by Guy Antibes
~
By the time Panix made his way to the Summer’s Wilt, the tavern had filled up. The sounds of drinking, singing, the clanking of mugs and the general hubbub somehow made him nervous tonight. Perhaps it had something to do with Sovell. As much as he respected his mental capabilities, something about him struck a false chord. He saw Sovell sitting in a corner. Two mugs were on the table, with another at his lips, indicating that Sovell had a head start.
“Hello, Sovell.” Panix took a chair at the table. “Have you had anything to eat?”
“I’m not hungry. Don’t let me stop you,” he said with reddening eyes as the strong ale had started to relax the man.
Panix ordered a light meal and a mug of ale for himself. He sat back as Sovell drained the mug and ordered another.
They began to talk. First, they talked about metalworks business. The sounds of the tavern made both of them speak more loudly. It seemed to suit Sovell as his speech began to slur a bit. Then the conversation turned personal.
“I was reminded tonight that I knew a Gavid some years ago. All the way down in Korvanna, and now I know two Gavids in Pent City.”
“Two Gavids in Pent City?”
“Yes, I met her tonight. You really know how to pick them, Panix. She is a beautiful woman. However, I do believe you are better off without her.”
Panix was still nursing his first mug and had to control himself to keep from spitting out the ale in his mouth. How could have run across Merra and size her up so well? Merra had cost him many sleepless nights, but he couldn’t shake off the sour taste of what should have been a blissful relationship.
“I’ll be the judge of that. Now what about the Gavid you knew in Mella?”
“Ah.” Sovell closed his eyes and smiled. “It was three or so years ago. She was beautiful. A beautiful widow. Had a son named Aston, if I remember correctly. I had some good times,” he gave Panix a leer, “really good times with her.”
Sovell bragged about taking Panix’s stepmother and it caused Panix’s heart to beat faster.
“Polla was quite a woman.” Sovad raised his eyebrows and took another large swig of his mug.
Panix struggled with himself. The table began to shake. The chandeliers swayed a little. No one really noticed in the noisy tavern. He looked for his center and barely gained control.
Sovell looked at Panix. “The table shook. Was that you?” A look of comprehension came over him. “You’re really from Mella aren’t you? Your mother…” he said. He covered his eyes with his hand and shook his head. “You must think I’m a real bastard.”
“My stepmother. Not long after my father, her husband died. I agree, you certainly are a bastard.” Panix shot up, unable to trust himself, and stalked off.
~
Panix reached his town house and walked through to his well-manicured back garden. He couldn’t believe Sovell’s revelation would affect him so deeply. He continued to fume, thinking about the man meeting up with his drunken ex-wife and then his mother lying in Sovell’s arms while his father lie dead in the grave.
Lifting his arm towards a wooden bench, he concentrated. It burst into flame. As Panix continued to point, the bench rose, still burning. He turned the flames to green, then to a brilliant blue. Snapping his fingers, the bench disintegrated into ashes falling on the grasses below.
He collapsed onto the grass; ashamed he had used his magic to destroy. Panix shouldn’t indulge in his feelings to lose that kind of control, ever.
His thoughts turned back to Sovell. He could no longer continue working with the man. Was Sovell his mother’s reason for keeping his father’s death a secret? Maybe to avoid an investigation that would have killed the affair? No. He said three years ago. That would be after Panix started working for Baltac.
He lay on his back and reached within himself desperately hoping to find his center. As he looked up at the stars poking through the clouds, he could feel the cold dampness of the grass through his clothes, but he didn’t care. He took note of his discomfort, Panix took it as a small measure of penance. The beggar’s moon, smallest of Dornna’s Three, peeked out with its wan orange light. Panix thought of himself like that, a small cog being shuffled by circumstances. Perhaps he needed a sabbatical, some time away from his job. A change of scenery might help him chase away the demons of his father’s demise, his mother’s affair, and his own failure with Merra. Why did Sovell have to show up? Panix couldn’t believe how quickly his own emotions could destroy his well-being.
