In The Prince's Secret Service - 7. In the Prince’s Secret Service: Fortress of the Troll-Mage Chapter 7: Spymaster’s Tasking

The shutters and doors of the Wooden Troll Inn were open to a warm summer morning. Rhythmic cracks of wood-on-wood echoed from the courtyard where Alan and Thom sparred with quarterstaffs. In the common room, Patrick poured over his encyclopedia of magic, looking for something to help him understand why Thom’s ancient quarterstaff still held power—power that only Thom could wield. James was finishing a late breakfast after having spent the night helping a midwife attend a difficult birth. Thom’s father, Albert the publican, stood behind the bar, stacking mugs and trenchers in preparation for lunch. A few regulars sat at tables, drinking tea or ale.

Kenneth—James’ friend and acolyte—fidgeted. The boy became even more restless when Durber entered, squinting from the sunlight and sweating in its heat. Durber was the senior member of Prince Auric’s intelligence service in the City of Fortmain. His visits often involved lengthy conferences in the security of their room—conferences that Kenneth was expected to attend.

Durber took a mug of ale from Albert and walked over to the table where the boys sat. “Mighty late for breakfast, isn’t it Master James?” he asked.

“James worked all night!” Kenneth defended his friend.

James found Kenneth’s hand below the table and gripped it firmly.

“James has just returned from healing,” Patrick said. “How are you, today, Master Durber? How is business?”

Durber launched into a description of the difficulties he was having getting enough freight to justify another caravan. Durber operated a warehouse and freight forwarding business. When trade was brisk, he sent one or more caravans each month to the capital city of Arcadia. When business was slow, he attached a wagon or two to another merchant’s caravan. Durber’s business provided a cover for intelligence gathering; the shipments provided a route for the secret messages that passed between him and his master in Arcadia. Patrick and his companions were junior members of the intelligence service. Their work had been important, and they had established a solid reputation with the head of the service and the prince.

James and Patrick listened politely to Durber’s monologue, interjecting um-hum and you don’t say and the like at appropriate intervals. Durber tilted his mug and drained the last of the ale. He then took his leave, shaking his head and muttering about business. The three boys at the table were the only ones who saw that he had left two letters on the table, openly concealed among Patrick’s notes.

When James had finished his breakfast, Patrick closed his book and gathered his notes and the two letters. “Kenneth, perhaps you could drill with Thom for a while? Ask Alan if he’d join James and me as soon as it is convenient. Not more than an hour more on quarterstaff, and then clean up for lunch, okay?” Kenneth agreed eagerly. Not only would he enjoy the exercise, but also bathing with Thom always ended with sharing boy magic.

From their room on the second floor of the inn, the three tweens could see the two boys in the courtyard. In the heat of the day the boys had stripped to fundoshis, and the sunlight glistened from bodies grown brown in the sun. Not long ago, Kenneth would have easily bested Thom at the quarterstaff. Now, Thom was holding his own through second level drills, and doing fairly well in third. Thom was learning both quarterstaff and sword drills much faster than was ordinary. That presented another puzzle to Patrick.

Patrick examined the letters. One was addressed to him; the other, to someone named Breeden in the town of Agium. Hmmm. I hope the first letter explains the second, he thought. The physical and magical seals on both letters were intact. Opening the first letter, he spread it on the table so that he, as well as James and Alan who were sitting on either side of him, could read it.

My Friends,

Thank you for your most recent letter. I was pleased to learn that your young friend’s shipment was returned to him. Your decision that he receive it directly rather than through a freight agent was correct. I never intended for personal property of this nature to be part of our contract. I am pleased that you exercised judgment and arrived at the right decision. Once you have completed the inventory, however, I would like a copy.

“So it was okay to let Thom keep the quarterstaff, hmm?” Alan said. “I thought he’d agree.”

“Especially since it seems that Thom is the only one who can use its magic,” Patrick added. “This looks as if Cadfael wants to know more about it…once we understand how it works.”

The letter continued.

Your current activities are interesting; however, as you, yourself noted, they have yielded little recent profit. The very substantial order from the horse breeder continues to yield significant returns, however.

There is something that might pique your interest—something that is a greater challenge and which could be more profitable. I am receiving confusing and conflicting information about trade matters between Fortmain and Agium. I am especially interested in trade with towns along the route between Agium and Decan. The offers I have received from shippers and merchants are incomplete, muddled, and confusing. They are almost completely worthless.

“Something going on around Agium,” James said. “We continue to hear of brigand attacks on caravans and farms. Is that what he means?”

“Most likely,” Alan agreed.

There is no one between Fortmain and Agium that I can rely upon! I wish that I had reliable people there.

“He doesn’t have agents anywhere down there, apparently. Wonder if he really meant for us to know that?” Alan said.

“Yeah,” replied James, “I think he wants us to recruit agents…isn’t that what he means?”

“Yes, I believe you’re right,” Patrick agreed.

Would you undertake a journey to Agium? It would be very useful if you and your companions would visit the towns and villages between Fortmain and Agium to obtain information on trade possibilities: items, quality, quantities, and prices. I would expect you to stay in Agium for at least a tenday, perhaps two, as it will take that long to visit all the people you need to see in that city.

You have my full authority and that of my backers to make and cancel contracts as you see fit.

“Whoa, what does he mean by this?” Alan asked, pointing to the make and cancel contracts line.

“I think he means that we can continue to recruit for the intelligence service…but the cancel part…I don’t know,” James said.

“It means that we may kill in the name of the prince,” Patrick said.

The boys, suddenly more sober, continued reading.

If you agree, please tell my agent in Fortmain. He will provide funds for your trip and notify me of your plans. You may find it appropriate to use the young hunter’s name and connections to smooth your way.

