The Agent (30 page)

Garran took a hasty step toward Liam, his finger raised to his face. “That’s…pretty damn clever.” He dropped his hand to his side and grinned. “You ever think about becoming an agent?”

“Not until recently.”

“Seeing as how most of your previous options have gone to hell, maybe you should consider it.”

“I will, thanks.”

“So he gets a pass, but I’m still a screw up?” Adam demanded.

“Yeah, pretty much. How did those crooks get in anyway? Have you never heard of a lock?”

“The door was locked! They had a key.”

Garran tilted his head to the side. “Really?”

“Where are you going now?” Adam cried when Garran turned to leave.

“Relax; I’m just going downstairs to have word with the innkeeper. I saw two constables sitting in the dining area when I came in. I guess they don’t take kindly to two Artemisian ambassadors nearly getting kidnapped.”

Adam looked at the box Garran had tossed onto the bed. “Why is your box buzzing?”

“It’s not, but the bees inside are probably expressing their displeasure.”

“Why do you have a box of bees?”

“You’ll see. Just stay here and relax—and don’t let my bees out.”

Garran headed down the stairs, spoke briefly to the two constables, and approached the innkeeper. “Hello there.”

The innkeeper forced a smile. “Ambassador Ellery isn’t it? What can I do for you?”

“I would like to have a word with you about what transpired earlier.”

“Ah, yes, a terrible situation. I offer my sincerest apologies once again. Even in a city as law-abiding as Dracofort, some still feel the desire to flaunt the law. I assure you, our justice system will punish them severely for their transgressions.”

Garran nodded. “All the same, I would like speak with you about my companions’ continued safety—in private if you please.”

The innkeeper swallowed nervously but nodded. “Of course. We can speak in my office.”

Garran followed the man through a door behind the desk and closed it behind him. He lunged forward just as the man turned to face him, clamped a hand over his mouth, drove his back against the far wall, and pressed the tip of his throwing knife to the startled innkeeper’s throat.

Garran removed his hand from the man’s mouth. “Do not think to call out. The constables are not going to help you, particularly when they find out you were in league with the two idiots they arrested earlier.”

“I—I have no idea what you are talking about,” the innkeeper stammered.

“Sure you do. My associate said they came in with a key.”

“They could have gotten that key from anywhere! They might have stolen it from the pegboard when I wasn’t looking or made a copy after renting the room on a previous occasion.”

“Both are plausible, but you and I know that is not what happened. I took note of the men when we checked in. The sauce covering their meals was starting to congeal, and their beers did not have even a hint of a head on them. Unless you serve a particularly flat brew, that means they had been sitting there for some time.

“Now, a dutiful innkeeper like yourself wouldn’t let a couple of street scum loiter about unless he were part of the plan. I’m guessing this isn’t the first time a foreign guest has been robbed in your establishment.”

“Well…crime happens everywhere…”

“Save it.” Garran tilted his head at the small strongbox sitting on the innkeeper’s desk. “Open it.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m robbing you, you moron.”

“You—you’re robbing me?”

“Ain’t irony a bitch? Now, you can open the box and hand me the contents, or I can hand you over to the constables and you can join your two friends on the gallows.” The man swallowed nervously as sweat poured from his brow. “Yeah, your friends went a little far. It’s much more than simple robbery. There are international implications at work, so be smart and open the box.”

The innkeeper retrieved a key from his pocket, opened the iron box, and handed over the pouch full of money it contained. “You are no ambassador! You are nothing but a petty criminal.”

“There is nothing petty about it, and what’s criminal is how much of this I have to hand over to the prostitute I am going to go see. Seriously, you people need to lighten up on your antiquated, puritanical laws.”

Garran left the angry, frightened innkeeper and approached the two constables still sitting at their table in the open dining room and watching the office door with interest.

“Gentlemen, my two associates are still upstairs, and I need to step out for a bit once more.” He set a stack of coins on the table. “I need you to be extra vigilant while I am gone. Our business is not yet concluded this evening, and they need a respite.”

The two men nodded and Garran turned to leave before looking back over his shoulder. “If anything untoward happens to them while I am gone, do not bother running. There is no land so far nor hole deep enough that I will not find you and exact a most horrible retribution.”

