"Admiral, Sir! There's someone at the door to see you."

  The Natab still looked a little pale but his manners and garb were impeccable. One would never have thought that he had been vomiting his morning meal mere instants before. Well, impeccable to the exception that someone wasn't an acceptable identification to be called in the admiral's grand cabin on the flag ship of the Balà fleet as it lay anchored on the shallows near the central part of the Descot Sea. Even if it was, all things considered, a much reduced fleet given the fact that it had been divided four fold. One part was sailing the Etanakarak towards Evening Island, one was patrolling the Graves from the Patiline peaks to the Cape of Woe, protecting Mahara?a from unwanted visitors; the third one was creeping up the Isle of Forts and the Wide Sea, and finally. The last bit of it was trying to remain inconspicuous, sitting where it was right in the Triadic Sea at the crossing of the shipping lanes coming and going from the Holy Archipelago of the Triad to Mainland Limore, Ziom and Kalish. The seasonal fogs helped of course but there always were the Sunrise winds to blow them off and stir the ship enough to make the land born Natabs on board seasick.

  "Who is it?" the second to the Admiral asked in an over articulated attempt at sounding both patronizing and commanding.

  "Won't say it's name, Sir. For the admiral's ears only. Says its pressing matter. Just came on board from that fishing ship we trade with some mornings. Sir"

  Atacherel's soft deep voice came from the dark end of the large cabin, "Let her in and leave us Avani. I'll call for you once we are done."

  The middle aged man did all he could not to appear vexed at being dismissed like so in front of the young Natab, but as he left the room, he allowed in a woman in her fifties, dressed for all intent and purposes like a fisherman. She even gave off the faint smell of fresh fish and algae.

  "You are from the Islands?"

  "Yes, sir. I am."

  "What is the white?" He asked sternly, looking at her with a scowl on his face. With these intelligence people there was always the possibility of betrayal, of double entendre and foul play.

  "The smallest of the three colors."

  "And?"

  "And the loneliest."

  "Why is that?"

  "Because none that has ever been called there ever returned."

  "But?"

  "But the White is a blessing on the two others."

  Atacherel finally relaxed, reassured that the woman in front of him was at least a Balà of the Sillaribes.

  "What are the news?"

  "It is still in that temple. We have been unable to reach it." She said in a sigh.

  "Damn it! How long have we had agents in their inner sanctum! And still we cannot do anything to stop them from healing the Wanderer and keeping him alive?"

  "It's getting weaker. They added six more healers, of the best they still have and the feeders are now almost forty, changed on rotation every day at sunrise and sundown. We managed to place a couple of our own in the Feed but they were not enough to disrupt the Heal and were quickly replaced." The woman volunteered, "there is good news though, sir."

  Atacherel sat down and pointed at a chair so that the woman would sit too.

  "I'm listening."

  "One of us has finally been appointed to the Council of Eight."

  The surprise showed in the bearded old man's eyes. "I am impressed indeed. Which one was it?" he began asking before changing his mind and adding, "no, don't tell me. This information must not be passed out of the Islands. We must do all we can, not to endanger this agent's position for it is too valuable."

  She nodded silently and asked, "what about the children? Do we have a lead?"

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  This was a topic that always left a sour taste in Atacherel's mouth, he pulled a face but answered nonetheless, "The ones from Iti have been brought to Her and she dismissed them, the ones from Utesh couldn't be removed safely and had to be dealt with, yet she did not feel the reverberation of the event, they were innocents." He sighed but went on, "We are still waiting on news from Niurb and Kriebar and of course there is the matter in Sekk."

  That city, the sheer evocation of which was always painful to Balà minds. Since the events of the destruction of the Balà quarter by its inhabitants, it was an open wound on their common consciousness. Killing young ones in the streets of Sekk was like catching the madness that had turned their neighbors onto them.

  "The children are of one of the Celerin family, highly protected and fiercely guarded. They are never outside and the family is of fervent traditional stock, even their servants are Celerins. Our agents have not been able to get close at all." Atacherel finished speaking and reached for a cup that he drank silently. The woman took stock of what had been said and shifted in her seat before telling him:

  "I have more. The Council has dispatched three master monks to odd places, one is clearly punishment for refusing to obey the Council, the other two could be bringing children back."

