[Nuranar]

Everything was perfect for a stroll on the beach - the cool sea breeze winding up the streets, the morning sun warm on one’s back, the comfort of a happy stomach. But Calnan’s expressionless face showed him oblivious to the conditions. Only his eyes, darting unseeingly from one quarter to another, indicated the turmoil behind the façade as his analytical brain sorted out possibilities and probabilities.

Walking beside him was a very wound-up Devon. Calnan came to himself long enough to reflect that Devon – as much as he would deny it – wouldn’t make a bad politician. That is, if the major part of politics was public speaking. Devon’s impassioned denunciations of the perfidious and piratical Doran were by no means lacking in color. And his gleeful detailing of how a compliant Ambassador Thrann should’ve and could’ve squashed Doran & Co. was not only entertaining but unsettlingly persuasive.

“…Picture how we’d teach that blankety-blank so-and-so! Huh, to think he could get away with fooling the entire diplomatic corps of the King himself! Why, if any other scurvy drowned rat of a bleeped corsair, captain or no, ever tried such a stupid, hare-brained stunt again –”

At this point Calnan had to intervene.

“But Devon, he has.”

Devon broke off belligerently. “Has what?”

“Fooled everyone. He’s fooled them so well that your father hasn’t listened to you. That just proves –”

It was Calnan’s turn to break off as Devon shoved him roughly aside. Gearing up mentally to wax eloquent on Doran’s power, the attaché was off guard and stumbled awkwardly. “Never mind that! I don’t hear you figuring out what we need to do, Mr. Politician!” Devon spat testily, only half in jest.

After a brief glare, Calnan laughed to ease the tension. “We just need to figure out exactly what we’re up against here. Please don’t think Doran is stupid. If you heard right, and he’s been plotting for the last five years, then he has to be really smart to have kept it up this long without any suspicion.”

Still a little miffed, Devon kicked an unoffending pebble. “True.”

“So I’m still wondering…Are you absolutely certain he didn’t recognize you last night?” Devon’s head shot up angrily but Calnan wouldn’t let him interrupt. “If he did, you’re in serious danger, pal. You’re far too close to the only ones who can stop him. He didn’t get this far by crossing his fingers and hoping! You have got to be careful.”

Devon pooh-poohed carefulness. “Are you kidding? I like to live dangerously!” he boasted, striking a heroic pose.

Calnan rolled his eyes and tried again. “That’s just the attitude that’ll see you set upon by some cutthroats of his. You ought to stop being out late alone and cutting through the allies ‘cause that’s just where they’ll wait for –”

“Oh great, now you’ve turned nursemaid. I can just see you following me around: ‘Stay out of that dark alley, Devon dear, the boogieman will get you!’” he mimicked in a feminine falsetto.

“Cut it out, numbskull, I’m serious.”

“So’m I, nanny, I’ll do everything you tell me!” Devon mocked.

“Please listen to me, Devon! Just put yourself in Doran’s shoes –”

A sudden hail from ahead cut through his plea. “Come on, you two – the tide’ll have come right in by the time you catch up with me and Adeline.”

“Oh yeah?” Devon was off like a shot.

With one shake of his head, Calnan gave chase. “Yeah, keep believing it Callath!”

Scattering sand and cutting corners, Calnan stretched out his long legs and set his sights on the silver line of the shore. The joy of the moment banished care...

For a little while, at least.

[ October 27, 2003: Message edited by: Nuranar ]