• emoryjglass

THIRTY-THREE TALES OF WAR XXX: THE SPY

KANDRISEV, 2A213-2A230

Civil war rages in the black-blooded nation of Kandrisev. Its citizens grow restless. They demand their voices be heard. These are their stories laid out in thirty-three tales of war.



"SHE knows," the Spy emphatically said to the man. "Your wife knows, and if you choose this, she will have you and your lover killed."


"Why do you care?" He hissed, looking around the moonlit garden they stood in, which surrounded his mistress's house. "What does it matter?"


"Your insatiability will lead us all to ruin," exclaimed the Spy. "Have you not read the letters she writes? Do you not know she waits for you in Nilova? Can you even imagine the danger your wife has put herself in just to see you? Her husband, her betrayer?" The Spy huffed. "You are here for one reason and that reason is to ensure the war is won, yet you insist on sleeping with the enemy."


"The enemy?" The man chortled, raising his voice ever so slightly. "She has just as much a stake in this menagerie of lies and treachery as me, you, or my wife. She is on our side."


"Is she?" The Spy laughed. "Then you won't have the slightest problem with telling her the next time you lay eyes on her that you're married and that your wife is—"


"Shut your fucking mouth," he snarled. "I will not put her in any more danger than she's already in. Never. If my wife wants to be angry, let her be angry—let her kill me if she wants. But I will not let my Lady be abused and mistreated anymore than she already has been. It's cruel. Cruel."


"Your Lady," the Spy mocked. "Tell me—do you really believe your lady loves you? That she would care for you at all if necessity did not bind you? I know your lady well, you fool, and someone like you could never compete with the one she truly loves."


"To protect her is enough," he strained to choke out.


"It will never be enough."


"I—"


"Hello?" Called the voice of their Lady near the garden gate. Soon she appeared, looking as stunning and dazed as ever, no doubt having eaten one too many tablets of poppy leaves.

"Hello? Who is there?"


"Just me, Your Elegance, and your maid," the man replied.


Their Lady drew nearer, asking, "What are you arguing about?"


"Your maid has stupidly forgotten to prepare your outfit for tomorrow's performances." The man cast a sidelong glance at the Spy. "I know how important it is to you that everything is prepared the night before."


The Spy bowed her head toward her Lady, as she had been taught. "I am foolish and wrong,

Your Elegance. Please reprimand me as you see fit."


"No, no, there's no need for that…" her voice trailed off into the night.


The Spy cloaked her wolf-like smile with a sheepish grin. "Thank you, Your Elegance. I am unworthy of your benevolence. Shall you sleep soon?"


"Yes, that would be nice."


The Spy took her arm and led her indoors, glaring at her true mistress’s husband as she passed. Only fools and simpletons believed that a bud could blossom with nothing more than hope.



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