Escape? he thought. Perhaps. His father’s picture flashed into his mind. Rennis Gavid. The death still worked its way into his mind, into his very soul. Like a relentless worm devouring a piece of furniture. Panix grabbed his face. Would this obsession make his mind crumble like a pest-ridden chair?
Maybe it was time to renew his acquaintance with Quill Vent and see if there was something he could do for his home country and give him the opportunity to find out about his father’s death?
~
Foald Baltac sat at his desk, chalk in hand writing figures on a slate. He was unsatisfied by the result and grabbed a damp cloth to erase the numbers. Panix sat patiently waiting for him to finish.
Baltac smiled, finally getting sums that pleased him and looked at Panix. “I hope you didn’t come in here to complain that I fired Sovell this morning. But when a man’s references don’t hold up—two of them were living out of Pent and the last one was forced to admit he’d never actually met the man—I don’t hire them. It seems Sovell was pumping me for information on my company’s capabilities. I’ll bet he’s from some other Dornnan metalworking firm trying to steal our secrets. Sovell’s probably not even Pentish.”
Although Panix welcomed the news, personally it didn’t make him any happier. “Nevertheless, he did know his stuff about defining what to make and observing what works and what doesn’t. That list we put together has enough product ideas and a methodology that should serve the works for years. He and I had an argument last night in the Summer’s Wilt. That’s why I’m here.”
“Oh?” Baltac raised an eyebrow. He waved at Panix to sit in the too-comfortable chair in the lush office. Fine carpets on the floor set off the exotic woods in Baltac’s office furniture. He once thought the best place for him would be where Baltac now sat, but that no longer seemed to be the case.
“Sovell admitted to me last night that he had an affair with my stepmother sometime after my father died. I wouldn’t be able to put that behind me. It’s been hard enough dealing with Polla without this knowledge. He also found out about Merra.”
“I know about your mother. When you joined us, I had a very unpleasant time dealing with her incessant letters pestering me to sack you and send you back to Mella. Was he unseemly about your ex-wife?”
“I don’t want to burden you with a personal matter, but…” Panix had only said half of what he needed to get across in the meeting. He took a deep breath. “…the whole thing upset me. I thought I was tougher, but evidently not. I need some time off. Maybe a few months. I think I can get everything wrapped up here in the next two weeks, including the final write up of our plan for alloy products. There’s enough to keep things going while I’m gone.”
“If this is what you need and you promise it won’t affect alloy production, I won’t stand in your way,” Baltac said.
“Thank you.” Panix rose to leave.
“Panix, you are not irreplaceable.” Baltac rose from his chair after he made the unexpected comment. Of course Foald didn’t require Panix to to succeed, but he didn’t think it fair that Baltac should rub his nose in it. This Sovell thing had shaken Foald’s confidence in him in some way. Panix centered himself and succeeded in keeping his anger in check.
“I understand, sir. Fennel can keep the development going.” Feeling worse than when he entered Baltac’s office, Panix left, quietly closing the door behind him.
~~~
Chapter 9
Panix rose from his desk at Baltac’s Metalwo
rks. He looked around the room and had taken everything personal out of the office. He didn’t know how long he’d be gone. On top of the desk lay a file filled with plans and production specfications. Harlan was a wonder when they pored over the Baltac product line and developed production plans for it all. Foald now possessed ideas for products to keep up with alloy production.
Panix put his hand to the doorknob. He held it and wondered if he’d ever be back in this office again. He sighed. So much had happened to him since his first day. Merra, most of all. His face reddened as he thought of her and how he couldn’t provide her with what she needed. Sovell even knew. He shook his head at the cluelessness of youth. Both of them had been so young.
~
He walked up to Quill’s house close to the Marquessa’s palace. Panix had last seen him just before he left Military College to start his studies at Morven. He knocked on the door and waited.
A rumpled young man, the same age as Panix, answered the door. Quill had dark hair, going prematurely gray, his eyes were bloodshot and it appeared to Panix that he wore nightclothes at midday.
