by R Mountebank
Kyron was seated at his throne in the adventurer’s hall, listening to Heronitas and Vayn regale the table with their previous exploits over foreign lands and seas when Jeremy Ballard, his spymaster, entered the crowded hall. The normally stoic Ballard looked startled. He pointed at the opposite door and slipped back outside.
“…so there she was, drunk out of her mind on mead. When what should crawl out of the fire? An Ifrit!” roared Heronitas with laughter.
“Tell them the next part!” said Vayn, slapping the table.
As Kyron got to his feet, the table grew quiet.
“Please continue, my friends. I need to see a man about a whale,” said the giant man.
Heronitas wasted no time. “And I yell ‘Move your tail feathers, Vayn!’ And what does she do? She rolls over and vomits in this thing’s face! And it explodes!”
Vayn was laughing as loud as Heronitas, who howled like a banshee. Kyron smiled and strode through the hall to his chambers. He unlocked the heavy door and let himself in. Ballard was waiting for him, just as he had expected.
Kyron bell was a fast man, perhaps the fastest. And yet it always surprised him how Ballard got about the shop so quickly.
“Sir, I have important news,” started Ballard.
“How important?” asked Kyron.
The spymaster nodded his head.
Kyron crossed the room and lit a sickly looking candle atop of a side-cabinet. The candle burned a wretched black flame which poured a thick stream of grey smoke. The smoke helped dissuade any eavesdroppers that were listening in on the wind. Soon the whole room was filled with its foul stench.
“Speak,” said Kyron.
Ballard bowed his head. “Master, one of our spies has confirmed a sighting of the Beggar Knight, Percival, near the West coast.”
“What?!” asked Kyron, incredulously. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir. It has been confirmed by several sources,” said Ballard. “But more, he claims he has been freed from Avalon in order to find the Grail.”
Kyron trembled slightly. The implications of The Holy Grail…
“…that’s…”
“Naturally I have kept this information confidential,” said Ballard. “Several of my spies unfortunately had to be retired.”
“And does he know?” whispered Kyron.
“The old bastard? No,” said Ballard, smiling.
Kyron nodded his head. “Then let’s keep it that way.” The big man started to pace as he thought. “We will need to send someone to retrieve it at once… someone that can infiltrate the Beggar Knight’s camp and gain his confidence.”
“There is one that will be more than suitable,” said Ballard.
“Yes,” replied Kyron. “The Horn girl. She is perfect.”
Kyron tapped his cheek, thinking. “Yes. We must inform our master. He will be most impressed if we deliver The Holy Grail to him.” Kyron blew out the candle’s flame and retrieved two glasses and a bottle of whiskey from inside the side-cabinet. He poured generously into both glasses and gave one to Ballard.
“We will be princes of the new paradise!” said the giant.
Ballard smiled deviously and touched his glass to Kyron’s. “Here’s to Ragnarök.”