The Agent (5 page)

Adam sat on a stump and held his hands in his head while Garran lit a tobacco twist that gave off the heady aroma of opium. “What is that?”

“Something to ease the pain,” Garran answered.

“Are you injured?”

“Yes, but not from tonight.”

“Who are you?”

“Garran Holt. I’m an agent.”

“What is going on? What happened to my father?”

Garran sat near Adam and handed him his flask. “You might want to take a few pulls from this before I tell you.”

“No, I have taken vows to consume no alcohol except wine during sacrament.”

“Good, I really didn’t want to share. Anyway, your father, mother, and brother are dead, and your cousin Gordon is now or soon will be the King.”

“Gordon Mandel? What is Gordon doing on the throne?”

“Probably your sister,” Garran replied and took a swig of whiskey. He’s not going to want to waste any time establishing his line for the regency.”

Adam leapt to his feet, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white and his hands trembled. “Do not dare tell me my family is dead then speak so cavalierly of them!”

“You asked me and I answered. It’s not my fault the truth ain’t pretty.”

“Would you please just tell me what is happening?”

“I haven’t been able to find out everything, but I think I have a good idea of what’s going on. The Guild has been silently backing the disruption of your father’s road while slowly killing off everyone in line for succession. Either that or you have the unluckiest bunch of relatives in the history of mankind. They set this Gordon fellow up as king while they pull the strings, take over the new trade highway, and reap greater profits and power than ever before.”

“What do they want with my sister?”

Garran gave him an incredulous look. “Are you telling me that you are unfamiliar with the laws of succession?”

“I haven’t had much interest since becoming unfit to rule.”

“Yeah, what is that about? I thought that perhaps you were horribly disfigured or feebleminded. You seem pretty normal to me, so why can’t you inherit the throne?”

Adam looked away and into the dark woods. “It is complicated.”

“Are you a fancy boy? I’m sure there have been several on or near the throne before. All you have to do is fake it until you make an heir or two.”

“I am not a fancy boy! How did The Guild pull all of this off? What happened to Gregor? He’s supposed to know about things like this and prevent it.”

“Gregor was in on it.”

Adam looked as though another family member had died. “That’s not possible. He and my father were close friends.”

“I hate to break the bad news to you, but friends suck.”

“Friends do not suck. Maybe you suck!”

Garran pursed his lips and shrugged. “There is ample evidence to support both arguments.”

“You said you were an agent. You don’t look like an agent or sound like an agent. You certainly don’t smell like one.”

“I’m a special kind of agent, and you’re damned lucky I am, because I am your best hope of fixing this.”

“How could the two of us possibly do anything? The Guild can afford to hire a standing army large enough to overthrow any of the bordering nations, especially if Anatolia’s soldiers capitulate.”

“Which they have probably done, and that is why they kept your sister alive and are forcing her to marry Gordon. If she supports him, most people will fall in line and accept his crowning no matter how odd the circumstances surrounding his ascension.”

“Then what can we do?”

“We gather an army, free your sister, remove Gordon from the throne, and take The Guild down once and for all just like your father wanted. See, it’s simple really.”

“Simple? How in the world could we possibly do any of that?”

“On my last mission, I obtained some financial documents. I wasn’t certain what they were, but they looked like something that could only hurt your father, so I destroyed them. I’ve been running the information through my head lately, and I’m pretty sure what they were.”

“What were they?”

“I think they were a list of your father’s primary financial backers. If The Guild got ahold of it, they would know who actively opposed them and could take measures to remove them as they did Remiel.”

“How does that help us?”

Garran tapped his head. “I have it all up here.”

Adam looked from the flask in Garran’s right hand and the smoldering tobacco twist in his left. “No offense, but I find it hard to believe you can keep much of anything in there for long.”

Garran chuckled. “I know, right? It’s like my one crazy talent. Anyway, we know who supported your father, so we will go to them and see if they will support you and your sister.”

“We would need the full military might of at least three bordering nations to defeat the army Gordon has at his disposal.”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

“You have a plan to defeat the mightiest nation in the land?”

Garran laid back and stared at the stars. “I always have a plan.”

“It will have to be a great plan.”

“Well, if history teaches us anything…”

“Then what?”

“Then we’re probably screwed.”

“Great.” Adam sighed and looked up at the night sky as well. “Did you know you have the same name as—”

“Yes, I have the same name as a shit-eating fish, but it’s spelled differently, and I just saved your life, so thanks for not being a prick about it!”

“—as a famous astronomer who discovered that we are but one of several planets orbiting the sun?”

“…No, I did not.”

“What’s this about a fish?”

“Shut up and go to sleep. We have a long road ahead of us.”

CHAPTER 4

Joshua Roux strode down the marble halls of The Guild’s famed tower, his boot heels clacking on the polished stone with every swaggering step. His audacious plan was in its ninth year of pregnancy and had finally given birth to a new religion where prayers and miracles came in the form of gold and silver, and he was its god.

