Chapter 70: Trouble Part 1

Jorges waited for her in the mess. He held a cup of tea, but his tight posture betrayed his tension.
Cal fetched herself a cup, then sat down across from him.
"You learn anything from your punishment duty?" She gave him a stern look.
"Yes Ma'am." Jorges hung his head and twisted the still full cup in his hand. "I found a tea room. Can't get drunk on tea, Ma'am, and the people don't laugh at me, much."
"Never mind, it's better than them beating on you." Cal picked up the cup as Jorges whispered.
"Leave in fifteen minutes. Dress like a sailor. I'll find you."
Cal rinsed the mugs out and left them to dry. In her cabin, she opened a drawer she didn't use much these days. The outfit Pentam had given her, a couple of years back now would do nicely. It still was stained and greasy. She put it on quickly and topped it off with her cap. A swipe of her fingers and her face became black smudged.
Out on deck, Paul stood with a list checking out the crew headed for shore.
"You're late, Sailor." He frowned at her. "I've half a mind to hold you back." Then he waved his hand as if she'd said something. "Oh get on, but don't come back drunk."
Cal hid a smile as she walked down the gangway. Paul hoisted it up behind her. Jorges hadn't said what direction to walk, so she headed toward the tavern the crew went to.
"Heh, I'm tired of the same old thing." Jorges came out of an alley adjusting his pants. "I found this place, the girls are friendly."
Cal shrugged and Jorges led her up past the tavern, through an alley to another street, this one with fewer foreigners on it. She looked closely at the people. Just like at a market on the continent, there were all kinds of outfits from pragmatic to extravagant. The people themselves looked different enough to have come from different countries. She didn't know much about the Dynasty, but she'd heard it was the union of many tribes. Some were as dark as Bundo, while a few had almost white hair and blue eyes. The right clothing, the right knowledge, and an Anglian would be able to move about freely.
Jorges nodded to their right and they walked into a tea room. Cal had expected something dainty and bright, but this place looked as rough as the tavern. Men and women sat or knelt at low tables, some talking animatedly, others alone staring into their cups as if the world's wisdom would be found there.
In one corner, his hair long and straggly, a rough beard holding the remains of supper, sat a man Cal recognized. His blue eyes widened and he started to stand. Cal sat on one side, Jorges on the other.
"I believe I've met your cousin, Bri." Cal spoke quietly, but not in a whisper. Bri slumped back, then shrugged and grinned.
"Bit of a stuffed shirt that one, always looking to avoid risk. Should have been an accountant."
One of the girls came over and bowed. Jorges said something in a halting manner which made the girl's face turn a little pink, but she bowed again and left.
Bri examined Jorges, then Cal.
"I'm guessing you're not here for the tea."
"You can't imagine how tired I am of the tea in the ship's galley." Cal looked over at where the girl loaded a tray with a teapot and tiny handleless cups.
She came back to serve them, giggling a bit at Jorges.
"I'll have to remember that one," Bri picked up a cup and tasted. He sighed. "I could never order this and get away with it." Cal and Jorges followed suit. The tea, which was coloured a pale, golden green, was of superb quality. A fresh, delicate aroma rose gently from the teacup into her nose as Cal took a sip.
"Let's cut out the chit-chat," Bri's voice grew sharp even as his face stayed amiable.
"I'm not interested in what you are doing." Cal swirled the tea like brandy. "Don't expect you'd share your countries secrets any more than I'd share mine."
Bri nodded and relaxed a bit more.
"What I would like is your professional opinion of Lord Sifton."
"He's a cad and would slit your throat if he thought it would profit him. Guess he had to use his own name to hire you so he could play scientist. Watch your back around him. He is probably after the same thing as I am, and half-dozen other agents. Rumour has it one of the Dynasty scientists has tamed lightning and can make it on demand. Not sure what use it would be, some kind of machine is the scuttlebutt. All the attention has got Dynasty security nervous. More than one person has shown up dead in a trash heap. At least one of Sifton's men took a dagger to the heart. Told me before he died, they'd seen the thing and even got a sketch. Had nothing on him, or I'd be long gone. My guess is Sifton is holed up waiting for the heat to die down or focus on someone else."
"Sounds like him; he knows his goods, but has no heart to temper him." Cal drank more tea, then refilled her cup. "If it isn't giving up state secrets, what is it like living in your home?"
"It's home." Bri absently filled his cup and slopped tea on the table. "Mountains stretch to the sky, valleys as green as emeralds. The cities are old as the hills but filled with gardens and the sound of children laughing."