The Spark by H. G. Howell Page B

chair made with the softest purple velvet cushions a man could ever ask for. Dalar let himself be consumed by the luxurious comfort. Edwin sat in a matching chair to Dalar’s right. The room was aglow with a soft orange light that came from a small little fire that burned in the bowels of an ornate hearth. Between the chairs sat a lonely end table, which stood roughly three feet in height. Atop it sat a bottle of hard Di Delgan rum, the best known to Wynne.
    Edwin handed a small, crystal glass to Dalar and poured them both a drink.
    “I suppose it would be best to tell you of the urgency.” Edwin stated absently, as they each held their drink, lost in thoughts to the embers across the room. Dalar took a small sip of his rum, and motioned for Edwin to continue. “You know of the troubles Valvius faces?”
    “Aye,” Dalar said, suspecting his urgent summons was somehow related. “I know of the troubles, but not the extent. We don’t hear much in Le Clos Noire about the greater world.”
    “I know, I know.” Edwin sighed. “I won’t bore you with the details, but things have gone from troublesome, to out right dangerous my dear Dalar. And it is only getting worse.” The older man took a mouthful of his drink, never removing his gaze from the low burning fire.
    “I had no idea it was so bad.” Dalar said after a minute.
    “That is only the beginning. Right now we don’t know what is truth and what is rumour. The reports that come in are as varied and inconsistent as they can be. The only thing that stays the same in all the tales is either loss of life, destruction of property, or women being stolen from their homes. And recently,” Edwin hesitated, and distracted himself with another mouthful of rum.
    “And what Edwin?”
    “You are familiar with the Margoux family?” Dalar indicated it was so. “Well, over a fortnight ago Katherine Margoux went missing in Malefosse.”
    “Katherine? What was she doing in Malefosse?” Dalar asked. The heir to the Margoux family estate had long been a close confidant, and friend, for Dalar. He had shared many of his deepest secrets with the lady Katherine as children. Perhaps more distressing than the loss of a close friend was the woes inherent in her disappearance, for the Margoux estate funded a good portion of Valvian industry.
    “Oh you know her, trying to save the impoverished.” Edwin took another mouthful of his drink, finishing off the glass. “But that’s not all. Her cousin, Lucian, has taken it upon himself to go against the grand council and is creating search and rescue teams to set forth into the wilds of Wynne to find our missing women. I do not doubt he hopes to uproot the people behind the troubles we Valvians have been facing these long months aswell.”
    “That is either very bold or very foolish of the representative.” Dalar stated, taking a deep pull of his own drink. “Probably more akin to outright stupid. This is why the Chancellor should have sent a scholar to the grand council, not a soldier.”
    “I agree Dalar, but the Chancellor is supporting this, and the purposed plan in how it will operate.”
    “Can you tell me what this plan is, Edwin, or is it not for any ears other than yours?” Dalar leaned towards his old friend.
    “The plan, as I mentioned, involves several search and rescue units.” Edwin looked at Dalar with sad, grey eyes. “ They will operate independently and off the record. The Chancellor and Lucian both agree secrecy is paramount with this operation. Lucian fears there maybe agents working within the council for this supposed, oh what did he call it?” Edwin paused, thinking quietly to himself. “Ah yes, this so called Imperial Order of Wynne.”
    “That is a bold accusation.” Dalar sighed. The soft crackling of the fire mingled with the slow ticking of a nearby clock. Dalar watched the low flames, distraught over what was happening to his beloved Wynne.
    “Dalar, there is more.” Edwin said, as he, too,