An Unexpected Delivery [Eitan]

[Stefan Dornkirk]

1st Ash, 123

A package had been delivered to the offices of Minister Dornkirk by a member of The Railrunners coven early that morning. As with all Stefan's mail it had been investigated for aether signatures as well as danger by an Order Sembler before it had been given over to the care of the Minister's secretary, and in turn, to his manservant. It was a middling size box, wrapped in brown paper and tied in string very respectably. It's arrival, via a coven witch, was not considered unusual at the time for, outside of sending a military messenger, the Railrunners were the only reliable way to send or receive almost anything within the borders.

It was not marked with any of the symbols that would have indicated it was either important or time sensitive so it was left with the other incoming mail for the better part of the day before it was brought into the Minister's office and placed on his desk. As it was the only package in a pile of what were otherwise letters, Stefan picked it up first.

Opening it he found a slim but wide leather box of the sort that might be used for jewelry, as well as an enveloped letter. The letter simply had "To The New Zaichaer Government" by way of address and neither had anything to indicate from whom they had been sent. Pulling the leather box out first Stefan lifted the lid on its hinge and went very still when he saw what it contained. After a long moment of staring he said, trying to keep his tone neutral,

"Deinerin?" Then, when his manservant inevitably appeared almost immediately, "Could you please send for Ei... High Sentinel, Admiral Angevin? Urgently."

The man gave his usual curt nod and then slipped out without asking any questions. An excellent man, Deinerin; Stefan fully believed that Zaichaer wouldn't have survived without him.

[Eitan Angevin]

It just so happened that Eitan was working in the same building as Stefan that day. While he was used to working out of multiple offices, it was important for people to know where to go to run something up the chain of command. Luckily, his and his brother-in-law's families remained in cohabitation, so, in general, they let each other know where they would be working on any given day.

Eitan also had multiple assistants anymore, from secretaries and logisticians to his personal watchdog - Watcher Lessnau - to his own Dienerin, who now had security clearance higher than he had owned when in military service. Everyone knew that the Dienerins were not to be kept from two of the three heads of state, and even Lang's people had learned to accept them as trusted messengers from Dornkirk and Angevin.

While a newly minted Seeker and Captain when disaster had struck, he had risen quickly through the ranks even as the ranks were thinned, but if he had learned anything, it was to telegraph a stoic, confident mien as so many of the men and women working toward the greater good looked to him as a bellwether for the state of the State. And so now he was a past master at hurrying without seeming to hurry.

Stefan's man kept pace with him, as did, predictably, Watcher Lessnau, then let him into Stefan's office and closed the door behind him. Eitan didn't stop, but strode up to his brother-in-law's desk. As they had the room, he placed his hand on the man's strong arm, sensing his agitation.

"I'm here," he said quietly, supportive as ever. He squeezed, and then his hand came up to squeeze at the tension in Stefan's neck. He didn't pressure him for an update, knowing it would come quickly in any case now that he was here. Catastrophe was old hats to them, so his heartbeat wasn't even elevated.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Stefan had opened the letter in the intervening minutes from the time he'd sent for Eitan and the man's arrival, but he hadn't sat down. It wasn't the sort of thing one sat down for. When his high-ranking brother-in-law arrived and the door was distinctly, if quietly, shut between them and the rest of the world he was in the middle of his third read-through and didn't look up. This was not a sign of disrespect, rather one of trust.

Not knowing how to broach the topic he allowed it to be presented to Eitan as it had been to him, by passing over the leather box. Inside were several Zaichaeri military medals, the rank insignia of General and a nameplate, all of which were smeared in blood. The plate bore the name Overmann and if one had studied the man they would know that the medals were his also. Written on the inside of the lid of the box, written in presumably in the same blood, was the word 'TRAITOR'.

Stefan waited a few moments to give time to absorb the implications, even though Eitan, being much more a man of war than Stefan himself was, likely caught the meaning instantly. When the Admiral looked up at him for more he handed over the letter. It was not, thankfully, also written in blood. It read;

General Overmann, calling himself the leader of the Zaichaeri Government in Exile, was found to be conspiring with the government of Kathiid, as well as several other foreign powers, to invade Zaichaer with a force large enough to subdue the officials and officers that have been working since the fall of the previous government to ensure the survival of our people and our State. By allowing foreign troops to cross our borders, and by the concessions he was offering those who would support him, the General proved himself a traitor to his nation. He has been dealt with. Proof of his betrayal will be found along with this letter.

