She was born Princess Gwenwyn Helena Anannet Egger, first-born child of the Great King Heralf, ruler of the Militant Kingdom of Rramnon. Shortly after her sixteenth birthday, Gwenwyn's father sent her to the Trade Kingdom, Terrafeuw, with a very spe...
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Chapter 20: The Rat
Creatin was good at his job. Every member of Three, had some degree of intelligence gathering skills, but Creatin, his latest intel proved that he out shined his fellow guards.
His talents were purely his own. His father knew things, knew secret and traitorous things. Creatin knew such things as well, none of which his father deemed shareable to his second son.
It was what most of the Royal guard was made of, second sons, third sons, and so on. Men deemed inadequate heirs merely due to the order of their birth. Spare sons, whose sole purpose was to be watch dogs for the kingdom.
Only a few of the Royal guards were actually worth anything.
Creatin could count them on one hand.
He wasn't pompous or vain about his aptitude, merely certain.
He was also certain that he was annoyed.
The thing annoying him at this particular moment, was that for the first time in his life, Creatin felt torn. He knew that this newest bout of information was accurate, of that he had no doubt, but he wasn't sure how to best to use it.
There were several ears, that would benefit from one of his reports. Creatin knew that with this information he could currently determine the tides of the coming war.
Though still far in the distance, war was certain. Rramnon had wanted it so badly for so long that a lovely young casualty had been sent into "enemy territory."
The plan hasn't gone as expected, King Gregory's appetite had gotten their the way, and thrown them for a loop. It had taken those in charge of the puppet strings, several days to get things back in order.
Creatin gleamed and the prospects of his usefulness in the days to come.
But the question remained.
How could he use his newest intelligence to benefit him the most?
Did he want the instant gratification or did he want to play a longer game. Each scenario had high probability of success with minimal calculated disadvantages.
That was where Creatin found himself.
Pondering between choice 1 and choice 2.
He usually prouded himself on staying in the shadows, the proverbial grey zone, outside of full blame from either accused side, unless of course he was blackmailing someone but that was irrelevant at the moment.
The coming war offered a plethora of grey zones, and blackmail. He knew, that he could play both sides easily until he could ride on the coat tails of either determined victor.
It seemed logical enough, and it followed pattern with what Creatin would typically do when presented with two ways of utilizing information.
And yet. Creatin had this annoying nagging in the back of his head.
He just need to decided, either option 1 or opinion 2.
So why did he keep thinking about a third option?
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