Assistant

Assistant

                A few days of (still relentlessly intense) training in both combat and clothes making skills later, Tadyel decided to quiz Vanna about something that was bothering her. This time she asked during her evening training - Vanna had cautioned her the day before about keeping their true roles out of their daytime conversations.

                "So there are a lot of other agents in town, right?" asked Tadyel. She was mid-break, recuperating between series of sword exercises.

                "Yes. They each check in once per week so I don't get overwhelmed," replied Vanna. Tadyel was still yet to see how Vanna's end of the communications actually worked. After giving Tadyel a task to do she would disappear for a few minutes. Tadyel's prior questions had led to a request to not pry into the workings, which Tadyel had obeyed.

                "Can't we be sure any of them are trustworthy yet? They need training, at least, even if we don't reveal ourselves. It's only been about a month and I've already learnt enough that so many more options are open to me for handling missions that... I can't believe I succeeded," said Tadyel.

                Vanna smiled. "You succeeded because you came up with a good plan that was within your capabilities. But I do agree that your expanded capabilities are quite beneficial to your operation as an agent. It would be useful if we had a means of training the less directly affiliated agents, but I have yet to devise one," said Vanna. "However... We may be welcoming others into our inner group soon. Though it is difficult to ensure trustworthiness, a few agents are close. If they deign to accept the offer, as you did, they will receive additional training."

                "That's good, I guess. But it makes me realise, that I'm more worried about those you've forced to serve until they've done what you want. They should have as good of a chance to succeed as we can give them-" said Tadyel.

                "With which I agree. As I said just previously, a means of training those not party to our inner group would be highly beneficial. The trouble is that we must maintain secrecy, and the minor increase in effectiveness is not worth the risks. The value of my position, and the damage if I am compromised, forbid me from pursuing the more straightforward solutions," explained Vanna. "Apologies for being wordier than usual tonight; I spent four hours giving a full report on operations to my direct superior this morning." Vanna sighed, causing Tadyel to giggle.

                "You're a bit like that anyway," responded Tadyel. "Back to the swords?"

                "I was just about to suggest the same," said Vanna, rising with her practice sword (a wooden simulacrum of the real thing).

                They returned to practice, Vanna teaching and mock-battling Tadyel, until late in the night. During and after, Tadyel's mind chewed away at two problems: how could the refugees be given training, and when would the 'others' be trusted enough to join them? (and further, would they agree to work for the Magi further?)

                The next day, first thing in the morning, Vanna asked Tadyel to make some dead-drops for her.

                "Why?" asked Tadyel immediately.

                "To get things to someone who needs them, of course," replied Vanna.

                "I mean, for what? What is the someone doing?" clarified Tadyel.

                "None of your business, Gel," said Vanna. "Just put the parcels where I asked you to."

                "Why not tell me? I'd - I'd kind of like to know if I'm helping kill someone again," asked Tadyel.

                "It's an assassination. Just the one, but it will take a few days to play out."

                "Okay. Hey, why are there multiple drops? Is more than one person inv-"

                "Yes. Enough questions - I need you to get the drops done by midday. I don't want to risk having curious eyes searching for you." Vanna waved at a pile of three small boxes. Each was wrapped in a different colour of paper. "Take those in your carry bag, along with the delivery for the Pier family. Place the packages as you go, and remember which colour you left where."

                "Got it." Tadyel grabbed her delivery bag and loaded up her deliveries, then with a wave to Vanna headed out the door. Vanna, ever-busy, had already returned to work.

                Hiding the packages was more interesting - and intense - than Tadyel had expected. Suitable locations were hard to find, as it had to be both hard to accidentally spot, yet also easy to find if you had been told where to look. Searching while on the move (though at a fairly leisurely pace) was harder, and placing them harder again.

                Halfway there - and after hiding one package away in an untended garden - Tadyel realised that she would have a second chance at placing the packages on her way back. It made her feel better about missing one really good spot (a slight gap between a statue's base and the ground where part of the wall had fallen out) due to nearby wanderers.

                In the end, she didn't wind up using that spot. Instead she opted to leave one under some leaves that had collected in a broken fountain, and the other in a shoe abandoned in an alleyway. She was rather pleased with her choices; and the walk itself had been quite nice - doing deliveries certainly beat sewing and training endlessly. It was probably the weeks of walking she had done (and more, in preparation) that made the walk across town feel like nothing.

