Phlebas

Phlebas didn't even bother to note where the badge landed, a faint clatter marking where he had spun it into the forest. He turned back to the Master, his Master now, who noted the act with satisfaction.

It had, Phlebas decided, been worth the wait. A few days before, he had cautiously approached a Darkcloak after he knew his mind was made up. He would have to leave the Guards, and reclaim his mind and thoughts. After that first meeting, Phlebas had wondered if they had at all taken his request seriously. Considering his previous encounters with the Darkcloaks, he very much doubted they took anything about him seriously. For two days he waited in Trinsic, guarding despite how much he despised it. Finally, Camigwen and Gorbash had entered the city. Once he had convinced himself he would not be making a mistake, he approached the two and completed his betrayal.

Well, betrayal of the Guards, but finally he was doing himself some justice.

After Phlebas had been initiated into the 'Cloaks by the Master, and Camigwen had explained some of the basic rules (he had half expected her to tell him where the coat pegs and toilets were), he returned to the Tower of Mystery which he liked to call home. After a short while and a bit of shouting, Phlebas stood in front of the mirror and adjusted his hat. Considering the time had had given Murgatroyd (not a lot), the dogsbody had done an amazing job. Phlebas swished his cloak just for the fun of it, and there was no doubt that his current outfit, loosely described as a uniform was infinitely better than the battered blue doublet and kilt he had worn for so long, which was now residing at the bottom of one of Phle's more battered travelling trunks.

Joining Camigwen and Gorbash back at Hawk's, it was decided to go to Trinsic, if only to see the reactions of the Guards to their deserting Captain. This had been the only marr to an otherwise great day, Phlebas thought. Either he wasn't as well-known in Trinsic as he had thought, or the residents had always suspected he was treacherous, for their reactions were minor when they existed at all. What had cheered him up, however, was just sitting by the main gate, watching criminals get up to all sorts of shenanigans, and NOT having to care. The Darkcloaks he had been told, observed. And observing, Phlebas observed, was a lot easier than being observed.