“Panix Gavid, is that you?” He shielded his eyes from the light. “Moshin said you’d eventually be dropping by. Come in, come in.” The two men disappeared into the dark confines of the house.
The inside matched Quill’s disheveled appearance. Panix picked his way through clothes, old food, and wine bottles scattered on the floor. Panix did not appreciate the mess nor the smell of rotting food and stale clothes.
“It looks like you could use a housekeeper,” Panix said.
“Spies can’t have housekeepers. How could you keep your secrets?” Quill yawned a couple of times.
“Honestly, Quill, I don’t see any secrets here. This is a mess,” he said as he tossed clothes off of a chair.
“You haven’t changed much. I remember you were the neatest guy in the dormitory at school.”
“There is a reason to be neat. It helps discipline your mind—I’m sorry, I didn’t come here for inspection.” Panix smiled, realizing his complaints were not getting his sabbatical off to a good start.
“That’s all right. I need some prodding from time to time. It’s just that there’s nothing to do in Pent. I’ve been here for months and no assignments have come my way. There’s a cabin in the north woods I bought that I go to as a diversion.” Quill started to throw his clothes in a corner as he talked.
“I’m on a sabbatical from my company. I found out something disturbing about my father. Do you remember him?”
“I do. Come to think of it, you look like I remember him.”
“He died in Helvanna on a business trip while I studied at Morven.” Panix could feel his emotions slide.
“I sort of remember a fever or something.” Quill furrowed his brow.
“Moshin helped us find out that someone murdered him.”
“How did he do that?” Quill had finally uncovered enough furniture that he could now sit.
“A little magic and a lot of guts. We still don’t know why. I’d give anything to find out, but after five years?”
“Yeah, the trail’s gone as cold as a Pentish winter,” Quill said.
Panix nodded his head. “So, I need to gather my wits a bit.” Panix had no intention of telling Quill about Sovell and Polla “Moshin tried to get me to join the KII. I refused as you know, but I’m yours for a few months. Consider it a trial enlistment.” Panix gave his old friend a weak smile.
“When do you want to get started?”
“Today, tomorrow?” Panix said.
“Get some gear together. We’re going to go to my cabin for a couple of weeks. If you want anything special while we’re there you’ll have to bring it with you.” Quill got up. “It looks like I’ve got some provisioning to do this afternoon. Actually it feels rather good to be doing something.” The agent rubbed his hands and grinned at Panix.
~
The high ceilings and pointed arches of the windows lent grandeur to the Cabinet Room in Murgon, the capital city of Murgontia. Four men sat at an ancient dark oak table sized for twenty-four. All were deep into their middle years and high ministers in the autocratic Murgontian government.
“We just got a pigeon from our agent in Pent. He’s been fired from his job. So we’re now forced to abandon our covert acquisition of Baltac’s metalworking technology. Mustak did clarify that Baltac is not interested in steam technology as a competitor and is moving towards making products out of his new alloy metal. The fact remains, however, that Mustak’s mission was botched from the start.” Wovir Yetter, the Chief of the Military, watched the others for their reactions. His hopes were pinned on Sovad Mustak infiltrating the metalworking industry in Pent. The country had tried and failed to buy Pent companies before. “So our peaceful alternative is out the window.”
“Mustak.” Uven Kyrod, the Chief of Murgontian Intelligence, spat out his name. “He wasn’t the right person. I suggested my son, Nirov. He would have succeeded. All Sovad’s good for is blood work.” The intelligence chief wore his light brown hair short, standing up on end. He wore a short black coat over a mustard colored silk shirt with a large collar. The scarf he always wore around his neck, to hide the scars of an attempted assassination attempt gone wrong, gave him a raffish look.
“It says here that his references did not hold up, Uven. Two were out of Pent and one was inadequately schooled by your son. I’d say he was set up to fail, if I didn’t know better.” The white wings on either side of Wovir’s bald head and large snowy mustache contrasted with his reddening face. He wore a white uniform with lots of gold braid, gold buttons and campaign pips down the outsides of both sleeves. “Let’s face it, Uven, this debacle isn’t Mustak’s fault, it’s yours.”
