Ely edit 20 Jul 2021.
2 qps
Total: 2 qps
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The sun was out, shining bright across the travel worn city square. A gentle breeze rolled across all passerby, cast from the west and heading only further inland. Soft, but constant. Much like the small pain behind his temples, which had been keeping him awake and alert. Well, alert and annoyed. Looking up at the sky to get a grasp on the time, Mithos shielded his eyes against the sun, whispering to himself, “Great…”
He hated sunlight, because everyone and their flaming dogs came out onto the streets. Most days that would only mean a small annoyance as he broke up any fights, or chased down any petty thieves. Today it would cause quite a few complications in his plan. Well, in their plan technically.
“Sinnan, I don’t mind going to the tavern in mid-afternoon, but this isn’t subtle enough. We should be meeting him at night, or at least before everyone is on the streets.”
The two men stood alone by the alley to pet one of the strays the city housed. Grinning, his companion whispered in his gravelly voice, “Watch the street. I’m gonna take a leak in the alley.”
Disgusted, but understanding the need to keep the crowds away, Mithos casually leaned against the wall facing the main road to the north. He felt off without his badge or his good running boots. Tanchico was a huge city, even with the Seanchan holding the western peninsula. It was a lot of ground to cover, and it had taken weeks to maneuver their source without being noticed, and now half a day to safely mark the location. Well, Sinnan would mark it with the fragment of rock and several well-hidden scrapes in the shape of a tree. Among other things. Guessing about the drunk the older man was masterfully playing, it would be something his wife would be angry about.
The bar across the street was where they’d meet their informant once he saw the mark. Or smell it. Damn Sinnan was fitting the vagrant act he’d worked on well enough you’d never know the man had never actually gotten drunk a day in his life. Meanwhile, Mithos had been stuck trying to keep up by not bathing and growing this awful beard that itched like the Dark One’s left…
“Let’s go kid. Threesers are when Kiyna opens the good taps. It’ll be worth the walk for freshie, I promise ya.” The bastard even had the nerve to trim his beard to look more raggedly than before. How’d he do it?
He walked and joked as they approached The Blue Beggar’s Inn. It’d be nearly an hour before Galt came by, as the man wanted to avoid any and all chances of suspicion. Drunks were easily dismissed, and this cover actually did make keeping an eye on the peninsula roads much easier. They worked in shifts and varied their movements and schedules to avoid notice for the past few weeks. The streets further west had become a barricade of anything both sides could put up. The street acting as a border for now was eerily quiet and empty, save for the soldiers and the archers lining all the major vantage points facing west.
When the Seanchan ships had first been spotted, the King had ordered all archers from the surrounding towns and cities to be brought in specifically to counter their damane. He’d probably saved the rest of the city before the invaders killed him. Mithos had never met the man, but that at least deserved proper respect and a toast at most taverns.
Sitting down at a table further back, Mithos scanned the room and nodded his head slightly at the Innkeeper to let her know it was the right day. He whispered to Sinnan, “If Galt’s damn paranoia didn’t work for our scouting shifts, I’d have banged on his door at the deepest hours of the night just to show him how much easier it is to hide during the night patrols.”
“Only four passerby took any real notice of us, lad. Two were our own guards, and the others gave us a delightful grimace. With our apparently talent, I think we should have been performers!”
Mithos just shook his head. “I’ve pretended to be a gleeman before. Juggling is much harder than you’d think.”
Sinnan kept his chuckle low, most likely to keep any of the other half a dozen people from watching them. “Not gonna catch Lerina’s eye with cheap tricks. Maybe spend less time stalking the city at night and more to impress her with your fancier skills.”
“Rina? Hathin already proposed to her. They’ll be wed in the spring up in Alcruna.”
The older man actually started, before catching himself. “That’s wonderful! I mean, it might hurt your chances a bit. But good for her.”
Mithos had a great bluff face for cards which had made him more gold than he’d ever admit to his friends. It took a wonderfully long moment for Sinnan to catch on, which the younger man took for a triumph against this particular foe.
“So he never really asked, I take it?”
“Oh he did, and she punched him in the gut for being dumb enough to try it in a crowded street. Said it might give others stupid ideas.”
Both men laughed into their mugs, though Sin was only pretending to drink. “I can see why you like that one. She’s got spirit. Or something. But she sure has a lot of it.”
“The chest doesn’t hurt either. But she knows I’m off limits. That particular ship isn’t leaving the quarantine period any time soon.”
“Women across the Westlands mourn that loss.”
Mithos flicked one of the shells from their snacks at him, eyeing the clock behind the counter. “Let’s play that other table in some cards or darts. Think I can get them to cover our costs?”
“Depends. Fair or fancy?”
He gasped in mock astonishment. “I’ve never cheated at cards! And if they are too drunk beforehand to keep track of the dartboard or weigh their dice, that’s their fault.”
“Of course. My apologies, Great Gleeman.”
Ignoring him, Mithos turned to the three men sitting at the table a good ten paces away and shouted, “Lads! Best of twelve for dart or worst of lows for cards? Winner buys!”
Sinnan rolled his eyes as the other men joined them, pulling over chairs and one of the house provided card sets.
After a few healthy wins for both sides, Galt entered the tavern and asked the innkeeper for something to drink. Thankfully the man did a good enough job pretending to only scan the gambling table out of brief interest before sitting down at the bar. They were going to make a proper spy out of him yet.
A few well-placed bad bets and the other men returned to their own table to split the winnings, while Mithos gave his best impression of an angry glare from behind his now empty mug. Sinna got the signal. “Let me buy ya something to eat so you’ll stop thinkin about gettin that silver back the hard way.”
Getting up from their table to sit at the small bar that conveniently only had three stools, the men nodded to each other as they made their order.
This was the moment they’d waited for, and the only reason this tavern had been chosen. The food was terrible and the drinks were weak, but the bar only had three stools on the opposite side of the room from where anyone else would be sitting this time of day. It didn’t hurt that the innkeeper was both pretty and an informant for the Civil Watch.
What even she didn’t know was that all but two of the patrons at the tavern were members of the Watch drawn in from the other cities across Tarabon to avoid anyone being recognized. All this work to deliver this one man to a place he felt wasn’t a trap from either side that had been trying to use him. Everything would ride on how Galt replied to their coded message, “When is your wife due?”
Galt looked up from his pheasant and whispered, “Not too long now. I have the midwife coming to check on her tonight.”
His heart pounding so strong he thought for a moment others would hear it, Mithos nodded and smiled without pretending. Their spy was in place, and the signal had now been given. The first strike to take back the city from the Seanchan would begin at sundown.