***

Garran ducked as a shoe struck the doorway near his head.

“You did it again!” Adam shouted.

“Would you stop throwing stuff at me? You’re worse than a woman!”

“How could you leave us here again right after we were assaulted?”

“There are two constables downstairs vigilantly watching the entrances. You are perfectly safe, you big crybaby.”

“Where did you go this time?”

“I had to make a few more preparations.”

“I thought you did that last time you were out?”

“Other preparations,” Garran responded evasively.

“I thought you couldn’t afford it?”

“My fortunes changed. Now, if you will stop your clucking, we need to get on with the mission.”

“Right now? We just got here.”

“And we have already drawn too much attention. Best we do this immediately. Well, after we do one thing first.”

“What’s that?”

Garran turned to Liam. “I suppose you know how to cure pink eye?”

Liam smiled. “Of course I do. I have been drinking copious amounts of water in anticipation.”

Garran lay on the floor, resting his head in a large but shallow bowl. “Just try to hit my eye.”

“Oh, I’ll hit your eye all right.”

“Great. Try not to enjoy yourself too much.”

“Me? You have probably paid for this kind of service.”

“I have not—although it once came as part of a package deal.”

CHAPTER 32

A tall man in his early sixties adjusted his robes and fought to clear the sleep from his mind as he approached. “I am Chancellor Zlatan Barany. My staff tells me you are ambassadors from Artemisia come to inspect Lord Sinclair’s health and living conditions?”

“We are,” Garran replied. “I am Lord Rupert Ellery. This is my niece, Frieda, and my aid, Clement Medea.”

The chancellor quirked an eyebrow. “Clem Medea?”

Adam’s face colored and he shifted his feet. “My parents had an awful sense of humor.”

“Indeed. Lord Ellery, is there a reason you insist upon such an ungodly hour to conduct your visit?”

“Her Highness is concerned for her brother, and I thought the best way to ensure that he is being treated properly was to pay a surprise visit before anyone could clean him up and move him to better accommodations.”

Chancellor Barany bristled at the accusation. “I assure you that despite our differences in culture and politics, Lord Sinclair enjoys the finest of our hospitality and is treated as an honored guest.”

“All the same, we would like to make that assessment for ourselves.”

The chancellor sighed. “As you wish.”

Garran, disguised as a grossly overweight man, waddled after the chancellor and his attendant, deliberately falling behind as he studied the castle’s layout and guard force.

Adam leaned close and whispered, “My name is Chlamydia?”

Garran stifled a chuckle. “Yeah, pretty funny isn’t it?”

“No, it is not funny. You risk exposing us as frauds for a stupid pun?”

“Relax; no one pays any attention to aides. Just keep quiet and look for signs of trouble.”

Adam grimaced but did as he was told. It did not take long before he spotted a pair of soldiers walking with a man in a sharp, gray uniform.

Adam nudged Garran with his elbow. “I would bet my inheritance that the man in the uniform is a sensitive.”

Garran glanced down the hall and nodded. They saw three more such patrols as they made their way through the expansive castle halls before coming to a door guarded by a pair of sentries.

Chancellor Barany stopped before the door and waited for Garran and his entourage to catch up. “I am afraid that Lord Sinclair resides in the tower. If you cannot manage the stairs, I can have him escorted down.”

“I am fitter than I look, Chancellor, but I thank you for your concern. I will manage. I suppose the climb might do me good.”

“As you wish.”

The stairs spiraled around the inside of the tower, winding their way more than fifty feet above the ground floor. Just as Garran had suspected, one or two men guarded the access to each landing. They finally arrived at the top to find another pair of sentries standing outside a solitary door.

“I must warn you, Lord Sinclair can be…unpleasant when woken before his prescribed hour.”

“I bear letters and good wishes from his beloved sister. I am sure they will soothe his initial ire. I would like to meet with him alone if that is allowable.”

“By all means. Someone from my staff will escort you out when you are finished. If you have any further need of me, please schedule an appointment with my aide during proper hours. Good evening, gentlemen, lady.”

The chancellor left Garran’s company in the hands of his attendant. The attendant raised his fist to knock on the door but hesitated a moment before rapping upon the portal with his knuckles.