                Over the next few days, Tadyel spent a lot of time wondering about who the other refugee agents might be. Many seemed simply unthinkable - elderly, children, those suffering from starvation or dehydration on arrival, those the Thrath had maimed for fun. They weren't discounted completely from Tadyel's guessing about 'agents'; but she did assume that they definitely would not be the assassin.

                Of the rest - the strong adults and youths - some seemed more likely, others less. One of her favourite guesses was a brute of a man. He left the very next day, heading onwards to find his husband who had passed through before him. Despite a lot of watching (mostly accomplished during her lunch somewhere in town) Tadyel saw none of the refugees doing anything suspicious, so she was left wondering.

                When her curiosity made her resort to asking Vanna, she received a curt "Soon" in response. Though an open-ended timeframe, it was enough for Tadyel to be satisfied for a little while.

                It turned out that a little while was long enough: the very next day the town was buzzing with news of another death amongst Ormgus's followers. One of his lieutenants had been killed with a crossbow bolt to the head. Details of the gore were shared, as were details of the strange circumstances surrounding the killing.

                According to sources within Ormgus's camp he had been meeting with someone he trusted in secret for the past few days, a very enthusiastic pub patron told Tadyel. The nature of these meetings was unknown, but speculation said love, a spy amongst the townsfolk, or some mysterious being that lived somewhere nearby.

                During last night's meeting either the person he was meeting had turned on him, or someone else had taken advantage of his solitude to kill him. The enthusiastic patron shared his favourite theory in whispers: the lieutenant had been meeting with members of the Magi, and another of Ormgus's followers had done him in.

                Although Tadyel was certain that the assassination had been the one she assisted, the myriad of theories she heard left her very curious as to what exactly had transpired. She did her best to resist asking until late in the day, but it was still not yet nightfall when she asked Vanna, "What exactly did happen last night?"

                Vanna raised an eyebrow as she sewed. "Not feeling remorse over helping with an assassination, then?" she asked.

                Tadyel froze for a moment as her brain ran through her priorities. "A little. It's part of why I want to know what happened," she said.

                "I don't know the exact details, but the agent you made the dead drops for needed a crossbow. The parts, instructions and some bolts were in those packages. Her plan was to assassinate the lieutenant when he left the camp to meet one of their 'silent'," said Vanna, rolling her eyes as she said 'silent'. "They're members of Ormgus's group that are still amongst the refugees living around the place, and sympathisers. We know who they all are - they're terrible at being subtle. If it all went off as planned, the kill was done on the way there."

                "So Ormgus's people have agents too?" asked Tadyel.

                "They're more people who can keep an eye on other refugees less suspiciously, and find good potential recruits. If the Followers take any action it will be through their open members," replied Vanna. "Back to the operation, I can tell you more later after I receive a full report from the assassin. I suspect she will be joining us."

                "Really?" asked Tadyel. "That's good!"

                Vanna smiled slightly. "Agreed," she said. "Another inner group agent will make a few of my plans significantly more viable, as well." Noticing that Tadyel was deep in thought, she added "Back to work while you think."

                "Yes boss," said Tadyel, with a self-amused smile. She returned to her task (attaching buttons to a coat). Vanna, for her part, had worked throughout their conversation.

                The next morning when Tadyel wandered into the kitchen she found Vanna devouring some toast. Upon seeing Tadyel Vanna waved and said, "She agreed. I'll bring her here at lunch."

                "Same as with me, then?" asked Tadyel.

                "Yes. Identical pickup operation, almost," replied Vanna. "I'd have done a breakfast 'meeting' instead, but we have work to do. The big sash order is due today."

                "Couldn't we have refused to make the sashes? Helping the Followers is-"

                "Not in our best interest, yes. They had the money, somehow, and refusing would be a bit suspicious. I'm very refugee friendly, and you're still a refugee as far as the town is concerned. I do realise they would not be able to get the sashes if I didn't make them - no-one else in town could do more than a hack job - but there are out of town options, and this way we have an additional confirmation on their numbers."

                "Fine. It's okay if I do a poor job though, right?"

                "Do your best, Gel."

                Despite being irked by expending effort on the 'enemy' Tadyel was still excited all morning. Vanna was lovely but she hadn't spent her entire life under the oppression of the Thrath, which was almost all Tadyel knew. Also, Vanna was her superior - candid chats about doubting the Magi and varied feelings about killing again weren't really on the agenda. Having someone else to talk to would be nice.