He entered the council hall where his fellow leaders, who were supposed to be his peers, looked at him with admirable deference. They stood and applauded for their new hero and smiled in adoration.

“I have to admit, Joshua,” Sabinus Cole said, “I had my doubts, but you have singlehandedly ushered in a new era that will see The Guild pulling the strings of every potentate in the realm.”

“Hear, hear,” Roger Seaver concurred. “You will have your portrait hanging next to the founders’. Maybe even a statue in Leva’s central plaza.”

Joshua smiled and made a perfunctory yet gracious bow. “We must scour the kingdom for an artist capable of capturing my essence.”

“With a cadre of agents now at your disposal, that should not take long at all!” Rupert Westcott crowed.

Sabinus asked, “Do we have the highway in our control?”

“Our mercenaries have secured key stretches of it, and with Gordon’s, pardon me, King Gordon’s decree, we shall hold it in its entirety with full legal legitimacy within the month. Granted, the lengths outside of Anatolia are nominally controlled by those kingdoms’ government, but the distinction is less than noteworthy. Their ownership is about as tangible as the crown on Gordon’s head.”

“I for one will feel far more secure once Evelyn produces an heir,” Rupert said. “There is some strong grumbling within the capital and even more outside of it.”

“Vocal dissension is pocketed and just that, the uneasy murmurings of peasants who fear change,” Joshua soothed. “They will wither and die like unwatered fruit.”

“Do we have confirmation regarding Prince Adam?” Roger asked.

Joshua smiled sheepishly. “There has been a slight change of plans regarding our handling of the Prince. Adam cannot claim the throne, so he is of no real threat, and his life allows us better leverage against his sister.”

“Yet that branch is still capable of bearing fruit.”

“He has taken vows of celibacy. Once I am able to get word to him that we will spare his life if he accepts our position, that problem will be eliminated.”

“Gregor said he may have an agent helping him, a transcended at that.”

“Garran Holt is an alcohol and drug addicted deviant. Men like him are easy to purchase. We have two transcended in our pocket if he proves to be intractable. Trust me; we have rendered the remnants of the Altena line sterile, and it shall soon become extinct. The Guild shall reign over all of Anatolia, and soon, the entire world.”

***

“Garran, wake up,” Adam said before nudging the sleeping agent with his foot when he failed to respond. “Garran, wake up; it’s daylight.”

Garran smiled, shifted, and mumbled, “Yeah, now tell me how big I am and punish me for being a bad boy.”

Adam scowled and kicked him harder. “Wake up!”

Garran bolted to a sitting position, blinked away the vestiges of his dream, and glared up at Adam. “You’re not a dominatrix…are you?”

“No, what is wrong with you?”

“You woke me up in the middle of what was turning into a rather pleasant dream. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“It’s daylight.”

Garran looked around. “Wow, with such a powerful sense of observation you should have been an agent instead of a priest.”

“I am not a priest, I’m a monk.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Priests spread the holy word and provide services to the masses. Monks are scholars who study God and His holy works in seclusion.”

“I see, so monks are basically lazy priests.”

“No, they are just…I assumed you would want to get started as soon as possible.”

Garran blinked stupidly. “Started with what?”

Adam extended his arms and looked around. “I thought you had some grand plan to take care of Gordon and The Guild and to rescue my sister!”

“Don’t yell at me. I do have a plan, and it is quite grand.”

“Great, perhaps you would like to get on with it?”

“I was going to, but I thought we might have breakfast first, or do priests not eat breakfast?”

Adam sighed and relaxed his rigid posture. “You’re right, I am hungry. I guess I did not think about it with everything that has happened.”

“Great, so do you have any food?”

“Me? You grabbed from my room in the middle of the night! I didn’t have time to grab so much as an extra pair of underwear much less any food.”

“That’s why I don’t wear them.”

“You are doing a supremely poor job of inspiring me with confidence.”

“I saved you from assassins last night, but apparently that isn’t enough for lazy priests. I suppose some of it is my fault. I forget that you have been pampered and are not familiar with any sort of deprivation.”

“I will have you know that a monk’s entire first year is spent in seclusion with nothing more than a holy book and two bowls of millet or oats a day.”

“I ate berries out of a deer’s shit with a crossbow bolt stuck in my leg with only frostbite to keep it from turning rancid. I know it’s no oatmeal and a small room, but I found it pretty uncomfortable.”

Adam scowled. “It’s not a contest.”

“Says everyone who loses. Don’t get your day-old panties in a twist. I’ll see if I can find some breakfast.”

The young monk sat on a log and cupped his head in his hands. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m not used to any of this, and I don’t know how to deal with it.”

“Not whining is a good start.”

“I am trying to show humility and apologize!”

“Sorry, I’m not familiar with either of those concepts. Wait here and try not to die while I’m gone.”

Adam wanted to issue a retort, but he lacked the energy and suspected that his words would be lost on Garran. He traveled his eyes around their small camp and tried to absorb the reality if his situation. Nearly his entire family was dead, and he was in the middle of the woods about to embark on a mission to God knows where, doing God knows what while poorly provisioned and led by a man who might well be a lunatic.