“Lord Sinclair,” he called out before knocking a second time. “Sir?”

“What the bloody hell do you want? What damned time is it?” a shrill voice demanded from inside the room.

The chancellor’s aide sighed and gave Garran a pointed look. “My apologies, my lord, but you have visitors from Artemisia who insist on seeing you posthaste.”

“The sun isn’t even up yet! Tell them to go bugger off until lunch…unless of course they are willing to follow my order literally, in which case you may send them in immediately.”

The aide looked to Garran once more. “I do not know how familiar you are with Prince Elroy, but his rudeness is only surpassed by his debauchery.”

“I can hear you, Philip, you uptight, pretentious little prick!” Elroy shouted through the door.

Adam grinned. “He and Garran should get along great.”

“Philip, kindly open the door. Clem, kindly kiss my ass,” Garran said.

Philip brandished a large iron key and opened the door.

Garran made an ushering motion with his hands toward the far side of the landing. “We require some privacy.”

Ensuring that Philip and the guards stood away from the room, Garran closed the door behind them. While Elroy’s room was a singular apartment, it was quite spacious and well appointed. It occupied the whole of the tower floor and had a sitting room as well as a large sleeping area. If one were to be a prisoner, they could hardly ask for better quarters.

Elroy stood near the foot of his bed, dressed in a silk robe, and looking more refreshed and better groomed, despite having been woken in the predawn hours, than Garran had ever managed on his best day. The prince was a handsome man, lean with an aquiline nose, and sandy hair. His familiarity with his sister was unmistakable.

“Oh, you brought a girl. Wonderful, I do like to mix it up occasionally. I hope she is older than she looks. I might be a pervert, but I am not a monster.”

“Your Highness,” Garran said loudly for the sake of those on the other side of the door, “I am Lord Rupert Ellery. Your sister has been unusually distraught over your confinement and requested that we conduct an inspection. How has your treatment been?”

“Besides being beyond boring and refusing to serve a proper wine, I cannot complain. Well, that is not quite true. I frequently complain, but often times it is half-hearted.”

Adam asked, “They don’t bring you Urquan red?”

“On the contrary, that is
all
they serve.”

“I thought Urquan red was universally considered the finest vintage in the world?”

“Of course it is, but here it is a
domestic
,” Elroy answered with a derisive sneer. “A proper man of breeding never drinks a domestic brew.”

Garran stepped forward, took Elroy by the arm, and led him to the far side of the room. “Highness, your sister hired my associates and me to free you from this place and return you to Artemisia.”

“Oh, my poor, sweet sister, she has always been the thoughtful one. This is going to disrupt my holiday plans, but if you are an example of Artemisia’s current fashion, then I can see how desperate they are for my return. How shall we accomplish this?”

“You need a disguise.”

Elroy clapped his hands. “I do love dressing up!” He rushed over to an enormous wardrobe, threw open the doors, and began pulling out articles of clothing. “This is a sassy piece I designed just this year and have been waiting for the perfect moment to make its debut. It is based on a classic Brolla formal suit, but I lowered the neckline, brought in the lapels, and added lace to the cuffs to make it fun!”

“No,” Garran said flatly, “you are going to wear the kid’s dress.”

Elroy pressed his index finger to his pursed lips. “Hm, it is years out of fashion, and it does nothing to compliment my figure. If you leave it here, I should be able to make it suitable in a day or two.”

“We’re leaving now. Liam, strip.”

“What the hell am I going to wear?” Liam demanded.

“Me, or more accurately, I am going to wear you.”

“Huh?”

Garran opened his voluminous robes, let the air out of the bladders that gave him the mass of an obese man, and tossed them beneath the bed.

“You,” he pointed at Elroy, “put on the dress and wig. Liam, you’ll slip your legs into this harness. I’ll cover you with my robe, Adam uses his magic to make Elroy look like you, and we walk out the front door.”

“Unless Philip is a sensitive, then we won’t make it to the stairs,” Adam said.

“Hm, I did make him cry once, but only the one time,” Elroy mused.

“Not that kind of sensitive. There is also the problem with the roving patrols that are very likely to include a sensitive.”

“We’ll pay that whore when we bang her.”

“What?” Adam asked. “Are you trying to say we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it?”

