As Quato sneaked through the streets of central Saniya, he understood that truth was a dull weapon in the face of raw power. Never before had he been more aware of his own weakness, more isolated. No one was by his side, none of his ghost brothers there to support his cause.

Before the king had left, he had assigned Quato to serve under Official Bombasticus, as a sort of liaison between the castle bureaucrats and the temporary administrator. After all, the official had no practical experience in the rule of the territory, while Quato had spent several months as one of the king's assistants. Although the position itself promised power, he was also cut off from the rest of the ghost warriors. Rather than with his own brothers, he now had to deal with foreign merchants all the time, as well as his stubborn, temporary new master, the alchemist named Bombasticus.

Just that very master was the only man who knew the names and locations of all ghost warriors in Saniya. As the temporary leader of the ghosts, he could control their position and movement, to horrible effect. When Quato had tried to contact his brothers to support him in his current endeavor, all the ghosts were gone, as if disappeared into thin air. Even worse, when he made his new master aware of the problem, he had been shooed away in favor of some new toy in that laboratory of his.

Thus he was now stuck alone. Even though he knew that the movements of the mercenaries were suspicious, there was no one to turn to. How could that alchemist be so blind? After all, the entire city was under tension, ready to snap. Mercenaries who should otherwise stay in their camp beyond the outer walls now strutted through the streets as if they owned it and terrorized the local population. At least it made his work easier. All these foreigners had to go somewhere during the night, and it sure was not the outer city. Since there was no one to support him, he would have to act by himself, and so he followed a small group of foreign soldiers.

Soon, he reached an old, abandoned court in the inner city and watched them disappear inside. Many of the mansions in this part of the city had become empty when the warriors of former administrator Sawo had become prisoners. Most of them had since gone back into use again, some as official buildings like the king's new school, and some as living quarters for the ghost warriors and the king's new recruits. However, a few courtyards had been preserved in their deserted state to be used as a training ground by the soldiers. In fact, training within these courts was the only exception to the rule that forbade the foreign troops to bear arms inside the inner city without express order. It was a place for the army to study and practice war within a city, and how to fight it.

According to the king, they would have to fight an urban war within Medalan cities sooner or later, so it was best to train in the right environment and be prepared early. Unbeknownst to Quato's lord, the urban war might happen much sooner than even he could ever imagine, maybe even before the king returned from his trip to prepare for another war already in progress.

Over the past few days, Quato had followed Mason whenever he did not have to pursue his duties. As a result, he had been led to this place again and again. The regular visits were a surprise at first. What would a quartermaster need to do in an obscure training facility, Quato wondered.

Soon though, he understood: In here, the troops of the mercenaries could move unhindered. Out of sight of the king's men, they could amass both weapons and supplies behind the sturdy walls. On top of it, the mansions sat right in the center of the city, only a short march from the bridge to Rapra Castle. This here was the ideal place to start a rebellion. For a while, Quato paced along the walls, until he found himself within an alleyway. Now shielded from view, he nimbly climbed into the estate. Over the days, he had already found the best point of entry and memorized the entire layout inside with the help of a 'borrowed' map from the urban planning department. Of course theft of the king's private goods was not the action of a proper warrior, but he couldn't be picky. He just hoped his loyalty during tonight's proceedings would redeem his sin.

With the ghost's silence, he landed back on the ground. Without incident, he managed to cross the small outer yard in the blind spot between two guards and climbed through a window in the wall, the plaster crumbling away between his fingers. Beyond the sparse watchmen outside, there seemed to be little security here, no surprise for a building in rare use. Any more must have been too conspicuous for Mason, Quato thought.

However, as soon as he crossed through a hallway and entered the inner portion of the estate, everything changed. All of a sudden, he could see many dimmed lights in the distance, and hear whispers and chuckles in the wind. From within a deep shadow, Quato watched as three foreign soldiers of the king marched past. They spoke their rough language in loud voices, too engrossed in their conversation to notice the one who observed them.

Further in the distance, he could hear more voices, and see more lights. He couldn't proceed like this, the number of foes was just too dense. Still, if he turned back now and turned to the guards there was no guarantee he could change anything. What evidence did he have of a rebellion? What if the guard he spoke to was part of this ploy? What if his new master with his strange, indifferent actions was as well? But what else could he do?

As he was still in conflict over his next step, a straggler turned a corner and offered a solution. A single foreigner rushed after the initial three with an annoyed look on his face. Quato didn't know what this stranger was so upset about, but he didn't care. Before the mercenary even understood what had happened, a hand had reached from the shadows and covered his mouth. With all his strength, Quato dragged the off-balance enemy into the darkness. His dagger was long prepared.

To the sound of muffled, confused calls from the straggler, the steel pierced into his right ear and turned his alarmed fidgeting into a desperate flail. Not long and the last burst of life had left the body. Although there were many enemies within the compound, they seemed disorganized. Within the relative darkness, a shallow disguise would be enough to get him quite far.

Once Quato had secured a uniform for himself, the rest was easy. His head was lowered as he marched through the halls, always careful to avoid larger groups, always careful to walk at a brisk pace and appear busy, staying in the open yards and hallways outside the main rooms. After he had followed the denser cluster of lights for several minutes, he soon heard something he had not expected; someone was speaking Yakua, and well.

“It is too dangerous! Taking over Saniya cannot be this easy!”

