Note from the Author: So I haven't wanted to say anything and jinx it, but it looks like Fridays are my new update days (if the past few weeks have been any indication). I've found a writing groove lately. Let's hope it lasts.

Thanks again for the reviews, etc! So I haven't heard anyone theorize about who Calypso might be. You're about to find out; I'd love to hear what your theories were prior to this chapter. Did any of you guess right?

Ch. 10 – Plans Go Awry

In one of the festively bedecked streets of Mycenae, a drum-maker sat with his wares. He'd managed to save most of them from the sudden downpour a few minutes earlier; his stall had a nice canvas covering, so he got to kick back while some of the other vendors had scrambled to save their merchandise.

He held a Ukulele, which he strummed with deft fingers, casually making up a tune as a means of attracting passersby.

When you meet a beautiful woman, beware

Her smile is a trap, mon, her eyes are a snare!

She'll kiss you, then lose you, and say fair is fair

Then go find another with never a care.

"Blue, I didn't expect to see you out here!"

Calypso looked up to see Sirena, wearing a sequined dress meant to evoke a mermaid if the shells in her curls were any indication. She removed a glittering silver mask when she saw him, revealing eyebrows knit in concern

"Weren't you going to try to win over Queen Helena?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't think that woman can be won, mon," Calypso replied as nonchalantly as he could. "She's got a heart of stone."

"She turned you down, huh?" Orpheus put in with a yawn that turned into a smirk. He too was dressed like some sort of sea creature. Sirena had him by the arm. "I bet that had to hurt."

Calypso kept strumming and didn't respond, which made Orpheus laugh.

"I'm right, aren't I? Ya ha ha…! Oof!"

Sirena had just nudged him in the ribs.

"Hey, we're about to go perform at the docks," Sirena told him, smiling. "You should come play with us. You might be able to sell a few more drums that way."

"Nah, I'm good mon," Calypso insisted.

"I'm sorry things didn't work out this time, Blue. I wouldn't give up on her, though," Sirena went on. "She's had it really rough with men, you know."

"By her choosing," Orpheus pointed out under his breath, then purposely yawned when Sirena shot a glare his way.

"And she really loved her husband, too," Sirena went on, ignoring him.

"Tell me about it, mon," Calypso replied despondently, then muttered: "Better kisser my a—"

He spoke so quietly Sirena hadn't heard him. She might have smacked him for the foul language otherwise.

"Well, see you around, Blue," she said. "Oh, Homer! Wait!" She took off after the owner of Homer's, saving him from blindly stumbling into a stall of glasswork.

"I'm surprised to see you two out and about, mon," Calypso said to Orpheus, barely audible over his ukulele. "You trying to get her killed?"

"What's that matter to you?" Orpheus shot back, though he kept his voice equally quiet. "You never protect the women you're with."

"I never go after women who deserve the protection," Calypso retorted. "You just had to marry a sweet girl like that, didn't you?"

"Whatever. It wasn't a problem until you showed up," Orpheus growled. "Anyway, it's not like I could have kept her from the festival without being obvious. I'll just keep her away from the palace wine. You think the Navy's plan is going to work?"

"Maybe," Calypso replied. "You'd better hope so. If not, you can kiss your sweet little wife goodbye, mon. I've got orders from the top. If we have to mobilize, anybody who's formed a family here will have to annihilate them."

"You bastard," Orpheus breathed. "You come waltzing in here like you know what it's like. Some of us have been undercover for decades. The dress maker at the palace for instance…"

Calypso suddenly shot up, grabbing Orpheus by the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to his eye-level. "You all knew what you were getting into when you were assigned here," Calypso snarled in his face. "You can't talk, anyway. You've been here less than five years."

"Yeah, well, Cipher Pole 4 has been in this country for centuries," Orpheus pleaded, trying not to look him in the face. "And not once has this unit been mobilized."

