“Madam.” One of her faceless mooks stepped behind her, “I have spoken with the barkeep and from his information found out that Ms Fishwash can be found at a place called ‘The Temple of the Unrisen’.”
“Is that all?” Hilda took a sip of tea, “What of Avalon?”
“It appears that shortly we hear that radio signal, the young Mr Fishwash had passed on.”
“And are tensions rising?”
“Not sure.” The man hesitated before speaking.
She placed her tea down and looked at the knight, an average looking man, completely, forgettable and easily thrown away from memory. He coughed “It seems that before this incident that there had been no signs of conflict between the two nations. Some of the people in this harbor at the very least seem to have very little idea of what to make of this series of events.”
“How many men do we need to effectively pilot our vessel?”
“About twenty” he muttered before answering again more confidently “twenty-five madam.”
“And how many do we have on hand after that incident on the way here?”
“Roughly double that number madam.”
“Okay well,” she stood up, her cup emptied. “Be a dear, stay here and see if you can guide the peoples of this port’s opinion on this matter to one of slight aggression.”
“Madam, with all due respect, I am not an expert in espionage.”
“It is not very difficult captain.” Was he a captain? She wasn’t quite sure and frankly she did not care. “A whisper there, a statement here, that’s all there is to it; a simple enough task for you.”
She started to walk out the tavern where she hoped that the repairs in her ship were done with as she had more men to place in this country if she wanted to stop this incident from going to waste. She stopped and faced the man once more, “If you can’t even manage that, then see to it there that word gets out that a small town was razed by forces from Avalon. You had sworn to serve no matter what task is given to you, is that not correct?”
The man grew pale but slowly nodded.
Metz slowly walked out the door.