Neal sat the woman down in one of those hard, wooden seats that put thin slats in it's occupant's back every time you lean into it. It was his own way of getting back at her for interrupting his life. Although he couldn't really fault her for putting an end to his dreary slicing of sanguine berries.
Once they were both settled in their chairs, Neal in his father's cushioned one, she began her story with, "Nealan, I never thought I would meet you."
"Nor I you," he said truthfully, wanting to add something along the lines of, 'I have no clue who you are', but thinking it might be rude and perhaps slightly obvious.
He was right. She caught the drift of what he was saying, and seemed embarrasses enough about forgetting to introduce herself to him that he found himself forgiving her a little and feeling kind of mean about the chair. "My name is Mina."
A funny tingling ran down Neal's spine. He started to get a flashback of the time when he was seven, but he quickly pushed it away to think about later. Now was not the right time. Still, he knew what he was starting to think, and decided it couldn't hurt to ask, "Is that a nickname?"
A look of amused puzzlement played across Mina's face. "Yes. It's Lemina. Is that really important?"
"No. Yes. I like to be called Neal." He cursed himself. It could hurt to ask, apparently, because now he looked like an idiot. He had hoped to appear cool, calculating, sharp, and aloof. Someone had once written that it was always a good idea to keep the other fellow in awe of you. Neal had been planning on following that advice, but now that was scratched. Were spies ever allowed to look like fools? Probably not.
"Alright then, Neal," Mina smiled at him briefly. "I need to speak with the Baron George Cooper."
Neal stuck up his index finger to come up with a good reason why she could be denied seeing the unofficial spymaster. Most people didn't know that he, not Myles of Olau, was in charge of Tortall's intelligence. But whenever someone asked about the Baron, everyone worried that another country had found out.
"He should be at Pirate's Swoop, right?" She continued, disregarding the pointed digit and lowering her voice to a whisper. "I have information for him."
There was another problem. As far as Neal's understanding extended, about the same as his stationary finger, but presumably farther that this foreigner's, George was currently stationed closer to the Scanran border and the king. But this was another piece of information he did not and didn't want to have the right to disclose to strangely dressed, strangely familiar, foreign females.
Seeing his badly concealed inner turmoil, Mina added, "About the war."
That was it. He couldn't decide that the information she had wasn't utterly crucial for George to hear. So he would have to help her reach him.
"I'll tell Lord Wyldon that you're here," Neal decided, wondering why she hadn't just gone to him in the first place. Or to Pirate's Swoop, for that matter.
She had a stricken, pale expression her face. "No! You can't tell anyone! My information is for George Cooper alone! If they find out I'm hereā¦"
Something about the look in her green eyes told him that at least this much of her story was true. But Neal didn't want to just reveal the spymasters location to an alien during a time of war.
Well, tomorrow's math class could wait.