Garran shrugged. “I pay whores far more often than I cross bridges. You use your euphemisms and I’ll use mine.”

Liam, now standing in his underclothes and picking through Elroy’s wardrobe asked, “Is there anything in here that doesn’t make me look like a clown?”

Elroy looked over while lacing up Liam’s discarded bodice. “By clown I assume you mean fashionably elite.”

“No, by clown I mean the aftermath of a fancy boy orgy.”

Elroy huffed through his nose. “Your lack of fashion sense and crude vernacular gives testament to your obviously inferior breeding.”

“Actually, you and are nearly social peers. I just don’t flit around like a fairytale princess.”

“How dare you!” Elroy hissed. “I am a prince of Artemisia!”

“More like a mince of Artemisia.”

Elroy gasped, clapped a hand over his chest, and staggered back as if struck.

“Both of you stop it,” Adam demanded. “If you want to bicker like an old married couple, save it for when we are out of the city.”

Liam nudged Garran with his elbow. “We know who the wife is, am I right?”

Elroy sucked his teeth. “You are just jealous because I wear this dress far better than you ever could.”

“Yeah, that’s what it is. I’m jealous of your ability to be more feminine than me.”

“And fashionable.”

Liam nodded with a crooked smirk. “Yeah, that too and more.” He looked to Garran. “Can we go now?”

“One second,” Garran replied and began stuffing clothing beneath the blankets on Elroy’s bed to make it appear occupied. “All right, let’s go.”

“Wait,” Elroy said and spoke in a raised voice. “Do not return before noon. You have interrupted my sleep, and now I have to start all over!” He beamed at Garran and whispered, “This is fun. It’s like a play!”

“Just don’t break character. Liam, time to mount up.”

Liam looked at the harness Garran wore with trepidation, sighed, and threaded his legs through the leather loops hanging next to his hips like stirrups. With no other option, he pressed his head against Garran’s chest and held onto the straps running down his back. Garran closed his robs and tied them closed with a wide sash.

“Oh God,” Liam moaned, “it smells like bad cheese ripened by the heat of a donkey’s sweaty balls in here!”

“We’re leaving now, so stay quiet, hold on tight, and try to ignore my impending erection.”

“What…sonofabitch!”

“Shh!”

Adam used his magic to smooth out Garran’s shape and make Elroy look more like Liam. They opened the door and found the guards and their escort exactly where they had left them. Philip crossed the landing and looked into the room at the form in the bed before closing and locking the door.

“I trust everything is in accordance with the treaty?” Philip asked as they descended the stairs.

“It certainly appears so, but having now met Prince Elroy, I must say, I think you are the ones getting the short end of the stick,” Garran replied.

“You have no idea.”

“I thought he was quite charming with impeccable fashion sense,” Elroy countered.

Garran glared. “I think you should mind your place and hold your tongue, girl.”

Elroy stuck his tongue out at Garran but remained silent. Garran’s legs were shaky, and he sweated profusely by the time they reached the bottom floor.

“Are you all right, Lord Ellery?” Philip asked.

Garran waved a hand. “I’m fine. Just a bit taxed.” He took a deep breath and straightened up. “Lead on.”

The chancellor’s aide led them back down the broad hallway. Spotting one of the castle’s patrols, Garran grabbed Adam and Elroy by the arm and pulled them into a side passage.

Philip turned and hastened after them. “Sir, you must not wander away.”

“My apologies. This painting simply caught my eye,” Garran said as he gazed up at a large portrait hanging on the wall. “I did not bring my reading glasses. Can you make out the artist’s name down there?”

Philip leaned in to read the signature scrawled on the bottom right corner of the painting. Garran’s fist came crashing down on the base of the man’s skull, flooring him and rendering him unconscious. Adam pulled open the door to a privy, and Garran heaved him inside.

“Now what do we do?” Adam asked.

“This way,” Garran answered.

He had only taken a few steps down the side passage when the sound of footsteps echoed down hall from another patrol. Garran stopped, pushed Elroy into the privy with the unconscious aide, and closed them both inside. The patrol walking the primary hallway reached the intersection and spotted the foreigners.

“You there, what are you doing?”

“My niece needed to use the privy.”