Gaias had a busy evening ahead of him. Usually this type of work he would delegate.
He always had some officer looking to show his worth nearby. He had learnt though, when working against the queen and her pet a personal touch was necessary.
He decided that Marie held the leash, whether she knew that or not. Arron would do anything for her.
He was walking through the eastern quarter of the inner city, high buildings with domed roofs loomed underlit by lamps built into the side of the road.
He noticed that the wall paintings of the outer city were becoming a trend. That bothered him.
If people feel comfortable expressing themselves, eventually they will become rebellious. He thought rebellion always sparked with knowledge. Now he knew better.
He cut left off the highstreet into one of the commercial streets, a glowing place of life and leisure. Bars flooded with patrons and couples walked the streets. All oblivious to the wars around them, though playing them nonetheless.
Smart people always want to express what they know. This of course made intelligence a threat. But this was a common fact.
Emotion itself was the driving force; the force that drives people to knowledge, then rebellion after.
It couldn't be avoided. Gaias thought himself a more reserved member of the councils, though he too had skeletons. Luckily the queen and Arron both had theirs.
He went into one of the quieter establishments, a gentleman's lounge called The Curator.
It had once been a church building. The place was of tasteful design, its orderliness emphasized by its angular style.
He had visited and used this place a number of times, for business and leisure both.
He met a poorly dressed man in one of the many booths. His orange suit was two seasons out and he still wore a beard.
He sat at the man's table, slid the collection of glasses his contact had built up.
I'll be paying for those I assume. He thought to himself. He crossed his legs and made a show of looking over the man.
"Sober enough for this, Markus?" he asked critically, leaning back and raising four fingers.
The servers knew what it meant, he had his usual in front of him less than a minute later.
The disheveled reporter nodded lazily, eliciting a sigh from Gaias. He sobered quickly.
Even a man as arrogant as a reporter knew not to test him.
May as well get this over with.
"The guard captains are fighting again." Gaias began. "They seem more interested in setting blame than catching that new killer in the slums. The prophet as you call him." Markus took a moment thinking.
"I could run that." He said. "But it's not exactly new."
"It doesn't need to be new for my purposes, people seeing it is enough. Though do slip in that the military police have taken the case."
"Now that is new." Markus smiled, he began writing on a pad. "This happen today?"
"Two days ago." Gaias elaborated. "I doubt the captains know yet."
Markus smiled as he earned his pay and was finally sent off by Gaias. He stayed for a time, revelled in a job well done.
Run along to Arron now. He thought as he sipped his drink.
It had taken work tracking down someone who was even affiliated with the Conclave. He had a whole team devoted to it until recently.
Markus wasn't a member, his partner was though.
Two men. Gaias thought. Unnatural. The very thought put him off his drink. Usually he would never associate with their kind. Back in the day he would hunt them for sport.
It always felt more sporting than hunting an animal, they didn't even know what a rifle was. He had been taught that by his father the first time they hunted together. It was the first time he had killed a man.
At least he could look back on it with some pride, society wouldn't have to support an abomination any longer.
People must live for a purpose, for perfection in that purpose. Anything without purpose was a hindrance to society and therefore was less. He learnt that lesson from his mother, when she died. She should have learned, society overwrites all.
Especially when it benefits us.
***
"And all went well? He didn't notice anything?" Arron asked.
"No, Arrogant prick takes fear for sincerity just like all lords."
Arron laughed, though he didn't like the news. Nor did he like Markus, not for his nature but for his habits. The man could drink for the whole city.
"How is Torrin?" He asked his informant. "He tells you more than me, I'd assume."
"Well enough." Markus said, surprisingly confrontational. "You did send him to a warzone."
"He shouldn't have told you that." Arron said in a clipped tone, he didn't even mean to say it. It came out mechanically. In honesty, part of Arron missed Torrin.
"You shouldn't have sent him." Markus hissed back. "You know he has been struggling."
Arron signed; pressed a palm into his eye. "He would be safer there than here. Believe me when I say that." He looked to the end of the alley they were in as a group of men passed loudly.
"None of us believe you, Arron. You're our manager, not our ruler." with that the younger man was gone.
Arron stood in that dark alleyway for a time.
I planned to have the man killed and now I ask after his wellness. He almost laughed as he leaned against the wall. He was glad Torrin didn't have to die, he was a good agent. A useful tool and a loyal friend. Perfect combination.
He would have to tell Marie what he had learned tonight, Gaias must be making a move on the guard. If Went got control of the capital's policing force, even the Conclave wouldn't be able to stop him.
He had told Markus to run the story. It would be too obvious if he stopped it entirely. The best he could do now was prepare Marie for the blow.
Gaias's comments would inflame the commanders.
They will probably lash out at one another, when that happens people will lose confidence in them. Arron had to appreciate the brilliance of it. This way he took out two council members and destabilised the queen's position.
He was using the rebelliousness that he and Marie had nurtured in the people against them.