Journey To Light: Part I of the High Duties of Pacia by Bob Craton
CHAPTER 19
Gildea § 2
Euclind’s letter to the Patroness had its intended effect. “Show of force?” Gildea said to herself as she read it. “It’ll take more than just a show. As I’ve said, old man Eudoxio, you’re smart but soft. Fortunately, one of us has prepared to be smart and strong.” Euclind could not hear her words, of course, but the attendant sitting on a stool nearby did and the young woman rose as Gildea turned to her.
“Fetch one of my personal messengers,” the Patroness told the attendant. “Make it that tall one. I like him best.” When the tall handsome young man arrived, Gildea gave him instructions.
“Go to Adne and find Master-Smith Hefaistu at his forge. Tell him I inquire about his health and then return to give me his exact answer. Say only this one thing and write nothing down. Return as fast as you can. I want you here before night.”
“Yes, Patroness,” the man replied with a smile.
Like the Riviarre and Niazport, Matik had first organized an army a century earlier due to the turmoil in the east and all. More recently, the death of Adálar, the last High Protector in Pàçia, made the need to recruit and train soldiers imperative; and most of the swords, spears, and shields used by this army, the Civil Guard, came from one place. Not exactly a city in the traditional sense although big enough to be one, Adne was built around the great forges supervised by Master-Smith Hefaistu and was located so that the prevailing winds blew smoke and fumes across the River towards Corager rather than over Matik. After all, no stenches could be allowed to bother the north-side of the city, and the south-side was too unruly to be a suitable location for a foundry of this type.
Adne was downstream from Matik. Riding in a racing scull propelled by expert oarsmen, the messenger reached his destination in two hours. Hefaistu was a big man with small scars from burning sparks scattered over his face and arms. When the messenger reached him, Hefaistu smiled and answered.
“Excellent? That was what he said?” Gildea asked the messenger upon his return.
“Yes Patroness, just the one word.”
“Good. Superb, in fact. You may leave now but don’t go far. I want to talk to you later.”
“At your pleasure, Patroness,” the man said with a sly smile.
He’s getting impertinent, Gildea thought to herself as he left the room. I need to find another soon.
Contrary to his instructions, the messenger did write an account of the day’s events but it was not given to the Patroness or anyone else in Matik. Sent secretly, it reached Riviarre and was brought to the attention of Premier Ermine.
“So Gildea thinks her little plan is still a secret,” the ruler of Riviarre smirked. “Won’t she be surprised when she finds out that Matik isn’t the only city ready to face the storm!”
But he was wrong; she was not surprised because she already knew and later the Patroness received her own report from her spy in Riviarre. The tall handsome messenger disappeared.
Gildea § 2
Euclind’s letter to the Patroness had its intended effect. “Show of force?” Gildea said to herself as she read it. “It’ll take more than just a show. As I’ve said, old man Eudoxio, you’re smart but soft. Fortunately, one of us has prepared to be smart and strong.” Euclind could not hear her words, of course, but the attendant sitting on a stool nearby did and the young woman rose as Gildea turned to her.
“Fetch one of my personal messengers,” the Patroness told the attendant. “Make it that tall one. I like him best.” When the tall handsome young man arrived, Gildea gave him instructions.
“Go to Adne and find Master-Smith Hefaistu at his forge. Tell him I inquire about his health and then return to give me his exact answer. Say only this one thing and write nothing down. Return as fast as you can. I want you here before night.”
“Yes, Patroness,” the man replied with a smile.
Like the Riviarre and Niazport, Matik had first organized an army a century earlier due to the turmoil in the east and all. More recently, the death of Adálar, the last High Protector in Pàçia, made the need to recruit and train soldiers imperative; and most of the swords, spears, and shields used by this army, the Civil Guard, came from one place. Not exactly a city in the traditional sense although big enough to be one, Adne was built around the great forges supervised by Master-Smith Hefaistu and was located so that the prevailing winds blew smoke and fumes across the River towards Corager rather than over Matik. After all, no stenches could be allowed to bother the north-side of the city, and the south-side was too unruly to be a suitable location for a foundry of this type.
Adne was downstream from Matik. Riding in a racing scull propelled by expert oarsmen, the messenger reached his destination in two hours. Hefaistu was a big man with small scars from burning sparks scattered over his face and arms. When the messenger reached him, Hefaistu smiled and answered.
“Excellent? That was what he said?” Gildea asked the messenger upon his return.
“Yes Patroness, just the one word.”
“Good. Superb, in fact. You may leave now but don’t go far. I want to talk to you later.”
“At your pleasure, Patroness,” the man said with a sly smile.
He’s getting impertinent, Gildea thought to herself as he left the room. I need to find another soon.
Contrary to his instructions, the messenger did write an account of the day’s events but it was not given to the Patroness or anyone else in Matik. Sent secretly, it reached Riviarre and was brought to the attention of Premier Ermine.
“So Gildea thinks her little plan is still a secret,” the ruler of Riviarre smirked. “Won’t she be surprised when she finds out that Matik isn’t the only city ready to face the storm!”
But he was wrong; she was not surprised because she already knew and later the Patroness received her own report from her spy in Riviarre. The tall handsome messenger disappeared.