Media Nocte

     “Oh, sweet Mercury! What did you put in it, piss?” Brimley complained.

     “Yes. That’s the secret to warming it up. I piss in it,” Santos retorted.

     “Oh, now I don’t want it,” Brimley held the coffee cup away from her while looking for a place to put it down.

     “Here. Let me,” Santos offered.

     She mock handed him the cup, which he genuinely took, eliciting her to whine, “hey, give that back.”

     In the living room, Cassie whispered, “it doesn’t make sense,” to Archel who kept one enormous eagle eye on the bickering soldiers. “Do people never grow up?”

     “Chess,” Archel murmured. In stifling a yawn, all the feathers on his head and neck went ridged. “Game,” he exhaled. “Ooh,” he moaned, “I dreamed I was…” His beak fell and his lion’s shoulders slumped.

Fide Indigni

     Pointing to the stolen cargo van, the Inquisitor ordered Jougs to pull in behind it. By way of acknowledgement, Mr. Jougs jerked the steering wheel hard to the left. The Inquisitor gave Jougs a dirty look, but said nothing as the car slammed to a stop near the discarded shipping containers.

     “They’re gone,” Mr. Vorant murmured from the back seat.

     As the men congregated next to the cargo van, the Inquisitor said, “get your boss back on the line. The rest of you, spread out. Find them.” When the loader passed over his silver phone, the Inquisitor said to him, “go.” Into the phone he growled, “we missed them. Explain why you sent us the wrong way.” He listened for a moment, then said, “enough. We’re not your errand boys, Top. As far as I’m concerned we delivered the cargo on time.” Gripping the little silver phone tightly, the Inquisitor hissed, “that’s your problem. I expect payment as arranged. Don’t be late.” He hung up the phone, then shouted, “Misters Jougs and Vorant, attend me.”

Mihi Inimicus

     From the backseat of the Iago Citadel, Commander Dante calmly watched his surroundings. The drop-off center’s rear loading dock doors gaped open, though the dock was completely empty. Lieutenant Musgrove disappeared into the warehouse. A few minutes later, he exited, clothes laden arms topped with two pairs of shoes. When he reached the car, he tapped the backdoor with his foot and nodded. Dante pushed open the door and was nearly buried in the stink wafting off the pile as Musgrove dropped it in the seat.

     “Not sure if I got you the right size, sir. Not a fucking tailor,” Musgrove said.

     Dante grunted. He dug through the offensive pile, holding up various articles before dropping them. “We need a place to hide the car and prep.”

     “Got two options. There’s a bridge with some abandoned buildings west of here. Plenty of privacy, longer walk to Hell Hill. Or, a couple blocks north, there’s a car park, less privacy, shorter walk. Up to you, sir.”

Certa Arcani

     Karman Tunnel ran parallel to the currently dry Paradise Aquifer, in which generally flowed the runoff and floodwaters from Iphigenia. The highway and the aquifer flowed on an east-west axis through Sanctuary City toward the old capital. Staring over the aquifer, using the highway lamps to see, a kneeling Commander Dante carefully watched for any sign that he should abort the night’s maneuvers. He followed the 5 minute rule by waiting an extra two minutes before making his way through the brush alongside Paradise Aquifer. He staid in the shadows of the great water oaks, the natural sound barrier was meant to dull the noisesome traffic but actually served as walls in a corridor for the winds rushing down from Iphigenia. The early evening brought a chill that intensified each gust of wind that cut through his jacket. For the umpteenth time that day, Dante cursed the unsavory politics forcing him take covert actions. The commander of Camp Polkner, the desert hell of Poterit Dan’s military-prison system, was sneaking through roadside brush on the way to a clandestine meeting on the outskirts of Sanctuary City. He ground his teeth, but kept moving. He had a schedule to maintain.

Manus Iniectio

     Spinning around a bit too quickly, Ensign Sebastian Balin wobbled on his feet. His eyes locked onto a hysterical Kent Wheelock and the ridiculous scene in the bed of the old militia truck. Tears rolled down Kent’s right cheek while he unseeingly stared beyond the gathering of onlookers and he absently petted a dead falcon. Hopping around in the truck bed next to Kent was a second falcon that occasionally used its beak to nudge the dead one’s head. Finally, a tuxedo cat with half-closed eyelids, lay sprawled out in the truck bed, watching the falcon’s grief dance. Though his mouth dropped open, Balin’s eyes narrowed. Approaching cautiously, Balin attempted to use his body to block the view of the truck bed. Even over Kent’s laughter, Balin could hear the not-so-soft whispers of the retirees.

     “That boy’s got two birds.”   

     “Reckon he’s a baby Bard?”

Suis Moribus

     At the door to Patrick Field’s house, 1^st Lieutenant Santos addressed the two women he’d escorted from the Templus Ministrae, “one moment while I inform Colonel Dagon that you’re here.” Turning the knob and pushing the door, resulted in nothing. He shoved again, then looked over his shoulder and half-heartedly smiled as he knocked.

     When the door opened a crack, Santos declared, “tell Colonel Dagon I’ve returned with the Celatrix and one of her officers.”

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.

Potiri Rerum

     The ensign panted while standing before 1^st Lieutenant Santos. His curly red hair danced in the light breeze as he caught his breath, one hand in the air giving that universal wait sign. Santos impatiently tapped his foot, staring at the ensign.

     “Com-mander Fe-elis,” the ensign gasped.

     “Just breathe,” Santos ordered.

     Nodding, the soldier took a deep breath, “sorry, sir. I ran.” After another deep breath, he said, “Commander Felis is on the way. Has an investigation team. He’s pissed.”

Amicis Confido

     Placing the microphone back in its holder, Santos sat back in the driver’s seat of Colonel Dagon’s Iago Comet. He stared into the empty parking lot as he exhaled and wondered, who the hell comes up with these lame ass codes? Crowing cocks…there’s a completely inappropriate dick joke just waiting. I can’t believe he’s really dead. Okay…Okay. The Colonel is on the way. The Kaiser—um, the Kaiser’s body—and the Rose are under guard. I’ve got two teams following the Bards to where ever their birds lead. Oh, for Mercury’s sake! I owe that damn child an apology. But, it’s not like I knew he was the next bard. They could have told me. There was plenty of time during the ride up. This. This is why I hate cemeteries. I should increase the guards on the Rose and the Kaiser. The boy. I’ve got to get protection to the boy. I’ll believe that boy’s a griffin when I see it. This is too much. We’ve gotta get a team in to collect the evidence. I need to send someone to HQ to lead the Colonel down here. Do I move the body? The body. The body. Santos slammed both fists into the center of the steering