"You expect me to feel sorry for you, mon?" Calypso growled, releasing him. He settled back down with his ukulele as Orpheus stumbled to the ground, eyes wide. "They say the laziest agents choose this unit thinking they can escape having to work; evidently you are one of them."

Orpheus had no response to this. It was obviously true.

"Get out of my sight," he ordered, then added with less venom: "You're starting to draw attention, mon."

"Damn womanizer," Orpheus spat. "It's no wonder you couldn't seduce the Queen. She's got standards, after all. I bet she heard all about your reputation in town. That nickname you've carried from island to island."

"Oh, she has. Only she doesn't think the stories are about me, mon, and when she hears them she doesn't believe them," he said, grinning his charming, toothy grin. "Before that there was someone else here with the same nickname."

"I bet that had to be a blow to your ego."

"I will find that man one day, mon," Calypso said, still grinning. "And I will end him. After all, there can only be one Hurricane Lover."

"Alright, Hurricane, just calm down…" Cygnus started, holding his wings out defensively in front of him.

Tacking on the old nickname certainly didn't help. Especially considering what Zoro had just discovered about Helena having a paramour. He pushed that detail out of his mind. Cygnus didn't need to know about Calypso. But Zoro definitely needed to know about his son.

"You purposely kept this from me, didn't you!" he barked. "Why?"

"Look, if you hadn't noticed, the sun is starting to set. Can't we talk about this later?"

Zoro growled in response.

"Hold that thought," Cygnus said. He raised his wings and started hissing. For a moment Zoro thought he was trying to put on some macho, animalistic display to try and intimidate him.

As it turned out, it wasn't him the king was trying to intimidate. A pair of toga'd policeman had started sneaking up on Zoro with a net. They balked at the sight of the angry goose, tripping backward away from him in surprise.

"They think you're rabid," Cygnus informed him out of the corner of his beak.

"Oh, I'll show them rabid," Zoro snarled. "When I tear a certain goose limb from limb!"

"That's a little melodramatic, don't you think?"

Zoro released a vulpine snarl, letting his father-in-law know he was done playing games. The latter flinched, but quickly regained his composure.

"Fine, fine. But we might need to find somewhere a little more private to talk," he conceded. "Bear with me, this may or may not work…"

The policemen were just recovering from their initial shock. Now convinced they had two wild animals to catch, they rallied themselves, their large nets in hand.

Cygnus hissed at them again, flapping his wings and holding them open wide. The policemen flinched, shooting each other nervous glares.

"You get him," one said.

"No YOU get him."

If Zoro weren't in such a foul mood, he might have been impressed. The King specialized in fighting his battles with his sharp tongue, and occasionally his toes; Zoro hadn't realized that Cygnus had anything of a warrior in him. Perhaps becoming an animal had made him bolder.

"Fine," the first policemen said, "I'll get the angry goose. You get the diseased, green fox."

"Diseased?" Zoro snorted indignantly.

"Alright, here goes nothing," Cygnus honked.

He'd given himself enough space to get at least something of a running start. He took to the air, albeit clumsily, then circled back and grabbed Zoro by the ears with his webbed goose toes.

"OW!" Zoro barked, writhing. "Are you insane?"

"I've been accused of worse!" Cygnus laughed. "Now stop your wiggling, you ninny. That is, unless you want me to drop you."

The Priests of Athena still talk of the day that a goose landed on top of their Lady's temple. Well versed in augury, this particular bird-sign had them flummoxed. They knew what it meant for a hawk to arrive carrying a snake for example, but a white goose carrying a green fox? Was it good luck or bad? The omen remained an unsolved mystery in the centuries to come, something for scholars to talk of in superior, analytic tones.

Cygnus released Zoro none to gently on the slanted stone rooftop, leaving the fox to scramble for footing. He might have blamed the goose for doing it on purpose if Cygnus hadn't crash landed a moment later, obviously still not fully used to his avian body. Fortunately for both of them, the temple had a flat lip at the edge of the roof, giving them a somewhat comfortable, or at least not slanted place to sit.