                She also really, really wanted to know if one of her guesses was right. She knew it was a female refugee, at least, although more than half her guesses had been women anyway. Some were out because the idea of them using a crossbow and sneaking around late at night was very strange, which left only three.

                When Vanna returned after popping out for 'lunch' (leaving Tadyel to finish making the sashes while very hungry) the refugee she brought back - the new member of their inner group - surprised her. Tadyel recognised the woman, but hadn't thought for a moment she could be an agent. She had been looking after some children; Tadyel had taken her for a young mother, definitely not assassin material.

                She certainly looked like she could be a mother - despite her youth her face looked worried and weary, as if perpetually looking at something with concern. Her rich brown hair was cut short, something common amongst the refugees who often cut it before beginning their journeys northwards. Her features, though unremarkably, sat well with her blue eyes to give her a kind and peacefully concerned look.

                Build-wise she was very different from Vanna and Tadyel both. Rather than Vanna's svelte grace or Tadyel's stocky might, the motherly woman was a little on the scrawny side (despite her almost exactly average height making her a little taller than Tadyel). The way she held herself reinforced her other characteristics - here was a woman who wouldn't, and quite possibly couldn't, hurt a fly.

                Tadyel found it kind of worrying that such a woman was capable of murder. I mean, I kind of look like a bit of a thug, when I try, she thought to herself.

                Vanna led the woman through the workshop to Tadyel, smiling when she noticed the pile of (just) finished sashes. "Gel, this is Mavnen. She's decided to continue working with us after the assassination last night," said Vanna. "Mavnen, this is Tadyel."

                "I go by Ven, mostly," said Mavnen with a sweet smile. She held out a fist, and Tadyel double-tapped it (a greeting once used in some of the Peninsula countries).

                "Gel, although Vanna's already said it," replied Tadyel. "Hi! Welcome to our little... Inner group, I guess. We don't actually have a name or anything, do we?"

                "No," said Vanna. "It's the way my people do things. Unless you want to refer to us as the Green Creek Operational Unit Core Group, or similar."

                Tadyel chuckled, and Mavnen joined in after a moment. "You two get to know each other for a moment - I need to make a quick report," said Vanna, heading off to her private room.

                "Where's she off to?" asked Mavnen, taking a seat beside Tadyel.

                "Her room. She has whatever she uses to talk with her boss hidden in there. And to talk with the other agents, too," replied Tadyel.

                "I see. Secrets even from us?"

                "Well, it's not like I need to know how she does it. But yes. I don't know who the other agents in town are, either. The Magi are pretty big on secrecy."

                "Yeah. I couldn't get a peep from them about their constructs when they were asking about volunteers."

                "Oh, yeah. Vanna's said that if I'm ever trusted enough I might be told? I'm not going to hold my breath though."

                Mavnen smiled. "So how long have you been... Working for the Magi? Vanna said you're from the Peninsula as well."

                "About a month. I've been training, mostly. Day and night. This stuff-" Tadyel lifted a couple of sashes up. "-during the day, and combat at night. A couple of operations. I... haven't been asked too much. Not more than I want to do for my people."

                "Hey, aren't those the Ormgus sashes?" Mavnen's curiosity had honed in on them, rather than Tadyel's comments.

                "Yeah. Refusing the money wouldn't make sense. We haven't done anything to them 'cause it would be too suspicious. Anyway I want to ask you something: how do you feel about this?"

                "This?" Mavnen looked at Tadyel curiously.

                "Working for the Magi. Killing people. This stuff."

                "I'm doing this for my family - my kids, mostly. They're young but my sister's looking after them. If I do 'this stuff' they'll have a good life. So I think I'm doing what's right. I don't owe the enemies of the Magi anything, so why not take their side?"

                "I... guess," Tadyel replied. Mavnen seemed really sure of herself.

                Vanna chose that moment to come back into the room. "Now that the pair of you have become acquainted I'm going to give Mavnen a tour of the shop. Gel, can you deliver the sashes?" she asked.

                "Alright," replied Tadyel with a nod. She rose to her feet, and set about bagging the sashes. Mavnen rose as well, heading over to Vanna.

                As Vanna began describing the shop's operation to Mavnen, Tadyel thought, Ven's very... Certain of herself. I suppose it's for her kids, but. Oh well. She's right about not owing anyone here anything, I guess.

                Still a little off put, she headed out the door with the bag of sashes slung over her shoulder.