As Grenn left the Throne chambers Sabine Sydow, the Iron Sovereign spymaster, was convening a small meeting in the Sheepshide tavern near the southgate.
The room was crowded with 15 Iron Sovereigns now clothed in leathers and mail, the usual mercenary garb.
“Men, you are here not as Sovereigns for the coming weeks. You will be taking the guise of regular caravan mercenaries and the like
just to drink and fuck on the cost of our dear Dirk.”
A few laughs went through the room, they were instructed to keep silent and most supressed the urge.
“In return, I ask of you that you bring me information, about the city, about what they say about the king, his uncle, his court and his advisers. If you get offered a job say it pays to little, if it pays enough take only jobs that take you less than 5 days and make sure I hear of it. I want you on your best behaviour. Now I will be whoring in the fancier establishments where the mouths of those at court might be a little looser.”
A grin came over the spymasters face as she teasingly said:
“Now disperse boys.”