar'.  From his pocket he drew the small mirror he had taken from the hut of Karrack Korim.  In the faint light cast from the ale house he looked at his face.  He closed his eyes and concentrated on the scent of the woman that now poured from his skin.  He felt the scent rise and waft all around him.  And then, he thought of the Kula-Mar emissary, K'Emchek... the one who wore black silk.   In his mind he could see the arrogant features and the cock sure smile and those smooth, bare features, upon which anything could be written, perhaps anything but the truth, that is.

Gamesh opened his eyes and looked in the mirror.  The face that stared back at him was no longer his own, but that of K'Emchek.  Just one thing remained.  Gamesh closed his eyes once more and thought of the build and stature of the Kula-Mar emissary, and the way he had walked and held his posture.  At last Gamesh was beginning to understand the gift that he had been given.  He could change the way his body looked.  Some of that was through physical changes, but much was through illusion and the power of the narcotic scent that oozed from his pores.  The last touch in his transformation was to smell like the Kula-Mar emissary.  Again, he thought of the essence of arrogance and contempt.  His work was done.  Gamesh opened his eyes and looked into the mirror, the face that looked mockingly back at him was perfect... a perfect human.

The two guards stood, near frozen, at a sentry box, beside the guard-house, warming their hands over a brazier.  They heard footsteps approaching and looked up, to see a cloaked and hooded figure heading towards them.