The temple towered above the street below, keeping them out of sight and soon out of mind of the police and other slightly alarmed festival goers below. It also offered a fantastic view of the white marble palace, even though they were nearer to Mycanae than the city center.

Zoro planted himself on the lip of the roof, catching Cygnus by the tail feathers with a ready paw when the king nearly rolled off. He honked out his thanks, and soon had found himself a comfortable perch.

To all appearances, Zoro's initial anger had cooled. He stared at the palace in silence, waiting for the King to speak.

"Listen…" Cygnus started after he'd smoothed his ruffled feathers. "This really isn't a great time to go into all of this."

Zoro said nothing. The rosy light of evening painted the pillars of the distant palace a light coral pink, but they still had another couple of hours at least.

"Don't you care what happens to Helena?"

Zoro didn't twitch.

"Wait, you are going to help us follow through with Perona's plan, aren't you?"

"I never agreed to anything," Zoro pointed out, still staring at the distant palace. "You can make it work without me."

"Hmph," Cygnus grumped. "You two and your stupid rules. You really think she doesn't want to see your face right now? Helena needs you."

"My son, Cygnus," Zoro reminded him.

"She loves you, too," the King said flatly. "Gods only know why. When you died she was devastated. The sooner she learns you're alright…"

"My SON, Cygnus," Zoro emphasized, his hackles rising again as he tried to ignore the stabbing sensation in his chest at Cygnus' words.

"You told me when you married her that you knew you couldn't give her what she deserved," Cygnus harumphed. He seemed awfully eager to change the subject. "I guess you were right."

"Yeah, I guess I was!" Zoro snarled. "You know, she told me the main reason she wanted to find a husband strong enough to protect her when she couldn't defend herself; her mother died in childbirth because you couldn't save her." Cygnus had dealt him a low blow, he didn't see why he couldn't do the same. "One of her greatest fears was childbirth, and I wasn't there for her. How could I have been when no one even thought to tell me she was pregnant?!"

"Helena wouldn't let us," Cygnus informed him, his feathers starting to stick up the more ruffled he got emotionally. "Those stupid rules she made…"

"You seem awfully set on me breaking them now," Zoro reminded him.

"Maybe because I've learned we should have broken them before," Cygnus said heavily, deflating. He sighed and looked away. "Zoro, you don't have a son…"

"Don't try to lie to me…!" Zoro started.

"Let me finish," Cygnus snapped, meeting his gaze now. "You don't have a son, you had a son."

"What…?" A wave of foreboding swept over him, and his ears flattened involuntarily against his head.

"His name was Telemachus du Helena et Zoro," Cygnus went on quietly, avoiding Zoro's gaze. "He's dead."

There couldn't have been a worse possible moment for a stampede of bulls to come barreling through the street. Led by a little brown rabbit who rode the fastest of the pack while holding a tiny stick in the air, the herd crashed into a large stack of barrels on one of the street corners, shattering all of them before moving on to another pile just down the way.

Zoro barely witnessed the incredible scene unfolding on the street below them. The sudden revelation about his son made him feel as though he had nemomora poisoning again. –the sound seemed to disappear around him, like he had suddenly been dunked underwater. A chill washed over him in a feverish wave, and he saw his dream over and over again in his mind's eye. -Saw the beam of light pass through him to hit Helena and their child.

Hector led his bovine troops onward, and the ruckus died down almost as quickly as it had started.

"It looks like that part of the plan worked at least," Cygnus muttered.

"What happened to him?" Zoro asked. His voice was steady, though his body shook with emotion. "How did he die?"

Cygnus bowed his head, but didn't respond.

"Tell me!" Zoro demanded.

Cygnus sighed heavily. "If you want to know that, you'll need to talk to Helena herself," he said.

A new chill washed over Zoro, but this time it had nothing to do with emotion. He recognized the prickly pins-and-needles type of feeling from when Circe had transformed him into a fox earlier that day. He saw his nose shrink, felt his ears settle themselves to the sides rather than the top of his head. His skin started to glow beneath his fur, itching as it elongated back into his normal human limbs.

