In the Name of Peace (David)

[Angmor]

Taraak hated nights like this. He wasn’t really sure why, but he had never once enjoyed a day with today’s weather. For the past few days, the inevitable spring storms had visited Feinster, soaking the town with rain just in time to hinder the preparations for the surprise peace summit that was to be held there. It wasn’t so much the rain Taraak minded. After all, rain was cover, rain was concealment, and it demoralized the weaker side of a conflict, which usually wasn’t him. No, it was this spring lighting, the kind that never really went away. The kind that just kept on going, not flashing once and dissipating like lightning usually did. The kind that just kept on flickering in the background, constantly lighting the edge of his vision, making him constantly tense and edgy. And he could never get used to it, filter it out like most people seemed to be able to. He was always the one on edge, glancing over his shoulder with each flash, waiting for something to attack him. He hadn’t slept for more than ten hours over the past three days, and despite his training, his body was starting to feel it.
Of course, he probably wouldn’t have gotten much sleep even if the weather was pleasant.

It had been announced a week ago that, in light of the strange plague that was wiping out trees in Du Weldenvarden and crops in the northern empire, that the Varden had invited the Empire to the newly captured city for a peaceful summit, with the purpose of finding a solution to the problem. Naturally, most of Alagaesia was stunned at this news, and none more so than men and woman like Taraak, the spies and assassins of the war. With infantry combat on the field of battle, there was still an element of honor and respect. Among spies and other secret fighters of the war, there was no honor, only pragmatic brutality. They knew just how vicious of a war it really was, and how hard it would be to bring all that hatred to stop, even a temporary one. But, it was not his place to say so. The summit needed someone to help set up the security, who better to defend against spies than a spy? So Taraak had done his usual thing, and followed his orders to Feinster. And for the past three days, he had constantly been butting heads with soldiers, from private to commander who knew how to secure a perimeter, could handle a little guard duty, and thought that nothing could ever slip past me, and generally knew nothing about guarding anything from a single man trained for nothing else but get around guards, walls, locks, and patrols. And knowing how the Empire liked to work, that was probably the kind of person they would send. But soldiers just couldn’t seem to think that way. And on top of that, the imperial delegation had arrived a few hours before, and had been inducted into Lady Lorana’s palace. Taraak had been watching from a window as the delegates had been arriving, and found many of the faces… troubling. Apart from the more famous ones, he was sure most of the delegation was merely a front for the best spooks and stringer that the Empire could assemble on a fairly short notice. The only thing that helped sooth his mind was the equality of the forces. As agreed on the terms of the summit, both sides where to have the exact same number of soldiers within ten leagues of the city, to a man. And so there was only two hundred soldiers within the city at this time, one hundred for each side. Taraak had been reassured by this, until he had seen the hilly and forested country all around the city. For someone who knew how, it would be easy to hide a small army all around. He knew he probably wasn’t the first one this had occurred to, but he decided to check it anyway. And so, he had hired a group of thieves and looters who had come to capitalize on the unusual absence of people. They had been out combing the woods and fields for the past eight hours, and had only just returned…

Crack

The lightning gave an especially brilliant flash, bringing him out of his thoughts with a jerk, subconsciously moving his hand toward his knife. But a quick glance confirmed that he was in no danger. The rest of the tavern in front of him just as he had left it before drifting off, filled mostly with knots of Varden soldiers nursing drinks to warm up after their patrols through the rain. In the dim light of a few lanterns hung on the ceiling as well as the constant storm outside creating almost a strobe affect through the large front window, Taraak could just make out the outline of the bartender on the other side of the room, drawing a new ale from one of the firkins on the counter behind him. While most of the citizens of Feinster had fled the city after the Varden breached the front gates in the battle that eventually conquered it, it seemed most of the bar keepers and tavern owners had not. Everyone needed to drink, he supposed, no matter what flag was flying over the city.
“You alright there, mate? Looks like you dozed off there for a second…”
At the sudden voice, Taraak’s gaze came back to the man sitting at the table in front of him, the leader of the men he had hired.
”Aye, I’m alright. So you’re sure? Think hard.”
The man seemed a bit perturbed by continuing the conversation like nothing had happened, but kept on anyway.
“Yeah, I’m sure. Me and mine combed that forest and those fields for a league around. There was no one there. How many times I got to say it? If you didn’t trust me, why’d you hire me for the job?”
That, Taraak thought to himself, was a good question. He could have gotten any number of soldiers to do this for him, so why had he gone to a bunch of professional lowlifes instead? He supposed he trusted bought loyalty more than oaths. People who cared about nothing except money were unshakably, so long as you had the coin. Speaking of which…
Slowly, with exaggerated care, he unlooped the leather purse from his belt and held it up. The thief’s eyes followed it, glittering in the wavering light of the storm outside. Knowing he had him well and truly hooked, Taraak started to hand it over… then pretended to think better of it. “So, you’re sure you saw nothing of interest within striking distance of the city?” He said quietly, only just above the ambience of the room. The thief swallowed once, then spoke. “Yes, I’m sure.” As soon as he said it, Taraak dropped the money into his waiting hands. “Good.” He said, his voice still quiet. “Because if I find you’ve lied to me, I’ll find you and use your entrails for fishing line.” Seemingly unperturbed by the threat, the thief swept the money into the folds of his cloak in one swift, practiced movement.
“Oh, don’t worry. There aren’t any soldiers out there. The only ones to worry about are right inside the walls with us."
"You may not be wrong there. What's your take on the summit?" Taraak asked the thief, massaging his neck wearily. It was always good to get the opinion of someone who stood outside of the whole thing, for they tended to have a clearer view. In this case, the man did not even stop to think it over.
"Me? I'm taking what I can, then I'm getting the hell out of the way. Me and mine are clearing out right now, in fact. For me, the only thing that's uncertain is who will be left alive after this whole thing blows up."
Taraak sat silent a moment, chewing through that revelation with thoughts slowed by fatigue. No, it wasn't really a revelation. He knew that this would probably end in violence, although he had not before considered just how badly. That many magical beings in one fairly small room... Gods, it was a kill-jar just waiting to happen. He knew he would regret it, but maybe he'd reconsider that drink...
Right then he noticed that the thief had turned away from him, distracted by something coming in the door. "But then again, maybe I'm wrong," He was saying. "Maybe things will blow up even before the summit even starts..."
Looking up, Taraak found he echoed the sentiments.
Coming into the bar was a group of imperial soldiers.

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