C14 Chapter 14

Saturday, May 17, 1681

Leid Braghest was a forty-five-year-old Kiltish emissary and an earth and thunder mage. He took a swig from the hip flask that he always kept hidden in his uniform, wiping his mouth with his fist. Walking quickly, he made his way down the halls of the Blue Hawk’s headquarters toward the meeting chamber. Known as ’Old Braghest’ to some, due to the frown lines he’s had on his forehead since he was a young man, he had an imposing figure, tall and broad. His beard, mustache and short wavy hair were brown. He had an almost square face with a large chin and some wrinkles, namely those on his forehead. His piercing cold hazel eyes scanned the roof, floor, and walls. His skin was deeply tanned because of his constant work outdoors as an emissary. The side windows were open, and the light that entered made it possible to clearly see the loose gray tunic he wore under a white cloak with elaborate golden, silver and black designs. The hood, which was connected to the cloak, rested on the back of his neck. Heavy dark brown boots completed his outfit.

Leid Braghest’s role was to provide logistical support to the chief emissary in the country. Braghest was significantly older than Sean — who would turn thirty-one this year — which made him uneasy until he spoke to him. A call from afar was never enough for Braghest. A veteran of the ’gray’ emissary corps, as they were called colloquially, he did not trust anyone unless he met them face-to-face.

"I don’t like that mask; I already told you that."

Speaking in Kiltish, they both stood in the Blue Hawks’ meeting chamber, close to the Kilto landscape painting. Sean Thiel, dressed in his usual military uniform, circular cloak and white gloves, stood in front of Braghest. This time his face was covered by an oval-shaped, silver-plated mask with fine and elaborate engravings on the outside with details along the edges. His mask had two large horizontal eye slits.

The silver masks, along with the white cloaks, were reserved for the highest ranking emissaries. The details and embroidery showed how important those who wore them were, as only emissaries who had been decorated or had a superior rank were authorized to wear them. The simple white masks and cream cloaks were used by lower-ranking emissaries.

The lieutenant had been sitting with his legs crossed in one of the armchairs, reading a book, when Leid Braghest entered. Seeing him, he stood up and they walked toward each other in silence. It was the second time they had met in person. The first time had been when Braghest had arrived at the port, and Sean Thiel had been wearing his silver mask then too. They had shared a short conversation and Braghest had been left with a positive first impression; nevertheless, Sean’s recent decision to wear the silver mask at all times when meeting with other emissaries seemed a little immature to him. Sean considered the metallic hip flask that Leid Braghest always carried with him, filled with the alcoholic beverage that he craved every morning, as a clear sign of immaturity and weakness. Sean did not believe that someone with such ’vices’ could be considered an equal in terms of intelligence and capabilities; however, he did still consider that he be a good temporary ally given his skills and experience. After all, Old Braghest was someone who had completed missions around the world, including a few dirty jobs that Sean knew about.

"Oh. Sorry, I just enjoy wearing it," Sean said in his natural voice. He brought his hand to his mask, pausing for a moment. "But I’m going to leave it as it is."

Braghest shot him a serious look and walked to one side before speaking.

"Let’s focus on what’s important. Your plan with this Johanstown fellow will keep the legal authorities and journalists busy. That takes a load off of us. So. When does Kantor’s replacement arrive? Our hunter?" Braghest pulled out his hip flask from his tunic pocket almost instinctively, taking a quick swig and tucking it back away with the same ease. He did not even seem to be aware that he was doing it.

"You haven’t lost the habit," commented Sean, and was rewarded with an aggressive glare from Braghest.

"It’s healthier than killing fatesmith children at night."

"That had to be done," said Sean, walking to the side. "You would have done the same."

"I heard that the family moved to a town far from the city. Wouldn’t it have been easier to kill them all or kill the father? He was the real target. Or did you think that they would stay calm after burying their dead son?" His face became serious. "Don’t tell me later that I didn’t warn you."

Sean had always known that was the better choice, but he did not want to be too useful to Kolamzi; doing a few favors would be enough.

"That’s what we have Dierst for," said Sean Thiel. "Didn’t you just call him the ’hunter’?"

