“If I can find the right ingredients, Calee and I will make you something more authentic. There are many polen eating establishments in Kippun and Narukun. I suspect you’ve never eaten traditional hubite food.”
“I have. There is a Narukun restaurant, but I thought I would save that for another time,” Quint said.
Calee laughed. “Father actually likes polen cuisine more than Narukun.”
A message was waiting when Quint showed up requesting his presence upstairs.
“The Danko’s aren’t coming in today. They’d rather wait for the office to be finished. Fedor has set up an office in the spare bedroom at his flat,” Quint said.
“That is fine. Fedor doesn’t have meetings scheduled until next week. I want daily reports from you. Henricco would like to know what you talk about with the Dankos and any opinions that might arise from those communications.”
“I am to spy?” Quint asked. He was upset enough not to have included an honorific.
“To be honest this time that is exactly what we want you to do, captain,” the colonel’s tone turned frosty. “If you want to share what you observe with the Dankos feel free. If you are hiding anything from us, your personal situation may be at risk,” the colonel said.
“Who is us, ma’am?
“The foreign ministry, of which you are a part. You are part of us, captain. Did anything happen of note?”
“We ate at a Slinnon restaurant. There are polen restaurants throughout the two hubite countries, Danko said. “He also gave me a history lesson on how one group pushes another off the continent and it becomes a succession of migrations. I never knew that hubites enslaved willots who had immigrated from Baxel.”
“I’m sure your knowledge of world history will greatly expand while Fedor Danko is here. Better you than me,” the colonel said.
Quint wanted to follow up, but he had already pushed the colonel too far, something he regretted.
“Is that all? I’m behind in my reading.”
“It is. Although you gave me a verbal report, I will still need you to write that up. We will want Doctor Danko’s words monitored.”
The basket was waiting on his desk. He peeked into the newly painted office and found the bookshelves had arrived, but the desk, table, and chairs were still to come.
On top of the basket were three Gussellian journals. Those had the top priority. The articles were more of the same Gussellian propaganda, but where there were always disparaging remarks about Vinellia, this time there were none. Barellia was attracting the most ire. Since Quint began reading the Gussellian journals, Racellia was always under assault, but the overt insults were growing, especially from one of the authors who hadn’t been aggressively anti-Racellian before.
Quint noted domestic references and he detected an increase in the mentions of economic activity. Could it be due to the ramping up of a wartime economy? He posed the question but didn’t have any answer. Quint suggested that someone in Vinellia find out if the Gussellian forces were doing any peacekeeping. That was one way for Gussellia to implement a soft invasion.
There was nervousness evident in many articles in the two other South Fenolan countries. Quint looked for evidence of defensive mobilization but didn’t find anything.
His analysis took him to the end of his day. He finished his reports and brought the basket up to the diplomatic corps offices. The colonel was still in, so he delivered his notes in person.
“Are we still surly?” Colonel Gerocie asked.
“No, ma’am. I get an impression that the economy of Gussellia is becoming more active. They may be shifting to a wartime footing and that might be driving up Gussellian economic activity. The other note is that I think we should monitor how many Gussellian troops are in Vinellia. Despite their agreement of cooperation, Gussellia could be occupying Vinellia, which would indicate a circling of Gussellian forces around most of Racellia,” Quint said.
“That’s a lot of ‘ellias’ for me to keep track of. If I need to get things straightened out, I’ll let you know if I need you tomorrow.” She gave Quint a smile. “I’m glad you worked out your attitude, captain. Have a good evening.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
When Quint arrived at the flat, Marena opened the door before Quint could turn the latch.
“We have guests,” Marena said.
Quint fully expected to be greeted by Fedor and Calee Danko, but two gentlemen dressed in black sat together on the couch. As Quint stepped in, another leaned against the doorsill of his room.
“You have another copy of the emperor’s string journal?” the man standing said in the willot language.
“It’s at the corps.” Quint said in common. He didn’t trust his ability to speak willot.
“I think it is still here,” the man said. “Shall we begin to force you to talk?” He nodded to the men in the couch. “Tie her up.”
Marena struggled, but not too hard. She was no match for two men.
“Where is it?”
Quint looked at Marena and then at the man who had walked into the room, standing behind the couch.
“I suppose this means that Pacci Colleto has gotten tired of my refusal to join his empire?” Quint asked.
“I wouldn’t say that, but he does have second thoughts about you having a copy of his strings.”
Quint sighed. “It is in my desk at work. The bottom drawer has a false bottom.” He hung his head for effect. “I already know some of the spells. Are you going to kill me?”
The man laughed. “Not at all.” He looked at the other two. “Untie her and let’s get the book. Tirolo doesn’t deserve to have it if he capitulates so easily.”
