Whisper of the Silent Hand

Chapter Five - Knowledge is Power

       The night air was clear in the Lankhorian capitol city of Lankhor, a rare event in itself. Smoke generally hung heavy in the air obscuring any view of the stars. Gabrien Faust, Minister of the Red Dagger, the Lankhorian government's branch of Intelligence, looked to the heavens and enjoyed the spectacular view from his office balcony.

       He traced his finger around the lip of a crystal goblet as he looked into the night sky. The Constellation of the Dragon twinkled from its place in the heavens. The red moon, Kentha, was passing through the Eye of the Dragon, which would provide for an ominous omen, if one believed in that sort of thing. Gabrien rarely put faith in such spiritual beliefs. He was grounded in what he could see and hear, but he was wise enough to know there is some truth in all things.

       He squinted his eyes briefly as a shooting star burned bright, then slowly trailed into nothingness. Faust thought back to Jormun, the court astrologer and his old mentor, who only a few weeks ago warned him of the signs. The signs, that a great darkness would rise from the south and stir the dead.

      "Crazy old man," he whispered to himself.

      He always passed off the old astrologer's ramblings as a sign of advancing age.

       Age. Gabrien was starting to feel the touch of time upon his limbs. Gradual arthritis had worked its way into his shoulders, and his right hand was stinging again. He flexed it. The phantom pain of the missing fingers made itself present more frequently. He couldn't figure out why the pain hurt where appendages were obviously absent. Maybe he was slowly following Jormun into senility.

       "Lord Faust, sir?" said a young voice from behind him.

       Gabrien rolled his shoulders then turned his head in order to work a kink from his neck. He looked briefly over his shoulder at the page. His brow furled in annoyance as his tired eyes looked down into his goblet and slowly swirled the red liquid.

       "What is it, boy?" Faust sighed.

       The page stepped forward onto the balcony overlooking the broad court yard of the Offices of the Red Dagger, He put his hands together and bowed.

       "There is someone here to see you, Lord Faust," the page hurriedly explained. "He says it is a matter of dire urgency."

       "The hour is late," Gabrien was annoyed and he drank down the last swallow of the fine red wine. "Have one of the attendants take care of the matter."

       "I'm sorry Lord Faust, b-but he asked for you personally," the page stammered.

       Faust placed the fine crystal glassware on the nearest sitting table and brushed passed the page as he walked into the library. "Do you have any idea what the phrase, 'Do not disturb' means?"

       The page shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, "Yes m'lord, but Sid'adus Morn awaits audience with you."

       "Do you have to piss boy?"

       "No m'lord!"

       "You're doing the piss dance." Gabrien said impatiently. "Now get out of my sight."

       The page looked at Faust with a quick question in his eyes as he kept shifting about. Faust knew if the boy went back to Morn with anything but passage into the room, he would be severely cuffed upside the head. Morn was a brute. He kept the page waiting as he ran his fingers through his short, shock white hair.

       "Fine, send in Agent Morn." Faust turned around so as not to let the page see him smile, then with a wave of his hand said, "You are dismissed."