Kliffid Wilton, the Head Councilor raised his hand off the table. “Now, now. There’s no use decrying the past. Recriminations may salve consciences and fire passions, but we have committed to the entire Council to get control of the steam engine capability of Pent and Korvanna. What can we do with Sovad? Where is he?” Wilton still wore his hair unfashionably long, it was blond and wavy turning white at the temples. He had a disconcerting stare, which currently focused on Uven.
“He’s headed south to the border,” Uven said. “Our military plan now goes into effect to draw Pent’s border forces from the passes. By capturing Pent’s metalworking, we can starve Korvanna of the metal it needs to produce a competing product.”
Wovir blew out his cheeks. “So now I must have General Crissor assemble my 7th Army and sit at the bottom of the Pent passes until Sovad creates his diversion? This is folly. If Sovad doesn’t totally neutralize the two passes into Pent, we’ll just waste our supplies. We can’t get our mechanized infantry over the mountains and because we’ll have to use horse and wagon, our speed advantage is neutralized. Armies not on the move become disease ridden. That is unless you will provide me with healer-magicians.”
Kliffid visibly shivered. “You know how I feel about magic. We only use enough so we don’t put ourselves at a significant disadvantage with the rest of the world.”
Lorvad Pokkan, the Chief of Foreign Affairs and the fourth, and so far silent, member of Wilton’s pocket cabinet spoke. “At least no one exposed Sovad as a Murgontian agent and Baston Blox is still in place telling us what is going on in the palace. I don’t think Pent will be suspecting an invasion on their southern flank, if Sovad’s insurgency succeeds.” Pokkan was short and bald and had small intelligent eyes looking out through small rimless glasses perched above a beaklike nose and a small chin giving him the look of a newborn chick. He wore a red linen tailed coat over a cream-colored silk shirt and black breeches above long white stockings. His scraggly mustache and bearded chin did nothing to help his appearance.
“What do we have planned if he doesn’t succeed, Uven?” the Head Councilor said. All eyes swiveled to the Intelligence Chief.
“Our parallel strategy for Pent involves Gerellia, our northwestern neighbor. Nirov has m
ade contact with a disaffected Gerellian courtier. I won’t give you his name at this point, but he is in a position of influence at the Gerellian Court. The contact will convince the Gerellian monarch to permit war games along our mutual border and along the Western edge of the mountains. We will move our troops with all speed north along the old Murgontia-Pent road that goes north all the way along Gerellia’s border, invading Pent from the west where it’s farmland the entire distance to the capital.”
“Why haven’t I been apprised of this?” Pokkan said. His face turned as red as Wovir’s was a few minutes ago.
“You just have.” Uven quickly cut off Pokkan’s objection.
“So you will take the army and march them straight to the capital?”
“Why are you so surprised, Pokkan?” Wovir said. “What’s the difference if we invade Pent from the south or the west? If we move in from the West, I can wheel my 7th mechanized army positioned on the Pent’s southern border and move right into Gerellia and slip up the Pent Road. Using Bollet’s 3rd and my mechanized infantry we’ll be in Pent before anyone can react. We can take over both countries, if we want. Your little foreign minister friend will be invaluable to us in Pent either way.”
Kliffid looked blankly at Wovir. The military chief continued, “We can make a bold stroke. King Tomlano is weak and with Uven’s son working the political situation, we can do what we want.”
“Wovir, we are risking a continental war as it is. We are depending on Korvanna not reacting to our moves. If they wished to take Gerellia back, they could do so with overwhelming force,” Pokkan said.
“Overwhelming force after a 200 league march? Let’s not worry about Korvanna unless we have to.” Wovir folded his arm and lifted his chin. Uven’s little forays with Mustak would always be ineffective unless backed up with military force. General Bollet already stood with his troops on Gerellia’s borders.
“Yes, Wovir. Let’s have Nirov continue to groom the Gerellian traitor and let Sovad destabilize southern Pent. We will succeed either way.” Wilton settled the matter.