“The young hunter…that’s me,” Alan said. Alan’s father was the prince’s chief huntsman and a member of the Privy Council. Before he had joined Patrick in what Alan called their glorious adventure, the boy had accompanied his father and the prince on hunts. “What do you suppose he means by that?”

With warmest regards,

Cadfael

The bottom of the letter was filled with half-erased writing, as if Cadfael had written the letter on a palimpsest.

“Wait a minute,” Patrick exclaimed. “Alan, may I have your mirror?”

Puzzled, Alan picked up a small metal mirror and handed it to Patrick. The Elf held the document and the mirror so that he could see the older writing in its reflection. “This one’s not a doodle; it’s Old Elvish! It makes a poem—most of it is erased; but the initial letters…They say Breeden is Centis. Who or what is Centis?”

“That would certainly be Baron Centis, ruler of Agium in Prince Auric’s name,” Alan replied. “He visited the court a few of years ago. My father and I took him hunting. Bagged a very big boar, he did. Oh, that’s what he meant by the young hunter’s connections, don’t you think?”

“Of course you’re right,” Patrick replied. “He’s suggesting that we travel openly, under our own names. Hiding the mission under the guise of a social visit…perhaps a hunting trip with Alan as a guide.”

“That would also explain the other letter,” James said. “Apparently we are to deliver it to the baron. I guess that means Cadfael assumed we would accept this mission.”

“Are you inclined to do so?” Patrick asked James.

James answered without hesitation, “When Kenneth and I swore fealty to you, we did not think for a moment that it would be just for a few weeks, or just while we explored that old fortress. I don’t want to annul either that oath or our companionship, and I don’t think Kenneth wants to, either. I would like to talk with him, though.”

That afternoon, Patrick read Cadfael’s letter aloud to the gathered companions. “The question is,” he asked, “shall we accept Cadfael’s commission to travel to Agium, to seek out whatever Darkness we may encounter, and deal with it? Thom, Kenneth, such a mission may put us all in grave danger. We may be killed. We may also have to kill. You are both extraordinary boys, but still, you are boys. Do you fully understand what this means?”

Thom and Kenneth look at each other, and then at the tweens. Thom was the first to speak. “I am not afraid to die. I was dead when you found me, and I was dead inside until you and Alan healed me. I am alive now, and I like being alive. I like being with you and Alan and James and Kenneth. I’ve never killed, but I think I could do that—as long as my friends and companions were with me. Yes. I understand.”

Kenneth nodded as Thom spoke, and then said, “I do not fear death; for I know that if it comes I will be with my sworn companions, fighting for the Light. I have killed before. I didn’t like it. I hope I don’t ever like it. But I know I can do it again, if I have to—if I have to defend myself or my companions against Evil. Yes. I understand.”

Patrick looked into each boy’s eyes, and said, “Then we are agreed. Tomorrow, we will report our decision to Durber, and begin preparations for our departure.”

The next morning, Durber greeted the companions’ news warmly. “I’ll send word to Cadfael with the next caravan and let him know that you’re on the way to Agium to look for trade opportunities. Send your reports to him by your usual route. If you have time, you might also send a copy to me by different means. I’ll relay whatever reaches me…just in case one copy gets lost.

“He sent me…separately…this list. It has the names of the towns and villages that he wants you to pay special attention to, and a code name for each one. See, Nut Grove is Bear, Decan is Wolf, and so on. It’s standard Trade Code…changes every time it’s used, of course.

“His letter to me said that if you agreed to this mission, I was to give you 50 days expenses at 3 crowns per day for the party, and 50 days pay at a crown for each of you per day. That’s…let’s see…3 times 50 is 150, plus 50 times 5 is 250, so 400 crowns. Is that right?”

Patrick nodded, and Thom’s eyes opened wide as Durber began to count out stacks of gold and silver.

Later, in their room, James sorted the money that Durber had provided. James pointed to a pile of 50 gold pieces. “Thom, this is yours.” Another pile of 50, “Kenneth…here.” James continued pointing to piles as he spoke. “Alan, yours plus a half of the expense money. Patrick and I will each hold a quarter of it,” James said to the others.

“I…I…,” Thom said. “How can I be worth as much as Alan? Or Patrick? Or James? Or Kenneth? I don’t do magic or healing, I can barely stay on a horse…which was a gift from Alan…I’m pretty good with a sword—which was also a gift, and I’m getting better with the quarterstaff, but…” The boy’s voice trailed off.

Kenneth was closest, and hugged the boy to him. “Thom, gold doesn’t tell me what you’re worth!”

Alan stood next to the two younger boys and put his hand on Thom’s shoulder. “Kenneth is right, Thom. Gold doesn’t measure the worth of any person. Your worth comes from inside, here,” he said touching the boy over his heart, “and from what you do.”

Thom took Alan’s hand and pressed it to his chest.

*****

That afternoon, James and Kenneth scoured the marketplace for supplies. They bought hard flatbread and pemmican for the trail, and bags of oats, and dried carrots and apples for the horses. Alan and Thom went over the horses and tack thoroughly, replacing a shoe on one horse, and repairing the girth strap on another’s saddle. Patrick visited the College of Magic where he copied into his journal what maps and notes of the route he could find. Then, with Alan’s help, Patrick carefully checked every weapon, looking at them carefully for flaws that might be invisible to the unaided eye. Later, Alan took Thom with him to buy new clothes for each of the companions.

That night was a long one for Patrick. Alan, James, and I…we’re capable of taking care of ourselves. Kenneth? He looks good in the courtyard, at practice. He’s a very competent healer and mage. Thom? He’s put aside what the brigands did to him, but what might trigger its return? He’s getting better with sword and quarterstaff, but…but they’re boys! They’re just boys! What am I leading us…and them…into?