Putting down the lamp, Ivan beckoned her to sit. Then he poured two glasses of wine. He handed her one.
He raised his glass. "To the successful completion of your sanctions," he toasted. Holding his glass high, he waited for her to drink.
"After you," she said sternly. "I insist."
Ivan smiled. "Bring you all the way here, just to poison you?" he asked. "My, but you are skeptical."
"I'm also still alive."
Smiling again, Ivan took a deep gulp. Finally, Satine followed his lead. To her surprise, the wine was quite good.
"And now to address your questions," Ivan said. Taking a deep breath, he sat back in his chair and rolled his glass back and forth between his hands.
"This room is indeed a sanctuary of sorts," he began. "It is a place where we of the brotherhood loyal to Wulfgar might hide and transfer messages of importance to one another. There is a great deal going on in Eutracia that the wizards of the Redoubt know nothing of." He took another sip of wine.
"There are dozens of these underground sanctuaries scattered across the land," he went on. "Some are in cities, and some are not. They were built more than three centuries ago, during the Sorceresses' War, by slave labor controlled by the Coven of Sorceresses. It is even said that Failee-Wigg's late wife and First Mistress of the Coven-once held a strategic meeting here in this very room, when her forces were close to taking Tammerland.
"We mean to give the wizards yet another war. This time it shall be one that they cannot hide from behind the walls of the palace. The wizards of the Redoubt believe that all of their once-loyal consuls have fled to the Citadel. They couldn't be more wrong."
Satine put down her wine glass and leaned over the table. "Thanks so much for the history lesson," she said. "But I don't give a tinker's damn about your politics. Or who controls the craft, either. All I want is to complete my sanctions and collect my money."
"Understandable," Ivan answered, "given the fact that you possess no endowed blood. If you did, and if you had then been trained in the glory of the Vagaries, such things would mean far more to you."
"So what is this sanctuary to me?"
"Your assignments will most probably take you far afield. In addition, you may eventually be sought by the prince's forces. During that time, you may be forced to go to ground." He removed a folded piece of parchment from his trousers and handed it to her.
"What's this?" she asked.
"It's a list of both the rural and urban locations of all the other sanctuaries," Ivan said. He took another sip. "Carry it with you at all times. The list is too long to commit to memory. If you are about to be killed or captured, you must do your best to destroy it."
Satine shoved the list into her right boot without looking at it.
"We have also devised a method by which you will know whether a message awaits you, without your having to go inside. Do you remember the 'open' and 'closed' sign that you turned around just a little while ago?"
"Of course," she answered, her curiosity rising.
"Each establishment has two such signs. One printed in red, and one in black. If the sign in red is hanging in the window, then a message awaits you inside. If the sign is in black, then there is no message. Do you understand?"
Satine nodded. "But what about the rural sanctuaries?" she asked. "Surely they aren't shops as well, sitting out in the middle of nowhere?"
"Of course not," Ivan answered. "In most cases they are simple peasants' cottages. If there is a wreath of wildflowers pinned to the front door, there is a message for you inside. A bare door means no message."
"Very well," Satine said. "But I made it very clear to Wulfgar and Serena that I work alone. So what kinds of messages might I need to receive?"
"Information regarding the movements of your various targets," Ivan said. He smiled conspiratorially. "We have someone inside, one who is in a position to know such information and relay it to us."
Looking thoughtfully into her glass, Satine took another sip of wine. She looked back over at Ivan. Before she could speak, he handed her another parchment.
"Your first such message," he said quietly. "I suggest you read it now."
After reading it, she looked back into his eyes. His wicked smile had returned.
"As you can see, we suggest you start out small, so to speak," he said.
For the first time since Satine had come to Tammerland, she smiled, too. "I understand," she said. "But won't this make it more difficult to deal with the other targets later?" she asked. "The ones I am truly being paid for?"
Ivan sat back in his chair and sighed. "Perhaps," he said. "That concerns many of us on this side of the Sea of Whispers. Even so, this is how Wulfgar has ordered it. He wants them all dead, of course. But he wants some to suffer first as they helplessly watch their friends perish." He paused.
"We shall need a code name for you," he finally said. "These will be political killings, and the prince and his wizards have a long reach. Surely you will wish to protect your identity as much as possible."
Thinking it over, Satine had to agree. "Very well," she answered. "Use the code name 'Gray Fox'."
A brief smile came to Ivan's lips. Looking at the color of her cloak, he understood.
"Then 'Gray Fox' it shall be," he said. "Except for me and Bratach, the other consuls shall know you by only that name."
A thought suddenly revisited Satine. "What about the orb?" she asked.
"What of it?"
"Bratach explained to me what is happening. Does that have anything to do with why I am here?"
Ivan leaned toward her. "It has everything to do with it," he answered. "But for our safety and your own you are to know little more of it than that, unless such information impacts your mission. Succeed in your task, and all will go according to plan." He began rolling the wine glass between his hands again as he thought for a moment.
"The wonderful byproduct of the rupture in the orb is the fact that so many wounded are rushing into Tammerland," he continued. "One of the greatest tenets of the craft states that chaos is the overriding principle of the universe. The wizards of the Redoubt are now suffering more chaos than they can effectively deal with. And it will only worsen as time goes by.
"At first, our master thought he had completely failed in his attempt to pollute the Orb of the Vigors," he said. "But when we discovered that the orb had ruptured, we immediately sent word to him. Now things have changed. While it was once our mission to destroy the orb, we must now see to it that it isn't interfered with in any way. Ironic, wouldn't you agree?"
Satine had suddenly had quite enough talk of wizards, magic, and orbs. She wanted to be gone from this suffocating place, and begin her sanctions. There were still two places she needed to go first, and she wouldn't get there by sitting here talking politics with some fat consul in a bleak cellar. After taking a final sip of wine, she stood up.
"Is there anything else?" she asked.
Ivan pointed to the closed door on the other side of the room. "Exit by that passageway," he answered. "It will bring you up into an alley several blocks from here. You will have to circle back around to collect your horse. Each sanctuary has a secret tunnel out." The smile came again. "A fact you would do well to remember."
Satine walked to the door and pried it open. A curving, brick-lined tunnel led upward. It was lit with oil sconces. She started to leave, then stopped and turned back to Ivan.
"Thank you," she said softly.
"Just do your job properly, woman," he answered back. "That's all the thanks we of the Vagaries require of you."
Turning back to face the tunnel, Satine walked in and closed the door behind her.