Hail Zaichaer

It was signed "Loyal Citizens" but bore no further indication of who had sent it. The 'proof' that had been enveloped with the letter were several other letters, signed by General Overmann, promising favorable trade deals, the right to set up military installments, as well as payment in coin and land for the assistance he was requesting to several foreign governments. The letters seemed to have been copied with only minor details and the names of those being addressed different between them. The signature was in a different hand than the bodies of the letters but that was not unusual for a General. They would have to have the signatures authenticated but there were probably those within the building around them who could do so.

When Eitan had read through all that the package had contained the First Minister stepped to the sideboard and poured himself a double portion of bourbon. Bringing the one glass back over to his desk he drank away half and then handed the remainder to his companion.

[Eitan Angevin]

Without further speech, Eitan took the box and investigated. Brows rose like raven wings taking flight, but he did not otherwise comment. If his search was more thorough, his hands and eyes more practiced, it was his training at work, as well as his rearing as a political animal. There were dates upon the letters, but he hadn't heard tell of this from his sources in Kathiid. Timing would be imperative.

All the same, he paused to share the stiff drink.

The burn down his throat steadied him.

"You don't have an official press secretary yet," he began, "but you will need to get an official statement out. Acknowledge what he accomplished before his betrayal, which makes his betrayal all the sharper. Distance yourself from vigilantism, but underline that a right and proper court of law or military tribunal would have found him guilty based upon the evidence presented and that the punishment would have been capital."

The High Sentinel paused, unreadable eyes reading the First Minister.

"Stef..." Eitan softened around the edges, becoming more human and less office. "Stef... look at me." Stefan Dornkirk a strong man, but also a quietly sensitive one. "Expediency aside, well, no... This is politically expedient. The one great barrier between all those Zaichaeri citizens and their home is now out of the way. A traitor escaped justice, but paid for his crimes. A man is dead and that is a shame, but now, if we act quickly, Zaichaer can be whole again. Families can be reunited. It'll all be safer for Delia and Amy, for Luca and Brynn..."

He considered taking the box, but whoever did act as press secretary would need all the details. He could relay them to Lang himself, and then their triumvirate would be equally informed, and both Order and Military would be prepared to support their Civilian leadership as a united front.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Eitan's mind, as was typical in all matters not mechanical, worked faster than Stefan's did. It even took the Minister a moment to process what his brother-in-law was saying. When he began to do so he gave a slow nod, reaching toward his desk as though to take notes but not actually doing so.

Though he had sent messages to General Overmann, overtures to the tune of reconnecting and forming back into a single unit, they had gone all but unanswered. The answers he had gotten had been a sort of 'stand by and await instructions' that hadn't at all been in line with the reality of the situation unfolding in Zaichaer itself. Waiting for instructions from a group that did not understand what was happening inside the borders had been worse than useless and, though it had worried him, Stefan had ignored the missives.

If what was in the letter from these 'Loyal Citizens' was true then what he'd been sent would make sense. He hated to believe it but if General Overmann and his officers had been planning what amounted to an invasion then they would have wanted to give away as little information as possible while garnering what they could. It was common knowledge among all those who had been vying for position since the fall that any number, perhaps all, of the Generals who had been part of the struggle would have been willing to commit troops to taking the Grand Marshal's title by force if they had thought they had enough men to succeed. But factions struggles within Zaichaer were not the same thing as inviting foreign powers to invade. Coups were only treason if they failed, as the old saying went. The fact that it was a common saying in Zaichaer probably said things about the previous government structure that should have been addressed before. Well, they had been addressed now, and, with hard work, there would be no need for anymore coups from inside or outside for a very long time.

When Eitan said his name, touched him, his swirling mind began to settle, as did he.

"Yes. You're right, of course. I don't know why this is effecting me like this, I didn't know the man and he certainly did no good for Zaichaer when he could have." Maybe it was because it was a good thing, sudden and unexpected as only bad things had been for so long that had throw him for a loop.

