Outsider Within: Web of Deceit - Part Two

“Hey Scurvy, more chamomile over here!”

      Barlow sighed. Why did they all have to call him Scurvy, anyway? He had lost enough of his dignity as it was. The Krawk Island-native Lenny had arrived at Darigan Citadel trying to unload a bunch of unwanted crates of tea leaves, and here he found himself over a year later--respectable owner of “The Sailing Tavern.”

      A whelp of a Wocky ran underneath one of his tables. A Meerca was close behind, yelling at the top of his lungs. Barlow enjoyed a rowdy tavern as much as the next pirate, but a mess of caffeinated kids mucking about the place wasn’t what he had in mind. The parents of the young’uns chatted among themselves over Blairnut Tea.

      Upon hearing his door swing open, he looked to see a Zafara stroll in. “D.A.!” he hollered in relief. Barlow actually enjoyed seeing her walk in most evenings.

      The hooded Zafara nodded back at him and sat down at her usual table beside the fireplace.

      Behind his bar, the Lenny poured steaming water from a kettle over the brittle green leaves. He glanced at the clock on the countertop, noting the time when it would finish steeping. D.A. asked her tea be steeped two and a half minutes; a small price to pay for her calming presence.

      Two and a half later, Barlow delivered D.A.’s tea. She thanked him, a courtesy many of his patrons lacked. After mopping up coffee that Meerca boy had knocked over, Barlow saw another of his regulars walk in, an always disheveled-looking Blumaroo with a sack full of papers, pens and copies of the Darigan Chronicle. Barlow poured his thickest brew into a coffee mug and placed it on the Blumaroo’s table. The Chronicle reporter nodded in thanks, already absorbed in his reading and writing.

      Barlow looked over at D.A.’s table to see if she was in need of a refill and saw her blue eyes lit with orange firelight, staring at the Blumaroo. She stood up from her chair and walked to him so softly that the otherwise engaged Chronicle reporter did not even notice her approach. D.A. sat down in the chair opposite to him, never taking her eerily lit eyes off of him. Barlow absent-mindedly washed mugs as he watched with inexplicable interest as D.A. waited for the Blumaroo to notice her. After a moment, the Blumaroo seemed to catch something out of the corner of his eye and nearly jumped out of his seat at the sight of her. He hardened his face in attempted indifference, but his eyes remained tense.

      Captain Barlow stood behind D.A. and could not see her face, but the Blumaroo’s ears trembled in attentiveness to her. Barlow maneuvered around his countertop over to the fireplace to adjust a kettle in an attempt to see D.A. better. Her lips were moving, but with her hood down he could not see her eyes. What could she be saying to make the Blumaroo freeze like that? He strolled over to the mop and started wiping the floor near the reporter’s table and strained his ears.

      “Why did you print that information?” he heard her ask.

      “It’s a good story,” replied the reporter, his voice cracking under the strain of attempted nonchalance.

      “It was an unwise move. You are not stupid enough to think otherwise.” D.A. paused for a sip of green tea.

      Barlow could only imagine that this Blumaroo authored the article announcing Redik’s visit.

      In the silence, the reporter flexed his hands, apparently trying to loosen their clench.

      “I will not ask you who told you to print the article,” said D.A. “You do not understand enough to know you should fear me more than him.” She leaned in ever so slightly to the Blumaroo.

      Barlow began to lean in as well, but caught himself and continued mopping the clean floor.

      “You may tell Hadrak to stop meddling in Chamber affairs--that is my domain. I will arrange things when the time is right.” She settled back in her chair, her eyes never wavering from their target. “Now, you are never going to publish secret information again. You will do this not because you fear Lord Darigan or General Galgaroth, but because I say so.”

      The reporter pounced on his opportunity. “I will do so right away, Miss D.A.” He stood up from the table and left the tavern as fast as he could, trying not to look like he was fleeing.

      “Enjoying yourself, Captain?” asked D.A. without turning to look at Barlow.

      The Lenny pirate nearly jumped out of his boots. “Er, uh, ya want more tea th’n that?”

      “No thank you.” She stood up and walked back to her own table to stare into the glowing fire.

     Barlow saw in her face an eerie calm like the sea before a storm.

     In a corner of the tavern Barlow had not been paying attention to sat a young-looking Usul. She appeared to be scribbling on napkins without parental supervision, but she was in fact focused on D.A.’s conversation.

