“I think the Gussellian battle was a turning point for Sarrefo and me. You rubbed our noses in the military’s futile strategy. The spy you saw in the pub, has been our go-between with Pacci. We always refer to him by his first name. We don’t expect to have to fight against Racellian soldiers, but there must be Racellian officers willing to step up when Bocarre and the rest of Racellia crumbles,” Pozella said.
“You know where I live. You can have messages delivered if we need to communicate, again. I won’t ask you where you live. I don’t want to know.”
Quint smiled. “Good! You wouldn’t want to know where an antagonistic old student lives, anyway.”
“Right! Will I see you again?” Pozella asked.
“I don’t know.” Quint said.
“I must return to my wife. She is expecting me.”
Chapter Thirt
y
The new information made Quint sad. He had to talk about his family’s demise more than made him comfortable. Life was going to change for Racellians, and it was going to change for him, no matter where he ended up.
Quint needed a safer space in the long term, and he didn’t trust being an even rarer hubite in a willot empire. He was continually being pushed by fate or whatever into joining Fedor and Calee Danko on their voyage home. It wasn’t a voyage home for him, but a forced emigration from everything that had made up Quint’s world.
He walked the streets of the international quarter in a state of depression. Thoughts of his parents and brothers as he grew up kept cropping up in his mind. He was close to his flat when he noticed a person behind him cross from the other side of the street. Quint turned to face him.
The man peered in a shop window, but Quint could see him trying to look sideways. Quint walked up to him.
“You are following me,” Quint said.
“I am,” the man said, straightening up and facing Quint.
“Who are you with?” Quint walked into the adjacent alley.
“I’m alone, at present,” the man said, following.
“No,” Quint said. “What faction are you working for?”
“Oh,” Quint’s follower smiled, “It’s permissible to tell you. I am Gussellian and work for the emperor.”
“Why are you following me? I’m so insignificant.”
The man laughed. “Not so insignificant if Emperor Colleto is keeping an eye on you. Have you told anyone what you saw in the southeast? I was supposed to ask.”
“I have,” Quint said. “People I trust, but they won’t be blurting it everywhere. I don’t know if Colleto wants the information spread or controlled.”
“The emperor has plans either way. You can do as you wish. What are your plans?”
As if Quint was going to tell this stranger such a thing. “I’m intending to stay alive through this crisis.”
“It would be easier to do that in Nornotta,” the spy said.
“Until I’m not longer of use to Colleto,” Quint said.
“I can see why you might be hesitant.”
“Good. That means our little talk is over?”
“It is.”
Quint put his hands together and put the spy to sleep. The man fell on Quint, so Quint had to lower the spy gently to the ground. The man had been civilized, at least until the point where Quint put him to sleep. He left the man in the alley and quickly walked to the flat.
It appeared that nothing had been touched as far as Quint could see. The encounter with Pozella and with the spy drained Quint of energy and he laid down for a nap on the couch. He woke and fixed a barely edible dinner from his limited pantry. He continued to work on his list of master strings until it was time to sleep. Quint spent another half-hour perusing a periodical. He searched for evidence of what Pozella had told him, but he couldn’t find any confirmation, but Quint also didn’t find any contradictions.
He changed clothes but continued to wear the broad brimmed hat. He folded the back of the brim up and the two sides making an echo of a tri-cornered hat. His eyes were still in shadows when he checked in a shop window as he walked to the international quarter market.
Looking for spies all around him, Quint brought himself up to his full height. He was slouching as he looked and realized that he might be drawing too much attention to himself. It wouldn’t do to look furtive in the middle of a marketplace.
He bought another change of clothes and a velvet bag to carry them. Quint hoped he looked like a fervent shopper as he handled goods and listened to what people had to say. It was clear that Emperor Colleto was beginning to make a lot of international people uneasy. Quint spotted Calee Danko at a produce stand. He worked his way over to her and held up a melon, looking it over and rapping it with his knuckles. Quint didn’t know why people did that, but he tried to make it look authentic. The melon looked ripe enough for him.
He bumped into Calee as he gave the melon to the stall keeper. She glanced at him and then glanced again. Quint noticed her almost silent gasp.
“I didn’t expect to see you out and about,” Calee said.
“I get anxious not being able to walk outside,” Quint said. “Is your father all right?”
“Good enough. Are you coming with us? Father wondered if you have enquired about passage on our ship.”
“I’ve thought about it, and I’m almost committed to leaving Racellia. It is not going to be safe, soon. The government is close to breaking apart.”