"Should I put people on authenticating this while Deinerin writes up a statement or should you do it?" Stefan thought about this for a moment and then changed tack, "Actually, maybe we should let Lang release the statement? Overmann was part of the Military branch, technically, and Military justice should come from the High Marshal. It would give him a victory, sort of, as first statement to the nation as one of their leaders."

It was a statement but he was still looking to Eitan for confirmation or denial. Everyone knew Dornkirk and Angevin by then, their characters and how they reacted to crises, but Lang was, for all non-military citizens at least, an unknown quantity, which, Stefan knew, many imagined would attempt to fully take over as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

[Eitan Angevin]

Eitan's smile when Stefan met his gaze was fully of fraternal affection. He patted him on the arm.

"A good idea," he said. "We both ought to put some resources into verifying, but we ought to let Lang know and relay what our people find. If both civilian and Order investigations corroborate whatever his come up with, he will see that we are aligned and he will appreciate being allowed to be the one taking visible action."

Kill him with kindness, Eitan thought. And, of course, he would ensure that on some level, a seed of suspicion would be planted that Lang had somehow maneuvered the assassination for his own rise to power, a useful key should they need to neutralize him. Between the two of them, they could lead the triumvirate, but, of course, it was going to be a dance. They didn't want an actual military coup.

"But you should have a statement prepared to follow his. Nobody expects the Order to opine, but I can be present to nod approvingly if necessary. The people need to see that they have a government that is united and working together toward their benefit and future."

There were statements that they made publicly, although those would be more cumbersome now that the population had boomed with the influx of people now that Zaichaer was "safe." It had been easy at the Windworks; Dornkirk and Angevin, wives, babes in arms. They would have to include Lang in the tableau from now on, which would shift things, but Eitan was certain he could spin that. Their families were young, beautiful, and full of hope. The old guard general was comforting, but not inspiring.

Crumbling glory, he thought to himself.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

"Mm, mhm." It was a statement of agreement but one distracted by the High Admiral's gaze. They glanced between each other's eyes and mouths for a prolonged moment before there was a familiar, polite knock at the door. Straightening and giving his waistcoat a little tug Stefan acknowledged the knock with,

"Come."

Deinerin popped his head in,

"I wanted to check if you needed any refreshment or... anything else?" Deinerin was discreet but he knew when his master was disturbed by something.

"No refreshment, I think, it'll be lunch soon as it is. I do however have need of your other services. Come in, close the door."

When his manservant was inside he explained the situation, which garnered not even a blink of surprise from the stoic man. Pulling a small notepad from his breast pocket the man began making notes as Dornkirk and Angevin both gave orders and made suggestions. He would see that the investigation were begun, or, at least, send notes in their names instructing others to do so, and get a detailed missive off to the High Marshall. When the slim servant had excused himself to see the their instructions Stefan turned back to his brother in law. He made another of the humming sounds that indicated he was considering something seriously. Leaning back against his desk he stared into the middle distance and said,

"It isn't any of my business, I know, but I hope you've someone in mind for your Sentinel of Information. This is bringing home how much Zaichaer will need them." He considered for a long moment more before continuing,

"I'm less concerned about Overmann's specific killer than about these 'Loyal Citizens'. Even if their intentions are noble, what happens when they decide one of the Triumvirate isn't living up to their standards? I can't imagine he could have been taken out without the aid of witches, not with the Order members he had in his contingent."

[Eitan Angevin]

Eitan was glad Dienerin had so many skills. His own Dienerin wasn't a carbon-copy of Stefan's, but he was equally capable in his own bailiwicks. Once they had sent him off with notes and orders, Eitan's own to be translated to his Dienerin so his people would know they came from him. No tea, but rather lunch; well, he was here so he would lunch with his brother-in-law. Progress knew they always had plenty to discuss, whether personal or political.

"If we have a working lunch," he mused, "perhaps we can be home before supper tonight. The wives would appreciate that, I'll be bound." But his attention was captured as soon as Stefan began to speak of Order matters. He nodded slowly.

"I intend to manage that office ex officio et pro tempore for the time being. I have thoughts about certain members present in Zaichaer, but I am curious to see who has yet to return to the fold, as well. We are, as you know, rearranging quite a bit and there are a thousand and one dire priorities. I have been holding so tightly to the reins for so long that I am afraid they will have to pry my fingers loose slowly but surely." He smiled, then took on a more serious mien. If they took out Lang, then they would have to raise Jäger as a matter of course, which would leave a wake of disruption that any fluctuation in the political power structure.