       * * * * *

      Chief Henka sat at his desk, looking over security plans for Sir Redik’s upcoming visit. He had a lot of work to do. The Hissi heard a light tap on the lower part of his door; Gigi.

     “Come in,” he called. The little Usul walked in with a fine-tuned child-like gait.

     “Gigi!” he said and pulled out a chair for her with his tail. “So good of you to return quickly. Did you learn anything?”

     “Indeed, Chief Henka,” she replied with a very adult look in her eye. “What these big ears of mine heard is not conclusive, but it is certainly enough to warrant a close watch over D.A.”

     Henka hissed. “I suspected as much. What did you hear?”

     “She approached a reporter from the Darigan Chronicle at ‘The Sailing Tavern.’ He was terrified of her the moment he saw her. Lord Darigan’s oh-so-trusted advisor asked him why he published that article about Redik’s visit and then warned him to never publish privileged information again, out of fear of her. She scared the daylights out of him, that’s for sure. And now, Chief Henka, we get to the interesting part. D.A. said, ‘You may tell Hadrak to stop meddling in Chamber affairs--that is my domain. I will arrange things when the time is right.’” Gigi paused for Henka to shower her with exclamations of thanks.

     “She actually said that?” he asked.

     “Word for word,” said Gigi as she settled back in her chair. “I though you’d like that. Now, Chief, how about my payment?”

     Henka half-smiled at the Usul. He opened a drawer and pulled out a bag of coins with his winged claw. “Worth every neopoint,” he said as he handed it to her.

     The Usul took the bag and stood up. “Call me anytime, Chief.” The dark look in her eyes vanished, replaced by a child-like gleam. “I’ll be taking the back way out, if you don’t mind,” she said and left the room.

     ‘Worth every neopoint,’ Henka repeated to himself. Once silence set in, he slid off his chair. Gigi’s value could not be rivaled, but the less she understood about her work the better. At the moment, he was grateful she knew nothing of Hadrak.

     It had only been a few years since General Kass’ short but destructive reign over the Citadel. In Lord Darigan’s absence, Kass became a mental slave of the Three, a powerful alliance of the corrupt and magically skilled. Under their power, Kass removed almost all officials of the Chambers from office, including Henka himself. The Chambers soon became filled with characters of unknown or disreputable origin, but who were supportive of Kass’ often-questioned ascent to power. The Three brought in Hadrak as Kass’ chief advisor; a Mynci feared as a ruthless and brilliant strategist. Henka would have to work quickly to keep the security of the Citadel in his control if Hadrak was involved.

      * * * * *

     Henka climbed up a spiral staircase, the twisted spine of Darigan Chambers Tower, seat of the Citadel’s government. With his scale-armoured tail, he tapped on the massive wood door that guarded Lord Darigan’s private chamber. General Galgaroth admitted him.

     Inside, Lord Darigan’s large figure stood stooped over a map of the Citadel with marks and symbols scattered across it. The General must have brought it to go over security plans for Sir Redik’s visit. The Lord and his General exchanged a few final words before the Grarrl scooped up his map and tromped past Henka to leave.

     “Chief Henka,” Darigan said and waved the Hissi over. “I was just going over the security plans with General Galgaroth.”

     “Indeed. Such a short visit from Sir Redik. It is a shame it has turned into such an ordeal.”

     “Indeed,” Darigan chuckled. He turned towards a chair and clutched his knees with his claws before dropping his weight into it. Two wars with Meridell, the loss of General Kass, and years of redeeming his own reputation had taken their toll on the Lord.

     “In fact, my Lord,” Henka continued, “I was hoping to get your permission to ask D.A. to help me in my own preparations for Sir Redik’s visit. She is your personal aide, after all.”

     The Korbat raised a hairless eyebrow. “I did not know you had such confidence in her. By all means, ask if she will help, but I will not order her.”

     “Of course, my Lord.” Henka did not approve of Lord Darigan’s lenience with her. Any person with the knowledge and power D.A. had needed to be on a leash, even a long one.

     Henka hastened to leave, and the Lord of the Citadel was surely grateful for a few moments free from an official bothering him. On his way back down the stairs, Henka plotted out his next moves. There was no wisdom in telling Lord Darigan of his suspicions about D.A., for the Lord would never be able to act normally around her. Henka needed D.A. to continue as normal so he could determine what she was up to, and in turn, what Hadrak’s plans were.

To be continued...