“You know, when we first got here I thought we would be the ones springing the traps, yet here we are acting as bait again!” Riptide complained good-naturedly.

  “Oh, come now, who else can I trust with such an important role?” Oliver smiled sweetly.

  “Well, you’ve got me there.” Suitably buttered up, the Belgian settled back into content silence.

  “It’s all well and good asking us to do this, but this is going to have to be a concrete plan. I don’t recall the exact wording of my report, but the man didn’t exactly give us a backdoor key and a copy of his monthly schedule.” Alter folded his arms and gave his boss a serious look.

  The young lord chuckled quietly for a moment before shaking his head. “Again, you underestimate your own value. I have no doubt my uncle would drop everything and roll out the red carpet if he so much as caught wind of you being available. All we need to figure out is how you’ll get a covert message out to him, and I’m sure he’ll take care of the rest.”

  “Fortunately, that part should be fairly simple.” Lucille continued. “Bertrand still has plenty of loyal followers embedded in the city administration. We’ll let slip some details to one of them, something that’ll make them think you’ll be open to switching sides. Broken down contract negotiations, perhaps. From what I understand, your achievements would certainly warrant a raise in pay, maybe we have been unable to meet your demands.”

  “You’re certain they’d buy that? We’ve been playing the absolute loyalty card pretty strongly so far.” Boozehound asked sceptically as Tabitha quietly entered the room with an awkward bow.

  Lucille shrugged. “The man is obsessed with having all the information as soon as possible so he can gain maximum leverage. His lackeys will be falling over each other to be the first one to bring this new possibility to his attention, and will likely word it in a way that will please him the most.”

  “All hail the sycophant, I guess.” Whim commented.

  “Indeed. Is there something wrong, Tabitha?” Alter asked the maid who was still hovering near the door.

  “Oh, I had something to deliver to you, Sir. I, umm, didn’t realise the lord and lady would be here.” She mumbled as her eyes darted from face to face.

  Alter couldn’t help but frown, this was not the bubbly young woman he was used to dealing with. She seemed supremely uncomfortable, a feeling that appeared to be directed towards Oliver and Lucille. Noise from outside briefly caught his attention as chatting voices drifted through an open window belonging to a small cluster of maids carrying loads of freshly washed bedding towards the hall. Strangely, they were being led by the same woman who was currently fidgeting across the table from him. Well now, this was an unexpected addition to their little planning committee. He gave the false maid a hard stare.

  “I must admit, I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon, Ruffle. What’s brought you all the way here, into the home of your hated enemy? I hope you're not planning something drastic.”

  The other people present in the room looked at the two of them in confusion, their heads swivelling like spectators at a tennis match. Tabitha, or not as it turned out, let out a quick burst of laughter before waving to the room.

  “I admit, I didn’t expect to be rumbled so quickly. Relax, I’m just here to return the favour.” Ruffle dropped the false voice, and a moment later his body shimmered to reveal the masked face and workers clothes Alter immediately recognised from the Pebble Maze.

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  “What is the meaning of this?” Oliver immediately demanded, his hand grasping for the point on his hip where a sword would be found if he was wearing one.

  “Oh relax your majesty, I’m not here for you.” Ruffle growled as he stepped forward and delicately withdrew a sealed letter before placing it on the table and pushing it towards Alter.

  “I’ve got a vested interest in keeping tabs on what you rich folk are up to, especially when it concerns the safety of my people. I admit, I dislike you, but I hate that bastard trying to muscle his way in even more, so you get a heads up. Some of my boys who were hired to do some repair work in his mansion outside the city spotted a real fancy looking messenger as they were leaving for the day. Of course, they immediately smelt something wrong, and liberated him of his precious cargo.” Ruffle explained as Alter slowly picked up the envelope and inspected the seal.

  “The marks of a key, a crown, and two swans on dark red wax?” He observed, looking over to Oliver whose eyes widened.

  "That's the king’s seal. Why is Bertrand receiving direct correspondence from the royal circle?” He asked urgently.

  “Well then, I’ve done you a great favour today.” Ruffle clapped his hands together. “We’re even for the rescue aid you gave us that night, but this is all I’m doing for you.” He warned.

  “Works for me. You probably don’t want to hear it, but thank you for your help.” Alter nodded to the intruder as they turned away.

  “Don’t mention it. Oh, hey let me borrow you for a second.” He reached out and grabbed hold of Vangroover’s forearm.

  A moment later there were two Canadians standing next to each other, with the new one giving the original a cheeky wink before disappearing through the doorway once more.

  “I feel like I should chase after him for that, but I honestly don’t know how to respond. Does my nose really look like that?” The real Vangroover watched his doppelganger go with a bemused expression.

  “To have intercepted a royal messenger and stolen a royal missive, this could go quite badly if the court discovers it has entered our possession. Please tell me the contents are worth the risk.” Lucille buried her face in her hands for a moment before recomposing herself.

  Alter nodded and broke the wax seal, retrieving a two-page letter from the envelope. He quickly scanned the lines of neatly inked words, searching for the relevant details as they appeared. After a couple of paragraphs, he let out a low whistle and began to explain.

  “In order to combat the rampant banditry and lawlessness that has befallen the province of Grenveine, yadda yadda. The crown hereby authorises Sir Bertrand Masserlind, Duke of Cereloss, to raise a military taskforce and enter the territory in order to assist with the subjugation of rebellious elements. Due to the ill health of Sir Andrei Masserlind, Duke of Grenveine, the crown hereby grants Sir Betrand Masserlind provisional leadership of both provinces for the duration of the peace-keeping campaign.”

  “Damn.” Riptide whispered as the rest of the room digested what had been said.

  “No wonder he was so confident despite his recent losses, the man was about to land a knock-out punch.” Whim murmured in response.

  “Wouldn’t this mean he’s breaking one of the pillars?” Pavejack protested weakly.

  “With this letter in hand? He could march his army through the streets parading our flayed bodies for all to see, and it would all be completely legal in the eyes of the crown.” Oliver hissed through gritted teeth. “There should be a name at the end of the letter, what is it?”

  “Lord Maximillian Derradan.” Alter read.

  “The Lord Chancellor, my uncle’s highest placed friend. I dread to think how much time and resources it took to persuade the man to present such a drastic step to the king, and to get it passed. On the brighter side of this discovery, he won’t be able to do this twice.”

  “I hate to admit it, but we owe that body-shifting man more than we could possibly realise.” Lucille blew out a pent up breath.

  “Does this change the plan?” Boozehound asked.

  “No. If anything, it’s just made recruiting you all the more attractive for him. We’ll let him stew for a few days, make sure he realises that something has gone wrong with the letter. Once that’s done, we’ll give him a chance to speak to you, and we’ll go from there.” Oliver nodded having recovered from the initial shock of the stolen paperwork.