Garran claimed to be an agent, and while Gregor was the only agent he ever met in person, Adam knew them to be highly sophisticated in politics, social science, and education. Despite him being a capable fighter, Garran looked and smelled as if he had crawled out of a gutter. He was crude, unkempt, and possibly an alcoholic. Yet he was still likely far more capable in this environment than Adam could ever be. Aside from working in the gardens, cleaning the grounds, and taking walks, he had not been outside of the monastery since he was ten years old. He was adrift in the sea and did not know how to swim.

What Garran proposed, taking on not just The Guild but the largest nation in the realm, seemed ludicrous. But then, that was what agents did on occasion. However, this was not simply replacing a figurehead. He was proposing removing Gordon as King and dismantling an even greater power in The Guild. They also had Gregor Ward on their side, and Garran was not exactly operating covertly. Their enemies knew they were out there and were actively hunting them.

Garran did manage to thwart their first attempt at assassinating him. Maybe he judged him too quickly and allowed his common manner and appearance to prejudice him. He was a transcended after all, and his father and the university would have spared no expense to ensure that he was the absolute best agent they could produce, just as they had done with Gregor.

As time crawled by and the sun continued its ascent, Adam began reassessing his reassessment of Garran. How long could it take to find something to eat? He should be back by now whether or not he found something. What kind of person ensured that they had a bottle of alcohol but failed to pack some food knowing that they would have to escape through the woods and avoid towns?

Adam’s misgivings about his savior compounded as the minutes rolled into hours. He had limited knowledge of hunting, but he knew it could be a time-consuming endeavor. However, he assumed that Garran would not want to waste too much time, so staying this close to the monastery when assassins were likely searching for them at this very moment seemed a bad idea.

When the sun marked the time as just shy of noon, Adam’s anxiety and patience had reached their limits. He found the game trail Garran had followed away from the small clearing and moved as quickly and quietly up its meandering path as his limited skill allowed.

Less than a mile from their hasty camp, Adam rounded a bend in the trail and spotted Garran’s legs sticking out from behind a large, moss-covered boulder just off the trail. His stomach churned and his heart raced, thinking that his assassins had found Garran and killed him.

“Garran,” Adam whispered as he crept toward the boulder. “Garran?”

Anger spread through his body like wildfire and incinerated his anxiety. Garran lay on the ground gripping an almost empty bottle of whiskey with one of his rancid tobacco twists lying in a burnt patch of ground inches from his outstretched hand. Had the detritus not been damp from the moist air, he likely would have started a fire and been consumed by the flames.

Adam rounded the boulder and kicked him hard in the hip. “Garran!”

Garran bolted upright, his eyes flaring open, and broke wind. “Huh, what?”

“People are trying to kill me and you spend all morning sitting here getting drunk?”

“No! I spent some of the time finishing off that dream you interrupted.”

“Finishing off the dream? I thought you were going to find breakfast!” Adam asked heatedly.

“I did.”

“Then what the hell do you call this?”

Garran looked at the empty bottle still gripped in his hand. “A rousingly successful hunt.”

“What about me? I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

Garran scowled. “Did I ever tell about the time I was so hungry I picked through deer shit for food?”

Adam rolled his eyes. “I won’t even ask the why of that, but what does that have to do with any of this?”

“It means you should not be complaining already. This is going to be a tough journey, and you had best get accustomed to deprivation real quick because I can’t stand a whiner.”

“You can’t stand a whiner?” Adam pulled the bottle from Garran’s grasp and hurled it against the boulder, spattering its remaining contents against the stone in a spray of glass.

“What the hell did you do that for?” Garran demanded.

“Because I can’t stand a drunken wastrel who reeks of booze and bad cheese!”

Garran watched the remnants of his whiskey trickle down the boulder and frowned. “You know, for a priest, you’re awfully judgmental.”

“I am not a priest!”

“You’re also not very quiet. For someone who claims to be worried about assassins, you sure shout a lot.”

Adam ran his hands through his hair and grabbed a double fistful, willing himself not to yank it out by the roots. “I am shouting because you are the most exasperating man I have ever met.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s not a compliment!”

“Are you sure?”

“Could we please just go?”

Garran sighed and directed his eyes to the north. “Yeah, we had best get moving. It’s going to be one hell of a walk.”

Adam nodded. “It’s a shame you don’t have a horse.”

“I had one.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I left him right here before I came down to rescue you. I guess he left.”

“Didn’t you tie him up?”

“No, what if a bear came along? Seems rather cruel.”

“And you thought it wouldn’t wander off?”

“I told it to stay,” Garran said defensively.

“It’s a horse not a dog!”

“Yeah, horses are jerks.”

“Horses are the jerks…Well, this sucks.”

“Tell me about it. I had two more bottles of whiskey in his saddle bags.”

“You are a horrible drunk, you know that?”

Garran focused on the trail ahead as they plodded on. “You say that now, but I’m a lot worse when I’m sober.”