A moment later, the goose and the fox no longer sat on the temple roof. They'd been replaced by their human counterparts.

Cygnus staggered, nearly falling face forward off of the roof as he flapped his long lanky arms to no affect. Zoro caught him by the belt of his pleated royal robe, yanking him back so he stumbled and landed on his now featherless backside.

"Well!" Cygnus gasped, his golden laurel crown askew. "It looks like Perona defeated Circe a mite early!"

He was just as tall and gangly as Zoro remembered, but he'd definitely put on some muscle. It made sense. When he and Zoro had first met, Cygnus had only recently recovered the strength to walk free of a wheelchair. Still, the muscle had more tone than Zoro might have expected. The king also had a sword strapped to his side; a longsword Zoro recognized as belonging to Cygnus, though he'd never actually seen the man carry it.

Zoro had reappeared in the same clothes he'd fought Circe in. He pulled the paper bag off of his head, eyeing it in distaste before he crumpled it and tossed it onto the street below.

"I'm going to need a better mask," Zoro said flatly. "That one's a liability."

"You didn't see that to begin with?" Cygnus asked, one fluffy eyebrow raised. He adjusted the crown over his prematurely white hair, tightening his ponytail to keep the flyaways out of his face. "Does this mean you're going to see Helena then?"

"You don't really leave me much of a choice," Zoro pointed out in ill humor.

Cygnus smiled. Stroking his well-groomed goatee, he looked Zoro once over thoughtfully.

"Hmm, well, I guess we can be glad Perona's plan went slightly awry. You look like a castaway," he wrinkled his nose. "Smell like one too. Come, let's get you ready."

"I'm not making some grand entrance," Zoro insisted. "Let's just find Helena and tell her about the assassination."

"Yes, yes," Cygnus said absentmindedly staring at the street below. "Roronoa, we have a bit of a problem."

"What?" Zoro grunted.

Cygnus looked up at him, fluffy brows knitted in concern. "How do we get down?"

"Bad business at the palace tonight, mon," the drum-maker said to the short, portly man inspecting his wares. The vendor had one of his own drums in his lap, and beat on it from time to time to show off its pleasant, hollow sound.

"Bad business, you say?" his customer replied, stroking his magnificent white mustache. "Don't tell me you've grown attached to the Queen."

"If she'd have run away with me, she would have survived."

"Oh ho ho!" the man laughed loudly, clutching his round belly. "You tried to seduce her after all, did you? After I warned you at the outset of this mission that it wouldn't work. I shouldn't be surprised." He stuck a bubble pipe in his mouth, puffing a few bubbles into the darkening air. "You do tend to string women along like it's your job, mm? But why try to undermine Regent's plan?"

"There's no guarantee that it will work, mon," Calypso said quietly. "But if I could have gotten 'Elena to fall in love with me, I'd have neutralized her as a threat, no? Then our stupid, lazy agents wouldn't have to mobilize and embarrass themselves."

"I suppose," Mr. Bags mused. "At least for a time. You'd have to marry her for that to fully work though."

"I would have gotten to that, mon," Calypso pointed out. "If Roronoa showed up, I'd have killed him in combat, simple enough. Then she'd have seen me as worthy of the throne. If he didn't show up, well, with me as her lover I doubt she'd have chosen another."

"You're that confident, are you?" Bags laughed again. "It's not like you could have stayed true to her."

"Keeping a woman isn't about staying true," Calypso said. He picked up another one of his drums. "None of these instruments care how many I play, so long as I fully appreciate the beauty of their individual voice while I play them. You see the woman you're with the moment you're with her, enjoy her uniqueness and beauty, then move on when the tune is done."

"Blue, you'd as soon kill any one of your lovers as make love to them," Bags reminded him. The words implied disgust, but the musician knew better. Bags had assigned him over this mission particularly for his ruthlessness. If there was anyone who could whip CP4 into shape, it was Calypso Blue.

