Me Piget

     “You are late,” the Inquisitor said without looking up from the solid oak desk in the warehouse manager’s office. He flipped a paper over, before entwining his fingers, and resting his forearms on the edge of the desk. Slowly, he turned his attention to the two men, “explain.”

     The duumviri hazarded a glance at each other, silently deciding on who would respond. Jougs answered, “we met trouble.”

     “Took care of it,” Vorant added.

     The Inquisitor waited, calm brown eyes boring into them.

     “We were followed…” Jougs hesitated, “by a bird and some Mercs.”

     “Got away, though, didn’t we?”

     “How?”

     “Firebombs and a smokescreen,” Jougs said.

Omnium Opinionem

     “Can I help you?” Colonel Dagon asked in confusion. “How?”

     Leaning close to the colonel, Cassie whispered, “we’ve never done this before.”

     Perplexed, the colonel’s eyes darted back and forth from the young griffin king to the adolescent messenger. After thirty seconds, he sighed, “I see!” Nodding, he contemplated the best way to break the news to them, he finally said, “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. My liege, how old are you?”

     “Uh. I,” Kaiser Archel shrugged his furry golden shoulders and ruffled the eagle’s feathers of his neck, “thirteen. I think.” His irritated python tail twitched. “Why?”

     “Law, my liege,” Dagon answered.

     “Law?” Cassie asked.

     Turning to Archel, Dagon said, “you’ve got two years to learn.”

     “Learn what?” Archel asked.

     “How to rule your kingdom,” Dagon responded with a bow.

Me Taedet

     Peeking out a slit in the window blinds, Jougs stared up the empty street. He ran a hand over his cropped hair and exhaled heavily through his nose. When he turned from the window, he found Vorant watching him. “What?”

     “Just sent the old boy a message.”

     “And?”

     “Plan A is a go,” Vorant said.

     “Still? Okay. He hear from the others?”

     “I didn’t ask. He didn’t tell.”

     “We’ll know soon enough, won’t we?”

     “Without doubt.”

     “Should we get moving?” Jougs asked.

Intersum Consiliis

     In the span of 24 hours, Goldie’s Revenge had gone from tavern to recovery operations to temporary court for the Antigone. From the alcove left of the entrance, Justice Frederick Mayfield addressed his colleagues, “we’ve gone in circles for two hours. Without more information there is nothing for us to discuss. This day began with our debating the legitimacy of declaring war in the Kaiser’s stead. We were then sent here to meet and advise the Kaiser, who has not graced us with his presence. Here we stand, ordered to the seat of the attack and still no Kaiser. How certain are we that that missive was genuine? If the Kaiser is going to meet us, shouldn’t he have been here already? If he’s not going to meet us, how long should we stay? I say that after our meal, if the Kaiser is still a no-show, we demand General Tomlyn make ready for our transportation back to Ambrosia. Do I have a second?”

     “I second,” Justice Travis Scott practically shouted.

     “The matter of leaving has been moved and seconded,” Chief Justice Fraunx Adonis said, hiding his delight behind mundane procedure. “We are adjourned. Finish dinner. After which, we order the general to prepare transport.”