Chapter

Valek sighed as he walked into the war room, where the Commander had summoned him. He saw immediately that there was some kind of meeting going on and that all the Generals were present. It must be the yearly meeting between all the Generals again. He sighed, and tugged irritably at his stiff dress uniform the Commander had ordered him to wear.

Taking a seat next to the Commander, he leaned against the back of his seat and scanned the room. No threats, which meant that his job was done for now. He would still have to listen vaguely to all the details being thrown around, but he wouldn't have to take notes like the rest of them. He had an exceptional memory.

Two hours and five glasses of brandy later, Valek was feeling bored out of his mind. General Tesso was talking about his wheat harvest and the yearly problems they had with cicadas in excrutiating detail. Even the Commander seemed slightly dazed by this.

Suddenly, the door to the war room banged open to receive two messengers. One put some official-looking papers in front of the Commander and the other brought Valek a crisp envelop containing a letter. One look at the paper and he could tell it was from his mysterious Sitian correspondent. Even though he wasn't supposed to read it during the middle of the meeting, he did anyways. No doubt they would find a solution for those cicadas without him perfectly well.

Valek quickly scanned the letter. He fought hard to restrain any sign of emotion but ended up grinning like an idiot. And he was so amused he couldn't even feel irritated by himself for that.

"Valek? Is there anything you would like to share with us?" the Commander said disapprovingly.

"No, sir." Valek immediately sobered and slid the letter into one of his numerous pockets. He pretended to listen while surreptitiously grabbing an inkwell, a quill and a piece of fresh parchment to compose his reply.

Dear Y.

I hope that your cousin hasn't found out about the wine. I myself also had a bad experience with alcohol which occured on the first day of my job, many years ago. My boss had had a toast to our business because we succeeded in our goal. I was a teenager at the time, and was not used to imbibing alcohol at all. I drank carefully, but did not know that one glass alone would do me in. Needless to say, once I was drunk, I asked for a second glass, and then another until I was barely conscious. My boss was not very pleased and today, I have learned to hold my liquor well.

As I am writing this, I am in the middle of a meeting where many kinds of brandy are passed around in liberal amounts. You have saved me from the monotony of this yearly meeting, where most of the men are considerably older than myself and dull enough to put me to sleep, which is no easy task.

V.

Valek put down his quill and closed his eyes. He would look like a fool if he sent this, but he couldn't help telling his correspondent more about himself when he, or she offered so much about his or herself. He wondered why his correspondent had revealed so much in the first place. Did they want to know him better? Was it due to a desire to soothe tensions between Ixia and Sitia? He did not know.

He sighed and crumpled his letter into a creased ball in his hand, planning to dispose of it later. There was no way he would send this. Not even if he would be able to get out of the meeting if he sent it.

The day after the meeting...

Ambrose summoned him to his office when Valek was on his way to the training yard. Sighing, he made a detour and slipped into the chair across from the Commander's desk reluctantly.

"What is it, sir?" he asked impatiently. He hadn't trained for a couple days and needed to catch up on his skills.

"You'll be travelling with me to Sitia soon. Under disguise, of course. Our ambassador feels beleaguered by the Sitian Council and has requested my prescence. Apparently, the tension between Sitia and Ixia is getting wrose." The Commander leaned back in his chair and raised his eyebrows at Valek.

"Yes, sir."

"And another thing, Valek. I found a crumpled ball of paper on the floor after the General's meeting. Scanning it over cursorily, I realised it was your letter to your correspondent and have mailed it for you. You are dismissed."

"What?" Valek stared at the Commander in barely restrained shock. "You sent it?"

"Yes, Valek, I believe that is what I've said." The Commander frowned at him. "Is there a problem?"

"No, sir." Valek hurried out of the room. Damn it! His letter with personal information was going to be read by someone, primarily a stranger. He stopped in the middle of the busy corridor, causing servants to almost trip as they manuevered around him. He swore, imagining the type of response his letter was going to get. Very well, this was going to be his last letter, and afterwards, he would cut off the correspondence forever.

Running to the training yard, he could barely wait to start fighting. He had a lot of frustration to burn off.

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