"Which is why making the Queen one of mine would neutralize her, yes?" he pointed out, smirking as he continued to play on one of the drums. "It's a lot easier to slip a knife between someone's ribs when you've got her in your arms, mon."

"Hmm, well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You've been flirting with her from the beginning, like it's your job…"

"Hard to resist," Calypso interjected with a grin.

"But why wait until the last minute to try to, as you say, make her one of yours?" Bags asked.

"I don't go after women that don't deserve to be played," Calypso said, shrugging. "Even I'm not that heartless. Any woman I get close to must be dispensable."

"Are you implying she is no longer a good woman?"

"Oh, she's got a lover, mon," he said. "She's pretended moral superiority all this time, but I saw her meet up with him on her balcony just this morning."

"Wait, you don't mean Paris, do you? The one you challenged to a duel like it's your job?" Bags asked.

"That's the one, mon," Calypso said, confidently tapping away on his drum.

"Paris du Priam?" Bags repeated in disbelief.

"Yup."

"Paris du Priam. The Head of Palace Security who's been pretending to be one of her suitors so he could gather information on all of you, Paris du Priam?" Bags said flatly, one eyebrow lifted in disbelief. "Helena's undercover agent who would have every reason to meet with her in private so as not to blow his cover, Paris du Priam? THAT Paris du Priam?"

Calypso's jolly drum beats slowed. "Uh…"

"You nitwit!" Bags exclaimed.

"For the record," Calypso said, tenting his fingers pensively in front of him, "You never told me he was the Head of her Security."

"I didn't think I had to!" Bags cried, throwing his fat hands in the air. "It was OBVIOUS! You were there for almost two years, and you didn't notice him taking pictures of everyone?!"

"Hey, she admitted he was her lover, mon!" Calypso defended.

"Of course she did!" Bags spat. "She wouldn't want to blow his cover. Not to mention we now have it on good authority that she's been hiding…!"

He stopped short as a herd of bulls came charging through the already vacant side street. Most of the festival goers had left to watch the performance at the docks, so the bulls continued almost entirely unimpeded to the end of the street, where stood a stack of barrels marked with the royal seal. The soldiers set to guard the barrels could do nothing but leap aside as the herd trampled the wine into a muddy, splintered, undrinkable mess.

"Uh, is it just me, or was there a rabbit riding one of those cows…?" Calypso spluttered, wide-eyed.

"Drat it all! Was there?" Bags cursed under his breath.

"He was holding a twig like a spear, mon," Calypso said.

"That means these are Captain Circe's…!"

The cows and their rabbity leader suddenly let off a warm golden light. In a matter of seconds, hooves branched out into feet and hands, snouts shrank into noses, moos turned to shouts. The bovine army turned back into a regular army.

The men got off of their hands and knees, slapping each other on the back and laughing.

"Huzzah!"

"We're back!"

"Phew! I thought that woman was going to turn us into beef steak!"

"Uh, General…?"

The last comment came from an average sized soldier, who currently shook beneath the enormous bulk of the infamous General Hector de Andromache. The massive man let out a big-hearted laugh, dismounting from the poor young soldier's shoulders before he collapsed.

"Alright men!" the General cried, tossing the twig aside and raising a real spear this time. "We've still got the rest of Mycanae to clear! Spread out, spread the word! The Palace wine is off limits!"

"Hmm, it would appear Regent's plan is already going awry," Bags murmured.

"Your orders, mon?" Calypso asked under his breath.

"Do nothing for now," he replied. "I need to get in touch with the Vice Admiral. If Circe's been defeated, chances are King Cygnus has escaped, and they'll need to call off the assassination. Taking down the Kingdom requires a coordinated attack or we'll have the god powers to worry about."

"Think he'll listen to you?" Calypso asked dubiously.

Bags sighed. "I have to try. In the meantime, do nothing until I've contacted you. Got that?"

Calypso saluted jauntily. "Like it's my job, mon."