"He’s a fatesmith hunter, but yes, sure. He can be used in different ways," Braghest walked until he was standing right over four of the marble tiles, which were in front of the picture on the wall, and gently tapped the area with his foot. "Here it is. I’m going in for a moment. There are things I need for my home."

It was normal for emissaries to have a secret room where they keep tools and magical supplies, such as this one hidden under the Blue Hawks’ headquarters, behind a secret door that could only be activated, using magic, by a Kiltish citizen. Usually only the chief emissary — Sean Thiel — would know its location, but given his rank Old Braghest was also aware of it. Unlike Emma, he also knew about the fatesmiths.

"When does he arrive?" asked Braghest.

"Dierst?" said Sean, in a sharp, ghostly voice, from under his mask. "His ship should be arriving in two days. He’s not a gray, from what I have been told."

The emissaries that were differentiated by their gray tunics worked from the shadows in countries where Kilto did not have satisfactory diplomatic relationships, and this was one of the few opportunities that Braghest would have to work for an extended time with emissaries from another category.

"He knows how to fight, that’s for sure," said Sean. He’s one of the Kapila 1 ’prodigies’.

"’Prodigy’ you say . . ." Leid Braghest turned to look at him with a cold and defiant expression. "I hope he can do more than just throw punches and shoot."

"The most important thing is his patriotic devotion. That will serve us well."

Braghest laughed to himself and spoke.

"Patriotic devotion? Are you referring to what Emma Kantor lacked?"

"It’s not something that you possess either." Braghest stayed silent while looking him in the eyes. "Kantor had many defects. With Dierst it will be easy to carry out Jorkast’s plans," his tone turned malicious. "Which to be honest, I care very little about." He took off his mask and placed it on the small table in front of the armchairs.

Braghest waited a few seconds before speaking.

"You’re not trying very hard to maintain your lie".

"It would be stupid to think that I could fool you. Leid Braghest or ’Old Braghest’, one of the most well-known and ruthless gray emissaries, you have worked all over the world. It would be a waste of time and effort to keep up a lie big enough to fool your instincts," he paused. "We could work together. Your loyalty is also questionable, is it not?" he spoke haughtily. "Besides, it would be a mistake to try to stand up to me."

Braghest’s expression did not change. Many years ago, when he was a low-ranking emissary, he had discovered that his superior was a spy for the country where they were working. He did not think twice about eliminating her. Perhaps in recognition of his determination, or fear of having him back, the Emissary Corps congratulated him and gave him his superior’s position.

"Ha. If you were part of the Central Ring I could kill you just for belonging to that group." said Old Braghest. "Have you finished?"

Neither of them spoke. Sean raised an eyebrow. Braghest knew where the lieutenant came from, he knew that he was someone who, like him, had lived outside the Central Ring — the central block of Kiltish cities surrounded by a dense impenetrable forest. A brief silence followed. Braghest continued.

"If you think you are untouchable, you are mistaken," Braghest said. "Hierarchically speaking you outrank me because you got here first, and you wouldn’t have made it here so quickly if your goal wasn’t to make it as high up as Jorkast," he paused to laugh at Sean’s uncomfortable expression. "I have many more years of service than you do. What makes you think that I am going to obey you?"

"I don’t want you to obey me. I just want to make sure everything is clear. Neither of us are loyal to Kilto, therefore —" he was interrupted.

"Therefore it wouldn’t be convenient for either of us to report the other," finished Braghest, looking up at the ceiling. "Nor would it make sense for us to go against each other. Is that what you were going to say?"

"Basically," said Sean Thiel, who didn’t want to lose face.

"More than sufficient. Anyway, who’s to say that I didn’t come here to have fun and get a promotion? I only ask one thing: don’t get in my way."

Old Braghest walked toward the door under Sean’s cold gaze. He stopped halfway.

"Just one other thing Thiel. Be careful playing with giants."

"Jorkast is no giant," replied Sean, after a pause. Braghest turned around to look at him. "He thinks he is."

"In any case, he is incompetent and lacks guile and stealth, but he has contacts," said Leid. "Where are you going to send our hunter?"

The lieutenant took a few steps before replying without meeting his gaze.

"I plan to send him as an exchange student to Harborne, the same university where Kantor was studying. He mentioned in a letter that he didn’t want to give up his studies."

"That university is cursed," said Braghest, before leaving.