Field Promotion
- --by Arrish
Spring 623. Stormwind Trade District. It's a blustery day with a sprinkling of rain, but upstairs in the small shop it's rather cozy.
"Welcome back." There's a little table for doing accounts. He retrieves cups and a flask of brandy from the drawer and pours for both.
"I've brought my full report." She lays down a thick envelope, accepts her cup, and sips. She looks like she hadn't been getting enough food or enough sleep, but she sits straight-spined, with a certain brittle poise.
"And you get a present." He slides over a smaller envelope and a little box, then waits for her reaction to the punchline.
She flicks a glance up at him, then opens the box first. She pales and looks incredulously at his sardonic grin, then regards the knight's signet ring as if it were a dead insect. "Surely this is not meant for me."
He chuckles. "No, it's my reward for fine shopkeeping. Read the writ and see for yourself. Or try it on and we can see if they got your size right."
Her lips thin and she opens the envelope. She scans it, frowns, and reads it again more slowly. Spreading her hand over the calligraphy as if to obscure it, she says. "It's a leash. And it's a blow against Hawk, straight at his pride."
He touches his nose, but says, "Service to the Crown, and all that. You volunteered for a sticky one and don't think they didn't notice. So sorry you can't tell anyone unless you have no other choice. But it'll come in damn handy then, and it'll place you usefully for later. The old man's decided to keep working the military angle with you, and this might even let you branch out. You might want to make this easier for him by getting out of the reserve."
Her gaze darkens for a moment. "He knows that I am not-- but it's never only one thing at a time, is it? Not with any of them."
"Play your cards right and in a few years they'll find an excuse to do this over again publicly."
"Is that a threat or a promise?"
He laughs easily. "I see you haven't changed much. Doesn't this beat waiting up all night on an empty stomach and then getting whacked with a sword in front of empty people?"
Her lips thin. "Not appreciably, no."
"You aren't going to turn this down, are you?"
"Do you think I could?" She borrows his pen and signs under the intricate seal, commenting, "Seems odd not to speak it aloud. I must be a traditionalist after all." She watches the ink dull to dry, hesitates, then slides the writ back to him. "Do you have anything else for me?"
"Nothing hot right now, but I'll let you know. Are you back in town?"
"I'm... no. But you can reach me via the old means. Thank you for the drink." She tucks the box away before she rises, then adds, "And thank you for conveying this to me."
"I'd get up and bow, Dame Wasp, but that's not quite my style."
She just exhales, more an expression of weariness than a sigh.
More seriously, he says, "Wasp, that was good work out there. You got the job done and no one knows it was us. You even managed not to die."
Her expression lightens a bit. "Thank you. Truly." She hesitates, then asks, "Could you tell Hawk about this? He'd take it better coming from you."
He's still laughing as she makes her leave.