  "Where to?" He asked leaning forward to grab a stylus and a waxed board.

  "The first one went to Gerin on the Hard Sea, a little fishing community a day's ride from the town. They don't trade much and pretty much keep to themselves, so no-one talked about the three identical kids that got born on the right day eleven years ago. The second went to Cordi."

  "Where is that?" He asked as he kept jotting down the information.

  "High in the mountains of Lower Limore, In a small valley shut off from the world half of the time." She finished with a smile on her lips as if the evocation of the place pleased her for some reason.

  "They keep finding them in more and more isolated places." Atacherel grumbled as he traced a line under the words Lower Limore.

  "Well, after eleven years of searching these are the only places left, don't you think?" She asked conversationally, she had probably had the very same argument with her colleagues back on the Islands.

  "I guess so, I had been hoping that them monks would have been more efficient and have found them already. I would do anything to trade this protracted game with a full on assault of one of their islands with the full force of the fleet if it meant ending this nasty pursuit." He stood up tossing the waxed board and the stylus on the table. There was nothing to say to this, so she remained silent for a couple heart beats and finally said:

  "They are sending another expedition to the Ignaien Mountains. Fifty monks and some guards against bandits and wild animals, trains of mules, some sappers they meant to excavate Nag."

  "Are they taking the road through Sekk and Cereb?"

  "No, Akar first and then to Itab. Then the Gersian hill country. Finally the piedmont, before ascending the trail of the Lords of Barag all the way to the summit."

  "Is there still time for us to cut them off in the Ironglass Sea and sink them before they reach Akar's harbor?"

  "No, they must have landed yesterday if the winds were with them or will tomorrow if they were against."

  "Then it's up to the Natabs to deal with that. What was it about that third master sent away?" The admiral suddenly asked, taking her by surprise, which was a feeling she did not like.

  "What? Oh, you mean Limero? He is a sweet guy, so far as monks can be. He was sent to some muddy Tall House Lord's place in Mainland Limore." She blurted out trying to recover her poise.

  "No children there?"

  "I checked,'" she said with a faint smile, "The Keregan's only have one son and no triple births have ever been reported in their March. We dispatched one of their neighbors' who had had a child born on the right date, that was almost ten years ago I think. We were not as subtle then. It was the family that used to be in charge of protecting the pilgrim's road from Salit to Rek from bandits. But no, nothing of interest. I think he rattled the establishment a little too much, that Limero guy, and was sent away to clear the position he could have been entitled for at the Council." She finished punctuating her sentence with a flourish of her hand dismissing the whole matter as a trifle.

  "Is that how our guy was able to get in?" Atacherel had remained focused and was beginning to find that woman irritating.

  "Sort of. Not entirely though, it was much more complicated than that but I'll spare you the details for now, if you don't mind." She replied arrogantly.

  "Right," he said trying to remain calm, "has a message been sent about the expedition to Nag?"

  "Yes it has, through the usual channel. It always finds its way to them on time, don't worry about it, they are out of your reach now anyway and you have more pressing things to do admiral, sir." She said clearly showing that she knew she was getting on his nerves but still had the upper hand.

  "Like what?" He grumbled sourly

  "Your presence here has finally been noticed. We have done all we could to silence the rumors of large Balà ships anchored on the banks but the story is finally spreading and the Celerins of Gegara are readying some ships to come and investigate." She was smiling, and this infuriated him but she had now given him what he needed to dismiss her.

  "Then we must leave. You should return to your skiff immediately and hope to hear from us as soon as it is possible again." He strode to the door and flung it open making the Natab guard jump in surprise.

  "I bid you farewell sir." She said suavely but the mariner thought he saw uncertainty glimmer in her eye. It was something to play the spying game with a fleet of warships at hand to protect oneself. It was a completely different matter to do it without any hope of escape would one be unlucky enough to be found out.

  "May the One look upon you with a kind eye." He offered as a parting blessing.

  "And upon you, sir." She replied genuinely.