A part of him wished he could put the biddable Reichart into the third seat of power, but he was more useful where he was at the moment, and that could be a long-term goal once Lang's days of service came to an end.

"I have informants in Kathiid," he admitted. "That none of them came to me with news of this before the assassins is perhaps no surprise, not if we were intended to be the audience to the crime." He paused, asked mildly, "Can you think of someone you trust more than me to investigate this matter?"

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Stefan made a face that called into question whether their working lunch would not also turn into a working dinner but there was always hope. Each day there was hope that he would be allowed to spend time with his wife, knowing that, soon, she would be, officially, as busy as he was. They were trying for another child, which he wanted, but which worried him to distraction if he allowed himself to dwell on it. That Delia would be working so hard at all, let alone in the delicate condition of expecting...

Thankfully the last year had given him amply practice in not dwelling on the things that he could do nothing about.

Stefan's brow drew down a little at the idea of Eitan being both High Sentinel and filling the role as Sentinel of Information (not even mentioning his seat as High Admiral), but it wasn't much of a surprise. Had their lives, the life of their nation, gone differently, he had always imagined that Eitan would end up in the highest role of one of the espionage branches, if not both. Their new government consolidated the military and Order information gathering into a single group. Perhaps this was foolish, as, whoever held the loyalty of that group would control what information was given out to everyone else, but it was the best solution they had to discourage competing groups of spies. Their people needed unity, not to be fighting each other.

Eitan was, truly, the best man for the job and if he was wearing many hats, so were they all, from the triumvirate all the way down to the boys who swept the streets. The question brought him back into the conversation and he stepped closer to look his brother in the eyes when he answered.

"I trust no one more." This was not conditioned, neither aloud, in his heart nor in his head. There was a pause, then,

"It was never a question of competence, only time. I think if 'I' " He made quotes in the air with his hands, "Give you any more work our dear Lucrece will stab me during dinner. As if these things were up to me."

He had been the face of a lot of the reconstruction, most of it, but, probably because of this, he didn't like being blamed for choices that others made.

"Hopefully, with Lang taking over the day to day running of most of our current military operations, it will free you to see to the things that more desperately require your talents."

The running of what was left the air navy was, pun intended, shipshape. For the moment their duties included only running supplies as well as occasionally moving people, and patrolling the skies watching for any and all dangers to Zaichaer. They were both vital to survival but could all be done on schedules worked out as much in advance as one could manage and didn't need to be micromanaged.

[Eitan Angevin]

The unconditioned and unconditional affirmation of trust made him smile with all sincerity. He would, of course, also prefer their business finish at a regular time that they might break bread with their wives daily. For a moment, he recalled that rare moment when he had fallen asleep on the settee, his young, swaddled son asleep upon his chest, their heartbeats, he imagined, falling into sync. They had gone from unending crisis to a steadily growing mountain of work, but he hoped that someday, they would bring that mountain's growth into equilibrium, delegate, carve out time for the domesticity they had earned.

But, until that day, he would work shoulder-to-shoulder with his brother-in-law, his sister, his wife, and all those proud Zaichaeri citizens who were the lifeblood of the nation.

"Lang has taken a load off my shoulders," he acknowledged, his own hands falling upon Stefan's shoulders as they took a moment to lock eyes, to take a breath. "Our birds are aloft. Reichart supplied lists of men he thought capable of quick training to the skies and now we are no longer undermanned. I now command men like Captain Merovech, who taught me how to lead. My captains are capable men and women, and my oversight at this point is minimal compared to my work on the Order.

"You have no need to fear Luca's blades." He winked. "Only her hands."

It amused him that it amused his wife to tease Stefan, a man probably twice her mass. That the First Minister of Zaichaer was afraid of his young wife provided much needed hilarity, and Stefan was a good sport. The best sport, really.

"All right, my good man." His hands clapped upon Stefan's shoulders and squeezed. "Our goal for the day is to kiss our children before they are put to bed, and then to kiss our wives until they pull us to bed. Everything else is just a task that needs compartmentalizing toward that goal. Are you ready?"

He grinned.