With a frown, Quato sneaked closer to the room where the sound originated. He was too familiar with this voice. Before they had been promoted into officer ranks, all new recruits from Saniya had been screened by the ghosts. To confirm his suspicions, he leaned in to spy through the window. To his shock, his worst fears were confirmed. The room was well-lit, a group of uniformed people sat around a large table. All of them were familiar to Quato. These were some of the officers from the king's new army. Even worse, there were a good few Yakua warriors among them. And at the head of the table sat Mason. Elevated above the rest, he styled himself like a king.

“Why not?” the fat mercenary asked. “Right now, all that stands to defend this city is some idiot alchemist who has no interest in the land or the people. While he sits locked in his chamber in search of some elusive secrets, we can move however we wish. The troops of the king are without a head, without leadership. Even if the king returns, what can he possibly do to us once we have taken control of the city?”

“The king is not far away, somewhere on the front lines of the battlefield against the northern forces. What if King Corco hears of the insurgence and returns? Would he not put a swift end to all of this?”

Again Quato heard the voice, and this time he could put a face to it. This was Olacu, one of the new officers within the army. Quato's fist closed around the hilt of his dagger, his knuckles white from rage. At the same time, a bellowing laugh escaped Mason, followed by a dirty grin.

“How could he? Did you not know? The king is not at the northern border at all. Instead, he is far away, all across the sea in the west, in search for more food before his kingdom starves to death.”

“What? How could that be?” a stunned Olacu asked through the confused whispers of the other men at the table. As Quato looked around the room, he realized that one face he had expected was still absent. Somehow, Nahlen, one of the two main conspirators, hadn't shown up to this important meeting.

“Don't worry about the details. I heard this news from someone within the castle itself, so I'm sure it's reliable.”

“Impossible!” Olacu's eyes opened wide. “Even if they are foreigners, which of his personal servants would ever betray the king?”

“In the end, most people in the castle are Arcavians. They're still our men,” the mercenary sneered. “Even if they're paid by that king right now, their loyalties lie with us. As soon as they see the promise of greater riches, they will throw away that king without hesitation.”

“Still, once King Corco's main forces turn around and focus the city, we won't be able to hold on for long, even in the king's absence. After all, the commoners within Saniya would never support us. Although Lord Sawo was also an outsider and managed to keep the city stable, he was just a puppet of House Ichilia in the end, and at least he was still a Medalan Warrior and not a foreigner.”

A derisive snort escaped the merchant. It might have been intended to sound like a mighty beast, but to Quato it sounded like a donkey's breath.

“Who said we need to control anything?” Mason said with a smirk. “All we need to do is take all the valuables of the city and make them our own. That self-indulgent king keeps collecting all the treasures of the twin-isles in that castle of his. If we can plunder the king's private stash, we will all become rich beyond our wildest dreams. Just imagine, all the treasures of Saniya are right within our grasp!”

Encouraged, the murmur in the room swelled up again, this time tense with anticipation. However, Olacu still seemed unconvinced by Mason's promises. At least he was no complete idiot.

“But where do we go once we have taken the treasures? We cannot spend our wealth out in the swamps after all.”

Still, his question showed that he was at least open to the idea, which made Quato frown again.

“Don't worry too much about the details. Even far from home I have my connections to certain people. When the time comes for us to make our escape, everything will be prepared.”

“Even so...”

“What are you still unsure about?” Mason righted his posture as his voice raised into a command.

“Your perceived loyalty towards that lord of yours? Now he has even conquered the secrets of purple dye, yet he refuses to share any of these treasures with us. Back when we came with him, our contract was cheap out of generosity, only because we did not expect he could pay us full price. Yet that king knew, he knew that he would soon achieve this sort of wealth and he ripped us off. Do you think that's fair? It's even worse for you, the local soldiers. Think about this, what else can that king give you? How is it fair that you are stuck as a 'warrior' forever? You can't even buy a shop or a piece of land, yet that king must be the richest man in the empire by now with all the rice and wheat his peasants have harvested. Yet he's paying you guys, his own countrymen, his own servants, even less than us. Where is the fairness in that? How has he ever repaid your loyalty?”

“That's...”

As Olacu looked confused, Quato's frown only deepened. Maybe this one wasn't so smart after all. How else could he fall for such simple deceptions? Though of course, greed could blind even the wisest of men.

“Look, it's really quite easy.” Mason's tone softened, his hands spread in an open gesture. “Do you stand with us, or do your stand against us?”

Not by accident, some of the foreign mercenaries in the corner of the room rattled their weapons. The entire estate was filled with Mason's men. The message was clear: Take the offer or die.

“Of course, I stand with you.” His decision made for him, the Yaku officer finally ceded.

“Very good. In that case, I'll have you sign and seal a message to your men with some new orders. They'll follow us into battle within a few hours. By the time they realize their enemy are the king's men, they will already be engaged. By then, they will have no way back anymore. Do this for us, and I make you a member of the new wolf mercenaries, together with your own share of our loot. Rejoice. Survive this one fight, and it will feed you for the rest of your life.”

“...” Olacu meekly nodded his head.

“Excellent.” Now that all his pieces were in place, Mason turned to one of the mercenaries who had threatened the officer before. “Eslor, tell the men to get ready. There will be a guard exchange in a few hours, and all our men are in position. We're storming the castle at dawn.”

Beyond the wall, Quato disappeared into the darkness again. Although he didn't have a concrete plan, he had to act soon. Time was running low.